#I know I said it doesn’t matter to me and you should vote whoever you want

[banneriscarried]

Hey, if you’re a US citizen, are 18 or over, and haven’t voted yet:

FUCKING VOTE

I genuinely don’t care who you vote for at this point (though I do have my hopes for this election that are probably very obvious) just fucking do it. Exercise the rights you have and FUCKING VOTE.

Vote for Harris.

Vote for Stein.

Vote fucking Trump.

Just please fucking vote.

On that note, please also try to remember that your vote matters, that your vote counts, and that’s exactly why you should vote for whoever YOU think is best for the country as a whole. Whose policies aren’t the ones you necessarily agree with, but whose policies will give you the most room to push and protest for ones you DO agree with.

Your vote is completely private, absolutely no one you know is going to see it or know who you voted for unless you tell them. If there are people in your life who expect you to vote a specific way, vote for a person you don’t want to vote for, then please remember it’s none of their business. It’s not their decision. Lie to their faces after, tell them you voted the way they wanted you to, or be as vague as possible when answering. Your vote is yours and yours alone.

[xxdrowninglessonsxx]

DNI IF ANGRY AT WHAT I HAVE TO SAY OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. SICK OF THE HARASSMENT.

Two months ago people would have been hyping me up for criticizing the two-party system, but now I just get comments telling me how I’m the reason trans people don’t have rights or why other minorities don’t have rights. I’m trans, 22 years old, and live in Appalachia. I can promise you I’m not the reason trans people don’t have rights. We don’t have rights because society is rigged against us. We don’t have rights because we never have. We don’t have rights because the candidates we vote for to give us rights, never do what is promised. They rarely fulfill their campaign promises, so why would I want to support someone who has no intention of actually helping me or the other people they claim to want to help? Just so we can be “comfortable” for another 4 years until we get to the 4th year and wonder why no change was made and why we have to pick between 2 evils again?

Just because I question the system we live in and actually stand up for what I believe in, doesn’t make me complicit in my own suffering. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. Get a life and stop harassing trans people and other minorities for not following blindly to whatever bullshit you spew while simultaneously using them to prop up your stance. It’s actually kind of fucked up. I vote in my local elections and the primaries. Never have I once said I wasn’t going to vote, and the people insinuating that don’t know me as a person in real life. You sit behind a computer screen arguing for the sake of arguing. Just because I don’t know who I’m voting for for sure, doesn’t make me the devil, and trying to force and harass other people into going along with “VOTE BLUE NO MATTER WHO” only makes you look worse. You’re allowed to vote for whoever you want for, just as much as I am. It’s almost like that’s the point of voting. You’re allowed to announce who you’re voting for or what your stances are; it’s almost like that’s in the 1st amendment. You’re fed up. I’m fed up. We have the same goals but different ways of going about it.

I’ve held the exact stance that the two-party system is shit for years, and never have I ever been more attacked than by Harris supporters. I haven’t ever had a republican come on my page to guilt trip me about my own identity and tell me I’m the reason that my community is in jeopardy, but you democrats sure love to attack minorities who want change just as bad as you when they don’t fully agree with you. Or you use trans rights to make a lame point, despite the fact you’re literally using someone’s identity against them in order to make them feel bad for not following your specific pick for president who literally supports genocide just as much as the other one does. Please spare me the bullshit on how Trump is worse and plans to take our rights away. We as a collective know. I voted for Biden in the previous election. What’s to stop Trump from running again in the next one if he loses this one? It’s clear his age won’t stop him.

Some people need time to grapple with what’s at stake in this election, and it’s not fair to bombarde them with hate in order to convince them to make a choice when both parties go against their morals and have gone against their morals. Hate and the “better than thou” attitude is the exact reason they don’t like your cause.

I’m sick of people acting like voting blue for President will prevent the end of the world or whatever the fuck you think. Other elections matter as well, not just presidential. Democrats love to sit comfortably while their President is in office, so comfortably that they forget that organizing for change matters. They forget that we should be lobbying for ranked choice voting. They forget that we should be lobbying against the electoral college.

Have you taken a look at your candidate’s benefactors recently? Do you know any response other than, “Well, what do you suppose we do about it?” when asked about Palestine’s plight? How should I know? I’m a lower-class person who makes about $10,000 a year with no voice but my vote. I’ve emailed and called my representatives. I’ve done all I can do. I’ve donated what little money I can to causes I believe in. It’s not my job to step up. I have been stepping up. It’s our politicians job to step up. It’s the billionaires who fund our politicians who need to step up.

It’s not anyone but your candidate’s fault if they lose in the election. Quit blaming the innocent people who do nothing but work their asses off just to scrape by into being complicit with you and your corporate-controlled parties who only want to pass whatever agenda will make them the most money. The parties who allow the rich to get richer while the poor get poorer. Y’all loved saying Palestine was your red line when Biden was running, but suddenly everything is different now? It doesn’t make sense to me, and it must be fun being privileged enough to jump from one cause to the next as trends cycle because you don’t live in Palestine, and it doesn’t effect you. You are not immune to propaganda just as much as I am not immune.

“A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything.” - Malcom X

That being said, I understand the appeal of voting for Kamala and why you would. I understand the fear. I experience the fear every single day. So go out, vote, and use your voice. Stop making others feel bad. Going after the people who relatively agree with you is not helping your cause, it is hurting it, and it will be what causes you to lose the election.

[bonesandthebees]

Hellooo! Oh my gosh you have no idea how excited I was yesterday to hear that there would be a new rose chapter— especially with it being the first of this new arc and time skip !! And it did not disappoint, there’s so much to think about and it will absolutely be keeping my mind busy for a bit.

I have two main first thoughts following this chapter and I may be completely wrong but for now I feel convinced. This’ll be way longer than what I usually write so sorry in advance for that bdhahfb

First off, I think Puffy actively doesn’t want Tommy to be heir. Not because she doesn’t care about him, in fact she’s shown that she cares about him— but because of that. I feel like she sees how much he would have to deal with as an heir and how dangerous it could be (as it has already shown to be and it has been shown that she feels guilty that he was put in that danger under her care) and doesn’t want that for him, especially with how young he still is. I mean, if she wanted him to have a better chance she’d have told him why he was there in the first place. She might not have wanted him to grow up having to have that much on his shoulders and not have to be strategizing to take the throne. Now he might be older, but as Wilbur himself said— she is perceptive. I don’t doubt that she may already see how closely tied Wilbur and Tommy are now and that Phil and Wilbur have full intentions to push him as an heir while having more control over Tommy than they would have with Niki or Quackity. Especially with her suspicions that Wilbur may have gone as far as to murder someone and then being replaced as tutor with Techno. I feel like not only did she likely not want this for Tommy but now she has even less power to keep others from manipulating and using him for their gain. She has no way of stopping them unless she takes away what makes them want to use him and that is mainly that he is a possible heir. It makes so much sense to me that she’d back Niki, clearly also telling her about how to gain popularity where Tommy is most popular. I think Phil is underestimating Puffy and what she can do because they are banking on Tommy becoming heir and supporting him. Yes she has closest ties to him and most of her information that she can’t get herself comes from him but that’s exactly what makes her so dangerous to them. Because with her knowledge of where they come from and Tommy’s information she can lessen Tommy’s greatest strengths and what he has most going for him if Niki also has that going for her. With the rainduo friendship growing apart, Wilbur doesn’t have the confirmation that he will still be Niki’s Consil should she get the throne. Why would she? The plan was that Wilbur would support her and Niki would choose him as her Consil. But now that Wilbur has in a way betrayed her and is supporting Tommy, if she wins, why would she choose Wilbur? I’m surprised Phil isn’t more concerned— or at least I will be surprised if he still isn’t after this chapter, knowing that Puffy has most likely been writing to Niki (although Sneeg will know for sure).

Secondly, I am currently convinced that whoever attempted to assassinate Sam is in support of Niki being heir. No matter what Phil might want, if Sam were to die and a decision had to happen, and angelduo themselves noted how dangerous it currently would be with how passionate some people are if they thought an injustice was done to Niki. Tommy is still young and Niki is currently most popular. Fr when that assassination attempt happened in my brain it was like that assassin “STOP THE VOTE !!!”. Because like. What other plot-relevant reason would there be for someone to try to assassinate Sam out of everyone? Yes he is the king and some people might just want to assassinate the king for personal reasons but if it’s not that then I don’t see any reason why someone would want Sam dead other than to force for Niki to have to inherit the throne? I doubt it would be to make people think it was someone on Niki’s side because it wasn’t obvious enough for that, and it would have to be someone in support of Quackity or someone in support of Tommy. Last arc we already had someone in support of Quackity attempt assassination so I doubt it would be that a second time and someone on Tommy’s side would probably have to be Phil, Wilbur or Techno. Even without the fact we have Phil and Wilbur’s POVs, this feels like it has too high of a chance to not work that way at all for something they might do. Not to say that Niki or Puffy/Hannah knew of it (Though specifically Niki not hiding to look for who it was makes me even more suspicious since that may make Sam favor her— in the sense that she put herself at risk to find who was responsible for nearly assassinating Sam).

I’m probably forgetting or misremembering a lot since I haven’t reread. Either way, I am fully hooked and very excited for what’s to come and what happens next! Really looking forward to this arc and what it’ll bring (although I am still terrified of that MCD tag…) I feel like Wilbur’s support for Tommy will definitely be tested in that he will actively have to do something to lessen Niki’s chances since for not he has just been able to not say he has changed his support even if it’s already known to the both of them.

Great writing as always !!! :)

XIMA I HOPE YOU KNOW HOW HAPPY I WAS TO SEE THIS IN MY INBOX!! I am SO glad you you're having so many thoughts about the new chapter I'm so excited for everything that's getting set up with this new arc

ooooo very interesting interpretation of puffy's actions. as always I can't say whether you're right or wrong regarding her feelings about tommy but very fun for me to read nonetheless. also, to explain why phil is dismissing her so easily, he's thinking about it less like she isn't capable of it and more that she just doesn't have the resources to do it. of course this is still a form of him underestimating her, but he really thinks that she can't really tell niki anything that will give niki a significant edge. whether or not he's right about that remains to be seen. also, yeah, wilbur and phil really both should be more concerned now that wilbur has zero confirmation that he'd be niki's consil should she come to power.

wonderful theories regarding the assassination attempt. again I can't say anything but I like where your head is at (although I will confirm you're right that the assassination attempt has nothing to do with supporting quackity). also I hope you know when you said the assassin was like "STOP THE VOTE" I cackled out loud. the assassination attempt will not be solved for a while so I'm very excited to hear everyones thoughts on it over the next few chapters

i'm so so glad you're enjoying xima!!! it makes me so happy to know you're still enjoying my fics. I don't think this next arc is going in the direction anyone expects so I'm very excited to see what you think as things progress :)))

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

Whose Eye Is It Anyway? | Kori | Trial 5.3 | Re: An, Byrne, Erik A, Akito

It may not have been the reaction she was hoping for with that, but seeing An's barely contained rage in response to her bait sparks a slight bit of satisfaction in the streamer. No matter how much character development she goes through you cannot take the toxic out of the gamer, sorry. Anger is an answer in itself, and Kori's certain that if she really was wrong about what she was trying to get them to admit, then An would have smugly or bitterly shot down her assessment and called her an idiot for even thinking such a thing. She's taking that anger as a confirmation, and that emotional potshot Byrne called out just gets an eye roll in response. 

"I can't feel sympathy for you when you've only been trying to get us fucking killed this whole time, and I'm not gonna bother trying. This entire experiment, your lives have been hinging on our deaths, on pushing me and/or my best friend to kill or be killed." And they succeeded on that front, but that’s besides the point. “Call it as selfish as you want, I don’t care about your survival if it means you’re getting it by still trying to kill those I consider to be friends.”

She listens carefully to Akito and Erik A's arguments, certain things clicking in her mind, even if she's not sure how correct they may be…

If they get this wrong, then Akito will die if he's not the correct answer, and if he is the correct answer, then… She trusts Kenshin will be safe, they wouldn't choose the same person twice for a punishment and he's done nothing to earn the ire of the sisters other than what he literally just apologized for, Byrne hasn't done anything to piss the two off other than his flirting with Emil, which he stopped once he found out Calluna's relationship with him and once he got into a relationship himself with Kenshin, END as far as Kori knows has done nothing to be considered an annoyance to the sisters, she's seen the woman actively flirt with Calluna in a way that didn't seem to bother the scientist at all. Erik A she's a bit concerned for, the notes on his file having labeled him as someone that needs to be kept watch over, his intelligence could definitely pose a threat, and if Kori was said to be perfect for the project, then they'd find Erik A to be even better. But that's not the criteria they posed for choosing who dies, he hasn't done anything to be considered an annoyance to the hosts. She believes in the chance that should this choice fuck everything up, at least most of those she's gotten close with will be safe, other than Akito himself.

Besides, even if it keeps getting difficult to trust Akito's word, Erik A brings up a good point.

"If they orchestrated this, then it'd be easier and more beneficial for the sisters to guide us to a wrong answer to give them the power to kill whoever they want, than to manipulate their rules to the point where the person they've deemed the 'correct answer' is someone not involved in the case at all…" Muttering something to herself under her breath, she inputs her vote before speaking up again. "As untrustworthy as he is, I don't see the logic behind Akito being the culprit. His lies don't change the fact that those photos are on his phone, timestamped to not long before and after the murder, and the only pieces of evidence against him are things that argue he could have access to the floors in general, nothing that indicated he was actually there right before the murder to get the curtain from the stage. His lies make him hard to believe, but that isn't fucking evidence, dishonesty doesn't equal guilt."

And on a note that isn't based on logic, or simple belief…

"It'll take a lot to make up for everything, but… at least there will be your life to live remembering what you did, and making up for it however you can." Those words said to her last trial are now turned around on the man who said them in the first place. "Voting for Kabasawa-san should least give us some kind of chance at saving a life, even if it feels unlikely, and… you helped save mine, so putting in this bit of effort is the least I could do, right?"

The slight smile she casts his way is definitely forced. God, please don't let this backfire on her.

[rubywithin]

Who to Trust? 7

If that’s true then Sora is most likely innocent but he asked Kyoya and Tetsuya to go with him. While only me and Gina checked Yuga’s room! did Sora know about this body discovery rule? I also don’t like the fact that he suggested they check the pool, (Ein) “Do you guys know why Sora wanted to check the pool?”. I know it’s possible he could of chosen the room randomly but the fact he wanted to check it in a group of three specifically makes me wonder if he knew something! (Tetsuya) “He mentioned Aurel seeing him in the hallway at about 1am, you see Aurel has been hanging out at the Lab a lot!”. Hmm I guess I should go ask him some questions, I made my way over to the lab....I knocked on the door. I heard a sigh (Aurel) “Enter” I walked in the door and he was there mixing a bunch of different chemicals! (Aurel) “Is there something I can help you with?” I felt a bit nervous....but I need info if I want to find the killer!

(Ein) “I heard you saw Yuga in the hallway before the incident, I guess I want to know why it isn’t you?”. (Aurel) “What makes you sure about that?” his tone was quite intense but I wasn’t going to back down. (Ein) “Simple I know who got a picture of you and based off your attitude towards Naruma she is most likely the one you got a picture of. Plus according to Tetsuya you spend most of your time here so I imagine you didn’t notice Yuga wanting to talk to me. The only thing that I’m missing is your alibi!” (Aurel) “I see” he then pointed to further down the room and I saw Anabelle reading. (Anabelle) “This is our special place so I can vouch for Aurel” I looked at the book she was reading....it had some sort of circle on it. (Aurel) “I did not notice anyone else enter after Yuga so I believe whoever attacked him was waiting by the pool!”.

I then walked past Ellie it looked like she still doesn’t trust me....I feel like I need to know one more thing though! (Ein) “Ellie please answer one final question did the cue I took have a red end?”. She sighed, (Ellie) “Yes unlike you I actually paid attention to the cue’s so just accept...” (Ein) “Thank you, I think I have all the information I need”. She looked confused but that didn’t matter, I think I know what happened I just need to convince the others. -Ding dong- (Hedgy) “The investigation period is now over, please make your way over to the living room”. All of us walked back to the room.....suddenly a hallway had appeared in the middle of one of the walls. There were arrows pointing along it so we made our way through it, then on the other side was some sort of podium arrangement. (Hedgy) “Welcome to the centre of the trials hehehehe, you can all discuss the incident and the parties involved. Then when all is said and done vote on who you think the killer is, this will be majority rules!”.

(Sora) “Then I think I should start things off, the most likely culprit is Ein since we have two witnesses for him taking a Pool Cue from the shop. And one can confirm the one used to hit Yuga was the exact one Ein took!” (Gina) “Also Yuga got the picture of Ein, Mr Hedgy here told us these pictures were our motivation to kill. Further most of us know that Yuga decided to talk to Ein about this and I’m sure Ein took advantage of this panic to lure Yuga to the pool”. As expected the doubt towards me is strong, no one else is speaking against them. (Ein) “You are both right, this incident was painted to make me look like the culprit but there is no evidence of me going to the Pool”. I can’t rely on an accusation at the moment I need to rely on the true culprit giving themselves up even if its in a small way. (Tetsuya) “Just before the attack I went to get some food for me and Kyoya and I noticed Sora’s, Aurel’s, Laura’s, Annabelle's and Haruma’s doors were unlocked. I believe they are most likely the ones who went to the pool!” I waited for the counters. 

[wearepaladin]

Paladin of the month: whoever working with the supreme court that has risked their whole career and possibly freedom or safety to leak that draft opinion, hopefully they remain an anonymous hero

I hope that’s the case. I’ve heard other rational arguments that the leaker intended to cast iron the votes on the matter by ensuring that the court of public opinion would force the Judges in the majority to keep their votes the same.

Regardless, with the preface that I don’t like to talk about politics because they can distract from the core message I try to show here, IE that paladins are a plurality and can have different beliefs and ideals. “We” are Paladin, etc etc.

That said, if anyone wants to ask me more directly, I do believe in the right to abortion, and my reasoning is based on ethical, moral, and theological arguments. Morally, I feel that I or anyone should not dictate anything that can affect a person’s health without their consent. Ethically, i feel that any society that doesn’t take into account how their laws can negatively effect their people, especially in one that claims to be democratic, when the majority claims they want the opposite of what you intend to enforce. Theologically, life begins with breath, the soul more than the shell we inhabit, and thus no harm is done to any life when an abortion is done safely.

This is all a very simplified statement of what I believe and why, but I am not afraid to declare them, and let you all know where I stand. In the days to come, I encourage to you find where you stand and do the same.

[shawnmendesbuddy]

Day 3–Gingerbread Competition (25 Days of Ficmas)

A/N: Thanks for reading! Requests are open. If you want to be added to my taglist, PM me.

Summary: Shawn and Y/N have their annual Christmas competition and Shawn might have a surprise up his sleeve

Warnings: Swear Words

“Mom, do you think this ring is good enough?” Shawn popped open the velvet box and Karen admired it. 

“Honey, that ring is gorgeous. If anyone is going to know Y/N’s taste, it would be you. You’ve been with her for a year now. Plus, do you really think Y/N is going to say no if she doesn’t like the ring? You two can always go back in and exchange it for a different one.”

Shawn sighed. “I know, I just want everything to be perfect. I can’t mess this up.”

Karen laughed at her son. “This day will be perfect no matter if you mess up or not. She loves you, you love her. Everything will be fine in the end.”

“You’re right.”

“I know I am. Now go help your father get those gingerbread houses set up. And make sure you give Y/N the right one.” She patted his cheeks and sent him off to the dining room. 

“Which one should be Y/N’s,” Manny asked his son as he gestured to all the premade gingerbread houses. 

“Umm.” Shawn tried to find the perfect one for her and placed the ring inside the open slot for the door. He hid it in the corner so it wouldn’t be visible to her. 

A few minutes later, the sound of laughter was heard throughout the house as Y/N and Aaliyah entered the house. Shawn rushed to greet his girlfriend and pulled her into a hug, kissing the side of her head. 

“Hello to you too, Shawn,” she chuckled rubbing his back up and down. “When are we starting the competition?”

“In a few minutes. We have to wait for Dad to finish putting them together. You’re so going down Y/N.”

Every year, the Mendes family had a gingerbread competition. It was always split into two partnerships and the loser of the competition had to smash their gingerbread house. This year, it was Karen versus Manny. Aaliyah versus her boyfriend. And Shawn and Y/N versus each other. The way the winner was determined was through Instagram. One person from the pair of people would post a poll on their Instagram, and whoever got the most votes, won. 

This year Shawn had a master plan to get Y/N to lose. Earlier in the day, he had told his followers via Instagram story to vote for the second of the two gingerbread houses which would be his. His followers didn’t know it was going to be his gingerbread house that they were voting for as the creator of the gingerbread house had to remain anonymous. Then, when Y/N lost, she would smash her gingerbread house and find the engagement ring. And then Shawn would propose to her. 

And to keep this all hidden from Y/N, Aaliyah had taken her to the mall to go Christmas shopping. She tried to prevent Y/N from looking at her phone.

Shawn would’ve taken Y/N to a fancy restaurant to propose, but the annual gingerbread competition was a meaningful thing for the two. It had been their first date. 

Shawn and Y/N met at the beginning of his third world tour. She was Connor’s assistant, learning the ropes of film and photography from him. Shawn had taken an instant liking to her. The guys constantly teased him about his crush. Finally, with lots of convincing, he gained the confidence to ask her out. 

And since he didn’t want to overwhelm her with the plethora of fans and paparazzi on their first date, he took her back to his hometown to compete in his family’s Christmas competition. 

Last year, she beat Shawn by a landslide. When it came to hand crafts, Y/N was a lot better at it than Shawn. Which is what scared him the most. What if it was so obvious that he lost that Y/N wouldn’t believe the results and would ask for a rematch? What if his fans did the opposite of what he said and voted for option number 1?

Shawn led Y/N to the couch to go sit down with her. Being around her made him nervous as hell. But it also made him think he could do anything with her by his side. He was excited to start this new chapter in their lives, but nervous for what it entailed. 

“You okay there?” Y/N had noticed the shift in his demeanor, but he continued to rub the back of her hand with his thumb. 

“Yea. I just missed you. And it’s snowing so I was a little nervous about you making it here safe.”

She picked his hand up and kissed his fingertips that were blistered from playing the guitar. “Babe, I’ve driven in the snow before. It wasn’t too bad out there. I’ve been in worse.”

“Yea, but I don’t know. I want you to call me the next time you’re in a snowstorm. It would make me feel more comfortable.”

Y/N chuckled. “Alright hon. If that’s’ what would make you feel better.” He nodded his head and pushed it into her chest. She rubbed her hands through his scalp, and he sighed with content. 

He had been extra clingy sense the past week that they had spent at Shawn’s parents’ house. Not that she was complaining, she loved clingy Shawn. But usually, it meant he was feeling stressed about something. 

“You’re sure you’re ok? You don’t need to talk about anything?” 

He nodded his head. “I’m fine. Promise,” his mumbled voice said. “You’re so comfy. I feel like I’m going to fall asleep.” 

“Well how about you don’t do that. Jordan just got here so let’s get the competition started,” Aaliyah said, smiling at the two from her spot in the living room. Jordan stood behind her sending a little wave to them. 

“Hey Jordan. How’s it going?” Y/N questioned. 

Jordan laughed nervously. “It’s good. How are you guys?”

“We’re more than good,” Shawn replied.

They both stood from the couch and followed the couple into the kitchen. Y/N and Shawn sat next to each other. Aaliyah and Jordan across from them, and Manuel and Karen on opposite sides of the table. 

“Alright, let the annual Mendes gingerbread competition begin.” Manny flipped over the hourglass set to go for half an hour, and they all began making their houses. 

Y/N picked up her frosting and quickly started making icicles along the roof of the house. Shawn used the icing to stick candy lights on it. He looked over at Y/N to see her tongue peeking out of her lips in concentration. He smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to marry this girl. 

Shawn tried really hard this to make his better than Y/N’s. Last year, Y/N had won the competition. Shawn hadn’t really tried because he always won against Aaliyah and didn’t see a point. But this year he had to step up his game. 

“And time!” Manny yelled as the last drop of sand fell through the hourglass. Shawn looked over at Y/N’s gingerbread house and was proud to see that hers wasn’t all that better than his. He caught her also eyeing his and he sent her a smirk. 

“You’re so going to lose.”

“Hmm, ok. Whatever you say Mendes.”

Shawn posted the photos of the gingerbread houses and the poll. As they waited for the results to come in, they all sat down to watch ‘Elf.’ After the movie ended, Shawn pulled out his phone. His heart was beating as he looked at the poll results. He was relieved to see he had won. 

“Look,” he shoved the phone in Y/N’s face and held up an L on his forehead. “You lost.”

Y/N was shocked but accepted her defeat. The whole family followed Y/N into the kitchen. Little did she know that she was the only one smashing her house and that there was a life-changing surprise hidden in it. 

“Ok, you ready?” 

“This is so sad,” Y/N lamented the loss of her gingerbread house before picking up the tiny wood mallet. It didn’t require much force to break the house with it and it wouldn’t damage the ring. 

Shawn felt his heart stop as she broke the roof and saw the ring. A confused look flashed across her face and then Shawn grabbed it from inside the gingerbread house and knelt down.“My bad. I must’ve lost this. I think it belongs to you. That is if you, Y/N L/N will marry me?” 

Y/N gasped in surprise. Her mouth opened and her right hand went up to cover it. “Are you being serious?”

Shawn nodded his head, feeling lightheaded from the nerves.

“Of course! Do you even need to ask that question?!” Y/N threw herself into Shawn’s arms. He embraced her as the two toppled over onto the hard wood floor giggling.

“Here, let me put it on. I hope you like it. I was really worried you might not.” 

She sat up as he slid the ring onto her finger and kissed her hand gently. “It’s beautiful Shawn. This is perfect. I can’t wait to marry you.”

He pulled her into a passionate kiss and the Mendes and Jordan cooed at the newly engaged couple. 

*****

Later that night, as they watched a Hallmark on Shawn’s computer in his room, Y/N asked Shawn a question that had been weighing on her mind all night. “Hey Shawn, what would you have done if you lost?”

Shawn laughed nervously. “Well actually, I couldn’t have lost. I told my followers to vote for the second house which was mine. I couldn’t risk losing and not proposing to you tonight.”

“Y/N sent him the death stare. “So, you’re saying that I actually won, and you mad me smash my gingerbread house?!”

“Hey, my house wasn’t that bad. I think even without telling my followers to vote for me I would’ve won.”

“Shawn, let’s be real, I definitely won that competition.”

“Ok fine, you’re right. But just because I love you.”

A/N: If you want to be added to my taglist, PM me. Feedback is appreciated

[issaxcharlie]

Falling like the stars✨

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N never got to be a thing. Whatever they had ended abruptly when she settled on someone with far more status than the aspiring guitarist. Months later, now single, Luke entangles her in a scheme to make Sunset Curve more popular. The only thing she needs to do is fake date him for 2 weeks.

Songs used: Holy Ground by Taylor Swift, Loved You First by One Direction and Falling Like The Stars by James Arthur.

High school is a world by itself. It has its own system and everyone moves through it. It is something that although it is not discussed, everyone knows. Including the three members of Sunset Curve, who are lying in the yard trying to find a solution to their latest problem.

"We need more people to support our music. If we can't get this little school to support us, how are we going to fill clubs or sign with a label?” Reggie wonders aloud to himself, no matter how hard they try, they can't get the Los Feliz student body to listen to their band.

“We should have thought about it before, Reg. Now we're just the problem kids who most likely won't finish school. Why would they come to see us at those seedy little clubs when they can go show off at football games.” Luke stands up suddenly after Alex words, one of those huge smiles that comes out when he has a really bad idea on his face.

“Well it seems that the solution is easy, boys. We have to make them see us on the same level as those jocks.”

