#I thought it was going to do the same job the old one could for a second there!!!

[enviedear]

HONEY DON'T FEED IT, IT WILL COME BACK

₊ ⊹ JASON TODD

in which working undercover alongside your ex-boyfriend feels like cruel and unusual punishment. like a feral hound—he keeps coming back into your life.

CW | ex!jason, petty old lovers, miscommunication (prior), reader riling him up, cursing, and somewhat ambigous ending (somewhat). 1.7k words. 🎧ྀི

you have to stop letting yourself get involved with JASON TODD. two years ago, fine. but now, you know better. or you should.

working with him is entirely different than being with him—or that’s what you tell yourself. at least vigilantism allows you to ignore his jeers to focus on dodging attacks, rush ahead of him when he tries to bring up the past, or turn off your comms if he grates on you too much.

unfortunately, you can't pull any of your normal tactics this time. not for this job.

you thought the undercover gig selina offered you was a 'one night only' sort of thing, not an entire week. Your mind could never have conjured spending seven painfully awkward days in a honeymoon suite playing blushing newlyweds with your somehow everpresent ex-boyfriend. either way, your current situation is aggravating beyond whatever you're getting paid for this.

besides his usual mouthing off and brooding, jason's been tolerable. like a bad dog gone old, not sweet—but just tired enough not to bite. you’re so unused to jason being docile, it almost aches. and maybe that's why you've been so...unruly.

unruly enough to snag yourself a date while undercover. you knew it was stupid before you did it, but said yes the minute your eyes latched onto jason's. it was the most of a rise you'd be able to get out of him the entire job. it had felt vindicated in the moment. but you played an idiotic hand, his cards trumping yours. for split second he reacted, but just as quickly as it had appeared—it vanished.

he was good at keeping his calm in public, when he had to. but he always boiled over eventually. always saved for private places and so intense. he can’t help it, you think, being so much. he has to let it out, like a poison.

his composure faded for that split second when you both entered back into the suite, voice low, snide, and angry—all to fizzle out with a huff. "go on your stupid fuckin' date. ruin the whole mission. i don't care."

he had said it so nonchalantly. as if merely speaking to you was utterly beneath him. such a reaction was new. in the year you dated him, and the two years that have followed, you've known jason to get mad. you expect it. you can always count on being able to push his buttons just enough. hell, he could count on doing the exact same to you. but the silence that followed his words, the calm way he sauntered off into the bathroom—that completely destroyed whatever game you'd built up in your head.

you got ready in spite of his strange behavior. did your hair, pulled out one of your prettiest dresses, and dabbed on a perfume he had bought you, still half full and primarily only used for special occasions. you left the room with a slam of the door.

the date was terrible to say the very least. he was loud and with a penchant to only discuss himself or his sports betting. you left before you could get your entrée, making up an excuse and promising to definitely reschedule. too embarrassed to return so soon, you took your time getting back to the hotel. three stops and one impulse purchase of a street hotdog later, you stepped back into your honeymoon suite. a cruel fate.

jason's in the bed, propped up with fluffy white pillows and ignoring you, reading an absolutely tattered hardcover. you neglect to break the silence, opting to take your makeup off in the bathroom. your waterproof mascara peels on your lashes, and you can only take so many seconds of scrubbing before you give up.

you pace around the room a bit, lost in thought as you remove your jewelry. you feel undeniably silly for risking your cover for a vengeful and shitty date. selfishly, you still blame jason for it. maybe if he hadn't whispered, "don't mess this up, act like you like me. people are watching." at a couple's excursion, or on a group hike after you laughed at one of his jokes and he muttered, "not too much, it's not real."

he was always on edge and he took everything so personally. the last two years have been a constant competition with him. a brutal tug of war that neither of you can seem to win. where he goes low, you're ready to go lower.

you're broken out of your trance by a firm grip on your wrist, followed by jason's gruff voice, "stop putting your shit on my side."

you look at him baffled, "it's just earrings. sorry i didn't want to crawl all over you to put them on my nightstand."

"save us both alot of trouble if you just didn't wear 'em." he mutters, grip loosing on your wrist. his eyes don’t leave yours, and there's an eerie firmness in his stare.

you yank yourself away fully and glare down at him, "i wasn't aware my existence bothered you so much."

jason rolls his celadon colored irises, "existing doesn’t bother me. you messing with everything does."

there's a beat of silence. you’re not sure what to say back. there's a dissonance now—and it's too quiet. it feels wrong. you wait for the sardonic retort, the simmering anger under the surface. instead, he sits back relaxed, casually tossing his book aside.