“Oh yeah, and how are we going to do that, genius?” Alex fiddles with his hands as he rests his head on Reggie, both tired of not being able to come even close to fulfilling their dream.

Luke points to the nearest post, on which there are at least 5 posters to support the homecoming king and queen.

“Really? Do you think someone would vote for you? Before all those star athletes who also have a cheerleader to back them up? You basically have just us and I don't think I can do one of those tricks.”

“We’ll think of something. Winning that stupid thing would put us directly in the top of the pyramid. We’ll find a way, we always do.” Before anyone can respond, some screaming and commotion can be heard.

“Savannah is accusing Y/N to mess with her man! Run, they are in the hall!" students mention as they start running to watch the discussion.

“Oh god, Y/N. I’ll better go and see if I can help her somehow.” Alex gets up and Reggie begins to follow him, but not before turning to make sure Luke is following too. The guitarist makes an irritated face but ends up walking behind his friends.

From the moment they enter the main hall they can hear the screeches of probably the most popular girl in school, Savannah Miller. One of those typical unbearable girls who for some reason always reach the top of the elite in schools despite treating everyone badly.

Y/N Y/L is on the other side of the discussion, she looks calm and even bored. The first thing Luke digests from Savannah's words is that she thinks Y/N was making out with her idiot of a boyfriend during third period. What's interesting about the situation is that Diego cheated on Y/N with Savannah maybe a week and a half ago and had been dating her ever since.

But that's not Y/N's style, no matter how angry she is.

Luke knows her well enough, or so he wants to believe. She was always good friends with Alex and Reggie, and her relationship with them remained strong over the years despite how unstable and fleeting her relationship with the guitarist was.

He's never going to admit how deeply he felt for her. How much it screwed him up that just when he finally began to believe they could be something else, she completely walked away from his life so she could date the man that would end up cheating on her just because he looked more promising at the time. Rich, popular, the quarterback of the football team, the ‘perfect guy’ she said to the boys.

But hey, that's past.

Luke looks up to meet Y/N's eyes on him. In the moment she realizes she was caught, she sneakily turns to Alex, who is just inches from the guitarist and smiles at him.

“Are you actually smiling? You think this is funny?” The girl looks furious, but she's smart enough not to make this a battle of strength.

“I already told you, Savannah. It wasn’t me.”

“I can count, Y/N. Neither you nor Diego were in class."

And that’s when it hits him. The possibility of getting to the top of the pyramid in front of him. Because maybe Y/N is not the most popular, but it is undoubtedly one of the most loved by everyone. Intelligent, caring, beautiful, talented. And she certainly has the status after dating Diego Hernandez for one semester. No one had managed more than 3 months with him and the guitarist thinks that was a good sign that that idiot is not a good idea but well, it wasn’t his choice.

Luke begins to walk towards the center of the circle, Alex tries to stop him but cannot catch his arm in time. Both girls turn to see him surprised, but neither says anything.

"You can go find culprits elsewhere, Y/N was busy with me at the time. You can ask whoever you want and they'll tell you that I wasn't in class during third period either."

Of course, he wasn't there because the trio got into Reggie's old truck to get some hotdogs but no one has to know that.

His hand goes to take her firmly by the hip, just like all those nights that now only remain as memories. He is looking at every inch of her face, searching for her reaction, and is surprised by the naturalness with which the girl accepts the gesture. As if his hand belongs there. And maybe, just maybe, it does.

“Do you really want me to believe this?” Savannah asks, clearly annoyed.

“Y/N and Patterson? There’s just no way in hell. C’mon babe, he’s just pathetic, you could do better.” Diego says out loud as he approaches the scene in the middle of Y/N and Savannah.

There's something about the disgruntled way they both said it that makes Luke want to prove that a girl like her could want him. He doesn’t know how to distinguish if it is pride or insecurity but at the moment he is not interested.

He's barely going to open his mouth to defend himself when Y/N starts talking. "No. You can speak as badly as you want of me but you're not going to bring Luke into this."

Luke lets go of her so he can step back a few inches and see her from a better angle. She’s definitely not calm anymore. Her face looks altered and she is undoubtedly in protective mode. She turns to see him when she feels his hand leave her body but he offers her his hand and she intertwines it between her fingers without hesitation. At this rate she is taking control of the situation so he is going to let her continue and try to achieve his goal along the way.

“I know you need a partner to have any hope of winning the crown, but choosing Patterson is a desperate move.”

And that’s his cue. "If my baby wants that crown I will get it for her. It's that easy.”

“What? I do-” At that moment Luke panics and pulls her by the hand that they have intertwined and with the other holds her face while bringing their lips together. When he reacts to what he is doing he is afraid that Y/N will push him in front of everyone but to his surprise she kisses him back instantly, releasing his hand to bring him closer to the neck.

The kiss is passionate and almost desperate, but it only lasts a few seconds since a voice brings them back.

"This feels like deja vu." Reggie whispers to Alex, they both walked during the discussion towards the circle and are so close that Luke and Y/N heard him clearly.

“Well, we already clarified that she was not with your boyfriend so, I’ll take my girl. It was a pleasure, we should repeat this another day... said no one ever." Luke takes her hand and leads her to the nearest empty living room, Reggie and Alex locking the door behind him.

“What the hell was that crown bullshit? Why did you even cover for me? What are you up to? At least tell me is fun... or that includes you shirtless.” She jokes, a cheeky smile spreads in Luke’s face.

“I need a favor and thought you’ll appreciate an alibi.” She raises her eyebrow in reflex.

“Why would I help you, Lucas?” Luke can only think of how she makes a name as simple and boring as Lucas sound so sexy when she says it. Is incredible.

“Cut the act, beautiful. We both know you've never been able to resist me.” Y/N laughs amused at the boy’s sassiness. She won't admit it but she missed his eyes on her. She missed the way he uses that cocky stupid voice that melts her when he wants something. How he gets closer with each sentence, or his lips on her mouth.

Before she can counter attack, Alex stands in front of the guitarist raising his hands. “I know he’s an idiot, but we really need your help, Y/N. If we want Sunset Curve to gain popularity we have to start here, and this is our last year. Gaining popularity among the elite of the school would help us a lot.”

“We are getting desparate.” Reggie adds, a sad smile on his face.

“And pretending I made out with Luke in third period and getting to be homecoming dance queen and king helps you... why?”

“That crown is literally a test of popularity and status. It would put Luke on the same level as the popular kids like Savannah and Diego. People would be more interested in Sunset Curve after that. For now, for them we are only three good for nothing that one day will not appear around here again. You heard yourself that those two didn't think Luke was good enough."

Her face flushes with anger as soon as she remembers the contemptuous tone of voice they used to refer to Luke. If they hadn't been in the middle of the hall, she probably would have said a lot more than she did. That single comment is enough to make her decide, so without thinking Y/N asks “What do you need me to do?”

“Just play perfect couple with Luke until homecoming dance. Then you are queen and king, Sunset Curve gets the fans we deserve, you get to laugh at Savannah’s face and you can separate next day if you want to.”

“I’m not sure If someone is going to believe it.” She blurts out loud as she glances at the guitarist.

“Oh please, you know each others mouth better than your own names.” Reggie says without thinking, Luke snorted with laughter and Y/N blushes like crazy.

“Yeah, and you used to spend a lot of time together too, two weeks shouldn’t be that hard.” Alex tries to recover the seriousness of the situation to close the deal.

“Okay then. If I can help Sunset Curve and get that smirk of superiority off Savannah's face then sounds good to me. Are you willing to date me, Patterson?”

Their eyes meet again and without a sign of hesitation her now officially boyfriend for the next two weeks, answers.

“Beautiful, you have no idea.”

There is something about relationships that never get to happen that make the heart weigh more, that nostalgia to be stronger, the person more difficult to forget. Luke can't help but remember during the last periods of the day just how good it felt to taste the girl's lips again. Feelings of desire, of familiarity, of belonging. All colliding and going deep into his bones.

He decided a long time ago he didn't do relationships, but if he did, it would have been with her. He was willing to break that rule for her, but she had the final decision and it wasn't him. He accidentally put himself in the perfect situation though. All those what if’s will finally have an answer.

For two weeks he can test what it would have been if Y/N Y/L had chosen him. And when he finally tries the experience he will be free. Free from all the what if’s, free from her, from her memory. And there's also the part of how much the band will benefit. The main objective of doing this, obviously.

The last hour is finally over and Luke sped off toward Reggie's truck. In front of it is Alex already waiting and he can see Reggie and Y/N also walking in the same direction. The four of them regroup and Y/N starts to discuss game plan.

“If we are going to do this, we are going to do it well. There will be a party at Finch's house this Saturday and the three of you are coming with me."

The three members of Sunset Curve make an annoyed face at the words of their friend. "That's exactly why no one supports you. You think you are too cool to hang out with the people but then you want everyone to happily buy your shirts and listen to your music."

“She has a point there.” Alex agrees, and puts his arm around her shoulder.

“Okay, let’s do this. If you all come with me, we can leave early and crash one of those places you usually play. Maybe even have some people of the party to come with us and hear you rock the shit out of that place.” All three smile with bright eyes In response.

“You got yourself a deal, pretty lady.” Reggie says in a flirting tone and winks at her. Luke gives him a light punch on the arm.

"I'll see you on Saturday in my house then, at nine. Goodbye boys." She winks at Luke and walks over to her car, making sure to do a perfect walk because she knows pretty well that the guitarist isn't going to stop watching her until she pulls out of the parking lot.

Luke gives her a perfect smile one last time before Y/N leaves school. These two weeks are going to be weird.

The four members of the band are in the truck, Bobby decided to get out of school recently but a party and a gig sounds like a rad Saturday. Luke gets out and walks to the door to wait for Y/N to come out. When she finally comes down he feels like all the air is coming out of his lungs.

She's wearing the black Sunset Curve t-shirt that he forgot one of the many times he climbed up to the second floor of the house to see her. A short black skirt and one of his red flannels that he probably left there several months ago as well. Black fishnets stockings which he can't help but imagine ripping out with his teeth, her lips in that tone of red that drives him crazy, and her classic black boots that he hadn't seen since she started dating the cheating idiot.

“Genius huh? Is there anything that says more ‘Luke Patterson’s property’ than this? I don’t think so." She smiles proudly and blushes when she notices Luke's gaze locked on her legs. Fishnets may have been included in the outfit due to a certain weakness that the musician has towards them.

The hair that the guitarist is used to seeing in a perfect bun lately, is now loose and tousled. As rebellious as the day he met her, moving in harmonious tune to the rhythm of Now or Never.

Luke reaches out to to entwine his hand in her hair and whispers slowly into her ear “You look... fucking hell, you are not playing fair, baby.” Lightly biting her lobe when he’s done speaking.

They both linger in a trance for a few seconds, considering whether they should just walk in and lock the door. But before they can decide, the boys that already know this story pretty well and are sick of waiting for them while they flirt, get out of the truck. Reggie carries Y/N like a sack of potatoes and between Bobby and Alex take Luke by the arms, putting them in the vehicle so they can finally get to the lame party and then, the gig.

When they finally arrive, the eyes of almost all the girls go to the members of the band, who are definitely dressed for the occasion. Y/N can't help but notice how most of the cheerleaders wink at her boyfriend. Yeah, it’s not real and will last two weeks, but for now she justs wants to forget that part and enjoy the feeling of him being hers.

So she makes a small, harmless gesture to mark territory and puts her hand in the guitarist's back pocket.

Luke turns to see her, an amused smirk on his face. “Jealousy looks so hot on you, I wouldn't mind if you marked my lips with that red lipstick too."

That statement resonates in Y/N’s head. All the times Diego refused to kiss her so as not to stain himself and even forbade her to use that lipstick that for her was part of her brand returning to her head. Followed quickly by every night Luke came down after finishing playing and instantly attacked her lips with his, caring for nothing more than the feel of their tongues fighting for control.

“Not jealousy, just a quick reminder to everyone. You are all mine tonight.” She puts a little more pressure on the hand in his pocket and stands on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips.

“Dance with me?” She asks innocently while giving him a flirtatious smile.

“With you, always beautiful.” He smiles back, winking charmingly.

His hands find hers and she begins to dance and jump gracefully to the rhythm of the music as he spins her around, both singing the lyrics to each other with unmatched energy, happy to be together.

“Tonight I'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through.” She sings with a determined voice, taking the musician by the hair and bringing their faces closer.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you.” Luke returns the verse with the same passion, just inches separating their lips. His beautiful and trained voice tends to sound like a more country vibe when he gets carried away and especially in more pop melodies like this, and honestly drives her crazy.

The fact that the rocker at heart gave in to listen to other genres for her and even remembered the lyrics was enough to melt her heart. The last time she was able to let herself go and sing at the top of her lungs like this was with him, listening to a mix of their favorite songs in his car while going for their favorite icecream. Whatever they had was a lot more deeper than what they are willing to admit.

“Did we really just see Luke sing and dance to a pop-country song?” Reggie asks the band, Alex and Bobby behind him laughing at the guitarist who blushes and kisses his date's forehead. “I am not going to discuss this. I'll go get us something to drink." He winks at her and dissapears into the crowd.

“I’ll go too, be right back.” Bobby announces leaving Y/N with Alex and Reggie, who smirk at her.

“It seems that pretending is easier than you thought.” Alex can't stop smiling, Reggie playfully itches the girl's ribs who grins from ear to ear.

"Everything always fits when I'm with him. I ruined my chance. I'm totally aware, and I'm not expecting anything from him, because I honestly don't deserve it. But I plan to enjoy every second of these two weeks that came from heaven to the fullest.”

“You should explain hi-” Before Reggie can finish speaking, Diego appears behind Y/N and tries to forcefully pull her by the arm.

The guys manage to react quickly and release her arm while stepping in front of her. But right away his teammates get behind him.

“Save yourselves the pain, she is going with me.” Diego says confidently, his face showing arrogance.

“Guys, ple-” She tries to stop them from getting hurt, but both step a little forward, determined to protect her no matter the cost.

“You are not taking her, Diego. But you are more than welcome to try.” Alex's voice sounds cool and calm, but Y/N can see how much his hands are shaking and her heart hurts at the sight.

They are all so into their own business that nobody notices the guitarist's return until his lips collide with his girl, who is surprised for a few seconds but immediately recognizes him and gives him space for his tongue to taste her mouth.

They both lose themselves in the kiss for a few seconds longer than necessary and then slowly separate. Y/N grinning from ear to ear as she tries to wipe some of her lipstick off Luke's mouth. He just smirks, as happy as ever.

"Sorry guys, do you need something?" He plays the innocent card. After that kiss, most of the people at the party are watching the scene, so Diego, who looks furious, chooses to leave without saying anything. Right away they can hear a long restrained breath from Reggie and Alex.

“You are a cocky genius, I'm not sure we could have won that one.”

“I’m not sure? Did you seriously think we had a chance?” Alex asks, clearly anxious after what had just happened.

Y/N stands in front of them and throws herself into their arms, whispering how many thanks she can say in a row. They return the hug and begin to relax in each others arms. Bobby and Luke join in the hug, and Luke whispers his own thanks to his friends.

The band decides that it’s time to go and to their surprise, when they let people know that they are going to play at a small club in the center of the city, some decide to follow them. On the way, Y/N spends her time wiping her lipstick off Luke’s face with some wipes she had in her bag, struggling not to press her lips against his every time he made her an adorable grimace or a flirtatious smile.

“You know the drill, beautiful.” Luke turns to see her directly in the eyes, concern on his face just like every time before.

“Front row, not a second out of your sight, so if I need something better wait for you guys to finish performing to get it. Better safe than sorry." She recites, proud to remember every word.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiles a little more calmly, gives her a light kiss on the cheek and starts to help take out the instruments.

They are only doing a few songs from their repertoire, but the energy they transmit drives everyone in the little club crazy. The Sunset Curve members look at a Luke they haven't seen in a long time. The energy and passion in his voice dedicated entirely to the little woman in the front row who sings with all her strength every word and melody, imitating Luke's guitar solos or Alex's drums with her arms.

The 15 students who decided to attend are close to Y/N, trying to get her attention from time to time but nothing can take her eyes off her friends. Not even she knew how much she had missed seeing them play. The look of maximum happiness on their faces.

The last song is one that the little club seems quite familiar with, but she had never heard it before. So it must have been written in the last six months.

“Had my chances, could've been where he is standing.

That's what hurts the most, girl, I came so close

But now you'll never know. Baby, I loved you first.”

The lyrics leave her breathless. Luke, who had made contact with her practically all night, now seems to avoid her eyes like a plague. She definitely has to ask Alex about this song before getting any ideas.

The four bow and get off the stage, Luke launches immediately for Y/N, some of the girls try to get his attention and even try to grab him by the arm or waist but he remains firm until his hands meet his girl's hip.

“What do you think?” Luke's fingers shaking in the grip on her waist tell her he's nervous. The fact that her opinion of them matters so much to him that it makes him feel insecure makes her heart skip a beat.

“It was amazing as always, rockstar.” A huge smile appears on the guitarist's face, who gently takes her face with his hands and kisses her nose. After all, he has to remember that they are only pretending to date and for now he has no good reason to push his lips against hers. It doesn't matter how much he needs her.

The way home is uneventful, Y/N sleeping in Luke's arms while Alex puts the guitarist's red flannel over her.

“Will they ever stop pretending they're ridiculously in love with each other?” Bobby asks Reggie as he turns his head to see the couple.

“They are both stubborn and allergic to real feelings. Especially love. They are so terrified that they have to sabotage themselves somehow.” Alex answers for Reggie who just nods without taking his eyes off the road.

"Do you really have to talk like I'm not here?" Luke asks, resting his chin delicately on the head of the woman in his arms.

Tonight felt unreal. Felt practically like one of the many dreams he has had with the girl throughout these months. Seeing her in his clothes was enough to make the night special, but without a doubt dancing in her arms, savoring every inch of her mouth and seeing her energetically sing each of his songs to end the night with her in his arms is just perfect. Reggie parks at Y/N’s after dropping Alex and Bobby, and as Luke decides how to get her to bed without waking her she sinks deeper into his chest.

"Carry me to the door hotstuff, I like to be in your sexy arms." Luke lets out a cheeky laugh in surprise, another laugh coming from Reggie.

“She’s so asleep, I can’t. Adorable though.” Luke agrees and takes her bag before walking down with her in his arms and carrying her effortlessly to the door.

“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy and complete again.” She murmurs in his ear before giving him a sweet peck in the lips and enter the house.

What the two of them took from tonight is that indisputably, they are both still head over heels for each other. But it was like that the first time and it just wasn't enough.

Days go by with the couple being the school's favorite gossip. People talking in the hallways about the special way Luke looks at his girlfriend, comparisons about the dry way Y/N used to be with Diego compared to how she is with the guitarist, always touching him somehow and spending all the time with him as possible, visibly much happier. Some also talking about how good the band sounds and wondering why they hadn't heard it before. Everything going according to plan.

On Thursday afternoon, Luke arranged to pick her up for the two of them to find him something formal enough for the dance. When Y/N opened the door she met his beautiful greenish hazel eyes, and swears that for a second she forgot how to breathe.

She knows this scene. He smiles sweetly at her, takes her hand and opens the door of the car for her. Multiple interesting memories inside this car coming back to her mind. His firm hands on her legs, his tongue testing her mouth, his hot moans after biting his lower lip...

“Beautiful? Whatcha thinking?” Luke's voice brings her back to the present, his hand goes directly to her thigh as all that many midnight drives and without saying anything he plays the girl's favorite album.

That’s it. If she wants a chance with him, she needs to make this right. “I- We really need to talk.” Hearing the tone of her voice, Luke senses what is coming. He was here before. So he turns off the car that hadn't even started to move yet and turns to look at her.

"I know we've been putting it off, but we have to talk about how it all ended, I-"

Luke interrupts her before she can finish, his voice sounds broken, sad, angry. "I really don't want to talk about how you preferred an idiot for whom you don't feel the remotest thing just because he'll get a football scholarship and this perfect future.”

She spends a few seconds processing his words. Did he really say what she thinks he said? "It wasn't like that, Luke."

"I know it looks like I can't compete with him, but I would have done anything for you. And I thought you knew that.”

She doesn't know what to do or say. She was so unconscious, so selfish, so heartless, that she didn't even think about how he could have understood the situation. In how much he must have suffered these months watching her with Diego, believing he wasn’t good enough. Believing that she chose someone who wasn’t him, because he wasn’t good enough.

He stays quiet, examining the girl who seems about to cling to tears. The anger evaporates instantly and he leans into her seat to wrap his arms tightly around her. She starts sobbing, but seems determined to talk.

“R- Remember the night we met? It was the first Sunset Curve presentation. I had just entered the little club, but your voice dragged me to the front row like a magnet. And when I was finally in front of the stage, I knew it. It was you. The butterflies that everyone talks about for the first time in my stomach. I knew I could never feel again something even close to what I was feeling at that moment.

I got carried away in your voice, dancing to the rhythm of the melody and recording every sound in my head. And when I opened my eyes again, yours were staring at me. And I understood that you felt it too. It was me, and you knew it. It was so natural, powerful, magnetic, deep. I loved you since the first day, Luke. How is that not going to scare me?

When the feelings started to get so strong they burned, I knew I had to run. You always made it very clear that relationships were not your thing, I could not continue to wait for something that from the beginning you made it clear you could not give.

Then Diego arrived at the right time to give me an exit, and I took it. I knew he just wanted to have me around to raise his good boy status, and feeling nothing was safer than feeling too much. So I lied. I lied to you, to me, to everyone. And I’m sorry, but I was so scared. I was a coward who should have done things differently.”

When she finally finishes pulling out what she's been saving for months, she pulls away from Luke to see his face. His eyes look crystal clear, his cheeks red. But his beautiful white smile lights up his face.

"Next time you love me so much that you can't bear it, let me know, please? I can step on your foot or sneeze in your face. I was literally going to ask you to be my girlfriend that weekend. I even wrote you a song."

“You were? The one you sang the other night?”

“Okay, I wrote you a lot of songs. Maybe too many. But the one I'm talking about is different. Maybe I'll let you listen to it one day. If you stick around long enough this time.”

She smirks and kiss him lightly on the lips, enjoying the feeling of being able to. He knows he reacted way too chill. But he also understands her feelings. What is the point of reproaching her for something they can no longer change? A bad decision made by a love so immense that it left her blind. He is simply not willing to waste any more time. They are finally going to do things right. Neither of them is going to self-sabotage it this time, and since he doesn't trust it, he'll put Alex and Reggie in charge to make sure.

The night of the dance arrives. Y/N is wearing a beautiful black dress and her classic red lips. Luke tried his best to look fancy and he's wearing a pretty cool suit but in a sleeveless version. His still fake girlfriend couldn't stop smiling when she saw him. Just perfect.

Dancing in his arms, letting him go only once in a while to dance with the other three members of Sunset Curve made the night amazing. The rest of these two weeks they spent it talking, laughing... making out. Enjoying the most of the time they lost. Even completely forgetting why they were faking it in the first place, until they ask the candidates to take the stage.

"And your king are queen are... Y/N Y/L and Diego Hernandez!"

They all turn to see Luke in shock. Just hearing their names together is enough to make him frustrated, but there's not much he can do right now. And that's when he remembers what he asked the boys to play for the king and queen's first dance. Great, now dance they’ll dance to his song together. Just his damn luck. He sabotaged himself again without imagining it.

They are crowned and Diego offers her his hand, not without first throwing a face of superiority to the guitarist. She walks but continues straight until she is in front of her lover.

Luke looks at her strangely, she smiles at him.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you. Remember?” She sings happily in his ear, and offers her hand.

“Dance with me?” He looks at her adoringly and takes her hand.

“Always, beautiful.”

They walk to the center of the floor, Alex begins to sing the first verse. Y/N rests her head on Luke's chest, her hands around his neck, as he presses her against him by the hip, wrapping her in his arms. His head bent to sing the song in her ear.

“I swear to God, I can see... you're still the girl in the club.”

Tears of happiness begin to flow from Y/N, the words that she never had the opportunity to know, finally getting revealed. Luke's sweet, soft voice in her ear. The perfect melody and the beautiful voice of Reggie and Alex in the background.

“And I need you to know that we're fallin' so fast

We're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love.”

The moment he sings in love, Y/N lifts her head to meet his eyes. He lifts his hands to her cheeks to wipe her tears, gently holding her face to make sure she sees him recite every word.

“And I'm not scared to say those words. With you, I'm safe.

We're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love.”

The second Luke finishes singing, Y/N stands on tiptoe and pushes her lips against his. Tears of happiness continue to fall from her face, wrapped in a passionate, slow, deep kiss. He's all she wants. Her heart chose him since the very first day.

“I can’t believe one of Luke’s random ideas it's what made them find their way back to each other. Reg, we tried for 6 months and we were never even close. Two weeks ‘pretending’ and bam! they are just fine.”

Both watch the happy couple dance now that they are official.

"You know what they say, Fake it till you make it.” Reggie smirks while watching Luke happily kiss Y/N.

“Fair. At least everything was fixed before we shoved Luke into the pool to see if Y/N would rescue him with a mouth-to-mouth kiss."

“We still could try, you know... for science.”

“Cool. Monday works for me. Do you think that even though he didn't win, we still have a chance to win some more fans?”

Reggie raises his head before answering, a smile appears when he sees the bunch of girls and boys who are spying on them just a few meters away. Probably waiting for them to finish talking to get closer.

“I think Sunset Curve will be just fine too, Alex.”

Thank you for reading✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning , @ghostofmgg, @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1

[homoose]

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part IV

Summary: The Halloween parade. Will and JJ are adorable. Anita suggests that Spencer become a classroom volunteer. Reader has a rough week.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a smidge of angst

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 4.4k

a/n: I wish we’d seen more of Will and JJ as parents because I imagine it would be adorable and hilarious. Let’s see if you can guess all of their costumes before the reveal lmao. Your only clue is that Spencer loves keeping with a theme and the brown vest (I literally learned how to make my own shitty gif bc I couldn’t find the right one in the search and I do not understand embedding lmao) makes an appearance.

Series Masterlist

———

“Did you grab the bags?” JJ swept the pleated, platinum braid out of her face as she bent over to zip up her boots.

“No, I thought you did,” Will called, bouncing down the stairs.

“I put them in the car already,” Spencer informed them, popping his head back in the front door. “There was just the one box, right?”

“Yeah, that was it,” Will confirmed. “Shit— where’s Michael’s sword?”

“Should be on the counter,” JJ huffed, standing up and adjusting the bodice of the blue dress.

“Got it.” Will came around the corner of the kitchen, patting his hips where his pockets would be— if he weren’t wearing an adult-sized onesie. “Keys?” Spencer held them up. “All right then, let’s get this show on the road.”

The trio headed to the waiting SUV, Spencer climbing into the backseat as Will and JJ got into the front. Will and JJ chattered on about dinner plans and schedules for the following week, and Spencer smoothed down the brown wool vest layered over his white linen shirt. He’d spent entirely too long putting together the costume over the last week (with a little help from Penelope). He’d scrapped the Spock getup he’d been working on since September— he could always wear that next year. But he’d only get one chance to attend the Room 105 Halloween parade, and once the idea had wormed its way into his brain, he had to make it happen.

“Spence?” JJ’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Would you be able to pick Michael up on Monday?”

He ran his hands down his thighs over the mint green cropped trousers. “Sure, as long as we don’t have a case.”

Will smirked at him in the rear view mirror. “How’s Ms. Y/L/N?”

“You’re about to see her yourself, so you can ask,” Spencer replied.

Will laughed, and JJ turned in her seat. “Whoa, coming in hot with the snark. You really do like her.”

Spencer fought and failed to keep the blush from rising, irritation at being teased blooming sharp inside his chest. He tried to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. “She’s a great teacher.”

“That’s not a no,” JJ noted, eyebrows raised.

“She’s Michael’s teacher,” Spencer said, like it meant something.

“Yeah, so?” Will shrugged his shoulders. “You’re his godfather. Technically, you’re not related, so it wouldn’t be breakin’ any rules.”

“Well, it’s not like that, so it doesn’t really matter,” Spencer insisted.

Will hummed and JJ turned back around in her seat. Spencer drummed his fingers on his knees and watched DC roll past through the SUV window. It really wasn’t like that. Y/N was just… very nice. A nice, beautiful, sweet, silly kindergarten teacher that he couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how many books he read or coffees he drank or chess games he played.

Monday was the last day of his sabbatical, and he was even more relieved to be headed back than usual— grateful that he’d have something to occupy his mind other than her. Because his mind was, indeed, occupied. The way her smile beamed like the spotlight on a stage, illuminating whoever happened to be on the receiving end. The way her hands moved in unbound, buoyant illustrations of her thoughts. The way her laugh felt like the first warm sip of tea or the wrap of his favorite scarf. It was getting out of hand, to say the least.

Will pulled into the parking lot, and instantly Spencer’s palms began to sweat. He glanced at the headband on the seat beside him and felt the mortification clawing at his insides. The costume was ridiculous; he was ridiculous. He should have just worn the Spock outfit.

Maybe he could just wait in the car and pretend like he hadn’t been able to make it. Or he could just leave the headband in the car. But then he’d just be in mint green capris with a sweater vest and platform sandals, and she’d have absolutely no idea who he was supposed to be. Then he’d have to explain it, and it would be even worse.

Will parked the car, and he and JJ immediately stepped out. Spencer watched them near the hood of the SUV, enjoying a rare moment of co-parenting without work hovering right out of frame. Will pulled the hood of the onesie up and JJ laughed, brushing her hand over the brown fabric twigs sticking out of the top. He supposed that if Will Lamontagne, Jr. could strut his stuff in adult footie pajamas, his handmade costume was probably all right.

With one last resigned sigh, Spencer slid the headband on. He grabbed the box of Halloween treats, opened the door, and hauled himself out of the vehicle. He pushed the door closed and looked in the reflection of the window, adjusting the headband around his curls and blowing out a breath.

“Ready?” JJ called, peering around the side of the SUV.

“Yeah—yeah,” Spencer agreed. He moved around the vehicle to join them, the three of them walking to find a spot in the crowd of parents standing around the carpool loop.

When they found a suitable spot, Will looked up at him and shook his head. The sandals added three extra inches to Spencer’s height, putting him a good six inches taller than Will. “Those shoes make you look like an actual giant,” Will chuckled. “I know that’s the point, but I feel like even more of a shrimp next to ya now.”

Spencer set the box of candy bags on the ground and would have shoved his hands into his pockets if the linen trousers had any. Before he could respond, JJ pointed to the door of the school, cooing, “Oh my god, look. Remember when the boys were that small?”

The PreK classes came out first, and Spencer could acknowledge that they were very cute, barely out of the toddler stage and holding hands with a line buddy. But he was waiting on a very specific cutie.

He’d barely had the thought when the kindergarten classes started to emerge from the door. He almost didn’t recognize her at first— just an orange blob and green shrubbery. But the converse gave her away.

“How is she so cute?” JJ threaded her arm through Will’s. “Even when she’s dressed as a giant orange blob.”

“It’s a gift,” Will agreed. He glanced up at Spencer. “Right, doc?”

Spencer nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Y/N. “I think so, yeah.” Will grinned and bumped JJ’s shoulder, but Spencer barely even registered his own response.

Thankfully they’d picked a spot near the very end of the loop, so he had plenty of time to get himself together before she was in front of him. While Will and JJ waved at all the tiny superheroes and princesses, he watched Y/N. She was all orange fabric from her shoulders to her knees, with bright orange Chucks to match. On her head was a strange variation on a party hat, bright green ferns sprouting from the tip of the cone and falling into her face. She looked absolutely ridiculous and entirely adorable, and he was in so much trouble.

When the class finally approached the final curve of the loop, Will nudged Spencer and gestured to the box of goodie bags. Spencer crouched down and lifted the box, standing back up to see Y/N laughing at Will and JJ. “Very cute, Lamontagne Family.”

Her gaze traveled across, then up, and then her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Spencer wondered if maybe the earth could just open up and swallow him whole.

“Oh my god, are you—?” She stepped forward and ran her hand lightly over the vest, and he didn’t dare breathe. “Are you the BFG?!” Her hand dropped from his torso, and he didn’t have time to be disappointed before her face split into quite possibly the biggest smile he’d seen from her yet.

A tiny Superman shouted, “Ms. Y/L/N, we’re making a gap!”

Y/N came back to herself, gesturing to all three of them. “Don’t go anywhere.” She accepted the offered box of treats from Spencer and then turned to help her class catch up.

Will gave him a look. “It’s not like that, huh?”

“Oh my god, she likes you.” JJ clapped her hands together. “This is amazing.”

“I’m takin’ credit for this,” Will bragged. “I’m a regular ol’ matchmaker.”

Spencer couldn’t even be bothered to attempt a denial. He was still thinking about the feel of her palm on his chest, how it might feel to hold her hand, the way her eyes practically sparkled when she saw his ridiculous headband. He was in so much trouble.

Fifteen minutes later, the classes filed back out into the parking lot for dismissal. Y/N led the class down the sidewalk, grinning at the excitement coursing through her line. As they approached the end of the loop, Y/N caught sight of them and waved. The kids lined up in their normal spot, chatting excitedly about their costumes and candy bags.

“Lord, Ms. Y/L/N, you’re something else,” Will laughed.

“Is it not the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen?” She laughed and tapped the green shrubbery hanging in her face. “I have the kids do a little persuasive writing thing every year. They draw a picture and write a sentence about what they think Ms. Y/L/N should be for Halloween, and then we take a vote.”

She waved her hands in that way Spencer loved, the way that was so similar to his own. “Usually the options are pretty tame, you know—ghost, witch, bumblebee. This year was a near tie between runner-up Jojo Siwa and well,” she gestured at herself, “carrot.” Y/N cackled, and the leaves on top of her head shook with the action.

They all laughed along with her, and then JJ added, “The details are truly incredible. Is this an actual plant on your head?”

“I really thought about it,” Y/N laughed, “but no, it’s just fake ferns stuffed into a cardstock funnel.” She gestured at Will and JJ. “But also, excuse me— this family costume is ridiculously cute. Mr. Lamontagne, loving this onesie. Mrs. Jareau, I didn’t even know it was possible to look prettier than you usually do, but here you are. And Michael’s Anna costume?” She held her hands up. “Incredible. Show stopping. I wish I had an aunt Penelope to enlist the help of, because that cape is the actual height of fashion.”

“She helped Spence, too,” JJ prompted, stealing a glance in his direction.

“Oh yeah?” Y/N asked, turning to smile at Spencer.

“We um, 3D printed the ears,” he clarified.

“No way!” She took a step closer to him, peering up at the detail on the headband. He leaned down a little for her to get a closer look. “That is so cool. I’ve never actually seen anything 3D printed up close before— did you design them yourself?”

She met his eyes briefly, and he realized how close they were— close enough that he caught the faintest whiff of sandalwood and cardamom. Of course she even smelled like warmth and home. “Well. I, um— I drew a sort of sketch, I guess. And then Penelope did the software coding. I— I’m not very good with technology, honestly.”

She ran her fingers lightly over the plastic, and he decided she was really trying to kill him. “Yeah, I’m not sure I really understand how it works.”

“Well, first you create a blueprint file of the design you want to print, which you can do through modeling software or three-dimensional scanning. Then you convert the file into an STL file— named for Stereolithography which was the first ever 3D printing process. The STL file is made up of triangular mesh polygons, which is the data that describes the surface of a three-dimensional object. After that, you use a software program to complete the process of slicing— essentially dividing or chopping the 3D model into hundreds or thousands of horizontal layers that the printer can print one at a time to create the 3D object. And then the printer prints each layer until you have your finished product.”

Y/N was quiet, and he pulled back to see her grinning at him. “I thought you said you weren’t very good with technology?”

“I’m not good with using technology,” he clarified.

She nodded. “Gotcha. So you just know everything about it.”

Her joking tone had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I read a lot.”

“How much is a lot?”

“I can read at a rate of 20,000 words per minute, so… a lot.”

Her eyebrows shot up into the tangle of ferns on her head, and he was just so overwhelmed by how adorable she was. “Well, if I ever have a question about anything, I know who I’m coming to.”

He was sure he was blushing, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. “I’m happy to answer any and all of your questions.”

She let her gaze travel over the rest of the costume. “Oh my god, the sandals! Man, you really nailed it. I’m very impressed.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I thought about being Trunchbull, but I couldn’t find the sweatshirt,” he joked.

She laughed, and he wanted to bottle it up to keep forever. “As much as I would have loved to see your hair in a bun… you’re much too sweet to have been able to pull that off.” She smiled softly at him. “Much more suited to our friend the BFG.”

He rubbed a hand down the back of his neck, and it was only then that he realized Will and JJ had gone to the car. He looked back to Y/N, opening his mouth but unsure of what he was going to say.

“Y/L/N!” He turned his head to see Anita jogging toward them. “Did you—” The giant cardboard box she was wearing knocked into one of the few kindergarteners left in Y/N’s line, nearly sending them to the ground. “Oh my gosh, sorry sweetheart!” She righted the startled child, and Spencer gave her a once over, completely at a loss as to what her costume could be.

“What in the world are you supposed to be?” Y/N asked, choking out a laugh.

Anita looked at her deadpan. “A monopoly piece. Remind me that I’m never participating in team costumes ever again.” She rolled her eyes and gestured at Y/N. “Next year I’m gonna wear an orange t-shirt, call myself a carrot, and be much more comfortable.”

“I’ll have you know this costume was a lot of work,” Y/N remarked, crossing her arms.

“I’m sure it was. You could have put on an orange dress, stuck a green pipe cleaner in your hair, and called it a day, but that’s not the Y/L/N way.” Anita’s eyes slid across to where Spencer stood. “Well, hello, doctor. I have absolutely no idea what you’re supposed to be, but I love everything about it.”

“Spencer’s the BFG,” Y/N said, and Spencer could have sworn she sounded almost proud.

“Ah, Roald Dahl, of course.” Anita smirked. “I see you, Spencer. I see you.” She put her hands on her hips— or rather where her hips would have been if they weren’t covered by a ridiculously large box. “So, when are you going to volunteer?”

“Sorry?” he asked.

“Like, when are you going to volunteer in Y/L/N’s classroom?” She held up her hand, palm down, and made a circular motion between the two of them. “You know, hang out, but professionally.”

“Oh my god, did you need something?” Y/N’s squeaked, eyes wide.

Anita ignored her. “You just have to do a background check, but I’m sure you’ll pass it.”

“Lopez,” Y/N said, staring her down. “Do you need something?”

“Oh, I was just going to ask if you got the email about the PD after school on Tuesday. But this was much more fun.” She winked at Spencer. “Bye, Spencer.”

They both stared after her as she nearly skipped across the grass to the building. Y/N turned to him. “I’m— so sorry.”

He met her eyes and took the leap. “Volunteering could be fun.”

He watched her press her lips together to contain her smile. “It could be.”

He didn’t bother containing his own. “I’ll um— I’ll shoot you an email.”

“I’ll respond to your email.”

…

When he walked in the door, Spencer made a beeline for his desk. He opened his laptop and pulled up his email account, writing as fast as his one-finger typing would allow.

Spencer Reid Re: Volunteering

Hi!

I’m just following up about volunteering. Anita mentioned a form that I needed to fill out? Now that I’ll be back to work, I’ll just need to plan around the BAU schedule. Could you give me a list of days that would work for you?

Really looking forward to seeing you in action.

Spencer

He checked his two other email messages, and then left the browser up while he thumbed through his most recent reading material.

He sat at his desk for the remainder of the afternoon, distractedly perusing his book and glancing at his empty inbox every minute or so. His gaze flew up to the screen at the ding of a new message at 6:30, only to find a promotional email from one of his favorite indie bookstores.

He closed his laptop with a sigh. It was a Friday night. Y/N probably just didn’t check her email on the weekend. He could wait until Monday. He’d see her on Monday.

He limited himself to checking his laptop twice a day on Saturday and Sunday. When Monday rolled around, he checked it in the morning. He leaned back against the leather of his chair, staring at the empty inbox. He had some errands to run, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had a phone that had email on it.

He ran his last-day-of-sabbatical errands and stopped in at his favorite coffee shop for most likely the last midday, sit-down coffee he’d have for a while. Before he realized, it was 2:30. He brought his empty mug to the counter and waved to the barista. Then he walked to the car and prepped his conversation starters.

“Did you get my email? I sent you an email, just wondering if you saw it? Hey— Hello— Hi, I wasn’t sure if you got my email.” He blew out a breath. “Hi. How are you?” He waved his hand. “I’m great. Did you get my email?” He laughed into the empty car. “Ridiculous, Spencer. You’re ridiculous.”

When he pulled into the parking lot, his heart was racing and his palms were slipping against the steering wheel. He pulled around the loop, looking with a furrowed brow at the area where Y/N should be. In her place was a short woman with cropped grey hair. She held a clipboard and looked generally overwhelmed.

Michael sprinted to the car as soon as he saw it. He pulled open the door and let out a world weary sigh. Spencer turned in his seat. “Everything all right?”

“No, everything is terrible,” he huffed dramatically. “Ms. Y/L/N was sick today. Mrs. Franklin was our substitute, and she smells weird.”

Spencer looked through the window at Mrs. Franklin, struggling to keep a few rowdy boys in the line. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m sure Ms. Y/L/N will be back soon.” He was secretly relieved that he had a potential explanation for the unanswered email.

“I can’t take another day of Mrs. Franklin,” Michael sighed, buckling his seatbelt. “I hope Ms. Y/L/N’s back tomorrow.”

Spencer let out a breath and pulled away from the curb. “Me, too.”

…

JJ huffed out a breath, glaring at the stack of paperwork in front of her. Spencer was nose deep in a book, but he glanced up at the sound. “I can take a few of those if you want,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine,” she sighed. “I’ve really only got six left.”

He looked at his watch. “Each report takes you approximately 37 minutes. With eight minute breaks in between, you’re not going to be out of here until almost 6:00.”

JJ laughed. “I can’t believe I missed out on these scathing performance reviews for thirty days.”

“Suit yourself.” Spencer dropped his gaze back to his reading.

His first week back from sabbatical had been uneventful to say the least. The team had just wrapped a local case, and they’d spent the better part of the week going over consultations and potentials. It was finally Friday, and Spencer was finished with his stack of backlogged reports.

He was finishing the last chapter of the book when JJ dropped a string of quiet curses. He continued reading, waiting for her to ask. She was quiet for another minute.

“I forgot I’m on duty to pick Michael up today.” Spencer looked up at her, slight panic coming over him.

“I really don’t mind finishing your reports,” he offered.

JJ raised her eyebrows. “What, no offering to visit Ms. Y/L/N?”

Spencer closed his book. “I, um. I sent her an email a week ago, and she hasn’t responded.”

“So?”

“So…” Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “That’s weird, right?”

JJ laughed. “You don’t really use email, so I’d imagine your inbox is pretty orderly. But if you use it a lot, it can be easy for messages to get lost.” She looked at him pointedly. “I can almost guarantee that she’s not ignoring you, Spence.”

He sighed. “I guess there’s a quick way to find out.”

...

Spencer drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, watching the door of the school. He glanced at the clock, noting the class was later than they’d ever been. Without really understanding why, he pulled out of the loop and swung back around to park in the lot. He exited the car, and as he rounded the hood, he spotted them.

Y/N was at the front of the line, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket and mouth pressed into a thin line. The line behind her was unlike he’d ever seen it. No waving arms, no smiles, no giggles. Twenty small bodies followed behind her with absolute and total solemnity, and he felt uncomfortable just watching them. It would have almost been funny if it wasn’t so dramatically out of character.

The line weaved around the more rambunctious classes, maintaining their grave expressions and quiet pace. They reached their spot on the sidewalk, and Y/N didn’t even have to say anything. Spencer watched as the line took their spots behind her. She held one hand up to acknowledge parents as they pulled up, murmuring stoic goodbyes to students as they headed to their vehicles.

He hung back at the hood of the car until the majority of the class was gone, slowly making his way across the parking lot. Y/N’s line of sight was pointed in his direction, but her eyes were unfocused in the afternoon sun. He could see the moment that she registered his presence, her eyes widening slightly and bottom lip releasing from the place she’d been absentmindedly chewing. She shifted her weight as he closed the final few feet between them.

“Hi.” She held a silent hand up in greeting. He clenched and unclenched his fingers. “Rough day?”

“It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, despite what everyone thinks,” she snapped. She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes up to the perfectly blue sky, mocking her mood. “I’m sorry. Yes, it was a rough day.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“You don’t deserve my wrath.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the students. “They didn’t either, but— too late for that.”

He watched as she lowered her head back down, rubbing a hand over her face. He desperately wanted to slay whatever dragons had given her normally brilliant eyes such a grey cast. “You have strong relationships with them, and kids are resilient. I’m sure they know you—”

“Please— don’t.” Her voice was thick, and she looked at him with desperate eyes. “I— I appreciate the thought, but I’m— I’m a frustrated crier.” Her shining irises proved her point. “And I’m just— I’m really just trying to keep it together for the last four minutes of my contract time.” Her words were practically a whisper, and she swallowed thickly and glanced down the line, just Michael and one classmate left, eyes downcast.

“I understand.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out and touching her. “I’m sorry. I— I hope your weekend is better than today.”

Michael slowly left the line, murmuring a quiet goodbye to Y/N. Spencer put a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the car, stealing one last glance at a crushed Y/N.

...

Y/N Y/L/N

Re: Re: Volunteering

Hi,

I meant to respond to this email, and then a bunch of things happened, and then I was out all week.

I don’t know if you even still want to volunteer after this afternoon, but it felt rude to not respond at all.

I’ve attached the background check form to this email in case you’re still interested.

Y/N

1 Attachment: Background Check

—

Hi,

I meant what I said this afternoon. Your students love you, and they know you love them. If my conversation with Michael in the car was any indication, they’re feeling rightfully embarrassed and guilty about their behavior while you were out.

Regardless of what happened today, your relationships with your students are strong enough that they will come to school tomorrow knowing that you still care about them. Children don’t hold onto things nearly as much as adults.

It would be a privilege to volunteer in your classroom, even on the worst day.

Spencer

1 Attachment: Background Check - Spencer Reid

—

If I wasn’t already crying, I would be now.

Thanks for that.

No sarcasm intended. Really. Thank you.

—

This might be inappropriate, and if it is, please just pretend like this email doesn’t exist.

I have a favorite cafe in the DuPont circle area, Soho Tea & Coffee. They have an excellent tea drink made with honey and milk that I like to order whenever I’ve had a particularly difficult day.

If you’re up for it, it’s on me.

———

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Permanent tags: @andiebeaword​ @averyhotchner​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @shadyladyperfection​ @coffeeandendlesswords​ @justanothetfangirl​ @no-honey-no​ @ajeff855

[mintseesaw]

Mad Passion | 2

Pairing: namjoon x reader Genre: arranged marriage au, smut, angst, fluff Word count: 14k Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, graphic sexual content, unprotected sex Summary: As you become emotionally invested with your marriage, you have grown accustomed to being Namjoon’s wife. Not until you realize you barely have an idea what it is really like to be his wife.  *unedited

Part I | sequel 

The midnight moon illuminates vibrantly on the clear, dark blue-ish sky— a clear view from the sky high cocktail bar and lounge, of which is about to approach its peak hours, serving exclusively to the hotel guests.

The four and a half thousand square foot space is indeed a perfect place to unwind minus the bustling crowd and unnecessary loud music. Among the tables neatly scattered in the open air terrace, the two men occupied the miniscule pavilion situated on the right corner of the sky high rooftop, the farthest possible spot from the little crowd growing as the night progresses.

Seokjin and Namjoon are currently on a business trip. Namjoon rarely joins him on his international-scale meetings one as he isn’t an expert of the global market of fisheries like Jin himself. This time, however, it was Namjoon who initiated the trip to meet a good number of businessmen to secure a majority vote on the retail corporation he had invested in several months ago. He was new to this particular field, which was why Jin was here with him. 

Jin was with him all through the course of said meetings. As Namjoon’s schedule abroad concluded today, it was safe to say the result of these meetings posed a good sign. Namjoon will soon take over another company. Of course, Jin wouldn’t let the night pass without them celebrating. He could’ve invited the rest of the group if they came along on the trip. So it was only the two of them who are celebrating, as Jin insists to call it. Namjoon could have turned it down, and calling his wife appeals to him more, but he really needs a proper drink even if Jin under the influence of alcohol means having to endure his annoying ass for an hour or two. “Your wife doesn’t have any idea on all of this, does she?” Jin nonchalantly asks, the alcohol cleansing his palate refreshingly from the numerous glasses he had. They had been in the pavilion for over an hour or two, he’s not certain.

Namjoon gave him a stern look, almost feigning innocence on the question his friend suddenly threw at him. “Know what?” There it was, the annoying side of Jin. Jin smirks, shaking his head. He could read his friend like the back of his hand. Amongst the group, he knows Namjoon the longest. Even with the passive expression he always wears, Jin could easily see through him.

“She doesn’t know? You’re screwed, Kim.” By now, both have already had a decent amount of alcohol in their system. The younger one, however, doesn’t appear as fuzzy as the older one. “She doesn’t need to know about my business affiliations. It would not matter what she would think of it.” He remarks, before emptying the liquor in his glass. His reply only made Jin snorted. “I bet you don’t.” He muses before continuing, “No doubt, it would be a pleasure to meet the woman who stole your heart. Hoseok told me a lot of things about you and her. I’d like to confirm it myself. After all, it’s been months since you secretly changed your marital status.” Also, he ought to know why Namjoon seems to talk too little about his wife, as if he was avoiding the subject itself. Namjoon’s eyebrow shots up. “Confirm what, exactly?”  “How smitten you are to the woman.” Namjoon leans his back on the couch, “Shut it, Hyung.” He shrugs, eliciting too little expression that only fuels Jin’s amusement further. Crossing his leg to the other, he continues to nag his friend. “I thought I’d never see the day, my friend. Have I not mentioned how surprised we were learning about your marriage in a newspaper?”

“You did, you couldn’t seem to move on from it, can you?”

“How can I? You didn’t even us at your wedding!”

“I already told you why.”

“Well, you have to give the girl a proper wedding. That is… if you already bear feelings for her.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“Did you ask her? Girls like those romantic shit.” Jin concludes, his own experience being his reference.

“The marriage is a part of the deal, Hyung.” He says in an indifferent tone, a pretense he had mastered through the years of his experience in the industry. Jin already knew the story behind his marriage, but the rare chance of pissing his friend off tempts him as always.

“If you don’t love the girl, you can easily get a divorce once you have secured the position. With the influence you have over the Korean government, there’s no way you can’t be granted a simple request.” Jin continues to press, enjoying the look of irritation growing on Namjoon’s face. Namjoon chose to keep quiet, distracting himself with pouring alcohol in his glass.

“What do you think the princess would feel if her castle has already been claimed by her King long before her father steps down on his throne?” Jin queries in a teasing manner.

“You forgot to mention she had long abandoned her throne. She already lost the title when she left.” Namjoon was quick to answer back.

Jin smirks, “Touché.” Namjoon purses his lips, letting the air be filled with silence. At the mere mention of the lost princess that is his wife, his mind wanders off. It’s been almost a week since he last saw his wife.  He misses her that no amount of alcohol could suffice. Although he consistently calls you every day, it was not enough to make peace with his mind. How should he converse with you to prolong the conversation? He loves hearing you talk endlessly, regardless of what it is about. The conversations feel restricted. Whether it was because of his intimidating self or you’re merely not interested to talk to him—he has yet to know why.

What is certain, though, is he will finally come home tomorrow.

Mingyu quietly turns the ignition on the moment you climb inside the passenger’s side. Silence has awkwardly ruled between the two of you since two weeks ago especially when you don’t initiate a conversation, yourself. His actions are always calculated alongside the formality in his voice whenever you attempt to have a casual conversation with him.

And you figured, he might have been instructed not to entertain your friendly gestures, much less converse with you.

You find his awkward but formal disposition adorably hilarious, which sometimes make you laugh out loud, that in return, earns you questioning look from him.

Since his post as personal security detail two weeks ago, Mingyu always lingers on your whereabouts. The role he plays is obviously a college student, casually eating on a table far away from your usual spot, or pretending to read books in the library when you’re studying so he could unnoticeably guard you around. The pretense alone is a dangerous task, you presume, because he is an eye catcher and he has to stay low-profile not to gets busted.

You don’t even know how they can roam around the vicinity of the campus without alerting the security department. When you say ‘they’, you’re generally referring to the team of agents responsible for your well-being. After the incident involving your friend and one of them weeks ago, they have visually disappeared. But you were not that dense to believe they’re literally gone. For all you care, they are just scattered everywhere, pretending to be whoever they are. Namjoon is too smart to have the same men follow you around. If he intentionally wants to make you think he has removed an entire team in your care, he would strategically have new faces to do the job. As if Mingyu’s presence will make you believe that he’s the only person that guards you.

Until now, you couldn’t believe your husband selected Mingyu as your shadow amongst the couple of hundreds working under his security agency. Knowing he’s territorial when it comes to the male acquaintances you have, it makes you there’s an underlying reason for it. Perhaps, is it trap to test your loyalty? But the probability of it being true is too low, because why would your loyalty matter to him in the first place?

When Namjoon married you several months ago, not only has your life changed, but your feelings too. You used to dislike the thought of being forced into a marriage with him, with someone you barely know, with someone who has so many similarities with your father.

It wasn’t just a simple attraction that you have developed towards him, nor was the socio-economic status he has. There is not even extraordinarily admirable about his personality that could justify your feelings—that unavoidably blossomed through time.

He was not the typical guy, of course. Men his age are probably enjoying the time of their lives, partying and all that stuff or perhaps, struggling to even get a decent job that would financially support themselves. He was not the romantic type of guy. Sweet talks, knows how to make you feel giddy, charms his way to your heart— he is far from that. Strange, how he still unknowingly earns more brownie points the longer you live with him, despite the uncertainty.

The awkward tension between you two have improved after months of having formal and painfully monotonous interactions. Perhaps, the rare intimacy has helped you open up to him more casually.

Despite that, you couldn’t rest your mind with the fact that your relationship with him lacks emotional commitment.

While he has the money and power at such a young age, you have nothing but student loans and your father’s last name. While he sees to your every need, it was never really established what you two are aside from the arrangement of your marriage. Unfortunately, it was just that. There may be papers which legally conclude your matrimony as husband and wife, but there’s no certainty of mutual, requited feelings. Every single day that comes and goes around, you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing that the marriage had been alternatively a result of a conventional, romantic affair. Part of you wishes he could, at least, learn to reciprocate your feelings for him.

He asked you on a date before, the first and only one so far. It turned out as expected— a little awkward because he basically rented the restaurant leaving you two alone in the spacious, luxurious place which meant having to endure silence while he enjoys his food as you try to think of things that you could talk to him about. It was, nevertheless, sweet because you have not predicted he would be thoughtful enough to know the food that you like, having it served as the main course.

Since the date, Namjoon never really spoke about it or anything that may hint another one. You’re ashamed to even admit that you’re eager to know what he feels for you, now.

Has it changed?

~

It didn't take long before you arrive at the apartment.

Without waiting for your guard, you went straight to the bedroom, the same one you share with him. Despite his absence for six days, the scent of his signature perfume still lingers in the vicinity.

Heaving a sigh, you huff on the mattress, allowing your muscles to relax, and allow your mind to wander into nothingness.

Earlier, you magically crammed mind-draining essays due today as well as made progress on your provisions for your upcoming midterms. The mere thought of it all makes you want to take a nap before proceeding with your papers, again.

After a moment of silence, you decided to have a long, warm bath instead. It’s been ages since the last time you had one since you have a waiting husband in mind whenever you’re using the bathroom even though he has several spares in his penthouse.