"you went on that date to get under my skin, didn’t you?" his brows narrow and his voice is rough, but there's no fire behind it, just resignation.

"does it matter?" you fire back, crossing your arms over your chest. "you said you didn’t care, remember?"

"yeah, well, i lied." he admits, his eyes finally meeting yours fully, the weight of his words lingering in the space between you.

you stand frozen for a moment, caught off guard by the confession. you’re so used to his biting remarks, the endless back-and-forth. this is new—too straightforward, too honest.

“you lied?” you repeat with an inflection, unsure whether to believe him or not. this could easily be another one of his plays, another way to draw you in and then shove you back out again. the cycle.

he huffs, running a hand through his messy hair before sitting up straighter, hands falling to his thighs. “yeah, i lied. big shocker, huh?” there’s a hint of sarcasm, but it’s mostly exasperation. he’s tired, as if he's finally had enough of the game.

you don’t know exactly what to say. so many little fights, all the times you both pushed and pulled, trying to get a reaction out of each other—it all feels hollow now. the tension’s still there, but it’s shifted, less sharp, and more fragile.

“why?” the earnest question slips out before you can stop it. you don’t know if you’re asking about his lie or why he’s admitting it now, but you ask regardless. too nervous to try and make yourself more clear.

his eyes flick up to meet yours, and for once, there’s no mask, literal or physical. just jason. your jason.

“because i do care,” he mutters, almost begrudgingly, like the words are the most difficult thing he's ever faced. “i always fuckin’ care, and that’s the problem, isn’t it? you think i don’t give a damn, but i do. too much, probably.”

jason never talks like this—had never. never let down his walls in this way. perviously the most you got was a huff and a murmured "i'm heading out".

like he’s cracked open a door that’s been locked for years, you’re both standing on opposite sides, unsure of whether to step through or slam it shut.

“then why do you act like this?” you ask, voice softer but still confused. “why do you make everything so hard?”

his lips press into a thin line, and he exhales sharply. “because it’s easier to be pissed off at you than admit how much i miss you. how much i hate seeing you with someone else, even if he's a fuckin' loser.”

“jason—” you start, unsure of what to truly say. a mixture of slight annoyance and reverence sit in your chest, your mind spinning to find the right words, “do you mean this? or are you jealous? because i’m not going to start this up again just for you to push me away when it starts getting serious.”

his eyes narrow, despite himself, “see? much easier when i’m just pissed off at you.” he shakes his head, sighing, “of course i fuckin’ mean it. i don’t lie to you. never have, sweetheart.”

you're still staring him down, the last of your resolve fading out, "you're serious?"

he tilts his head back, eyes closing, "for once, yeah."

you move to sit beside him on the bed, watching your legs bounce instead of replying. jason sits up straighter, and you can see him staring down at you from your peripheral. he's fiddling with his thumbs, a trait you associate with him muddling over his thoughts. probably contemplating exactly what you are: where to go from here?

his fingers brush against yours and he clears his throat, "i don't expect anything. hell—you don't have to want anything to do with me after this." he pulls his hand away from yours slightly, "i'm an ass. i've been angry for... well, a long time. but mostly at myself, for fucking it up with you. and i wanted to tell you."

you take his hand in yours, not missing the way he freezes up at first. still shocked by your comfort. you take a breath before you look up at him, "thank you," you start with what's easiest. "i like it when you care, when you tell me."

he hums, staring down at your interlocked hands.

"i've missed you too, jason. it's no fun pretending i don't." you keep your tone gentle.

a second follows, and then the dam breaks. jason leans into you, resting his head against your shoulder. such a simple gesture, but so unlike jason todd. there's nothing inherently romantic about it, and it's not desperate or solemn—merely human. human vulnerability so rarely displayed willingly.

you don't pull away. you could, and you know you could. but no part of you wants to. you're perfectly fine to sit like this forever. it soothes you in a way you weren't aware you needed soothing.

there's no fight left in either of you, at least none for each other. there's no kissing and making up, no loud voices and slammed doors—nothing like how it once was. just a sincere conversation and baby steps, but in truth, it's the closest you've come to reconciliation in years. and it feels good, healthy—saccharine.

you don't make any promises, nothing set in stone, but you stay like that for a long time. soaking in each other's presence. and when sleep becomes unavoidable, it's jason's arms you ease into.