You did just that. And about half an hour, the comforting and relaxing warmth seeping through every part of your body, and the peppermint scented diffuser further lets your mind float elsewhere. Before you know it, you have lurked farther into the depth of your endless thoughts, slowly leading you where darkness and dreamland meet. You woke startled by an endless sound of a familiar tone ringing. And as your eyes strained by the blinding light, you mindlessly search for the source. You couldn’t seem to find where it was coming from, although you know it was your phone. The mere sound of it tells it was not in the bathroom. Where did you place it, anyway?

Still dazed with the traces of your unsolicited nap, you carefully but swiftly climb out of the tub, grabbing the towel on top of the counter to quickly dry your body. You found it on top of the bedside table. The eerie silence inside the room made the sound echo all throughout, that you feel your ears bleed as it continuously rings.

Your thumb slides on the screen after you took a brief glance at the caller.

Your abandoned, dripping hair sticks irritatingly on your nape, soaking your towel as you forget to put on a robe.

“You’re not answering my calls.” Namjoon greets, his voice unrecognizably low.

What time is it there, again? You wonder. “Sorry, I dozed off in the tub.” You replied too quickly, words jumble in your mind as they stumble out of your mouth. Listening to the words seems wrong when you have come to understand what you said.

“You what?” He asks, sounding puzzled. A trace of concern laces in his voice more than anything, although you were too flushed to take the hint. “Uhh... Yeah, I fell asleep. Sorry about that...” You sheepishly falter. As you wait for his reply, you hear some shuffling instead on the other line. 

Your mind still is blank as white while struggling to come up with a better reply. 

“I heard that, but you fell asleep? In the tub? That’s not safe.” He probably just woke up. Perhaps, that must be why his voice is extra low, though he calls you every night and it sounded quite normal in his previous calls. “Right, I’m fine though. It’s not like I would drown or something.” You try to joke.

The silence lingers for a few seconds, before you hear him speak on the other line. “You should have rested instead of taking a bath.” He lightly scolds over the phone.

A chuckle bubbles past your throat, nodding in agreement. That was your initial plan. “I will...eventually.”

“Busy?”

This time, you hear people talking in the background. He’s in his hotel room, right?

“Just about. I had a long day, spent most of my free time in the library. I presumed, Mingyu already told you that, right?”

At the mention of his name, you didn’t see the way Namjoon’s eyebrows rose, as something weak but ugly feeling stirs inside him. “Hanbin communicates with him.”

Your mouth fell into an ‘o’, nodding as if he could see you. “Oh, right. He’s fine, right? I mean you approved of him as my guard?”

“Yes. Why do you ask? I trust that you’ll tell me if he ever acts inappropriately and I’ll make sure—“

“No, no, he’s okay, I mean… uh, he’s actually really formal.” You stammer, slowly growing flustered at the way you have spoken about Mingyu. The subject itself doesn’t really interest you, it’s just that you don’t want him to be dragged into Namjoon’s territorial issues especially when he’s not around.

Not only is Mingyu a taller version of Namjoon’s physique, he is also as attractive as your husband, which didn’t matter to you as Namjoon pretty much owns your heart, that you didn’t choose to.

“Good. I’m also expecting you to behave while I’m gone.” He warns playfully.

You scoff, returning the playfulness of his tone. “When have I not?”

“Of course. You’re a good girl for me, yeah?” He casually prods although the impact of his words seem to have struck you somewhere. 

You bit your lip, started pacing back and forth with the towel as the only cover in your body. What would he feel if you tell him that?

You decided to change the subject, “Hey, listen… uh… I heard your birthday is approaching.” You begin, recalling the conversation you had with the housekeeper. This would be your first time spending his birthday with him.

“Uhuh...” He trails, silently telling you to keep going.

“Do you have plans for it?” You nervously ask, biting your nail in agitation as you kept going around the vicinity of the room.

Being a part of the elite social class means birthdays are extravagantly celebrated. You had them when you were young. Yet, Namjoon has not mentioned to you about his birthday plans, if he has any.

“Plans?” He echoes with a curious tone.

“I mean parties and stuff.” You immediately clarified back.

“Angel, I don't celebrate birthdays.” He says in a casual tone as if he was just telling you a random piece of information.

Taken aback by his response, you repeated what he said in a form of question. “You don’t?” Namjoon has not sensed the change of tone in your voice.

“I don’t. I have to go, baby. I will call you again. Hmm?” He didn’t even wait for your reply, ending the call right away.

He doesn’t celebrate his birthday? 

Namjoon, who obviously has all the resources in the world to organize the most luxurious social events, happens to have disinterests celebrating his birthday?

You mean, you have too little enthusiasm toward social gatherings but that doesn’t mean you don’t celebrate your birthday. Even when you barely have enough savings to pay for your bills, you couldn’t let your birthday pass without treating yourself or spending the day with your friends.

It sounds weird, at the same time, lonely to hear that he disregards such an occasion enough to make your heart tug painfully. He must have had a horrible childhood, you thought. Or perhaps, he’s merely not fond of any kind of celebration. It shouldn’t be a big of a deal, right?

Slight dismay washes through you at the abruptness of the call.

What is it about him being away that bothers you? Is it his safety, your safety or...his mere absence?

For the nth time since Namjoon left for his business trip, you had slept through your alarm which only meant you were late again in your first class.

The day progresses rather slowly. When it feels like you’ve spent ages sitting inside the lecture theatre, barely listening to half the professor was saying turns out to be just a couple of minutes whenever you check the time on your phone.

After what felt like a day, your break comes rolling around. Bearing the effect of sleep deprivation, your walk towards the dining hall was unusually sluggish. Fortunately, Jihyo was already on the table of your usual spot waiting when you arrived. 

Your shadow has yet to make his presence known which seems odd as he always tail you far behind, at the same time, intentionally allowing you to spot him wherever he is.

With his height, you could easily see the top of his head through the crowd, only that you didn’t need to look around because he’s in front of you and Jihyo, slightly wide-eyed with Jackson on his left, the former seemingly forced to be here.

Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. Though your friends knew you’re being guarded by him, they never really showed intention to befriend him.

“What’s going on Wang? Mingyu-ssi?” Jihyo seems amused at the mere sight, holding back her laughter as she notices the discomfort written in the poor handsome boy’s face. Your bodyguard surprisingly fits well in his all black casual attire like as if he is sporting a bad boy college student vibe. You couldn’t even point anything suspiciously odd with the way he casually holds himself as if he has his own world, not minding others’ business.

Jackson plops on the vacant seat across Jihyo’s and drags Mingyu on the seat next to him. He obligingly follows suit.

“He seems nicer and harmless than the other ones, Y/N. Had to befriend him before he makes me his next target.” Mingyu gazes at him with his sharp gaze that strangely reminds you of your husband’s stare.

“I can perfectly hear you.” He formally says to your friend, which presumably meant alternative to warning him.

Jackson paid no mind on the harmless threat, giving Mingyu a friendly smack on the back instead. “I know, bud. I’m not the enemy here, is what I’m trying to tell you.” He quips, which made Jihyo chuckle in return. Mingyu peers in your direction, then goes back to Jackson’s and Jihyo’s in utter confusion.

He probably has no idea what transpired before.

“You didn’t know?” Jackson attempts to confirm with a question.

“What?” Mingyu immediately asks back.

His act of ignorance isn’t believable enough for you. On his first day as your guard, you were stunned at how proficient he seemed to be on his pretense for someone who barely knows his way around the campus as if he’s been here before.

Shaking the thought away, you chose to butt in, “Don’t give him ideas.”

Jackson’s eyes slightly widen in realization. “You’re right. Anyways, I’m officially inviting you to eat lunch with us everyday. Is it a yes or a yes?”

Mingyu stares at him, dumbfoundedly.

“Shut up, Wang.” Jihyo laughs and then turns her head to meet Mingyu’s curious eyes. “Ignore him, but you’re always welcome to sit with us, just in case you’re allowed to— you know, eat with us.”

You only nodded in agreement.  

If he ever considers it, he never showed any sign that he did as he ate silently the whole time while he listened to the three of you converse endlessly.

Like the past few days, the home feels different and strange without the towering owner lurking around the spacious vicinity like the king, himself. Namjoon never really confirmed when he will be back. He had not brought it up again after he once mentioned that the trip would take him a week. Perhaps, longer? It’s been a week. You don't know how long you’d manage without seeing him. His absence, as you first thought, would be a sense of breather for you for the first time since the marriage happened. But as days rolled around, you only hope for the week to end so you could see him again.

The longer you ponder over the thought of missing him, the harder it is to ignore the ache on the pit of your stomach, and desire pooling between your legs. The temperature on your body feels strangely higher considering it’s not yet summer and the room is fully air conditioned like the rest of the apartment. Your hair was pulled up in a bun, clothes thrown haphazardly on the cold, bathroom floor as you skimmed inside naked without bothering to close the door.

You let the shower run as you gradually get used to the feel of the water on your skin, your body shudders ever so lightly as you step under the running water, cautious enough not to get your hair soaked in the process. Shortly after, your shoulders slug as the water finally cools down your body, your insides almost relaxing.

You drew a long sigh, eyes closing, loving the therapeutic sensation of water as it soaks your body.

It wasn’t until you felt strong arms encircling your waist from behind that the heat spirals back into your body, especially in your lower region.

Their clothed body molding perfectly against your naked back as they pull your body impossibly closed. It was too sudden, and you were probably too lost in your own thoughts that you failed to hear any strange sounds, footsteps even. A shriek of surprise went past your throat, harshly squirming in reflex. You're too shocked to process who it is until he made a hush sound, calming you down. His lips found your naked shoulder, further making himself known through his gestures. “It’s me.” The familiar voice whispers next to your ear. Your violent movements instantly halted, but the shock still is evident through erratic beating of your heart. “Joon?” you softly call, trying to peer behind to have a proper look on him. In a teasing manner, he kisses your other shoulder, ruining your intent while your body is kept locked on his arms. By now, his clothes are already soaked against your back as wet as your hair as the running water continues to shower you both. And just as his lips found your nape, his hand cups one of breasts, softly squeezing the mound, his fingers gently pinching the pink nub. Your hand mindlessly flew to the hand on your waist that is keeping your body close to his, gripping it tight enough that your knuckles are turning white. Your eyelids fell shut at the sudden sensation, biting your lip to suppress any sound from your throat. His hand didn’t stop the gentle tormenting on your breast, his warm, sinful mouth now assaulting the skin on your neck, sucking it until the spot turns purple. The mere contact is enough to make you dizzy in need, intensely lighting your long overdue desire. And then the sensation stops all at once, his hand gone and his nose nuzzling your now-soaked hair. “J-Joon...” you softly beg. He didn’t answer, yet you could hear his ragged breathing, his crotch pressing hotly on your back. “Please,” you impatiently murmur. “Hmm...” Hums Namjoon, feeling his lips on your temple. “Please let me see you,” Your voice almost breaks. It’s been a week since you last saw him, his absence certainly overwhelmed you achingly.

His lack of response drives you into frustration. Then he swiftly spins you around, his hand on your hip pushes you further until your back is pressed flat on the cold tiled wall. Palms planted on either side of your face, entrapping you.

Your mouth left agape at the sight of him. His soaked white dress shirt, clinging to his torso like a second skin, further accentuating his lean body, his dripping wet slacks evidently showing the bulge of his arousal. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight, suddenly wanting to feel it under your touch, have your mouth and tongue taste him.

But you were too nervous to initiate a move. He continues to torment you under his wanton gaze, as if challenging you to protest against his captive. His eyes then roamed over the length of your body, feasting the view beneath his lashes, “Beautiful.” His fingers caught your chin, tilting it so he could look into your eyes.

His mouth draws nearer, until it lands on the wet skin of your cheek. He mumbles against your skin, “You have no idea how much I missed seeing your pretty face. Did you miss me, sweetheart?” Your eyes closing shut, nodding. “Yes,” You manage to say, while finding the strength to rub your palms sensually on his forearms that would hopefully coax him to initiate a move. He only hums in return, to your dismay. The running water from the shower head has stopped. Namjoon probably turned it off although it was too late as his whole body is already dripping with water.

His mouth is so close to yours, teasingly hovering over the corner of your mouth. When you ever so lightly tilt your head to the side, your lips caught his supple ones. Your delicate fingers found his cheeks, deepening the kiss. A groan vibrates on his chest, the weeks worth of abstinence has not been too kind for him, and he would undoubtedly break you if he suddenly loses the control he’s been nurturing instead of his desire.

Your actions, however, are doing so little for your own good. To your dismay, he was reacting too little, maintaining a minimal response. “Joon, please...” You mumble in between kisses.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” “I-I... I want you.” You moan, your voice almost failing you from the overwhelming heat of your desire.

The burning ache on his abdomen only intensifies at the mere sound of your begging. “You have me.” He says back in a soft voice, nuzzling your cheek while keeping a safe distance between your bodies. When your hand dares touch his crotch, a low growl rumbles on his chest, swiftly catching your hand on his, restraining your very intention. Tears pool in your eyes in desperation. And as much as you want him to fuck you senseless right this second, the desire to taste him was too intense and stronger to just set the thought aside. “Let me touch you... Joon, please...” His breathes quicken, refusing to entertain your offer. But it didn’t mean his desire is not spiraling wildly, his member twitching painfully the more your pleas feed his ears. His head momentarily threw back, and you use it as an opportunity to shuffle on your knees, your hands quickly found his crotch. Taken aback by your bold eagerness, he hisses harshly as your delicate fingers found his bulge. His intent to drag you back on your feet vanishes as he took in the sight of his naked goddess— blazing eyes returning his stare while hovering over his sensitive arousal. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He curses when you impatiently palms him while your other hand trembles as it attempts to unbuckle his belt. Helplessly murmuring, “Help me...” when you couldn’t seem to do it on your own. At your helpless plea, Namjoon quickly came to rescue your little dilemma. No more than a second, his large hand swiftly unbuckles his belt, your hand greedily undid his buttons, and tug his boxers enough to release his hard member. A gasp falls on your lips, taken aback at the sudden jolt of his thick cock against his stomach before your eyes. Surprise at the size of it, your insides clenches achingly, wondering how it had fit inside you before. But realizing why his entrance burns your insides despite your wetness, his huge cock filling you would extremely stretch your walls to fit himself.

You have seen it so briefly before on your first night together, but you haven’t had the time to admire it as Namjoon took you so urgently.

Your mouth waters at the sight of a glistening pink head, your cold, delicate fingers coming in contact with his slick member to wrap themselves around his thickness.

The subtle touch of your fingers felt too good. If it’s possible, his brown eyes only grew darker, that they are almost black now. Your mind is in shambles as both of your hands gently pump their way up and down his length.

His hips stutter at your ministration. As Namjoon falls into a state of euphoria, his head is thrown back, palms glued on the wall behind you to prevent his strength from crumbling. Drawing your lips near, your tongue did an experimental lick at the glistening pink head. The harsh intake of breath you heard from him coax you further, swiping the underside of his length with your tongue before slowly taking him in your mouth. ”Fuck!” He growls so sexily at the feel of your warm mouth. You felt his cock twitched, hips bucking at your warm, inviting mouth. Then you suddenly felt your bun loosens, followed by the pull of your hair as his fingers thread into your soaked hair.

“That’s it, pretty slut.” He breathlessly praises. He draws back before filling your mouth full again. His sensitive tip touching your throat has you moaning rather erotically which only turns him on further.

He is huge, and despite willingly taking him down to your throat, the length of his cock couldn’t possibly fit all inside your mouth. Your eyes closing for a moment, suppressing the urge to choke.

“Such a good little slut for me, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Namjoon’s grip on your hair tightens, manipulating the pace to his desired speed. You didn’t care, because his pleasure matters to you more at this point.

When he glides his cock back inside, you hollow your cheeks just in time, tight enough to have him nearly gasping his next breath.

You let him fuck your mouth slowly, until he picks up a pace. Assaulting your mouth with the intrusion while mixture of your saliva and his arousal continues to leak out of your mouth.

The sounds of pleasure you hear from him only intensifies your own arousal, your stomach heating up each time your core achingly clenches.

The darkness in his eyes and the way curses recklessly stumble out of his beautiful mouth while you suck him raw takes your breath away. You’ve never seen him this vulnerably clouded in pleasure. And you’d willingly let him fuck you again this way if it means having to witness him this helpless while he chases the feel of your mouth. Your eyes never left his as you peer up from your knees. The more you listen to his pleasure, the harder you want to take him in.

When you felt it twitch again, you deliberately took him deeper until you’re nearly choking.

Namjoon has had his fair share of women— all of whom are experienced, knew their way to pleasure him. But the goddess beneath him—his sweet angel, the woman of his dreams and dirty fantasies unknowingly had him at his mercy.

The addicting warmth and suction of your mouth pulling him further into the depth of bliss. “No, angel—” He rasps in between rapid breaths, wanting to prolong the fire until he gets to fill his favorite addicting hole, so tight, he could already taste the feeling.

You whimper, “No…” You wanted it so much. The thought of him cumming undone inside your mouth is a dirty fantasy you suddenly wish to fulfill right now.

“We’ll save it up for when I’m inside your tight pussy.“ He breathes, pulling you up and bracing you against the wall. Your thighs wobble from your previous position.

His eager mouth captured yours, harshly sucking your bottom lip, teasing it as his teeth gently pierces through your bruised lip.

He could taste himself in you as his tongue thoroughly laps the inside of your mouth. Until he moves down to your jaw, his tongue tracing his tracks down to your neck onto your already purple skin while his fingers found the pink bud of your breast. It was what made you react so sexily, moaning helplessly, burying your fingers in his hair tightly as his teeth punctures the skin then laps the area soothingly.

Your body continues to heat up in his ministrations despite the cold atmosphere in the bathroom, certain that your arousal now visibly pools out of your core to your thighs.

Your fingers hastily unbutton his dress shirt, impatient to reveal his bare torso for your eyes to feast on. But just about you had undone the last button, he crouches, robbing you of the chance to admire his body. His mouth encloses on your hard pink bud, his tongue teasingly encircling on the crown of your breast as his other hand works simultaneously, squeezing your mound inside his palm.

The sensitivity of your breasts adding up to the sensation of his mouth and hand is too much, panting as you struggle to catch your breath. Until his head lowers farther down, tracing his way down with his open mouth kisses.

Namjoon swiftly pulled your thighs apart, hooking your thigh over his shoulder to see all of you.

The mere sight of your sex could already tell how turn on you are, but it wasn’t enough for him. His fingers part your folds, dipping his thumb to feel your arousal. “Ah, you’re dripping, baby. Is this for me, hmm?”

His head lowers more, mouth hovering your pubic bone, teasingly planting sloppy kisses there.

The rapid intakes of your breath did not go unnoticed by Namjoon. A devious grin spreads on his lips as his thumb starts assaulting your clit enough to have your legs trembling from bliss. The reaction he seeks from you were generously poured out of your mouth.

“Yes god. Joon please—” Your hips jerking, needing more friction than what he’s giving. He was quick to restrain your movements, pushing your hips flat against the cold wall. Your whines of frustration soon echoes inside the bathroom.

Namjoon draws his mouth nearer, his nose erotically nuzzling your front sex that you could already feel his warm breath, “You smell exquisitely alluring, angel.”

Your anticipation shortly turns into desperation, continuously sobbing his name. Your heavenly pleas were enough to give you what you want, Namjoon willingly rewarded his tongue on your clit, licking your nub so good your eyes clenched from the sudden spark of sensation.

“So sweet…” he mumbles appreciatively, before sucking the sensitive nub in his warm mouth. The act alone has you panting in pleasure.

“Ahhh! Joon—fuck!” Your fingers quickly found his hair, your grip tightening the harder he sucks and laps your clit. You were drowning in need, darkness fills your vision as they remained shut, focusing on the sensation brought by his mouth’s ministrations. You could feel yourself leaking, and made it easier for him to slide his fingers inside your aching core, rubbing and curling them until you're visibly writhing. Cries of pleasure continue to pour out of your mouth.

“Ah! Joon! Oh god!”

Your beautiful sounds alone could bring him to hilt, his cock painfully growing harder, merely listening to you as his mouth and fingers drive you oblivion.

The painful tug of your fingers on his scalp as they tighten their grasp on his hair signals your forthcoming orgasm.

“That’s it, cum for me, little slut.” He mumbles against your sex, the vibration of his mouth against your core sending you further in the brink, as the knot of pleasure building up in your stomach snaps. You cry out, his name the only thing you can articulate of, as you climax deliciously against his mouth. Hips grinding to ride out your orgasm.

Namjoon greedily lap every bit of your sweet juices, while his thumb strums your clit to prolong your orgasm. He didn’t stop, not even when he hears you whining from overstimulation. He only withdrew his mouth on your core when you finally met his gaze, coming back from your high.

Your fingers raking his wet locks out his face as it keeps the span of his forehead hidden, wanting to see all of his pretty face.

Namjoon stood, his knees skillfully bracing you flat from the wall. He yanks his soaking, white top off his body, discarding it there before doing the same thing to his slacks proceeded by his boxers, revealing his perfectly honeyed skin body. This is the first and only time you had seen him completely naked right before your eyes.

The two of you sharing an expansive closet lets you have a glimpse of his naked torso once in a while, sometimes him adorning a pair of boxers while he selects his working attire for the day. But those times were always short lived, you shying away from staring for too long than casual glances.

From the intimate instances you had with him, you never had the opportunity to appreciate his nudity. Your eyes glint with pure admiration, seeing all of him now in front of you. Your tongue dazedly darted out to wet your lips, feasting purely on his body.

Namjoon yet again found your lips, his tongue unsolicitedly invading your mouth, fighting for the dominance which you willingly gave up. He took your responsiveness as an opportunity to pull your body in his embrace, your legs following on their accord as they automatically weave themselves around his hips over his back, your hands finding purchase on his nape. His very arousal pressing on your stomach has you moaning against his greedy mouth.

Namjoon gracefully carried you all the way out towards the bedroom, completely dazed in his kisses.

He didn’t let go of your lips all the way out, not until he dumps your wet body on the mattress. Namjoon kneels on the foot of the bed, hands grasping on your hips to flip you over.

“On your knees, sweetheart.” He commands.

A sound of what he initially recognizes as a moan tears out of you. He plants a small kiss to your hip, before he hears you object, “No!”

“What—“

“I want to see you,” You whimper, pulling his face closer, fishing for a kiss.

A smirk slowly made its way on his face, eyes darkening at the sight of you helpless in his mercy.

“You want to see me while I fuck you, is that it?” He trails, pulling your thighs apart, crawling his way between your thighs.

His nose nuzzles yours teasingly, hovering over your mouth.

Heaving a sigh in contentment, you nod. “I miss you...”

“Do you, now? Or... you only want to be fucked hard?” He murmurs, mouth ajar as it tormentingly touches your lips.

Your forehead creases in a frown, “That’s not true.”

“I’ve never seen you this needy before, Y/N. Tell me, what do you want me to do?” His fingers brushing wet locks away from your beautiful face.

“Please, fuck me...”

He nods, gently bucking his hips to slide his length on your slit. “Is this enough for you, sweetheart?” You whine helplessly.

“Joon, please… just fuck me!” Plea pours out of your mouth in complete devastation. His warmth doing nothing but fuel the ache in your core as it clenches in wanton need of friction.

You beg more and more, the longer he teases you. Namjoon lowers his head further in the crook of your neck, his teeth and tongue alternately grazing and soothing the sensitive skin. The sensation feel achingly erotic, until he not so gently bit your skin, enough to leave a mark. The mere distraction made you almost forget his tip on your entrance, until he thrusts so hard your eyes closed from the undesired pain, stretching you far too much.

“Joon—“ Your moan stifles, crying out at the painful intrusion. Tears brim in your eyes as his length stretches you fully, your slick wetness welcomes him in a swift but burning entrance. He captured your lips, somehow distracting you from the unavoidable ache of your union.

You almost didn’t want him to move from the burning ache of your walls around him. He rocks ever so gently, eliciting a sound of pleasure from you. The burning ache didn’t subside, but as he prolonged the small pace he started, you became used to the pain, chasing the tiny pleasure that comes with each thrust he gives.

The sounds you continuously emit signals him to keep going, until he picks up a pace. Soon after, sparks of euphoric bliss came shooting within your core, numbing the pain.

Your lustful gasps and his grunts were in unison as you both get used to the delicious friction of your intimate union.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You deliriously moan when he suddenly pushes your thigh up on his shoulder, allowing his cock to plunge farther into your warm, tight depths until you’re writhing, your sounds were music to his ears further pulling him deeper in euphoria.

The feeling of your tight walls gripping around his cock is such a sweet, addicting sensation. The deeper he hammers into your core, the closer he gets to chase down the delicious spark of his pleasure. The new angle allowed him to discover the places untouched, thus finding your sweet spot, that has you rolling your eyes in the back of your end. Toes curling as sparks violently shoot through your core, intensifying the knot that holds your desire.

“I’m— oh yes, right there!” you gasp, “Fuck!” Your fingers tightly thread on his hair, mouth greedily seeking his attention.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart. You feel so good around me.” Namjoon growls in between sloppy kisses against your mouth. 

“So good… Joon, please... don't stop!” You sob, getting lost at your pleasure as you desperately chase the end.

Namjoon rolled his hips incredibly faster, ramming through you endlessly making you shudder from the intense sensation.

You could feel it, so close.

The violent pushes and pulls of his hips didn’t stop, rapid plunges in and out of your depths until the pleasure came rushing from the pit of your stomach.

“Joon!” You moan, the knot finally twisting, waves of euphoria shattering through your trembling body.

Namjoon’s hips stutter, savoring the feel of your clenching walls around, nearing his high. “Angel—fuck!” A long, carnal sound vibrates on his chest, as he picks up his speed while your insides tremor at the intensity of your orgasm, ferociously thrusting his cock so fast as he chases his own climax, and shooting his liquid generously inside you. His mouth attacks your breast to counter his sounds of pleasure. 

Your whimpers echo in the room, the post-orgasmic bliss mixes with the stinging sensation brought about by the love bites he generously marked on your skin slowly pulls you back from oblivion, while you listen to your pants and his rapid breathing.

When he finally comes back to his senses, his tired eyes briefly surveys your length. Your body remains still as your eyes are closed shut, chest rapidly rising and falling. Assuming you dozed off, he carefully untangles his limbs off of you to clean you up before tucking you in.

As he climbs off the mattress, your hand manages to grip his arm in time. “No, don’t go.” He hears you breathlessly whimper.

You look spent— satiated even. He could clearly see your eyes as they struggle to open still. He retreats back on the mattress, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He reassures you in a soothing tone. A sigh went past your lips in relief. You gave him a subtle nod, trusting his words.

“I miss you,” You croak, you were just so tired, and sleepy. But you can’t seem to move on from missing him too much for the past few days.

He could see it in your eyes, the vulnerable side of you in the aftermath of the lovemaking.

“I know, baby.” He whispers close to your ear as he strokes your hair in a comforting manner.

His touch, so gentle in contrast to how he rammed you to the hilt minutes ago. It was as if he was cooing you to sleep. Few moments later, your consciousness slowly shrinks, finally succumbing to darkness.

The next moment your eyes open, the first thing they search around is him. His side of the bed is empty. And the moment you dared to move, you instantly felt the ache in your muscles and the numb feeling in between your thighs. Then your eyes noticed a shirt, which you have on. Just by the size of it, you knew it was Namjoon’s but you don't ever remember putting it on before you fell asleep.

How long have you been sleeping?

It was dark in the room, the dim lights supporting just enough so you could see your way through the room.

“Joon?” You call out, looking around the room. There’s no sign of him— until your ear caught a distinct clinking of glass, your gaze instantly landed on the very subject you were seeking for.

At the sound of you calling his name, his head snaps, instantly meeting your gaze as you struggle your way towards the corner of massive room.

He wore a pair of plaid pj pants and a plain white shirt similar to the material that covers your body now. His messy hair tells you that he had pushed back his locks more than once. His isn’t this long before, and you wonder how many regular haircuts he had abandoned to have it this long. With how endearing he looks with his hair, you made a mental note to have your way to stop him from cutting it any time soon.

When you shifted your gaze away as you near the stone coffee table, you saw there on top, a glass container of expensive alcohol, a liquor glass and an ashtray which made you turn your eyes back at him. You didn’t notice the stick in between his fingers right away.

“Angel,” he greets in a curious tone, surprised to see you awake.

“You’re not asleep.” You say, your stare following his fingers as he inhales a long draw through the stick before crushing its end against the ashtray. Smoke coming out of his mouth and nose as he exhales.

His hand caught yours, coaxing you to sit on his lap. His fingers brushing away your hair out of your face. “You okay?” His surprisingly gentle tone laces in concern.

You only nodded in reply, willingly obliging onto his embrace. Your thighs curling on his lap as his arms instantly pull you on his chest, preventing you from falling off.

The lingering smell of cigarette and alcohol from his breath mixed with his natural scent wafted through your nostrils as you find yourself burying your face on the crook of his neck. You didn’t know it could smell this intoxicating on him. As if your core is not literally burning enough from the intimacy earlier, you could feel yourself slowly leaking, core clenching painfully at the thought of his thick length inside you.

His hand rests on your back, the other on your thigh, the warmth in his body enveloping you from the cold.

You tilt your head to the side, “I didn’t know you smoke.” You say in dazed of your growing desire.

“Hmm, does it bother you?”

You didn’t answer. But let yourself drink in his exquisite smell.

You felt his palm soothingly rub your back, “You should rest, I’ve worn you out.” You cheeks heating up on his mere words.

Your lips pressing tiny kisses there, on the skin of his neck.

He stills, recognizing the intention of your sweet gestures. “Sweetheart—“

“Please, make love to me Joon.”

He sighs, “I was not gentle with you, sweetheart, it’s too soon for you.”

His shirt crumples beneath your fingers, “I want you.”

The way you beg him to take you made him forget how he was striving to control himself to fuck you again and again, until his needs are temporarily sated.

He was not gentle and the aftermath of the intimacy surely left traces of pain from how tight your core is. It was the reason why he’s now several glasses in from liquor, distracting himself because it’s too soon to satisfy the urge have his addicting vice.

With your plea, his restraint vanishes so quickly, giving you what you had begged for.

He took you there on the couch.

You were clinging onto him, urging for him to fuck you harder. Your sweet moans, your stinging bite marks on his shoulders, and your warm, tight core choking his cock brought him to the hilt. Cumming in the depth of your insides raw and hard. The thought of you bearing his child briefly feeds his mind as his liquid mixed with your juices gushes out of your core.

The alcohol, being the source of his early distraction, fail to restraint him to fuck you, again. For the third time of the night, you willingly gave yourself in to his carnal needs. Despite the evident ache in your muscles all throughout your body, his touch, his kisses and the pleasure he made you feel were enough to coax you.

The next morning, you unquestionably feel horrible. You could feel your head throb, and the slight attempt of moving made you whimper in pain. The burning sensation in your core is difficult not to miss as much as the ache in your body.

Namjoon is nowhere in sight and as much as you want to come search for him, the blinding light seeping from the floor to ceiling glass wall made it such a heavy task to do so.

What time is it?

You inwardly groan at the thought of missing your classes. You have done it a lot of times before that you literally couldn’t afford to miss some more.

Feeling the exhaustion from your body, you dozed off some more and only stirred awake when you felt something on your face.

With your eyes closed, you know it was no other than your husband. His hand moves from your face to your hair, gently stroking and raking your locks away from your face.

When the afternoon break came approaching, he paid a short visit to the room to check you in. He didn’t come to his office today, shifting his appointments through digital meetings in his study.

He’s been watching you for a few minutes now. Worry creeps into him, the intimate activities must have drained your energy empty. He mentally reminds himself to be gentle to you next time.

“Hey,” Namjoon suddenly hears you greet. His gaze lifted toward your eyes.

A smile slowly spreads on his lips.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”

He laughs when you groan, shutting your eyes closed in distraught as you realized it is indeed late.

Frowning, “I missed my classes.”

“You did. Your friend called this morning, I answered the call and told her you’re unwell.”

“Jihyo?“

“Yes. Perhaps, you’ve rested enough?” You nodded.

Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the only time you missed most of your classes just because you were too tired to get up in the morning.

He didn’t falter the following days. Taking you one way or another. You even thought he would finally be sated with his needs after several days. You’re wrong. Because the more you allow him to touch you, the more he wants to take you shamelessly just about anywhere he can make his advances. “Joon, we’re in the kitchen.” You manage to say as his hand slides inside your sweatpants one Sunday evening. You‘re heating up a pasta that was abandoned several hours ago, starving from fulfilling your other needs. Miyoung must have kept the food in the fridge when she realized the two of you have no intention to eat the supposed lunch. Namjoon tags along, watching you prep the food in the microwave until he decides touching you seems like a better idea. His fingers almost there, where they were earlier on the bed, and if you weren't too hungry and spent, you would probably let him do you here. Your hand grips his arm tight, restraining whatever intention he has. “No one is here.” He insists, lips assaulting the skin on your exposed shoulder. The bulge of his crotch pressing on your back, feeling the evidence of his growing arousal.

A mere slave to his touch, you appeal, “Joon, can we eat first? I’m hungry,” when you feel his other hand sneaks under your shirt. His movements gradually took a pause, sighing in defeat. He kisses your temple before letting you eat in peace.

“Listen, can I talk about something?” Mingyu gave you a brief glance, although he seems to have his focus fixed in front as he drives you back home. “Of course, Mrs. Kim.” He says politely. Your face scrunches up. “I told you to call me Y/N.” That was on his first day, you instructed him to address you by your name when Hanbin introduced you to Mingyu as ‘Mrs. Kim’. Mingyu nods without returning your gaze, “I could, but I’m not sure the boss would be thrilled to hear I’m on a first name basis with his wife.” He could be right. But you choose not to voice it out. Shrugging, “I’m sure he would not mind.” “You don’t want the boss to get mad.” He states as a matter of fact, then adds, “What do you want to talk about, anyways?” You shifted in your seat, slightly angling your body towards him. “So, do you guys know what time Namjoon usually comes home?” He didn’t speak right away, eyes narrow hearing your question.

“Hanbin does not tell me that sort of information, unless it’s necessary. My job is to guard you, anyway. Why do you ask?” There was something in his demeanor that changed, or was it your mind playing tricks on you? “I... Uhm...” You fumble through the right words that could explain your plan, but all you had come up with is a simple reassurance of his participation. “Can I trust you though? You know... not to tell him?” He clears his throat and shuffles on his right earpiece. Your eyes caught it. Is someone speaking on him through it? “I’m not sure, we don’t keep a secret to the boss.” He responds, shortly. Part of his job requires him to disclose your activities and anything related to your safety. Entertaining your antics might put him in serious trouble. Your eyebrows rose. “Ever?” You ask, testing the water. His cooperation would really help you out.

His forehead creases, sizing up your words whether it’s a trap or just some white lies far from a threat to his job. “Are you questioning my loyalty, Mrs. Kim?” The thing is, as the conversation prolongs, it would be difficult for him to avoid trouble, he thought as he fails to understand your purpose.

“No. Just... it’s a different kind of secret.” Your voice falters. If you want to keep a secret, why should you drag him with it? “A secret is a secret. It would cost me my job, you know.”

Your eyes roll as if you don’t know that. He’s not even letting you talk before deciding on his own. You wouldn’t even bother telling him if you don’t need his support to pull off your plan, how will you buy stuff without him tipping it all off to Namjoon’s right hand man. Speaking of which, perhaps, you shall consider tagging Hanbin along in your plan. Heaving an exaggerated, you convince him further, “It's not something bad, will you hear me out? You won’t be in trouble if you keep it a secret. Just promise me you won’t tell him?”

He didn’t look at you, nor made an effort to acknowledge it. “Hear me out first?” You try again when he seems doubtful. His focus was clearly on the road as he shows clear disinterest to listen to you.

“Fine then...” You surrender, crossing your arms.

Silence filled the air inside the car all throughout the journey home, with you frequently shooting childish glares in his direction the entire time. When Mingyu expertly maneuvers the car on the garage, you quickly climb off the car fully intending to ignore him just so you could stir guilt in him because you couldn’t directly admit you need his help.

Unexpectedly, Mingyu catches up with you and suddenly offers, “We can talk tomorrow. On your break.” Then he sprinted toward the flight of stairs instead of usually taking the lift  before you could even process his words. 

He changed his mind that fast?

Out of curiosity, you did try to talk to him again during that night but you couldn’t get a hold of him. And going to the basement where the team camps in could raise suspicion so you waited until tomorrow.

The following day, you notice an unfamiliar guy adorning a similar all black uniform. It does not bother you though since your husband owns a whole agency. However, Mingyu didn’t show up and was replaced by a new one. Although questions start stirring up in your mind, you never really voiced out your concerns to anyone.

When you got home that night, you attempted to wring out an answer from Namjoon. You didn’t need to find him because the moment you returned from uni, he was at the foyer with Hanbin, backs facing your direction. By the mere looks of it, he was sort of giving commands to his right hand man, something you couldn’t properly hear what it is about.

“Hi.” You finally speak, catching both of their attention. Namjoon made a gesture in his hand, dismissing Hanbin while you approached his tall figure.

As Hanbin passes by you, he sends a polite nod to your direction as a greeting, before disappearing from one of the doorways.

With a few steps forward, Namjoon met you half-way, eyeing you up and down. “Sweetheart,” He murmurs while swiftly reaching for your hand, to pull you in for a kiss.

It wasn’t even just a peck. His lips have instantly dominated yours, making sure he sucked and licked your lips enough to have you catching your breath when he drew back. Your cheeks instantly flame at the sudden ministration. You couldn’t even keep an eye contact with him, too embarrassed with how quickly your body reacted to his lips. Unlike you, Namjoon still wear a passive expression, not even a single affected by the kiss. Of course, he did more than just a kiss to you before. Keeping a safe distance from him, you took a step back. “You replaced Mingyu?” You begin inquiring. Out of all the things you can ask, it has to be the very reason for his anger. He didn’t seem one bit pleased to hear you mention your bodyguard’s name instead of asking how his day had gone like your usual opening question during dinner. “I did, should it matter?” He answers with another question. Nervous by the intensity of his stare, you shrug, “I was just wondering why he’s not around.”

It’s true. If Mingyu didn’t promise the talk today, you wouldn’t be this curious. “He’s back in the headquarters.” Namjoon briefly provides.

But the information was too short to rest your mind in peace. Why did he suddenly removed him as your guard? “Oh, okay.“ Something tells you, it’s not all of that. Mingyu’s absence, for all you care, could be anything work-related or personal as long as the boss is concerned. You‘re already aware that Namjoon does not take jealousy too lightly, and somehow you’ve presumed Mingyu will inevitably be victimized under Namjoon’s territorial behavior. The problem is, you couldn’t seem to think of any instance that would make your husband jealous. Unless... Namjoon knows something else you’re not aware of.  “Will he come back here?” You ask further, nervously fidgeting your bracelet while surveying his expression. His eyebrows knitted for whatever reason, significant or not. “No.”  “Why not?” Namjoon cocks his head to the side, his now pitch black eyes strangely spoke with raw emotions you couldn’t tell what exactly is. “Tell me one good reason why he should be here...” He suggests with a nonchalant tone. Unknown to you, his patience is shrinking as he lowers his head to eye you with his tense stare. You didn’t understand what it is for, but you couldn’t help your body as it faintly shudder under his stare. “I’m just curious—”

“How many secrets of yours have you told the boy, Y/N?” Your heart momentarily stops at the mention of your name. Because he rarely calls you by name.

Is he referring to the conversation you had with him yesterday? “W-What... do you mean?” The cold temperature couldn’t even cease the rising tension between you two. “You perfectly understand what I mean.” He answers right away, locking his gaze to you. Making sure you could see the way his eyes flicker with fire. Mingyu told him?

You fumble with words, confused at Namjoon’s anger towards you. “How...w-what...what did he tell you?” “What do you think?” Namjoon returns the question back. And it confuses you more now for how your inquiry has turned into a confrontation, especially that the unnecessary anger is directed at you. You should have not beat around the bush and just directly told him you wanted to surprise Namjoon.

Now, Namjoon thinks you’re actually keeping something serious from him. Did Mingyu really snitch on you? You quietly ponder over, as you recall what happened inside the car. Mingyu was barely participating in the conversation, and the way he responded to you... it was formal, and uncooperative like the usual. The fact that Namjoon knows about it is already a giveaway that Mingyu actually tell-taled. Unless... the earpiece— “If he told you about it, then you would know he didn’t even let me talk, unless he told you something else...“ You trailed. The longer you think of it, the more convinced you are that Namjoon knows something more, just from the look he bears... “We can talk tomorrow. On your break.” Mingyu’s words echo in your mind, once again. And as your brain slowly processes the information, it gradually makes sense to you…

The way he was talking to you in the car made you believe he didn’t want to participate in whatever ploy you have, but he quickly changed his mind once both of you were out of the car. It was not his two-way earpiece. But the car-- Namjoon saw the horror slowly creeping into your face. “You heard, didn’t you...” You breathed. Namjoon heard it clearly, fully comprehending the words you just uttered.

“Something must be in that car, isn’t it?” You press, further.

He is well-aware that you’re not stupid, and you’ll eventually find it out. He just didn’t imagine it to be revealed this way. Nonetheless, his lips only pursed as he remains calm and collected, no trace of remorse or guilt visible on his face. 

His expression tells you he was not bothered by the fact that you found out. You didn’t know how the fire in your eyes is effortlessly piercing his heart. The kind he does not want to see in your eyes. You scoff, “What else—Is my phone bugged?” You suddenly prod, tilting your head up so you could fully observe him through your lashes. His face, however, maintains a straight face. You waited for his answer, silently wishing he would debunk your assumption.  The lack of response only made you confirm it. Fury quickly courses within you, “Why?” Your hands rub your face in utter disbelief. “You have me tailed everywhere by your men, is that not enough?” You spat, resentment slowly clouding your mind, 

”You have my freedom under your mercy, now my privacy? What else do you want from me?”

“It’s for your safety—”

You laugh humorlessly, harshly brushing the stubborn tears on your cheeks. “Tell me, is everything in your apartment bugged? The bedroom? The closet? The bathroom—” “Hush sweetheart, your body is mine and only for my eyes to see.” He was quick to come to your side, catching your arms. You didn’t like the proximity. It makes you weak.

“I’m not your fucking toy! You can’t do this to me!” “Calm down, baby. I love my woman submissive.” He says in a soothing tone. His words as softly as they were spoken hurt you deeply, fueling your ire even more.

You didn’t know how you found the strength to slap him. Your hand trembles, stinging from pain after it meets his skin.

“Find another woman, then!” His face barely turned from the impact, proceeding to address your anger.

“Calm down.” He attempts to console, but it only did the opposite to your ego. You trash your arms out, hating the way he still has the upperhand despite the table being turned upside down. Your strength could never compare to his as you struggle to push him. “You are my woman. Need I remind you that?” Harshly shaking your head, “No! Don’t touch me!” His grip loosens on your arms, and you took it as your chance to sprint off towards the stairs, not wanting to repeat what happened in his office before.

You locked yourself in the bathroom, somehow trusting that this is the only place kept hidden from any prying eyes. Tears uncontrollably flow through your cheeks, face buried on your hands as you helplessly listen at the loud thumping of your heart. If you didn’t pull back, chances are he would have his way to take your weakness in his advantage. The strong surge of emotions you feel cannot even compare to his physical strength.

You’re confused, hurt and disgusted all at once. You didn’t expect how messed up this whole marriage thing could get, realizing you actually know so little of him, of what he does in a living. To think that you have learned to trust him because of the stupid affection you have been nurturing for months, makes your insides twist in fury. Perhaps, it was a spur of the moment thought that you regarded as a wise decision, as anger overpowers your senses. You didn’t understand how it transpired, accordingly. When you quickly packed up a few things put the bag underneath the bed while waiting for the night to progress, Namjoon didn’t come to the bedroom. You thought it helped you leave smoothly.

Little did you know, Namjoon was watching the scene unfold through the numerous cameras simultaneously viewing before his eyes on the screen of his laptop. It was taking all of his willpower to stop you and lock you in his bedroom until your anger subsides, but something tells him it would not do good to cool down your anger.

Funny how the situation unexpectedly turns upside down as he recalls being gutted with anger. Not liking how you so easily open up to others than him. He couldn’t deny the ugly feeling traversing within him when he listened to your interaction with the boy.

As the night rolls around, the burning sensation of the alcohol in his throat becomes addicting, taking more until the ache in his chest numbs.

Jackson’s apartment was the only place you could reach at this hour. Considering Jihyo is staying in the college dorm, you wouldn’t be able to get inside the building for it was already past two in the morning. His place was not even considered a hideout. But at that point, you don't even care if Namjoon comes along breaking down Jackson’s doorway to force you back at home. You only needed a safe place away to think at the moment because you couldn’t bare to see him, yet. And you’re well aware of the effect he has on you. He can quickly cloud your judgement over his will through his mere touch. That’s how bad you’ve fallen for him.

Few days of distancing should enough for you to sort your feelings, if he doesn’t come collecting you himself.

“You okay?” Jackson croaks, seeing you trembling a little. Minutes prior, he was ready to beat the shit out of the person who was smashing his doorbell like a madman. Never would he think it was you of all people.

“He didn’t... hurt you, did he?” He hesitatingly asks, seeing the traces of tears staining your cheeks. Shaking your head, “No. We just had a fight.” “He doesn’t know, right? That you’re here?” You gave Jackson a knowing look, “He probably does by now.” Jackson offered his bed on the first night, but you turned his offer down. You took the couch instead, somehow preparing yourself for the imminent devastation of the storm. Fortunately for you, no one tried to break their way into Jackson’s apartment that night, relieved that everything is still in place or it’ll surely make you guilty for dragging your friends to your problems with Namjoon.

That following morning, you transferred into Jihyo’s dorm, deciding it would be best for Jackson’s safety. Six days insufferably passed. However, it felt longer than that. Staying away had not concluded the fight you had with Namjoon. There was also no sign of Namjoon or his men lurking around the college or the dorm in the past few days. And it bothered you more than it should have given you peace. The thought alone made you realized, you were more affected by your action as you were deeply tormented by the thoughts of him and the possibility that he doesn’t want you, anymore.

Your anger towards him couldn’t tame your feelings for him. Maybe you have underestimated it as a mere attraction—infatuation, even.

That night, Namjoon showed up in the dorm’s doorsteps, to which you had already expected since the first night. But you’re still left surprised, nonetheless.

Your heart painfully tugs, as your chest rises and falls with rapid breaths. “What are you doing here?” Indeed, it was unfair. While you wallow in despair for days, he seems not one bit affected by the situation.

“You will go home,” He calmly orders, his eyes briefly scanning you over.

As ever, he didn’t fail to make your heart thump crazily from the mere sight of him. While you look worse—missing a lot of sleep from trying to balance your studies and your issues with him, he looks stunningly gorgeous, powerful, and unfitting to be in a place like this. “No, I‘m staying.” You insist. “I’m not asking for you permission.” He corrects you in a formal tone, before walking past your figure. “Namjoon—wait! Where are you going?” You panicked, tailing behind him as he immediately finds Jihyo’s room where he scans around the small space. This is barely a room to stay in, he silently thought. “Pack your clothes. I’ll give you five minutes before we go. Unless, you want to leave without them—” You didn’t let him finish, cutting him of mid-sentence. “No, I'm not coming with you.” You compel, determined to follow what you had planned in your mind.

The look on his face is all too familiar, the one that tells you he won’t take no for an answer. “Do not test my patience, sweetheart.”

“Namjoon, stop.” You begin, visibly in distress by the sudden shift of the situation. You are aware he always has the upperhand.

“I want to stay here. Can’t you at least give me that after what you’ve done?” You implore. As much as you miss him, you couldn’t afford to see him yet, or it could break you. “I already gave you space, that’s enough for you.” Shaking your head, “I didn’t ask you to. I left.” You say. His height does not intimidate you anymore, but the way he holds himself now, he seems different. As if he was deliberately trying to make you succumb to him.

“Sweetheart, I had all the means to stop your ploy if I wanted to. I didn’t, because I figured you would need it.” Declares Namjoon, drawing himself closer to where you stood.

You took a step back. “What if I don't want to?” You challenge.

He lowers his head, allowing you to have a glimpse of his dark eyes, silently warning you. “You don't have a choice, sweetheart.”

You let him win, again. Because you were left with no option. You couldn’t think of anything else that you could do to oppose him without compromising anyone, especially your friends. Nothing you could do but to give in for now.

Namjoon already disappeared from somewhere when you entered the living room, leaving you all alone until you hear footsteps nearing towards your direction.

You turn to see who it was.

“What are you doing here?” You warily ask, utterly surprised to see him. How many more surprises do you need yo deal with today? By how ugly the events have turned out, you won’t expect to see him again, or anywhere near the penthouse. He gave you a nod as a form of greeting, before answering, “Working. What else do you think I’m here for?” “For Namjoon?” “Of course, he’s my boss. But he gave me a specific instruction to guard the queen.”

You only gave him a look, although with the obvious height difference, you had to tilt your head up to do so.

Your visible annoyance quickly amuses him. After what happened, he really has the nerve to smirk right in front of you?

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kim, but you look horrible today. You alright?” He shamelessly nags to which earns him scowl from you. “That’s nice of you to say.” You retort, “I’ve been missing a lot of sleep, thank you very much.” He laughs as if nothing really happened.

It’s not his fault, anyway. You don’t blame him for what happened. However, the urge to ask him why he’s back here almost slips past your lips. Only that you remember someone could potentially be eavesdropping to which you didn’t need unnecessary suspicions from Namjoon, anymore.

The conversation was short lived when Miyoung called you in, gesturing for you to come with her in the kitchen, not expecting to see Namjoon sitting in one of the stools in the island counter where food is sumptuously served.

Your footsteps stagger, half-considering to leave the kitchen. However, Namjoon patiently waits for your next move, as if silently ordering you to take a seat.

Heaving a sigh, you did just that, not wanting to stir an argument with him.

Once you sat down across from his seat, he starts placing various food from the empty plate in front of you, until it is almost full that you’re not sure if you can eat all of it.

“Stop... I can’t finish all of that.”

Namjoon pauses, peering at you in disbelief. “You can, it’s your favorite.”

You didn’t like the way he was acting up like he didn’t cause the problem in the first place. You hated how the impact of his action didn’t seem to affect him a single bit.

“I’m still angry,” You couldn’t help but to say.

His serious stare tells you he has no time for a confrontation, but so are you.

“I know, you can be angry for as long as you want. But please, angel, eat the food so I could have the peace. You haven’t been using your cards for your meals, did you intentionally do that to make me worry?”

You scoffed, his indifference to your issue only frustrates you even more. “Why would you think I’ll use your money while I’m gone?”

“You don’t have the means to live independently.”

“That’s not the point here, Joon.”

“It is, when you were not looking out for yourself. You haven’t been coping well… you look a few pounds lighter.” He said in a firm persistence to prove your inability to live well without using his resources.

So what if you were miserable? You couldn’t really force yourself to eat if you didn’t have the appetite to consume food. Either it was because of your distress over the fight or food simply didn’t appeal to you.

Speaking of, you barely touched the food in front of you. You’re not even hungry anyway.

“Shut up—“

Namjoon was quick to cut you off, dismayed by the lack of light in your eyes, you almost look like you’re about to pass out. “Why is it so easy for you to disregard yourself for your pride? If you have been taking care of yourself well I would have given you longer time to mourn in that little cubicle room you call a place.” Namjoon says in a clearly disappointing tone.

The fact that you lost a few pounds in a matter of days bothered him. It took so much of him to let you wallow in despair, he knew that disrespecting your privacy is not right and he understands how it left you scarred with the horrid feeling of betrayal. The same reason why he let you on peacefully for days, until he couldn’t handle it no more.

The short glimpse of you while he had you followed only did more damage to his heart than the peace he was aiming for. A single look from you and he already knew the fight took its toll on you deeper than what he had expected. Your physical state was the last straw to make up his mind to take you back, unwilling or not.

“My pride? You think it’s because of my pride? You think I’m mad because you outsmarted me with your stalking shenanigans?” You echo his words, finally losing the will to touch the food.

“What else is there to be angry about, I told you, it’s for your safety.” He counters back. His mind was spiraling wildly, uncertain how to handle this situation in a way it wouldn’t upset you more.

Namjoon was used to having the control in every situation, a single look from him and no other human being would dare speak further. He used to not care whether he could tear anyone apart with his mere words or sharp glares. He tried it with you and the impact only came shooting back at him, there in the depths of his heart, which no one had been able to inflict him with such raw powerful emotions, enough to make him bend helplessly on his knees.

“That’s the problem! You didn’t even tell me! I was kept in the dark all this time! And now what? You suddenly care about me when you didn’t even consider what I would feel when you gave everyone else something to snoop in about right under my nose?” You accuse, finding the strength to hit him with your words. A moment ago, you felt too empty to even bother a conversation with him. As the remnants of disgusting feeling stirs within you, you now want nothing but to lash out every bit of your anger towards him.

However, Namjoon didn’t want the confrontation this soon when he just had you back home. Though he would not avoid it, he believes now is not the time to talk it over.

“We can talk after you eat, sweetheart—“

“No, we will talk now!”

His gaze pierces straight through your eyes. Although his eyes almost reflected defeat, the aura he carries is so powerful. No one would ever dare scream or say no at him, unless, they don’t value much of their life.

You really are something. Someone who can never compare to him, someone whom he can easily crush in a snap of his fingers— but you’re not just some woman out there. You are his woman, the only one who has bewitched him—not only claiming his heart but also owning his dark soul. If you only knew the effect you have on him...

Silence fills the cold air, shortly. As you look away, not liking the effect he has on you, he quietly seeks for your eyes. He could always see through you—the emotions your eyes transparently reflect. He failed to see any of it when you turned your head away.

He sighs, before breaking the cold silence. “No one can access your phone, you don’t have to worry about it. It is for when… something happens, I could track your location and your digital activities.” Namjoon briefly explains.

There are things that should be left unsaid for your sake. His company has long strayed away from the black market since his father died. But the industry he belongs to will always bear ugly truths in order to sustain the reputation of his company. What he did, to put it into the simplest terms he could articulate of, protection does not only mean hiring people to be your human shields. In this digital age where perpetrators can utilize technology to harm their target, something has to be sacrificed to protect an individual alongside. In your case, it was your freedom, privacy and much more you have yet to realize. He didn’t want you to run away every time you learn something about him or the kind of business he has.

He could not tell you anything else.

“Liar! You’re only saying that to validate your action.” You say in an accusing tone. You got up from your chair, increasing the distance from him as the ambience gets suffocating.

“I’m not justifying what I did whether it’s wrong or not. I would do it again if it means to protect you. When have I not shown you I didn’t care?”

He didn’t mean no harm to disrespect your privacy, but that’s just a part of many things you would have to deal with when you’re married to him. Danger has come along with his name long before he was born.

As he steps closer, you quickly step away. Your head lowering, avoiding his eyes. “W-What are you… saying, you shouldn’t have kept it from me, in the first place. You don’t have to pretend you care. You’re only protecting me because I’m your responsibility.”

His forehead creases, “You are my wife. That makes you my responsibility, isn’t that the same thing for caring, sweetheart?” His hands extend forward to coax you closer.

You shook your head, “No.”

You couldn’t deny that he’s been attending to your needs, being more than just a guardian, crossing the line beyond the role of a mere provider. He became someone you have come accustomed as a husband despite the lack of emotional commitment from him, a friend under the guise of a husband. Even if you wanted more from him, who are you to demand such thing? The mere thought of your unrequited feelings towards him painfully tugs your heart.