[guytransformedforever]

Office competition

You were sitting in a stuffy office in a conference room surrounded by a dozen of your colleagues and a boring boss. An unremarkable Tuesday. Your thoughts were flying far away throughout the meeting. You flipped through the tape on your phone while your boss showed graphs of departments that did not concern you, talked about profitability and costs. Your gaze fell on the window, the boss's projector, on the table, the enthusiastic face of Jake Strey. This guy is weird, always trying to stand out in front of the boss and earn his trust. And now he literally catches his every word and agrees with stupid exclamations.

"So colleagues. The meeting is coming to an end. And I would like to thank Mr. Graves separately. He worked for the benefit of our company for 40 years and is retiring. On behalf of the whole company, I wish him a wonderful holiday." The conference room burst into applause and the old, plump Mr. Graves was handed a large box with a present.

"Nevertheless," the boss continued, "now the position of the head of the department will be vacant. I will hire someone who will do the best job this month." At this point, you had to strain yourself, because the boss's gaze was also directed in your direction. You didn't mind the promotion, but the extra workload didn't appeal to you, although if it's guaranteed to give you a raise, why not. You were also surprised by the expression on Jake's face: genuine discontent and jealousy – that's what was read in the eyes of this thin guy.

Well… The next 2 weeks were difficult. Overtime and heavy workloads. Recycling didn't do you any good. You lived on coffee and stress. One Friday evening, you were sitting late at night finishing a project again when you heard a modest "cough-cough". You thought all your colleagues had already left. Looking up, you saw Jake holding 2 cups of coffee.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I'm working late here too today. I thought coffee would be good for both of us." You thanked Jake and took the coffee. The fragrance was amazing. With strange notes. Lavender? Hibiscus? "Of course I see you as a competitor for the position, but you still need to help your colleagues," Jake's words were soothing, but his expression was distant and slightly scared. The guy nodded and retreated to his desk.

Without giving it any importance, you went back to work. The coffee was delicious and you didn't even notice how you drained the cup. Jake was giving you sidelong glances at the time. A few minutes later, you felt a strange burning sensation in your chest, your stomach rumbled and then suddenly: "Buuurrrppp" a terrible belch left your mouth. You've never done this before. Did your body react strangely to the coffee? That's nonsense. The burning sensation did not go away, you felt yourself getting hot. Your limbs are weak, and your vision is slightly blurred... you leaned on the back of the chair and unbuttoned your tie. What the hell? You saw Jake's figure approaching you.

"Damn, I didn't think it would work so fast. Haha, but what did I expect? The mysterious potions of change from the black market do not contain complete instructions," you heard Jake's voice.

What was in that coffee? Did that bastard poison you? You tried to focus your eyes, reach for your phone, but your body wouldn't listen to you. The stomach rumbled again, but this time the intestines also moved in unison with it. You made 2 sounds at the same time. "BUUUUURRPPRUU", "PPFPFPFTTTPPPPFFFFF" - echoed through the office. You were terribly embarrassed by it.… The smell was terrible. "Haha damn.. The seller did not cheat. This elixir has been accurately described as a suitable combination for stink and stupidity." What the hell is Jake talking about? What kind of potion?

Suddenly, the fever increased, and you felt terrible pain and burning all over your body. Through the haze of vision, you could see your shirt stretching against the swelling muscles. You felt your body getting heavier and more massive. The office chair creaked under the pressure of your body. You could feel your feet starting to stretch, ripping off your office shoes. You could feel the sweat running down your huge feet, soaking into your socks, which immediately became wet... the smell of sweat from the locker room hit your nose. Then you felt your calves and shins swell and literally tore the bottom of your trousers in half. They were straining, and you could feel the muscles playing under your skin. Then the hips and buttocks. They expanded with terrifying rapidity. The seat of the chair became cramped and soaked in sweat from your buttocks in a second. Then your bulge. You felt your average penis begin to lengthen down your thigh, reaching 10 inches, and your balls became almost twice the size. At the same moment, your whole body was shaken by the amount of hormones... you were instantly aroused, soaking the front of your underpants and trousers. Your breathing became faster and with each breath your entire torso grew larger. The pectoral muscles, back and arms tore the shirt to shreds. The musky smell has intensified, coming from your now hairy armpits. Finally, the burning sensation along the ascending path reached your face and head. You felt the facial features begin to move, the bones break in order to fuse at other angles. The ears were enlarged, and the nose was rearranged inside. You felt how it became more difficult to breathe through your nose due to changes in the bones of your nose and involuntarily opened your mouth, giving your new face a slightly stupid look. Meanwhile, the fog in your field of vision has cleared, but the problem has become different. The fog in your brain has intensified. You felt your thoughts running away from you. It was getting harder to think. You saw the table on the laptop screen, but it was almost impossible to concentrate on it… The words in my head were not built into long sentences and thoughts, and strange ideas arose. You suddenly felt the urge to drink beer, lift weights in the gym and have sex in the locker room – this thought revived your penis again. The final chord was again a terrible belch.