Namjoon caught the raw emotions swimming from eyes. To what are those for?

“Have I not shown you enough? With my actions, with my kisses... when we make love—“

“Shut up, you d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about.” You stammer, turning your back at him as you feel your eyes welled up. 

“Then tell me how you feel, I can only take so much when it comes to you. I’ve never felt so helpless when I see you suffer, when you cry. Baby, I was so lost when you left. Tell me what I should do.”

“Stop… you’re confusing me with your words.” You croak, as you struggle to process his words.

The sound of his steps nearing made you still. Your eyes clenched shut, and as the tears stain your cheeks, you quickly wipe them away. Namjoon is so close, you literally could feel the heat of his body. 

“I’m not good at expressing my feelings. But I thought I made my intentions very clear. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you baby, please let me hold you.” Namjoon drew himself nearer, until your bodies are touching. When you made no effort to distance yourself farther, he cautiously encircled his arms around your waist.

You remain still as he pulls you even further in his embrace, nuzzling your hair from behind. You hate yourself for giving in too soon, the moment he has you locked in his arms, your anger quickly melts away. The warmth from his body felt too comforting as it slowly envelops your body, reminding you one again how much it tore you apart when you left. The ache in your chest, somehow, subsiding. You didn’t want him to let you go from his hold.

His nose traces an invisible path on the side of your head, loving the alluring scent of your hair. Softly murmuring just above your ear, “I have loved you since the day I saw you taking orders in that coffee shop. While you made me this crazy for you like no one else has ever done, you’re willing to leave everything. It was that easy for you to walk away and leave me, just like when you left your home for your freedom—“

The hard thumping of your heart is so loud as you cut him. He could probably hear it from the close proximity of your bodies.

“No, that’s not true! I didn’t leave you,” you pause, shaking your head violently to give emphasis on your point. Your heart aches, as your chest felt suddenly constricted hearing his confession. The information felt foreign in your ears, as if you were hallucinating. Is it true? Did he really know you way before you met him?

“I needed some time to think for myself. But I wouldn’t leave. I could never… I’ll always come back. I would come back to you.” Tears instantaneously flow in your cheeks. 

Namjoon spoke no more, as he squeezed your body in his arms, burying his face on the crook of your neck. Savoring this moment.

You in his arms.

You barely had a glimpse of what kind of his life he has, and have no knowledge of half the ugly things he had done. The deeper he falls for you, the more he willingly succumbing himself to your mercy, as if surrendering a dagger for you to destroy him through his weakness.

He silently wishes from the gods above that you would never walk away from his life again, when pieces of him slowly unravels to you through the course of time.

“Namjoon,” you whisper, seeking the attention you unknowingly have.

“Don’t leave me again, Y/N. I can take your anger, scream at me, hurt me— anything. I can take so much from you, as long as you’re right in my sight, the way I can protect you. I’ll give you as much as time alone.”

“Joon,”

“Promise me—”

“Namjoon!” You plead loudly, tugging his arm to gain the attention you want.

He takes a deep breath, confused at the tone of your voice. “Hmm?”

“I love you, too.” You murmur so suddenly.

He stills, hearing the words he had heard you say in his dreams. This time, he was awake with you in his embrace and he was uncertain if he actually heard the words right.

“Angel—”

“I love you so much.” You repeated, with a longing voice, this time you turned to face him. The look in his face tells you all of it. Shock was written all over his face, as if your confession was something he was not expecting in his wildest dream. Between the two of you, his confession of love for you is the most unpredictable thing you heard from him.

You tiptoed, reaching for his lips. He quickly met you halfway through, greedily capturing your mouth. His tongue went past your parted lips to dominate the kiss. You sigh against his mouth, missing the rich taste of his lips.

Nothing else matters now but his embrace.

Note: Hope you all enjoyed this one sjajahahagj 

This turned out a bit longer than what I had initially written only because I kind of included something to introduce characters/details that are part of my upcoming series. 

mintseesaw © 2020

[the-voltage-diaries]

Το Βόρειο Αστέρι μου - Lucifer x Diavolo

AO3 Link

Το Βόρειο Αστέρι μου: Greek for ‘My Polar Star’

Word Count: 1859

A/N: I don’t know what this is. All I know is that @simpingw0lfi3​​​​​​​ refused to do it, so I did. Of course, please don’t expect this to be perfect because... it really isn’t. 

Vote of thanks: @akaiiro-yume​​​​​ for checking and correcting all the grammatical fuck ups I did, making sure I didn’t stop writing this halfway and going through any mental breakdown I might have had instead for me. And, of course, @some-ikemen-snob​​​​​ for making sure this SCREAMED Lucifer energy this way and that. only for now, but ily both.

Devildom 14th February, 20XX Saturday, 7:57 PM

Dear Diary,

      I suppose I've never written a journal entry such as this in the past, for I haven't found either the desire or the will to task myself with writing my thoughts down in a manner wherein I speak to an inanimate object. That said, I have been told writing is, in a manner of speaking, therapeutic, and I believe I could do with some of that right now. It would be false to assume I don’t still harbour any inhibitions towards using my time in this manner, especially when I'd much rather be by Diavolo’s side. The very same Diavolo who, as a matter of fact, happens to be the subject of this writing session today. Strangely enough, and if I recall correctly, he was also the one who introduced - which is putting it rather mildly - me to the “art” of journal entries. I admit, I haven’t given this activity the kind of gravity which was probably expected out of me, but then again, today is a little different from the rest. I'm not entirely certain as to where to begin, but I do believe I have been told in situations like these, one should do whatever... feels right.

      Diavolo is... well, where do I even begin? He is the future of Devildom, as a few might call it - myself included. While he does appear to be quite the cheerful and at times careless lord, it’d be a lie to deny that he is just as wise and compassionate underneath that wave of buoyancy radiating off of him. Honest to a fault, but with his moral compass always pointing towards the best interest of those around him. I’ll admit, sometimes it proves to be rather difficult to believe that he indeed is a demon. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to compare him to the Polaris considering he does quite radiate the charisma from himself, shining admirably amidst a dark sea of onlookers. While in name he rules over all the demons in the land of Devildom, the right set of eyes won’t take too long to deduce the eloquence with which his fingers reach out to the soul of every single resident of the land, holding them together better than gravity ever bound humans to the earth. 

      Saying that is all there is to him would be a lie whiter than the wet snow, making its way to the tips of my fingers and sliding off gently onto this page. That, of course, doesn’t mean describing how I feel towards him is no herculean task. There are some cases when a language -  no matter the plethora of vocabulary it offers - just isn’t sufficient enough, and this certainly is one of those cases. For the time being, let’s just owe my lack of articulacy to the bond of mutual respect and trust Diavolo and I share, built over centuries upon centuries, braving the ravages of time, and even perhaps the less than pleasing antics my brothers tend to pull. But while the impression the ruler of all demons and I tend to emit may seem to be distanced by a careful degree of professionalism, I don’t believe anybody knows that that might not be the case. Even Diavolo himself. Doesn’t come as a surprise, really, for they simply can’t know.

      Why do I believe that to not be the case, then? Well, I would wonder why I felt so strongly about it had I not known the reason myself. The very same reason which is now a secret so surreptitious that I can’t help but consider burning this piece of paper once I finish writing to ensure it is never revealed to another set of eyes. Such dastardly is the nature of this emotion, tricking one into its delusive warmth, encompassing them with the belief that nothing truly is impossible, that what they feel might just be true and meaningful enough to be returned by the other they feel for, only to cackle with glee and turn away when the reality doesn’t match the fantasy it was believed to turn out to be. The very same emotion which in layman’s terms is apparently called... love.

      I’m not entirely certain I understand the extent of its exquisite existence myself, to be truthful. All I know is no matter how intensely I try to shut the door on its escaping fumes, it turns futile the second I lay my eyes on the man in question. While the rest of the known universe sees an omnipotent leader binding everyone together, making them sing the same tune in harmony, I see what I can only consider an anchor, grounding me, making it so that I can’t ever fall into the abyss of the darkness that breathes inside of me and float away. He is the quintessence of the best of what the world has to offer, with his golden eyes sparkling like stardust, weaving their ever-lasting magic into the hearts of whoever they come across - be it human, or demon, or angel - wrapping them in their never-ending warmth, letting them sink into the depths of benevolence they promise. His hair are the cerise of a raging inferno, sheltering beneath their canopy a quick, sensible, erudite mind. His smile is but a warm culmination of everything optimistic and positive, like a flame inviting moths to it, reaching out to give their innermost yearnings a hand to grab on to and never let go. Simply divine. And this is where the paths diverge, I suppose.

      They see a to-be Demon King, I see Diavolo.

      But alas, love is a fickle mistress. Getting too lost in the charm of her alluring arms will only result in a doom of them wrapping around your neck, enticing, until you realise their hold is tightening. Not to hold on, but to suffocate. I might have gotten so lost in that fiery gaze that I didn’t notice it start to crawl along my skin, leaving a charred, burnt path in its wake. The very anchor which I believed to be the one to ground me and hold me close etched itself deeper into the oceanic floor of delirium, drowning me. The threads of his stardust wrapped themselves around me and clutched hard enough to strangle. Before I knew it, the symphony of something meaningful became the cacophony of a nightmare.

      This red thread strung through itself earlier today the series of events I’d rather forget. I’ve known how I feel towards Diavolo for a while now, and I had been searching for an opportunity to come clean and let him know about it for the last few days. Not to say I hadn’t gotten said opportunities at all, but one could owe it to me being too prideful to admit I was finally opening up to the idea of accepting feelings and... emotions. Around that time was when Solomon let slip a few details about the significance of Valentine’s day in the human world as an annual occurrence to celebrate romantic love, friendship, and admiration, and with enough persistence, Asmodeus managed to convince Diavolo to declare the day as an official holiday. Just a few hours ago I walked along the empty hallways to Diavolo’s office, knowing him, Barbatos and I to be the only ones in the building, still choosing work over any form of inactivity. By then, I had talked myself into finally telling the most powerful of all demons about the feelings I harboured towards him. I am a little embarrassed to admit that I was indeed a tad hopeful, wishing for the feelings to be returned. Once I reached the door to his private office, my hand settled above the smooth hardwood to give it a knock. And that’s when I noticed that the door was already slightly ajar. I heard a voice inside, other than Diavolo’s, and I took the liberty to glance inside, only for my hopes to come crashing down when the realisation struck me: I shouldn’t have done that.

      Inside his office, Diavolo sat in his seat with his mouth pressed against another, a hand trailing across the small face with dark green locks framing it with elegance while the other held on to the person’s waist, pulling him closer. My eyes widened when the smaller man of the two let out a muffled whimper, perched on Diavolo’s lap. Barbatos. I felt my heart squeeze out a pained croak at the sight, and even though every single nerve in my body begged me to move away and forget I ever saw anything, my legs didn’t move. They stayed glued to their spot on the floor even as I felt it crumble beneath my feet, just the way my eyes stayed on Diavolo. My lip trembled with a longing I never thought I’d experience when Barbatos intertwined his fingers with Diavolo’s, smiling into the kiss they shared, like the perfect harmony which was always meant to be. It was when Diavolo broke the kiss, eyes meeting the other’s and whispers of love and confessions floating across the room until they settled on my ears, that I finally felt the mask crack. The facade I had worked on for centuries to lay the foundation of crumbled as my fists clenched, letting myself have a moment of weakness when a lone tear of frustration, delay, anger, and self loathing dripped down my cheek. I looked up at the ceiling, a voiceless laugh tumbling across my lips at the cognisance that the Polaris I was reaching out for, shining proud in the middle of a dark, cloudless sky, was beyond my reach, and... never supposed to be mine. How far I could stretch, how willing were my fingers to make one last attempt to touch it’s light and bask in it - all of that didn’t matter anymore.

      I exhaled a shaky breath, blinking once as I tucked away whatever it is I was going to tell Diavolo in some corner of my mind, crushing the key with a hard snap of my fingers. My eyes found Barbatos again, glazing over with a heartfelt wish for him to find his happiness, at least. It was with one last aching smile towards Diavolo and a euphoric laugh spilling from Barbatos’ lips that I turned on my heel, shaking my head at the fate I was handed. Needless to say, I hold no malice towards either of them - they’re both precious to me, as much as I dislike admitting it.

      I believe I have shared more than what was required, and I shall burn this piece of paper lest anyone finds it. One might call it wishful thinking on my part, but I do pray that watching the last signs of anything I harbour towards the one who wasn’t meant to be mine from the start burn as the embers of the fire consume it whole makes me put a lid on my feelings once and for all, for they were never supposed matter. They weren’t supposed to exist to begin with.

      After all, only a prince deserves a fairy-tale with a happy ending, and I am no prince.

Lucifer.

[dreamthinkimagine]

Ugly

Here’s the fic from the Voting Poll. Also apparently Leonard Nimoy lived life thinking he was ugly and in reality he was beautiful.

For @august-anon and whoever left me that very kind anonymous message.

WARNING: sad!spock​

It all started with some simple banter in the break room. Okay, maybe it was more of an “Everyone Roast Bones Hour,” but after ten minutes of continuous jokes, Bones fought back with one of only two safe ways he knew. The other being a gentle hit, but that would probably lead to more commentary since he took an oath to do no harm. So he went with the other.

“Nohohohoho!” screeched Chekov as his ribs were attacked by the vicious doctor; his hands sliding up and down the ladder of bones.

“You shoulda thought about this before saying anything, Chekov,” said McCoy nonchalantly.

“Aye, Lad. You shouldn’t have insulted the hair on his head.”

“Thank you, Scotty.”

“Yeh shoulda gone for the hair on his arms! Thickest I’ve ever seen!”

“That’s it!” McCoy let go of Chekov and tackled Scotty to the floor, digging into his belly. Scotty screamed as laughter bolted out of his mouth. His legs kicked and he tried to roll from side to side to save his sensitive stomach.

“I don’t know why you’d make fun of McCoy’s hair,” said Kirk. “Especially since your getting a little bald spot. Is your head hair going to his arms?” Kirk had been laughing through this whole ordeal, certainly not as hard as Scotty or Chekov, but hard enough not to notice when Spock left the room. As soon as he did notice, however, he stood and left without another word and without Scotty or McCoy even knowing.

***

Spock laid down on his bed staring at the ceiling. Everything rang thorough his head - the insults, the chants, the cruel songs. Everything. The ones that stuck out the most weren’t the insults about him being part human. The ones that he remembered most was when he’d be called ugly.

Due to his human heritage and nose they’d call him, “Elephant seal.”

They’d chant, “Ugly! Ugly! Ugly!” That was a double insult, since “ugly” was a human word.

They’d sing, “Vile profile! Spock has a vile profile!” His human part thought it sounded odd, but his Vulcan part knew what they meant, so his human half hurt. His human half still hurt.

As he stood and looked at his reflection in the mirror on his wall, his fear came true. One of his deepest insecurities had grown - they always did after he had these flashbacks. When he looked in the mirror, he didn’t like what he saw. He saw an ugly crossbreed. His eyes were small, his nose was too big. He had what humans called “laugh lines” - Vulcans didn’t laugh. Or even smile. They were ugly.

He was ugly.

The more he looked at himself, the more disgusting his face became. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. It was almost as if he was frozen, left to himself and his thoughts. Humans judged by appearances. If he was ugly on Vulcan, he must look horrendous to the humans. He looked so different from them with his eyebrows and ears. How could they see him as an equal when he was so ugly?

The Vulcans thought he was ugly. The humans thought he was ugly. It had to be true. Perhaps that was why he was often treated as an outsider. Treated like he was different.

His door opened. “I thought you’d be here,” Kirk said stepping into his quarters. “I wanted to check up on you. You left so quickly that...Spock?” The half-Vulcan had turned his back to Jim, sparing him from having to look upon his monstrosity of a face. “Look at me, Spock. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Captain,” he lied as he slowly turned to face him. “You may depart and resume comradery with the rest of the bridge crew.”

“I make the rules around here, Spock, and  I’m - ”

“Starfleet makes the rules and regulations of each starship, Captain.”

“...And I’m staying. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Is that an order, Sir?”

“...Yes.”

“I just thought it most logical to exit before everyone turned their insults toward me.”

“Ah, you mean your being half Vulcan and half human.”

“Somewhat...” Spock said quietly, turning away again. “I thought they might  comment on my appearance. I thought you might.”

“What are you talking about, Spock?”

“You humans call it... ‘ugly’.””

“You are not ugly, Spock. Look at you! How many missions have we gone on where the girls were all over you?”

“Compare that to your number of occasions where females wanted your company.”

“It’s happened to you more than Bones.”

“At least he is treated well. Humans see that I am not one of them. They treat me differently for it. Sometimes they point out my difference I even say anything.”

“Spock, you know that -”

“Of course I know it! Look at me. My nose is massive. My eyes are miniscule. I have wrinkles around my mouth. I was ugly on Vulcan and I’m ugly by human standards. Two planets - two completely different species - two different cultures. Both say it in different ways. I’m ugly, Jim.”

***

“Hey, where are Jim and Spock?” Bones asked as he stood up from the floor, finally letting poor Scotty go.

“I saw ze Captain leave, but Spock was already gone,” Chekov took a sip of the drink he must have gotten while Bones was getting his revenge on Scotty, whose breathless giggles sounded in the background.

“Well I gotta get them too. Jim making fun of my arm hair and Spock is probably trying to protect him. Let’s go, Scotty.”

“’Let’s’?” Scotty asked as he sat up, finally catching his breath.

“Yes, ‘let’s,’ the two of us.”

“Why?”

“Because he made fun of your hair too!” A memory of Kirk mocking his hair played in his head, as vague as it may have been since he was distracted at the time, it still played.

“Aye, he did. Alright, Doctor; let’s go.” As soon as he was alone, Chekov shook his head with a smile.

“Zis is going to be a long night,” and took another sip of his drink.

***

Kirk sat with Spock, flabbergasted over what he just said. How could he repel the words and actions of two planets. Two separate people. Two separate cultures - wait a minute. That was it!

“Spock, I want you to listen to me now.” The Vulcan made a small sound, he was listening, even though he wouldn’t show Jim his face. “You’re part human.”

“Do not remind me.”

“Unlike Vulcans, most humans believe in the phrase ‘beauty comes from within’.”

“I’m not like you within. My heart is where your ribs should be.”

“Most humans believe that physical appearance doesn’t matter. Looks don’t define beauty, but it is how you behave that makes you beautiful. The way you speak, how you treat others, how you treat yourself. I can’t promise you that there won’t be anyone ever again who will treat you different or even say that you’re ugly. But I can promise you that you are one of the most beautiful people inside that I know.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m saying that the people who bullied you, shouldn’t bother you anymore because they ignore the universal truth - that beauty does not come from the outside; but from inside. They looked over your beauty and proved their own ugliness. Spock, you’re intelligent, kind-hearted, and very loyal. These are three of the many things humanity knows is beautiful. You’re not ugly, Spock. And I’m lucky to have you as my first officer and friend.”

Spock didn’t know what to say, how to react. Thankfully, he didn’t have to because his door suddenly flew open to reveal a smug looking doctor and a proud engineer. Before Kirk could even speak, Bones looked at the Scotsman. “You get Jim. I’ll get Spock.” As the two of them were tickled to pieces, Spock didn’t hold back and let his laugh lines show.

Because he knew now that he was not ugly.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Missed Opportunities in 400 Days

Hey, remember when TWDG Season One ended and we were a group of emotional messes? Remember when Season Two was announced and we were gonna get a DLC to bridge S1 and S2 together and we were extra excited for everything to come? Because I do. 

To be fair, I truly did enjoy 400 Days when it first came out years ago, and it’s not like I hate it now or anything... I just can’t help but look at it and see wasted potential on every level-- the characters and their development, the stories, the impact our choices made for the future...

The concept of 400 Days-- a collection of stories that follow different protagonists and the situations they find themselves in within the zombie apocalypse that eventually connect to one another-- is a great one. I love the idea of mini-episodes that are all connected, and one choice you made in one episode affects the next episode you play... so what happened? Why does it fall flat now when we look back on it?

Well, a major reason for me is the fact that all four seasons of the main game are complete. When 400 Days came out, we didn’t have S2, so we didn’t know what our choices meant. That lead to us theorizing about what would happen if we got everyone to go with Tavia, or what would happen if no one but Bonnie went. Why was Bonnie the only one who agrees no matter what? What could that mean?

And we have those answers now, and it’s a let down... especially when it could’ve been so much better. That’s what I wanna talk about today. I wanna talk about what I think are the biggest missed opportunities in 400 Days. 

5. Giving Shel and her dumb sister actual personalities

Of all the stories you can play in 400 Days, Shel’s episode is probably the worst due to the fact that she and her dumb sister lack any memorable qualities or personalities.... which is such a shame because this story also has one of the more interesting moral dilemma’s. 

In this story, you play as Shel who is surviving in the diner/gas station with a group that consists of some of the cancer patients from S1. Remember them? They were with Vernon and helped him steal out boat? Yeah, they got away and apparently Vernon died and the group feel apart over the damn boat, but you don’t get much more than that. 

Shel has this dumb sister who I can’t be bothered to remember her name because she’s that bland. Her sister is basically Shel’s personality. Take away her sister, and you’re left with nothing. 

They’re going for the “Oh man, I don’t know what this world is doing to my dumb sister, it’s changing her, I don’t want her to have to do things like murder, I want her to have a normal childhood,” but that falls flat when they don’t give me a reason to care about them in the first place. 

Like I said, the moral dilemma for this one IS interesting-- They catch someone who tried to steal from them. The man is injured pretty bad, and he can’t speak English, so there is no way for them to communicate with him. Roman, the dude who acts as the leader of our group, says that they can’t keep him here but they can’t send him back out there... and that means killing him. 

So what do you do? Do you risk it by giving this man a second chance, give him some food and send him on his way and hope he doesn’t come back and do more harm? Or do you kill this man so that there is no risk in him coming back to do harm? 

And you as Shel are the swing vote. That’s not an easy choice to make, plus you gotta think about how that choice is gonna affect your dumb sister?

Except it doesn’t really matter.... at all. No matter what you do, Roman still cracks down and wants to murder another member of the group who tries to escape, Shel’s dumb sister is still a brat who talks big but never does anything, and Shel is still a stale piece of white bread. 

If they wanted us to care, then give Shel something other than her sister. Maybe they could’ve had her be someone who doesn’t really have a backbone, she tries to avoid conflict and is intimidated by Roman, she doesn’t speak up even when she should, and then her dumb sister could be the opposite-- Loud, take charge, wants to get more involved with protecting the group, isn’t afraid to stand up to Roman which causes him to take her under his wing and wanna turn her into a murder baby... which Shel definitely doesn’t want so what could she do to keep her dumb sister away from him? 

If they wanted to tell the story of a woman worried her sister is going to grow up cold and ruthless because of the world around her, then tell that story. Show us that story, show us what happens when you agree to kill the man and now her dumb sister genuinely believes that murder is an easy solution to their problems, so when it comes to the woman who escaped, the dumb sister volunteers to kill her and Roman lets her... and you as Shel gotta decide if you wanna fight that by running away or just let it happen. 

I dunno man, but Shel’s story is my least favorite of the bunch because I have no reason to care about either of them, and that’s a waste. 

4. Nate’s a shithead so they should’ve used him more

Well, hello again, Nate... we meet once more here on T5F. 

So yeah, I’ve talked about this crazy bastard on a previous list about characters no one likes, so you’re probably wondering why I’m saying that he should’ve been around more.

That’s the thing, I hate Nate. He’s gross, he’s brutal, and he’s uncomfortable with those crazy eyes of his... but he would’ve made for a fun antagonist in more of 400 Days, as well as in S2. 

Depending on what episode you play first, Nate can either first appear in Wyatt’s story, or Russell’s. In Wyatt’s story, Nate is chasing down him and Eddie after Eddie accidentally killed a guy who was with Nate, and Nate here is chasing them down for some revenge. He eventually finds them, and who ever is left in the car as no choice but to flee, leaving the other behind. 

Nate plays a more active part in Russell’s story, picking him off the highway and chatting with him on the way to the diner/gas station, and y’know how Shel has no personality? Well, I think I know where all the personality went because Nate’s got quite a bit of it. He’s one of the more memorable parts of 400 Days for a reason. He has a weird charisma about him, but then he starts talkin’ gross and almost gets Russell’s face eaten off by a walker and you get the idea that this man isn’t quite right, y’know?

Then we make it to the diner/gas station where they get shot at, and Nate insists on finishing this... as in, let’s go in and shoot whoever is shooting us. They sneak in, and the old man there says Nate is back to finish the job... which isn’t great. Nate acts like he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but then suggests they kill the old couple using a line from the story Russell told her.... y’know, the story that’s kinda triggering for Russell. 

At this point, Russell can either tell Nate off and leave, or he can stay where Nate will kill the couple right in front of him and claim that Russell is his boy and it is not great.

We know that either way, Russell gets away from Nate. We never see him again so he could be dead, turned, or alive. All I can think about is the fact that they created the beginnings of a compelling antagonist who could’ve bled over into S2 at Howe’s or even afterward. Like if we showed up at Howe’s and were locked up, only to find Nate locked up with us. Or maybe instead of Arvo, Nate could’ve been the one who stumbled upon Clementine and Jane and was overpowered and threatened by them... only for him to stalk them and confront them about what happened. 

Either way, there was a missed opportunity to do more with Nate. 

3. Focusing on the wrong things within Bonnie’s story

Alright, everyone’s favorite: Bonnie. 

Bonnie is the only character in 400 Days who actually matters in terms of S2... and even then, her story doesn’t matter too much...which is dumb. 

For me, Bonnie’s story is such a waste... like okay, right from the start they establish that Bonnie is a recovering addict, and I’m intrigued. The idea of an addict surviving in the apocalypse while trying to kick the stuff is interesting as hell.... but the story kinda just glosses over it unless Dee is insulting Bonnie by calling her a junkie. 

No, the story we got was Bonnie breaking up a marriage. Great. 

There’s this dude Leland who has a wife, Dee, but he and Bonnie are getting awfully snug with one another... so that’s real nice. Dee eventually finds them giving each other the look and breaks it up in a passive aggressive way before revealing she found a bag of supplies. This happens to be a bag that she “found” at the diner/gas station where Shel’s group is currently staying. 

An argument breaks out between Leland and Dee with Bonnie in the middle and it’s not compelling at all. You can just sit there and do nothing and it doesn’t matter, they continue to fight until Shel’s group spots them and they gotta run. 

Bonnie ends up shot and falls behind, and we do get a cool scene where she has to make her way through this cornfield without getting caught. I do like that bit, it’s fun. 

But then she gets away, grabs a weapon, and hits someone walking up on her... that someone happened to be Dee. Whoops. Dee calls her a junkie, saying she killed her, and then dies.

Now comes the big choice: Do you tell Leland the truth or lie to cover your ass?

While this is an interesting choice on paper, it doesn’t matter. Leland isn’t with Bonnie in the end no matter what, and Bonnie will always agree to go with Tavia. 

Personally, I wanted the fact that she was a recovering addict to be more front and center. Throw Leland and Dee away, have Bonnie travelling on her own. Have her going through withdrawals, show us her struggle of still being hooked on drugs while surviving in the zombie apocalypse... have her stumble across Shel’s group and from a distance, she sees they have medical supplies. She’s so desperate that she sneaks in at night and steals as much as she can, but gets caught. 

We could still have her running away through the cornfield with the drugs, she can still get shot and everything... but maybe she’s so desperate for them that she ends up killing one of Shel’s group members, and she sees just what she’s willing to do in order to get these drugs, and you can make a choice of abandoning the drugs and quitting, or taking the drugs and running away... and it could actually affect Bonnie in the ending and into S2. 

Plus, her killing one of Shel’s group would help add to the debate in her episode, y’know?

I just... I wanted that story... not what we got. 