"Bro.... Fuck.. Uh. What the hell did you do to me?" - you heard your new voice, which was very different from the rudeness and notes of the stupidity of the athlete. You jumped out of your chair and ran to the office window in your underpants to look at yourself. In the reflection, a frankly stereotypical dumb jock was looking at you. You saw Jake's grinning face in the background.

"Well.. now it will be obvious to the boss who should take the place of the head of the department. Am I obedient and smart, or are you stupid and clumsy. See you tomorrow, asshole," and Jake stormed out of the office with his things.

To be continued…

This story was written as part of a story-sharing game for Ykuri73

[ghouldtime]

Ghost'ed

Been thinking about literal Ghost! Ghost. Maybe it's playing too many ghost hunting games or watching too many shows but I cannot stop thinking about it. You also cannot convince me this man wouldn't be a restless spirit. His entire life is troubled and I don't see him going down in a peaceful way or leaving until he feels the job is done - and likely ending up trapped as a result

I wrote this at work so sorry in advance for any typos or slip ups!

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Ghost hunting wasn’t exactly what most people would list in "Top ten relaxing hobbies" - but it's not like you were most people. You were simply you. The same you who thought spending your time speculating about spooky specters was one of the best ways to pass by those few stretches of free time that could be all too fleeting in the hellscape known as adulthood.

The stares that followed you when you announced paranormal investigation as a hobby was something you knew all too well. After all, telling someone you’re a ghost hunter only stood as a slightly more socially acceptable version of telling them you believed in bigfoot (you did, but that’s beside the point). The dozens of cheesy TV shows certainly popularized it but they did little to help with the perception of it.

When the face of popular ghost hunting media was full of grown men who screamed like a squirrel high on helium at every little thump of a house settling, it did little to help what people automatically thought of when they heard of your unique hobby. Plenty still turned their noses up, scoffed slightly as they rolled their eyes and sneered, “Aren’t you too old to be doing that?” 

Or worse. They gave a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and crinkled their eyes as they said, "Oh, interesting." While the tension in their body told of holding back laughter or wanting to bolt right on out of there, far far away from you.

Quite frankly, you didn't care what they said anymore as it was your life to live, not theirs. You’d seen enough to know without a fraction of a doubt that there was more beyond the veil of life itself, hiding just out of sight. The hundreds of hours you spent wandering dark hallways and dilapidated ruins with nothing but your flashlight and ghost box proved otherwise. At least it proved it to you.

Proving it to others was a horse of another color. Skeptics who spit their criticism loud enough to deafen even the most positive prevalent of voices in the community were a dime a dozen. Unfortunately, their existence was as certain as the sky is blue. Skepticism was apart of human nature, after all. They would always exist as long as the day and night kept up their eternal dance.

Convincing them was a fruitless effort. You'd sooner be able to convince hippos to fly than you'd convince them of the truth you knew. Trying to get everyone to agree, to acknowledge the paranormal, was hopeless and something you certainly weren't going to waste your life on no matter what they called your or what they said.

As far as you were concerned, being paid to sit in the dark alone and find evidence of life beyond the grimy waters of death itself was a pretty sweet gig. The naysayers could seethe in their own jealousy all they wanted because at the end of the day, you’re getting paid to do what you love. That they never could take away from you.

They'd never be able to have the same thrill that you did as you took on another case, ready to see even more of what the phantasmal realm had to offer.

Anticipation, nervousness, and excitement rolled together in a palpable energy you hid beneath a calmer exterior every time you took a job. There always would be that wonder there, the question of what exactly you might find dangling just out of reach, the hope that maybe, just maybe you might see even more than you already have. Another chance to investigate meant yet another night spent lurking in the shadows, tirelessly trying to find more evidence of the great world beyond the grave and its inhabitants. Tonight certainly would be no different.

An older couple quite reluctantly booked an appointment for a standard investigation after mysterious things that they really could not explain, no matter how they went about it, happened time and time again. They'd tried to ignore it, they said, but it only got worse.

Footsteps that echoed through the house at first in a gentle patter had become confident strides. When they went to look, no one was there. Doors that used to slowly creak open, as if blown by the wind, instead started to rattle the frame with force as they opened or slammed in the middle of the night. The husband looked particularly miffed when he groused about the TV going on at odd hours of the night, while his wife seemed more concerned about the possibility of someone having broken in and the fact that it kept doubling in intensity as time went on. The list went on and on about their complaints ranging from things being moved around to always finding a light turned on in a room in the middle of the night. There most certainly was something going on if all of what they were saying was true.

The glaring parade of red flags that easily would send others running for the hills lured you in. Like a dog with a scent, you weren't going to drop the trail, oh no. You were there to sink your teeth and claws in and not let go. Come hell, heaven, or high water - nothing would stopping you.

True to your title, you were a paranormal investigator which warranted a lot more work and professionalism than the standard ghost hunters you saw on TV who couldn't tell the difference between a gust of wind and a ghost. Your job was to research, conduct a proper paranormal investigation, and provide your evidence - or lack of, if it was truly devoid of haunting. But here hardly sounded like it.

Taking your time and reassuring them that you were, indeed, a professional, you went over all the usual questions with them: when did this start, how old is your house, any history of deaths in it, have you acquired any new items recently, do you have any items that were second hand or antique, any family heirlooms in the house, was it in any particular location, etc etc.

Every angle had to be considered, especially the mundane. Plenty of times, people just had a poorly constructed house, deeply held superstitions, and a touch of paranoia to make for a perfect combination of nothing happening at all. That didn’t seem to be the case here, however. While none of their answers pointed in a clear direction of what it might be, it still all pointed to signs of something unworldly happening. But that's what you were there for. To determine if there actually was a ghost, why it was there, and maybe who it was (if things went well and it felt like cooperating). 

You bid them a good night as they headed off with family friends in a beat up convertible, chattering away without a care in the world as if they didn’t have a paranormal parasite problem. At least they were going to go enjoy their night by having an evening out instead of breathing down your neck like some of those who hired you. Locking the door, you trudged in with your gear and began the initial inspection with practiced ease.

A haunting in a house as young and modern as theirs was quite unusual. Open, airy rooms completed with white, sleek, almost eye-hurtingly clean interiors made up the entirety of the house. Even as night crawled higher and higher into the sky, pulling its dark cloak over the land, the house stayed bright. Nothing about it said haunted or caught your eye. The scariest thing there was likely the heating bill. 

As far as your research showed, there hadn't been a death in it or on the land. The owners also seemed quite appalled at the idea of antiques (go figure) so that went right out the window, too. Normally there might be some stashed somewhere that they weren't thinking about, like the attic, but this house didn’t even have that. No basement, no attic, no creepy graveyard in the back; it was a normal, suburban house that shouldn’t have anything going on.

Perusing the house at a leisurely pace, you browsed each and every room with a thorough consciousness of finding something, anything, that could possibly have started it. Yet you turned up empty handed. Everything was as pure and alabaster as the marble countertops and the expensive sleek metal furniture. 

Oh well, not every job would be easy. And not every haunted house was obligated to look run-down and rustic. Some ghosts just had more upper class tastes - or were unfortunate enough to be stuck in an eyesore like this. Maybe a ghost would add some actual personality to their home...

Seeing as they'd said there wasn't exactly a rhyme or reason as to where things would happen, you decided a central room was your best bet. The living room was open enough for everything and an easy place any spirits could find. It had plenty of room for your equipment and the open layout meant you had a great vantage point for the whole house.

Preparing your gear came as naturally as breathing to you, the tasks you've done dozens of times over were a matter of habit. Moving through the motions was your second nature as you worked, not batting an eye as you checked batteries and strategically stationed your gear. It only took a matter of minutes to have your cameras, light system, motion activated interactable objects, ghost box, and the rest of your fancy gadgets set up all around the room.