2. The past is more interesting than the present

This goes hand in hand with #3, but applies to almost everyone else. 

All of these characters that we get to play as have more interesting backstories that I was more compelled by than what they’re actually going through in their stories. 

The first time we meet Vince, he straight up murders a dude who is pleading for his life, saying he doesn’t even know Vince’s brother. Like... okay, what the hell happened here? What happened to Vince’s brother that made her commit murder like that? 

How about Wyatt and Eddie? They’re running from Nate after Eddie killed the guy he was with. They’re panicking, Eddie is covered in the dude’s blood, Wyatt doesn’t know if Eddie meant to shoot or not. You can tell they’re known each other a long time, too. They’re a couple of stoners who got themselves into hot water. 

Oh and Russell? His story is interesting as hell! He was in a group where the main guy kept going on about how seven if the perfect number for a group, ya can’t break seven, and this group eventually started killing so they could steal, so Russell got away and is now on his way to find his grandmother’s place. 

Once again... Bonnie is a recovering drug addict in the apocalypse. 

The only one without an interesting backstory is Shel... which I guess is fitting. The boring character doesn’t even get a fun backstory, she just exists. 

It’s not a good sign when I’m more interested in the past, y’know? Vince’s I can give a bit of a pass to because he killed that guy before the apocalypse broke out, and his dilemma takes place right at the start, and it’s done pretty well. 

Everyone else though? I already explained Bonnie’s, but what about Russell and his seven group? We could’ve gotten that story of a group that starts out good, the guys gives his philosophy on the dumber seven, Russell meets that one girl... but then things start to grow dark when the group starts to become desperate enough to murder and steal, the guy keeps going on about the number seven so they can’t invite anyone in, and they can’t let anyone go... so Russell has to sneak away or something. 

Wyatt and Eddie? Show ‘em there when Nate and his buddy show up. Give us the tension of “are these guys chill or are they planning something?” when Eddie gets into a fight with the other dude and ends up shooting him, Nate gets pissed, and they gotta flee. Wyatt doesn’t know if Eddie shot him intentionally or not, it’s a whole, thing and they can still hit the cop and do that whole thing, too. 

I just... I think problem is the stories were a bit too compact and short, not giving the characters a chance to develop or the stories enough compel to them. 

1. It doesn’t matter who goes to Howe’s or not and that’s dumb

Sigh..... so yeah, obviously this is #1. 

My biggest problem with 400 Days is that is doesn’t affect much. Even Bonnie’s story doesn’t affect what she does in S2.

As for the rest, if you only got Bonnie at Howe’s, then the rest and their fate’s are unknown. But if you do manage to get everyone to go with Tavia, they are at Howe’s... the problem is, they show up in small cameos that literally do nothing. 

Ya got Wyatt who walks past Clementine like “Dude you better hurry, Bill doesn’t like to wait” like.... what, am I just supposed to get excited and point at him like “oooohhh I know him! I know him! That Wyatt! Hehehehe!” because I didn’t do that...

Or Vince randomly showing up to catch Tavia smoking, or Shel and her dumb sister making a comment about Sarah, it’s just dumb. 

And then Howe’s falls and their fates are left unknown anyway.... so it didn’t matter. 

I’ll just say what most of us were thinking.... Why weren’t they the cabin group? No, seriously, why weren’t the 400 Day’s crew the cabin group? Because it was too hard given the fact that there are so many combos? That’s fair, but if that’s the case, then what was the point of 400 Days?

Did they just want to tell a bunch of smaller stories within this world but never actually planned on using them outside of fun cameos in S2, with the exception of Bonnie? That probably is the case... and I think my disappointment in 400 Days does stem from being in the fandom at the time and getting hyped to see what they would do with these characters, only for it to be this. 

Not only that, but then I started to think about how they could’ve done with game but with the actual cabin group from S2. Luke, Nick, Pete could’ve had their own story dealing with Nick’s mom getting bit after they took in a bite victim. 

Rebecca and Alvin could’ve had a story about their marriage kinda falling apart despite them trying hard, and this could help make her affair with Carver make more sense. 

Carlos and Sarah could have a story that explains Carlos’ over protectiveness and as well as explore Sarah as a character. 

Hell, give Mike a story. 

Give JANE a story about her and Jaime so that her appearing outta no where isn’t jarring, and develops her and the reasons she treats survival the way she does.

There was so much they could’ve done with this idea... and to be honest, if we ever get another game in this series, I would love it in this style but expanded into a season where each episode follows a different character and tells a different story, but in the end they all end up connecting. There is SO MUCH you can do with that!

But alas..... 400 Days for me is full of missed opportunities and I wish it wasn’t. 

---

Honorable Mentions

-Eddie only appeared in Wyatt’s episode and then disappeared until his death in S4.... Eddie’s great, should’ve been around more. -Would’ve been nice if the cancer group from S1 was expanded on, give more context to what the hell happened to Vernon and the boat, y’know? -a bit more development for Tavia would’ve been nice, as well... she just kinda shows up at the end and recruits who she can. 

---

So what are your thoughts on 400 Days? Do you agree with these missed opportunities, or have any to add? Lemme know, it’s always fun to chat.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

Next week’s T5F Top 5 Reasons Gabe’s Pretty Great, Y’all Are Just Mean

[apocalypseornaw]

Always be Yours-9

Word Count: 4,901

Story Summary: Follows Dean and the reader through season 9 into season 10

Chapter Summary: With no other choice Crowley is enlisted to free Sam of the angel's grasp

Warnings: cursing, fights, blood,death the usual

When Cas made it to the bunker you weren’t sure if Dean had even told him everything that had happened. When he walked into the library where you and Dean were currently gathering what weapons you’d need it confirmed he in fact had no idea what all had gone down when he asked “What happened?”

You stopped mid movement and cut your eyes at Dean who took a deep breath before saying “We need to catch you up on a lot Cas” you saw the look of confusion on Cas’ face so you motioned to the chairs “Let’s sit down” Cas took a seat so you sat next to him and Dean sat across the table. Dean’s eyes were cast downward and you could only imagine what he was saying to himself in that movement, the horror that was his own mind working against him half the time. You could only guess that little voice inside of his head telling him he wasn’t good enough. You hated that little voice and would give anything to make Dean never listen to it again.

“I made a mistake Cas” he started but you quickly cut in “We made the mistake Dean..We” Cas looked between the two of you so you elaborated “After the trials, when Sam collapsed Dean called me. By the time I got to their sides Sam was dying and Dean had already put a call out to any angel for help. I came in to Dean being attacked and the angel who introduced himself as Ezekiel intervening. He was hurt in the fall so he couldn’t heal Sam..Cas honey we had a lot of pissed off angels coming down on our asses looking for you so we had to make a quick decision. Let Sam die or let the angel in” 

“Whoever the angel was he..he hijacked Sam then he killed Kevin and took the angel tablet” you added not meeting Dean’s eyes. “Sammy was dying and he said it was the only way. I believed him and now Sam’s gone..Kevin’s” his voice trailed off at the end so you looked up towards Cas as he said “Dean I’m sorry” “Sorry doesn’t pay the bills, does it?” Dean replied and you let out a harsh breath as he pushed away from the table and stood turning his back to you and Cas before adding “It sure as hell ain’t gonna bring Kevin back..We got to find the son of a bitch”

Cas looked at you to ask “If the angel possessing Sam isn’t Ezekiel than who is it?” “A dead man walking” Dean replied, turning back around. “You’re gonna destroy him? You kill an angel it’s vessel dies too” Cas asked. Your entire body felt like it’d been dipped into ice. There had to be a different way. You couldn't kill the angel not while he was inside of Sam and you wouldn’t let anyone else. “There’s got to be a different way” you met Dean’s eyes as you said it. You refused to give up on him or Sam. It wasn’t in you.

He walked back over to the table and leaned down before saying “Sweetheart if we don’t end it and that halo burns him out..god damn I was so stupid” You looked to Cas silently begging him for help. He stood up as he said “You were stupid for the right reasons” “Yeah like that matters” Dean argued so you stood up next to Cas and said “It does” “Sometimes that’s all that matters” Cas added.

You nodded then said “Cas, Sam is strong if he knew somehow that an angel was possessing him he could fight couldn’t he?” “He could cast the angel out” he agreed. 

Dean shook his head at both of you “Maybe but he’s in the dark. How the hell would we clue him in?” You could see a thought occur to Cas before he asked Dean “Do you remember Alfie?”

You looked towards Dean as he said “The kid angel, yeah why?” “Before he died he told me the demons were able to dig into his mind, access his coding. We might be able to do that here. Might be able to bypass the angel and talk directly to Sam” “You think that would work?” you asked hopeful and Cas shrugged “I don’t know but I think we owe it to Sam to try, don't you?” 

At an actual plan being formed Dean nodded slowly “Well where do we start?” “Do you still have Crowley locked up here?” Cas questioned so you nodded “He’s in the armory locked up tight” “Then we should start there”

------

You watched Dean draw a syringe of blood out his own arm. Once he was through you held a rag out to wipe the blood away. “Thanks” you nodded checking to ensure it’d stopped bleeding. He laid his hand over yours when you started to pull away “I mean for a lot more than that”

You walked into the armory behind Cas after Dean turned the light on. Crowley blinked a time or two then smiled “Hello boys” when he spotted you he added “And hello sweets” Cas stepped back over to block you from his vision and you half smiled at the protectiveness. Dean pulled the syringe out his pocket “Ok, here’s the deal. You’re gonna tell us how to hack an angel and I’m gonna give you some of the good stuff. Human blood, fresh from the tap.Word is you’re jonesing for it” Crowley shook his head “Please. I’ll pass”

“What do you want then?” Cas asked. Crowley looked between the three of you then said “Well for starters a massage between the sitting and the shackles a body gets a little stiff” “Yeah I ain’t rubbing you and Y/N damn sure isn’t” Dean quickly shut him down but he replied “Didn’t want you or sweets. Get Kevin, his tiny fists can really work wonders” “Kevin’s dead” you bit out and actually saw Crowley’s face fall just slightly “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that”

Cas pushed you towards Dean before walking over to the table “Don’t pretend you care, you tried to kill him” Crowley was undeterred “I told him this was gonna happen. I was the only person who tried to warn him. I told him to run” “From what?” you asked  and Crowley cut his eyes at you “From your boyfriend sweets” You saw that haunted look pass through Dean’s eyes again as Crowley looked his way “How many times am I gonna have to say this? People in your general vicinity don’t have much in the way of a life-span” Cas threw a look your way and you knew he was thinking along the same lines as you were but there was no time for that now considering Crowley continued “Now I can’t teach you how to crack open an angel. It’s more art than science. But I can do it for you. All I ask in return is a little field trip, dying for some fresh air” then held up his hands and added “Chains on naturally”

“No,” Dean said, then turned to walk out grabbing your hand but stopped when Crowley said “No? Of course not because if I’m plan a I’m sure you have a totally viable much better plan b. That’s why your angel and your girl is still paying any attention to me” 

Dean stopped and motioned Cas over. You stepped to the side to let Cas get close enough to you both. “You can’t be considering this” he said but you knew Dean was. Hell you were if it got Sam back. “With the chains on he can’t do anything” Dean tried but Cas did have a point when he argued “It’s Crowley. He can always do something” “Looks like we need a tie breaker. Sweets you want to vote or you want to go grab moose” You shot a glare at him and he smiled “Unless of course you can’t. That explains why you’re all here and why you and squirrel are up for letting me out. The poor giant baby’s in trouble again isn’t he” You wanted nothing more than to knock that damn smirk off his face but you felt Cas grab your arm as if he knew so you remained in place while Dean walked towards Crowley “Are you done?”

“Depends, do we have a deal?” Crowley asked and Dean looked back to you and Cas. You sighed and nodded so he told Crowley yeah. “Excellent, when do we leave?” “Want to take the jeep?” you asked and he shook his head “I don’t want him in your jeep” Cas spoke up and said “I have a vehicle. It stopped a few miles from here inexplicably” Dean nodded “Ok” then looked at Crowley “We’ll be back to grab you”

------

A few questions about how the car was acting before it died confirmed it probably just ran out of gas so you grabbed the spare can from the garage while Dean grabbed Crowley and the bag of weapons.

You walked next to Cas because him and Dean had Crowley between them. You had silver bullets in your gun and an angel blade in your jacket along with all the supplies Dean had despite the fact that the four of you walking down the road was probably a little strange looking to any passerby you made it to the tan lincoln without issue.

Crowley looked at the car then back at Cas “Really? Are you a pimp?” you rolled your eyes at him “There’s nothing wrong with your car Cas” Cas smiled at you “Thank you Y/N. I like it” Dean walked to the open driver’s window and tried the ignition “Yeah it’s out of gas” he moved to put the gas in the car and you noticed Cas once again put himself between you and Crowley. “Riddle me this boy wonder why do you need the wheels?” Crowley asked looking around him at you as he spoke.

Cas took a half step towards him “When you betray us, I’ll be the one to carve your heart out” you felt your eyes widen at that. “Cas, what a flirt” Crowley smiled and you shook your head. Jesus angels and demons were so far from what you’d originally thought hunting was. Dean stood up after the car had gas in it “Alright, let’s go”

“Shotgun” Crowley called out but Dean pointed his finger at him “No, you’re in the back” You shrugged but Dean added “Cas, ride back there with him. I don’t want him that close to Y/N”

You watched the two of them climb in the backseat then cut your eyes at Dean before climbing in. “Watch the leg” Cas growled to which Crowley grumbled “You’re on my side!” “CHILDREN! COOL IT!” you hollered and they both stopped. Crowley grinned “Or what sweets?” you narrowed your eyes at him “I care about Cas but you? I’ll gladly stab you in the face” his grin only got bigger at that “I see just why squirrel likes you”

Dean glared at Crowley in the mirror then cranked the car up. When the music started you had the mental image of Cas listening to the station and it was amusing. You saw Dean cut his eyes at you and if it wasn’t for the angel and demon in the backseat you probably would’ve reached for his hand but instead you simply assured him “I’m good”

------

Crowley gave Dean the directions to Waldroff Financial. When he parked and all of you climbed out the car Cas quickly put himself between you and Crowley again. You followed the three of them across the parking lot and into the building. “Your source is here?” Dean asked Crowley who replied “And she can track anything, even our little lost Samantha” Dean pulled you over to sit next to him while the four of you waited. His hand came to rest on your knee which you’d found was more of a comfort thing to him than anything while Crowley explained that the building you were currently in was a front for an N.S.A. listening post. “What are the listening for?” Cas asked and Crowley shrugged “Everything, The U.S. government is quite the voyeur these days so I planted one of my best and let her go to work” 

A security guard walked over and addressed Crowley “Mr Crowley she’ll see you now” all of you stood but he shook his head “Just Mr Crowley” before Crowley walked off Cas reminded him “I’ll be listening to every word you say”

You sat back down to wait this time between Cas and Dean. A few minutes passed then Dean checked his watch and asked Cas “Hear anything?”  “No” Cas replied so you guessed “The room’s warded isn’t it?” he nodded. “Awesome, that’s frickin awesome” Dean grumbled, rubbing your knee slightly. You put your hand over his to stop any further movements and he glanced up at your face so you mouthed “Breathe baby” he nodded slowly turning his hand to lace his fingers with yours. You used your free hand to touch Cas’ arm “Just give him a few minutes. If he acts up I’ll hand you the blade to carve his heart out”

------

Twenty long minutes passed before Crowley walked back down the stairs. All of you stood to meet him and he held out a photo of baby from a traffic cam “Your phallus on wheels just ran a red light in Somerset Pennsylvania ten minutes ago”  “Let’s go” you urged and Crowley nodded towards you “What sweets said”

------

When you made it to Somerset Dean cut his eyes at you as he parked “If I asked you to stay here?” “I’d tell you to bite me and not mean it sexually” you replied and he sighed “Thought so”

You followed him and Cas down the road to where baby was parked and ran a hand along her side as you walked past her. You knew the drill, stay out the way mainly because they were worried this angel may pinpoint you as a bargaining chip not only for the two of them but for Sam as well.

You followed Dean into the door and nudged his arm then pointed to what was clearly blood. The two of you followed it into the living room to find a body with his throat slashed then heard water running from the kitchen. He reached one hand to be able to touch you as both of you followed the sound. 

The angel wearing Sam’s face stood at the sink with his back towards you washing his hands. He turned the water off before saying “Dean, you and Y/N should not have come here” then turned to face the two of you.  “You killed our friend then took Sam and you think I’m gonna let that stand?” “I allowed you to live, I allowed her to live” The angel replied motioning towards you Dean shrugged “Mistake letting me live” 

The angel flung you both backwards and you landed in a heap but as he walked towards the two of you Cas walked in behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, when he turned Cas hit him once and he went down. “Damn” you breathed as Dean helped you to your feet. You glanced down at Sam’s still then back to Dean “What now?” “We get him up and get somewhere to hack his ass” you picked up the discarded angel blades you and Dean dropped then looked from him to Cas “Well I’ll leave carrying the giant to the two of you”

------

You drove Cas’ car while Dean loaded the angel wearing Sam, Cas and Crowley into baby. You followed him a few miles out of town until he pulled off at a warehouse near the water so you parked behind him then climbed out and walked up beside the impala. Cas glanced your way when Crowley questioned “Why couldn’t I ride with sweets?” and said “Because Dean nor I want you alone with her” you shot Cas a small smile then watched as he helped Dean carry Sam’s still form inside.

You followed them inside and stood back while they went about chaining Sam’s form down to a chair. Cas reached a hand out so you gladly let him push you behind him. He had grace back flowing through him so even with clipped wings he was in a lot better shape than you were to face an angel.

Cas had already done an initial check of Sam’s injuries so when the angel started stirring Dean walked into his line of vision “Welcome to the party pal” then nodded to Cas “How we looking?” you glanced towards Cas for the answer and let out a relieved breath when the answer was “Most of Sam’s internal burns have healed. I should be able to fix the rest” he looked from Dean to you before addressing the angel in Sam “What’s your name? I thought I knew every angel in heaven, but I’ve never seen you”

The angel glared at the three of you and it made a shiver of horror run up your spine at just how little he sounded like Sam in that moment “Why would I tell you anything?” Dean took a step towards the angel as he said “Well I don’t give a damn who you are. You need to get out now!” “And if I don’t?” the angel challenged to which Crowley actually spoke up and said “Then you and I will have a lovely little playdate”

The angel set his eyes on you when he said “Even bound I can rip this body apart. Tell them Castiel.” “You do, you die” Dean growled but the angel was undeterred “You want this to end? Go ahead and put a blade through your brother’s heart” you felt your chest clench at that very thought and at the look on Dean’s face. You cared too much about both brothers to see that happen, if it came down to it you wouldn’t let Dean.

The angel looked up at Dean “If it makes you feel better, I have Sam locked away in a dream. As far as he knows you, him and Y/N are working a case right now. Something with ghouls and cheerleaders” Dean turned away from him and caught your eye for just a moment before asking him “Why are you doing this? We fought together and I trusted you. You saved Sam and Y/N. I thought you were one of the good guys!”  When that actually seemed to affect the angel that made you curious. It seemed to hurt him when Dean said he thought he was one of the good guys. “I am doing what I have to do” he argued so you shrugged “So are we” 

You nodded to Dean so he looked to Crowley who slowly stood up and grabbed one of the large needles that were laid out onto the table. “So am I” he repeated before digging the first needle into Sam’s skull. The scream the angel let out was pure pain. Cas turned his head away but Dean looked straight on, you knew he was punishing himself for the fact that he still blamed himself for what the angel did. You swallowed hard to keep the bile down that was threatening to come up your throat. Possessed or not that was your best friend in that chair and seeing Dean in pain on top of that? It was almost too much for you to bear.

------

By the time Crowley got the third needle in you couldn’t handle it anymore. You stood from where you’d been sitting “Dean, I’m sorry baby but I can’t” and quickly walked out the room they were in. You felt too hot, like your jacket was choking you despite the cool night. You couldn’t help none of them like this, damn you felt weak.

You sat there on the damp floor trying to catch your breath before you heard footsteps.You didn’t have to glance up to know it was Dean and Cas. You glanced up and Dean shook his head “I couldn’t do it anymore either” 

“It’s not Sam but it’s still Sam” Cas reasoned and you nodded from where you sat. You flinched every time the angel screamed. Cas held a hand out so you let him pull you up to your feet. You glanced at Dean then asked Cas “How are you doing?” 

Cas looked confused for a second as he looked between both of you “You want to talk about me? Now?” “I want to talk about anything that’s not a demon sticking needles into my brother’s brain and I know Y/N feels the same” when Dean’s voice cracked you reached for his arm and he pulled you into his side before he begged “Please humor us Cas, how ya doing?” 

“Um, I’m ok” Cas finally said so you pulled away from Dean and pulled him into a hug. He seemed shocked for a moment then hugged you back. When you pulled away you explained “That’s for not protecting you better when you were human. Cas you’re my family you mean just as much to me as they do”  “Yeah man I’m sorry for kicking you out of the bunker, for not telling you about Sam” Dean added.

Cas simply said “You thought his life was at stake” “Yeah I got played” Dean replied so Cas reminded him “I thought I was saving heaven, I got played too” Dean scoffed “So you’re saying we’re both dumbasses” “You both wanted to trust someone. Someone who portrayed themselves as something they weren’t. Not dumb or ass” you cut in and they both gave you a small smile before Crowley called out “Laverne! Shirley! Sweets! All three of you get in here!”

------

You followed Dean and Cas back into the room. What Crowley wanted to show was that he’d dug around enough to get the angel’s true identity. Gadreel. The angel who had let Lucifer into the garden and doomed all of mankind. 

Cas rightfully had some built up anger at Gadreel but Dean pulled him back and reminded him to chill. Cas shoved his hand off but let your hand remain. “I will for Sam” you nodded a thank you before pulling your hand away.

------

With no other option you stood next to Dean and watched as Crowley’s smoke form left his vessel and flowed into Sam. Cas couldn’t get in without permission so since Sam wouldn't be fast to trust Crowley Dean told him the go word which was poughkeepsie. It meant drop everything and run. It was a system they’d come up with in their early twenties and had worked thus far.

Your eyes were on Sam’s body imagining the fight going on inside his head. You felt Dean’s hand on your lower back and leaned into his touch for comfort. You didn’t want to give voice to the thought inside your head and a part of you was relieved when Cas was the one to say “If this doesn’t work” “It’ll work” Dean cut him off before leaving a light kiss on your temple then walked across the room.

You took a deep breath while you watched Sam’s face for any indication as to what was happening.

------

“Dean!” you called his name a half second before the blinding white light of Gadreel’s essence flowing out of Sam lit up the room. Cas moved to shield your eyes from the light so you turned into his arm. Crowley’s smoke formed followed, flowing back into his vessel. “Sam!” you called moving to help Dean unchain him while Cas worked the remove the needles left behind.

“Sam are you ok?” Cas asked and you could see the confusion on Sam’s face but a vehicle pulling up broke any sort of relief that moment gave. Cas walked over to a window then glanced back “It’s Abaddon!” “Go. The back door. I’ll handle this” Crowley told Dean with a nod.

“Thanks Boris. Don’t die” you muttered while Cas and Dean supported Sam between them. You got in front of them with an angel blade in hand as a precaution. 

------

All of you got far enough away that you could stop for Cas to heal the holes in Sam’s head left by the needles. You stood back watching with your stomach in knots. Would he hate Dean for it? Would he hate you?

After Cas had healed Sam Dean walked over to join the two of them. Cas took a few steps away but you stayed where you were, close enough to hear and intervene if need be but not interfere if unneeded.

“Ok, let me hear it” Dean stated. Sam shrugged “What do you want me to say? That I’m pissed?” Dean nodded so he admitted “Ok, I am. I’m pissed. You lied to me. You got Y/N to lie to me” “He didn’t get me to do anything Sam! I agreed to lie because we didn’t have a choice at the time” you cut in but Sam wouldn’t even look your way before scoffing softly “I was ready to die! “We weren’t ready to let you” you argued and there were tears in Sam’s eyes when he did look your way “So my brother and best friend tricked me into being possessed by some psycho angel?” “He saved your life” Dean spoke and Sam shook his head “I was willing to die..and now Kevin” he trailed off and you felt your heart twist.

“No. That is not on you. Kevin’s blood is on my hands” Dean argued and you started to open your mouth but he shook his head and added “That ain’t ever getting clean” god why did he always have to take the world on his shoulder. “It’s on neither of you! It’s on Gadreel! He killed Kevin!” you stated not backing down from either of them.

“I’m going after Gadreel alone” Dean said after a moment and Sam cut his eyes at you before asking “What does that mean?” Dean tilted his head “Sammy, Y/N...People who get close to me get killed or worse. I can’t lose either of you”

“Go. I’m not going to stop you” Sam told him and you swallowed your words to let the brothers have a moment. Dean stepped away from Sam but stopped when Sam said “But don’t go thinking that’s the problem cause it’s not” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean questioned but Sam wouldn’t elaborate “Just go!”

You’d never felt more torn than standing between the two of them, watching one walk away and one stand in place. “Sam” you started but he nodded once “Go with him. He needs you more than I do right now” “Do you hate me?” you whispered and he shook his head “Never” you stepped close enough to press a kiss to his cheek then hurried to catch up to Dean before he climbed into baby.

------

When you grabbed Dean’s arm he froze and looked down at your hand “Y/N what are you doing?” you met his eyes and said “Either I go with you now or I go home and get my jeep and track you. Sam has Cas to help him, I’m not leaving you alone not now anyways” you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and expected him to argue but he took a deep breath then said “I meant that I can’t lose you sweetheart if something happened to you because of me..” he trailed off but you didn’t need him to finish the thought to know what he meant. “Well then it’s a good thing I’ll be at your side. I know if I die next to you that you did everything you could to keep me alive”

“Get in then” he finally said so you looked back at Sam and Cas before walking around to climb into the passenger seat. You weren’t choosing him over Sam you were just making the choice that felt the most right at the moment and letting Dean drive away alone? You couldn’t do that.

Tags: @facadeformyrealblog @akshi8278

[zvkos]

The Problem With Bias In S4 of TWDG

I'm sure this topic has been spoken about before, but I need to get this out of my system because my GOODNESS the choices in season 4 (in regards to Louis and Violet) suck ass! There's a clear bias between the two and I'm going to explain how below.

OKAY! SO! Going into TWDG s4, playing it for the VERY first time without learning about any of the new characters, we come from three previous games about survival. In one of them, we play as Lee, trying our best to survive, protecting Clementine, and teaching her about survival. In another, we play as Clementine trying her best to survive. In another, we see Clementine on her own as a hardened survivor. For THREE games, we -- as a player -- are trained to put survival first and foremost.

Then comes season 4.

Clem is new to the boarding school and for the first time, is surrounded by her peers. Very quickly, we learn a little bit about Louis and a little bit about Violet. It's not until Marlon gives Clem the choice to either hunt with Louis & Aasim or fish with Violet & Brody that we have to opportunity to really learn about them.

This is the first instance of bias.

When Marlon is describing the different trips, he says something like: Violet and Brody are going to go fishing, hopefully they get along enough to get some work done. When describing the hunting trip, he says: Louis and Aasim are heading to the hunting grounds. Well, Aasim will, anyway. Louis... I just hope he shows up.

We learn two things about Louis and Violet here -- One, Violet doesn't get along with Brody. Two, Louis slacks off.

Hmmmm. I don't know about you, but to me, one outweighs the other. Especially as a player who has learned to prioritize survival. Violet doesn't get along with Brody? That's fine, Clem has been in groups before where not everyone has gotten along. However, if we go with Aasim and Louis, he might not even show up -- which leaves us short a man, putting us more at risk.

Now you might be thinking: "Wow, you're thinking really hard about this choice. It's not that serious." Except IT IS. For the simple fact that whoever you choose in this decision is the character you learn the most about. If you go with Violet, you learn why she's so closed off and bitter. If you go with Louis, you learn why he goofs off and doesn't take much seriously. This choice is literally the first step down whatever route you decide to do.

I've seen soooooo many people decide to go with Violet due to the fact that Marlon says “Louis might not even show up.” A LOT of people miss the opportunity to learn more about why Louis acts the way he does, therefore leaving him as a one-note, slacker, class clown type. He barely has any depth. He's just the guy that flirts with Clementine. That's it. There's no real reason to appeal to him since you spent the least amount of time with him. (Oh yeah! AND Marlon is his best friend!)

AND THEN COMES EPISODE 2.

A.J shoots Marlon dead, Louis is PISSED at A.J and Clementine. (Rightfully so, I might add.) Violet, however, sticks up for Clem. She's on her side because she's pissed at what Marlon did. (Rightfully so, I will add again.) Once again, I've seen MAJORITY of people write Louis off in this episode. They're pissed that he's pissed at Clem & A.J. They don't want anything to do with him. Meanwhile, Violet is by your side throughout the episode.

In what UNIVERSE does a brand new player see this, and is like: "Well, I still like Louis better." I haven't seen a single one. It doesn't even make any sense to put the romance option in this episode because of the CRAZY imbalance between characters.

Should you romance Violet, the girl who wanted you to stay, who defended you, who (up until this point) likes you the most?

Or should you romance Louis, the guy who is pissed at you and A.J, who voted to kick you out, who demanded A.J give him the gun before you both left for the wilderness, and ignored you for a bit when you were back?

HELLO? In what WORLD are these routes equal?

Yes, Louis apologizes later, but by this point most people have a grudge against him and don't take it seriously. Or worse, they tell him to fuck off.

AND THEN to make matters WORSE, the big branching off decision is in THIS EPISODE. And, wow... Wow, this choice is literally one of the most biased choices I've ever seen in a decision-based game!!!!

You can either: check the defenses with Violet before the big fight, OR, play piano with Louis.

Before the big fight that will get people killed. You can either: CHECK THE DEFENSES WITH VIOLET OR PLAY PIANO WITH LOUIS.

PLAY PIANO? BEFORE A WAR?

WHAT?

Who in their ABSOLUTE RIGHT MIND would chose to play piano with Louis? Hell, I wouldn't choose to go with Louis and he's my favorite character in the game!!!! Once AGAIN, majority of people go with Violet (because it makes the most sense!!) and they lose the opportunity to learn more about Louis and bond with him. At this point, you're on Violet’s path -- whether it's platonic or romantic.

I know K*nt said the difference between Violet and Louis is "staying alive vs. feeling alive" but they went about it soooo completely wrong it BOGGLES my mind how they thought their routes were equal. I'd love to go more in depth on how I would've set their paths up, but this post is already super long and I'm rambling. Also, before I get any hate, I want everyone to know I DO NOT hate Violet. I do NOT hate Violentine. I think Vi is a great character, and if you like Violet and Clem over Clem and Louis, hey! That's awesome. I just personally believe the game is tilted towards her and wanted to share my frustrations.

tl;dr -- season 4 of twdg has terrible, biased choices in regards to Violet and Louis, the game is always pushing you to Violet and gives you no reason to choose Louis.

[deja-you]

foreign affairs | part three | d.c.

m. de lafayette x reader

summary: In 2020, Representative Y/n L/n is up for reelection. Lafayette, Y/n’s former best friend and current French socialite and playboy, decides this is the time to walk back into her life.

word count: 5.3k

author’s note: this is the last chapter of this series! it’s been so much fun writing this for you guys, hope you’ve enjoyed it. fair warning, this chapter/ending is pretty melancholic. 

trailer | previous

Although his grandmother had wanted him to be, Lafayette wasn’t Catholic.

Like any other Parisian, he might attend a special Christmas or Easter service, but he wouldn’t call himself a Catholic. His grandmother had always wanted him to be more devout in his faith. Since his father had died when he was young and his mother was a young woman just starting off her political career, his grandmother raised him for the most part. 

She was an organist and would play for different churches every weekend, never finding a church she liked well enough to stay very long. His grandmother had even taught Lafayette to play a few songs. At one point, she had bought Lafayette a crucifix on a chain to keep with him. 

It wasn’t one of those cool, sleek chains you would see people wearing proudly. It was a silver chain with dark beads on it, something you might see an old lady wearing. A silver chain with a tiny Jesus on a tiny cross. He had lost it almost immediately. 

Lafayette had always had a habit of misplacing items. In high school, he had conveniently lost his homework on multiple occasions. He was always losing just one half of a pair of socks. Could you imagine how stupid he looked walking around with one black sock and one white sock on? He couldn’t even remember how many times he had woken up hungover with no idea of where his wallet or keys were. 

The point is, Lafayette was a grown man who was used to losing things. Yet, no matter how many items he lost, he still wasn’t prepared to lose Y/n.

And yes, he knew it was all his fault. Everything seemed to be his fault these days. Lafayette wasn’t even denying that he had made another huge mistake. What kind of idiot sleeps with the secretary of the girl he was in love with? Seriously, why did I write such an idiot?

It had been eight years since Paris. After all this time, Lafayette was just as proficient at destroying his relationship with Y/n as he had been when they were younger. You would think that he would learn from his mistakes, or Y/n would have been able to forgive him, but no. Maybe they were young and stupid then, but they were still very much young and very much stupid. 

Lafayette had made a stupid decision. If it hadn’t been clear to him the night before, it was blatantly apparent to him the next morning while Sybil was getting dressed.

“Last night was a mistake.” He cringed at his words as soon as he said them. Last time he had woken up next to a girl and told her it was a mistake, it didn’t go so well. 

“Not in a bad way, I mean,” Lafayette quickly amended. “I am sorry, was that rude to say?”

Sybil gave him a look that he couldn’t quite read. “No, it’s alright. I agree with you.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “it was unprofessional, and by the looks of it, it didn’t help you get whoever she is off your mind.”

Lafayette rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking at the bed or the floor or the window or at anyone but her. “You are right. I just... Anyway, this can’t happen again.”

“No, never. It was a bad idea to begin with,” Sybil muttered.

There was a silence that fell between them, neither of them knowing what to say until Lafayette awkwardly said, “I’ll see you around, then.”

“Right, right. Are you going to Congresswoman L/n’s election night party?” It was more of a way to fill the silence than actual curiosity.

At the reminder of Y/n, Lafayette had to stop him self from outwardly groaning, but he couldn’t help but grimace. If things with her hadn’t been messed up before, they definitely would be now. 

“I should attend that, shouldn’t I? I’m just not sure Y/n will want me there.”

“You are a major donor,” Sybil pointed out. “It would make sense. If you and the Congresswoman don’t get along, why do you come around the office so often and make contributions?”

He didn’t even know how to respond to that, and his silence was telling. Suddenly everything clicked for Sybil. The frequent visits to Congresswoman L/n’s office. The disappointment on his face when she had told him Y/n specifically didn’t want to talk to him. The woman Sybil had asked him about last night. The way he called her by her first name.

“Oh no. The woman you’re in love with is Congresswoman L/n, isn’t it?” Sybil pieced it together. 

Lafayette’s mouth hung open silently, his eyes told her she was correct.

“I never would have kissed you if I had known. I never would have done a lot of things with you if I had known. My boss? Please tell me I’m wrong about this.”

“You’re not.”

She groaned. “And it was so obvious, wasn’t it?”

“It’s obvious?”

“Of course! How did I not realize until now? I don’t want to get in the middle of anything, I just didn’t know.” 

“You’re not getting in the middle of anything.” Lafayette shook his head. “I ruined any chance I had with Y/n long before last night. I really think she wants me out of her life this time. I should get on the next plane back to France, shouldn’t I?”

“Are you asking me, your one night stand, for advice?” Sybil said. “Not going to lie, this is a first for me. You’re going to miss the election night party if you leave.”

“Does it matter if I go to this event? Y/n doesn’t want to be with me, showing up to a party isn’t going to change that.”

“Look,” Sybil said firmly, “if you really love her, does it really matter if she wants to be with you or not? If you love her, you should want what’s best for her and her career, even if that means she still doesn’t want to be with you.”

He bit his cheek and thought her words over. “I get that, it’s just...”

“It’s your decision. Regardless of whatever happened between the two of you, she could use your support at the election party. Think about it, okay?”

John Adams was going to win the race, he had been ahead in the polls for weeks now. Thomas Jefferson had run an admirable campaign, well, as admirable as a campaign could be that outwardly trashed congress members in the media. Y/n never took his insults personally, even though she knew Jefferson wanted her to. 

Tonight she wasn’t going to let thoughts of Jefferson get her down, even though the news anchors on the television would continuously bring him up. Tonight was going to be a big win for the Democratic party. Jefferson was trailing Adams in electoral votes, and there were only a few states left to be accounted for. 

Y/n has spent most of the night talking with voters and showing off some of her bartending skills at the venue they had rented out for the election party. She was having a lively conversation with a single-mom when Lafayette walked in the door. Suddenly, it was like she had tunnel vision. Everyone else was dark and blurry, but everything about Lafayette seemed to be vibrant and in focus. 

Since the last time she had seen him, Y/n had been doing her best not to waste her time thinking about him. Not that it was an easy task to do, Lafayette had a way of being memorable. Still, Y/n had bigger things to focus on than an old flame. 

Now election night had finally rolled around. No politician was bothering Y/n because they were too focused on the presidential election or their own reelections. And at this time at night, the polls in Y/n’s district had closed. There was no more campaigning she could do at this moment, so she had nothing to distract her from her former best friend who was staring at her from the other side of the room. 

Saying a brief apology to the woman she was talking to, Y/n began weaving her way through the crowd until she was standing a foot a way from Lafayette. Her red lips formed a cordial smile, and to any onlooker, it looked like a kind greeting between two acquaintances. 

“I didn’t think you would show up,” Y/n said cooly.

He bit the inside of his cheek and tilted his head to the said ever so slightly. “I almost didn’t. I know things have been awkward between us lately, but I wanted to show my support for your success. No matter what happens between us, I’m always going to have your back Y/n.”

Her mouth parted slightly, a little surprised and touched by his response. When she didn’t respond, Lafayette quickly added on, “but I can always leave if you don’t want me here.”

“No, no.” She closed her mouth and shook her head. “No, stay. I want you to stay.”

A small smile began making its way across Lafayette’s features. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Nathan had appeared at Y/n’s shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Nathan said, adjusting his glasses. ���Good to see you could make it, Monsieur de Lafayette. You think I could borrow the Congresswoman for a moment?” He turned to face Y/n. “They’re about to call your election.”

“Of course, I’ll see you around, Lafayette.” She gave him another smile before Nathan ushered her to the front of the room where a local newscaster was announcing the results for her district.  

The room went quiet and the volume on the tv was turned up. The anchor smiled at the camera and announced, “...and it looks like Representative Y/n L/n has won her reelection campaign by a large margin. Horatio Gates trailed the congresswoman by...”

Y/n wouldn’t know how much she had beaten Horatio Gates by until the next moment. Everything after the anchor announced she had won reelection went unheard. An upbeat victory song had begun playing somewhere in the room, yelling and cheering warmed Y/n from her toes up to her head. Her mouth hung open for the longest time, and before she knew it, she was pulling the nearest person, Nathan, into a tight hug. 

At some point, reporters had swarmed the venue and Y/n began giving out answers to all the questions they threw at her. There were a lot of congratulations and thank yous going around, and Y/n nearly lost herself in all the wonderful chaos. There was more wonderful chaos when John Adams was announced the next president of the United States later that evening, but Y/n hadn’t even been given enough time to soak in her own victory. 

Don't follow men out to the street at 3 a.m.

The election party officially ended at midnight, but that didn't stop people from staying for a few more hours. At 3 a.m. there were maybe five people left at the party. Now that most people were gone Lafayette decided he would approach Y/n one last time.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure I congratulated you on your win again before I head back to France,” he said.

Y/n blinked. “You’re going home?”

“Early tomorrow morning.”

Y/n’s mouth hung open slightly, but she didn't say anything. Lafayette gave her a thin smile, a polite nod, and then headed out the door.

He had already exited the venue when Y/n processed what had happened. Not heeding my earlier warning, she followed Lafayette out onto the street at 3:00 a.m.

“So that's it, then, is it?” She called after him. “That’s the end?”

He turned around and raised an eyebrow. “The end of what?”

“The end of us. You're just going to leave?”

“Us? What do you want me to say, Y/n? That I regret what I did? That I'm sorry? Because I've already tried that.” He sounded exhausted. “You are just tormenting me now. Do you know how much this is hurting me?”

“You?” Y/n couldn't believe he was acting like the victim. “This is all on you. I can't count how many times you’ve hurt me

“What, you think I don't know that I messed up? You think I don’t regret the decisions I made every day?” Lafayette ran a hand through his hair. “Chèrie, I've used every kind of soap I have, and I still don't feel clean.”

The raw honesty in his words struck both of him deeply. A heavy silence settled between them. Eventually Lafayette reached into his pocket and pulled out two items. He desperately thrusted the objects into her open palm.

“I've been holding on to those for years. I don't want to keep them any longer.”

Y/n looked at the items he had given her. One was an old, worn ticket from a concert. The other item was a necklace. The one she had worn on their one shared night together. Y/n thought she had lost it and never expected to see it again.

“I dated lots of women when I was younger,” he admitted. “It never ended well. I've never been good at being sincere. Every relationship I've been in I ruined. You want to know why we never dated? Because I loved you. To the moon and back.”

“To the moon and back?” She repeated.

He nodded. “I loved you since I've known you. I couldn't let you be another girl I ruin things with. I guess everyone knew we were in love with each other except for us. Even Molly figured it out. That's why we broke up.

“Why didn't we ever tell each other?”

“We were just kids,” he suggested. “We spent all our time watching lovers in rom-coms tell each other what we were too afraid to tell ourselves.”

Y/n stared at the items she held in her hand. She let the ticket and the necklace fall from her hand onto the dark street below.

“This doesn't change anything.” She shook her head. “You walk in dreams. Dreams of what once was, what could have been, and what never will be. You hold onto the tangible things a ticket stub from our first concert, the necklace I lost years ago. You hold onto these objects because they make your dreams feel a little more real. Something you can touch or see, but in the end? It's all in your head.”

“What are you saying, Y/n?”

“Lafayette, I don’t doubt for a second that you loved me. Maybe you still love me. It’s just not enough to make up for all the ways we’ve hurt each other. I’m tired of being hurt, okay?” Y/n tugged at the sleeves of her coat, trying to find the words to tell him what needed to be said. “I’m finally happy and successful. I’m changing the world.”

“I knew you would. I always knew you would.”

In the next few months, Y/n would replay that evening again and again in her mind until it would drive her to the brink of madness.  “Out of sight, out of mind” was a proverb Y/n wouldn’t understand until four months after the election night, when the words Lafayette had spoken to her on the street seemed like an eternity ago. When a year passed, that night seemed almost like a figment of her imagination now. 

Besides, Y/n didn’t have a lot of time to think about events that had conspired over a year ago now. She had legislation to pass and funding to allocate. There was never a slow day in D.C. 

“Y/n, you saw what Fox News said about you this morning?” Nathan asked, setting down a cup of coffee.

More focused on the steaming cup of coffee that had been set down in front of her than anything Nathan had said, she gave him a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t know. Was it anything new?”

Nathan considered for a moment before shaking his head. “No, not really. They were just informing the public that you’re a radical leftist who wants to abolish ICE and free healthcare for all.”

Y/n scoffed. “They figured out I wan’t to keep families together and take care of the health of millions of American citizens? Oh no.”

“You’re not bothered by any of this?”

“Well, they’re not wrong? By all definitions, I am a radical leftist.” She shrugged and pulled the warm cup of coffee closer to her. “Besides, anyone who’s watching Fox News already has a biased opinion toward me. We’ve got bigger things to worry about, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nathan agreed. “For one thing, France announced its support for your foreign aid bill. If your bill gets passed, they pledged to match whatever amount we’re spending on foreign aid.”

This seemed to wake Y/n up in a way that her coffee just couldn’t. “Really? That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve lined an interview up for you and a French diplomat in an hour downtown. You ready to go?” 

Y/n sat up straight in her chair. “You really sprung this on me! Nathan, I haven’t had anytime to prep.”

He rolled his eyes and handed her a thick binder. “It’ll just be a few questions, mostly just to show the public a picture of you and a French official side by side. You can handle any questions, you wrote the damn bill. Besides, we can prep in the car.”

Y/n figured she had no points left to argue, likely Nathan’s intention. Begrudgingly, she followed Nathan out to the front of the building and they got into the backseat of the car. They began going back and forth, Nathan asking her questions on the foreign aid bill, and Y/n responding with well articulated answers.

“See? I told you you had nothing to worry about,” Nathan said in the elevator, finally closing the binder.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “That’s because I’m just magnificent and well-spoken.”

“Yes, yes you are. You’re going to kill this interview.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. They began walking over to a small hair and makeup set up, and Y/n froze when she saw who was already on set laughing with the interviewer. She turned on her heel and jabbed a finger into Nathan’s chest.

“You didn’t tell me Lafayette was the French diplomat!” She hissed.

Nathan’s mouth fell open in mock surprise. “Did I forget to mention that to you? How silly of me.”

“Nathan, I swear to God. I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I had known Lafayette would be here!”

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t tell you, huh?”

Y/n scowled at him. “I haven’t spoken to him in over a year, and last time we spoke, well...”

“I know you’re not on the best terms. Maybe this will help bury the hatchet.” Nathan suggested.

“Nathan, we need to can--”

“Oh dear, it seems I’m getting a call. I should really take this. I’ll see you back at the office, Y/n.” He motioned to his phone that was clearly not ringing and retreated back to the elevator. 

After quietly cursing Nathan under her breath, Y/n resigned to her fate and allowed for some intern to touch up her hair and makeup. When they were done, she was ushered onto set in a seat next to Lafayette and across from their interviewer, J.P. Martin. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Congresswoman L/n.” J.P. Martin said with a disarming grin. “I’m glad you could make it to this interview on such short notice.”

She forced a smile, “thank you for letting me discuss my foreign aid bill.”

Y/n could feel Lafayette’s lingering gaze on her skin, but she refused to take her eyes off the interviewer in front of her. J.P. Martin said something else flattering that Y/n didn’t take to heart, then someone on the crew began to count down, then they were rolling. 

“Today I’m joined with Representative Y/n L/n and Ambassador Lafayette to discuss L/n’s foreign aid bill,” J.P. looked straight into the camera with a wide grin. “Before we get into the details of all that, it’s my understanding that Representative L/n and Ambassador Lafayette have a history. Is this true?”

She froze in her chair. How had this interviewer find out what happened between her and Lafayette? Would this be a scandal she found in the newspaper the next morning? In all the time she had taken with Nathan to prep for this interview, she was already caught off guard by the first question.

“Yes, this is very true. Y/n and I go way back. We met when she was studying abroad in Paris and quickly became close friends,” Lafayette said. Y/n finally glanced over at him, and he gave her a reassuring smile. 

“Well how about that?” J.P. directed his next question at Y/n. “Was it intimidating being friends with President de La Rivière’s son?”

Y/n was feeling more relaxed now after the initial shock. “At first, yes. Of course it was. I’m pretty sure I tripped over my feet the first time I met President de La Rivière.”

“You didn’t!” J.P. said with an amused gasp.

Lafayette chuckled and nodded. “She did. I remember my mother asking me afterwards why I was friends with that awkward American.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” J.P. was positively beaming. 

“I think my mother understands now that Y/n is the youngest woman serving in the United States Congress,” Lafayette was subtlety pointing out Y/n’s accomplishments. “And speaking as her son and an official ambassador from France, I can confidently say President de La Rivière was impressed with Y/n’s foreign aid bill.”

“So impressed that the French government has promised to match the amount the U.S. is spending if the bill gets passed.” J.P. turned to face Y/n, his expression turning more serious. “Tell me, Congresswoman, why do we need to increase the amount of money we spend on foreign aid? We’re already spending 39.2 billion on foreign aid.”

Y/n smiled when he asked this. Really smiled. These were the kind of questions she had prepared to answer, and she knew she had Lafayette to thank for the topic change. “J.P., most Americans think 10% of government spending should be spent on foreign aid.”

“Yes, that seems reasonable,” J.P. nodded.

“39.2 billion might seem like a big number,” Y/n continued, “but that’s less than one percent of our federal budget.”

“Is that true?”

The rest of the interview went fairly well. Y/n had intelligent answers to each question J.P. asked, and Lafayette was there to assure J.P. that France was in full support of Y/n’s bill. Before she knew it, J.P. was saying they were out of time and thanking both her and Lafayette for coming to the interview. 

The crew began to disperse quickly once the interview had commenced. Now that the interview was over, the realization that Lafayette was standing beside her begun to sink in. She loved the idea of walking off the set and never seeing him again, but unfortunately, they were both headed in the direction of the singular elevator.

“I assume you’re going to the lobby as well?” Lafayette asked, pressing the down button on the elevator.

Y/n nodded. “I am.”

The elevator opened and Lafayette gestured for her to step in first before following behind her. They stood in silence for a moment. Y/n hated how slow this elevator was moving, a fact that she hadn’t noticed on the ride up. 

Finally, Y/n caved and she spoke to fill the silence. “I didn’t know you were back in the United States.”

He gave her a sideways look, doing his best to hide a smile. “I’m the French Ambassador to the United States now, Y/n. Did you really not know that?”

She clicked her head and shrugged. “I might’ve read it somewhere, I guess I just forgot. I’m a busy person.”

“Oh, I know.”

Y/n turned to face Lafayette and considered him for a moment. “I suppose you’re a busy person as well, now. How’d you get this gig, nepotism?”

Lafayette laughed and leaned against the wall of the elevator. “Believe it or not, I’m extremely qualified. I’ve served as a representative for France in the EU for a couple years, worked in the state department, long with other places.”

The elevator finally opened up to the lobby, but now Y/n wasn’t ready to end their conversation. “Huh. I guess I forgot that you’re actually a pretty intelligent person under all those layers.”

“Layers of what?” He asked with an amused grin.

“Layers of stupidity.” Y/n shrugged.

Lafayette chuckled and held the door open for her. “I guess that’s fair.”

“It’s more than fair,” Y/n sighed. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “So what is it that ambassadors actually do? I’ve always been curious.”

“A lot of ceremonial gifts and handshakes,” Lafayette admitted. “But very important handshakes. I met with President Adams last week, and I’m headed to meet with Washington at Mount Vernon now.”

“Sounds luxurious. Maybe I should’ve considered becoming an ambassador if it meant I get to spend time with President Washington.”

He paused. “Well, meeting with Washington is more for personal reasons than anything to do with being an ambassador.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/n raised an eyebrow. “I forgot you were best friends with every prominent American.”

“You’re not wrong,” he grinned. “Can’t help it that everyone loves me. Democrats and Republicans. I’m planning to have dinner with Jefferson next month. And I used to be best friends with the illustrious Representative Y/n L/n.”

His words were teasing, but he noticed when Y/n tensed when he said “used to be.” She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. Shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, Lafayette cleared his throat and asked, “What’s next for you?”

She considered him for a moment before responding earnestly. “The Oval Office, eventually.”

“Really?”

“Are you surprised?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not really. I always knew you were destined for great things, Y/n.”

“Did you, now?”

“Yes, in fact,” Lafayette reached into his pocket and took out a checkbook and a pen. “Let me be one of the first investors to your presidential campaign.”

He handed her the check he had just written. Y/n stared at the check she had been handed, still not entirely processing the extra zero written on the dotted line.

“Is this a joke?”

“No, it takes a lot of money to run for president.”

“I know that, but why would you…” She trailed off, then narrowed her eyes as a thought occurred to her. “This is just you trying to win me over by spending absurd amounts of time and money on things you don’t actually care about. I’ve seen this before.”

“You’ve seen what?”

“This exact scene.” Looking around seemed to solidify Y/n’s conception. They were standing on a sidewalk. Maybe Y/n and been young and naïve in the past, but now she knew how to recognize patterns. She recognized this one. How many times before had the pair of them ended up on a sidewalk together? And how had it ended for Y/n each time?

She counted five times now. The first was the day she had met him. It was Paris, and he had a completely disarming smile that made Y/n trust him immediately. 

The next time it was late, both of them were drunk, and they were laughing in the dark while they waited for a cab to drive by. 

The third time was in New York, ice cream cones in both of their hands and heartbreak on the agenda. That night she had remembered especially well. 

The fourth had been about a year ago now, and although she had tried to forget it, it had been burned into the back of her mind like a scar that would never heal. 

This would be the fifth time, and this time she knew better.

Each sidewalk rendezvous went the same way. Every time. And worse yet, they always ended the same.

“What is this scene?” Lafayette asked, genuinely confused.

“It starts innocent enough, doesn’t it? Just two friends on a sidewalk. But this is how it goes,” she laid out the scene for him. “You’ll reach into your pocket and pull out a cigarette. I’ll tell you how unhealthy it is, but you’ll smoke anyway. We’ll smile and laugh, until it gets to the point where we don’t want to be friends anymore. Then you’ll lean in and kiss me, or, at least, I’ll be wishing you’d kiss me.

Not such a bad scene, is it? Except every time it ends the same. You’ll wake up in someone else’s bed and break my heart. I’m just so tired of letting you do this to me! I’ve finally figured you out, and it’s not going to happen again. You’re my best friend, Lafayette, but I can’t keep letting you hurt me.”

When she had finished her rant, a quietness settled between the two of them. Lafayette watched her carefully, waiting to see if she had anything else to say, but it seemed that she had gotten everything off her chest now.

“That’s not what’s going to happen this time,” he finally said.

She looked into his eyes to figure out if she really believed him. Did she really want to believe him? “No? How can you be sure?”

“There are a few things in your “Lafayette breaks Y/n’s heart” equation that have changed. First of all, I stopped smoking a while ago,” he informed her.

Y/n was beyond surprised. For as long as she had known him, he had always been a smoker. It was part of his personality and was synonymous with his name. If there were two things that she was sure she could count on, it would be Lafayette smoking cigarettes and breaking her heart. Had he really quit?

“Second,” Lafayette continued on, “I’m not going to kiss you.”

“You’re not?” She almost sounded disappointed.

“Not this time. We learned our lesson, didn’t we?” He sighed, adjusted his jacket, and let his eyes fall to the cement at his feet. “You’ve ruined me. I’m never going to be able to love anyone the way I love you. And God, I love you so much.”

His heart felt heavy, like it was sinking further and further into his chest and he didn’t know if he would be able to find it again. There was a moment of silence to mourn something that had been lost. “You know I love you. You know that, right?”

Another certain truth. “Of course I do.”

“Good. I couldn’t live with myself if you didn’t know. I love you, and I can’t tell you how much I hate that that isn’t enough.”

She smiled. The kind of smile you give when you know that something lovely is coming to an end. Sometimes there is nothing you can do but smile.

His voice was tender when he spoke again. “No one ever told me that being in love would hurt this much. Am I a sadist for wanting to love you more?”

“No, darling, you’re just a romantic. That’s the worst we could be.”

Lafayette nodded because he couldn’t find it inside himself to smile. His town car showed up to take him to the airport at that moment. He bit the inside of his cheek, considering the different things he had enough time to say. Lafayette shook his head when he came to the decision that there was nothing left to say. He had already made it to the car and opened the door when he changed his mind.

“You know,” Y/n addressed Lafayette once more. “This might be crazy, but no matter what happened between us, I always thought it would be you and I in the end.”

Lafayette paused and pulled away from the car. He hesitated before making his way to Y/n. He gently held her chin between two fingers, looking her deep in her eyes as if he was searching for her soul.

“To the moon and back, remember?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then parted from her and got in the waiting car.

Not everyone gets the fairytale ending you see in movies. But they loved. Really loved. And that was enough.

Real love isn’t like the movies. No, it’s painful and warm and terribly strong. Mostly it’s good.