Placed on the coffee table was your heaviest piece of equipment - your modified spirit box that you had made some special adjustments to just to make sure your results were as accurate as possible. The broken antenna and attached amp weren't standard, nor were the noise reducers, but they stood as a testament to why you were a professional and why you kept getting called out to different places. You knew how to get results and tuned every tiny thing to your needs. There was no room for error or doubt alike in an already uncertain field.

Double checking everything was ready to go once more once more, you plunged the room into somewhat true darkness as you drew the curtains shut and pressed the button on the spirit box, causing it to crackle to life. Speeding through the static of radio stations, it scanned the many frequencies in a blur, far too fast for any natural noise to come through. The whirring of it evened out into a constant, muffled background noise that you’d spent countless hours listening to. Its familiar hum lulled you into a relaxed state, your heart as steady as your calm breaths despite the slight buzz of familiar adrenaline you always felt when you first started. A small beep signaled the successful activation of the digital thermometer as you walked around in a slow, even pace, checking all around. 

Taking a deep breath, you began as you always had. In a confident, but even tone you called out, “Is there anyone with me right now?”

....

........

Silence.

The static of the spirit box continued to filter through in its usual constant churning hum of white noise. Typical. Many supernatural beings wouldn't want to interact, especially not at first. You don't blame them. If a stranger barged into your house and demanded if you were there, pestering you with questions as threw their belongings around, you'd not want to answer them either. That wasn’t even considering that many were so unused to people hearing them or trying to talk to them, not at them. They didn't exactly register on the same frequency that humans did most of the time.

Walking around the room, your boots echoed on the tile flooring. Your footsteps ricocheted off of the high ceilings, amplified by the lofty ceiling and wonderful acoustics this house apparently had. Keeping your attention ever shifting, you kept alert for signs of anything happening. Looking too long in the dark and expecting things to happen would only yield false results and cause paranoia. You knew far better than to do that. 

Nothing lit up, nothing beeped, nothing changed. There was conclusively nothing happening for the first few, long minutes as everything kept at an unwavering constant. Visiting each room, you rechecked their temperatures and tried to find anything amiss or out of place. Yet all seemed well, still, and normal.

Only when you crossed the hallway back into the living room after a quick visit to the bedrooms did your hair stand on end. A chill ran down your spine, the once warm air now holding the barest bite of cold on the edge. Holding up the thermometer, you narrowed your eyes at the steady decrease. While it wasn't quite freezing, it kept dropping and dropping. Numbers ticked lower and lower, your hair stood further on end as a small shiver ran through you as the chill dipped lower and lower. Bingo. First sign of activity of the night. It wasn’t much but it was plenty to know that something was happening here.

Despite the crisp chill, nothing else shifted in the room. Silence prevailed behind the distant drone of your equipment; mainly the comforting, steady typical static of the spirit box. Even the appliances seemed to have gone quiet, exchanging their usual low thrumming rhythm for a break that suspended them in a noiseless limbo.

Your shifting movements echoed far louder than you would have liked as you paced around the room, looking for something new, anything. An actual tangible reaction you could record would be just what you needed but so far, the haunt was holding out.  “What is your name?” You asked, keeping your voice as steady as you can as you tried to switch it up. 

Continual feedback from the spirit box sounded as steady as can be. Still, there was no voice trying to get through it. The fabricated noise reigned supreme as it did its job, whirring away. Pressing your lips into a thin line, the smallest hint of a frown tugged at your lips as disappointment flickered through you. Okay, that's fine. It usually took a few tries anyways. 

A faint, sparkling crackle escaped from it as you heard one, tiny word in a rumbling timbre. One, single word that halted you mid step, your head snapping towards the machine. 

“Ghost.”

Doing a double take, a grin split across your face as your heart jumped with joy. A response! A true, actual response. Not that it exactly answered your question but it meant something was listening.

There was something here!

Nearly tripping over your own feet, you scampered over to your beloved machine. Your eyes fixated on the glowing orange screen, gleaming with glee. 

“W-what’s your name?” You repeat a bit louder unable to hide the excited tremble in your voice or hands, figuring the ghost likely didn't hear you right. 

Static white noise continued for a few seconds, the little x in the corner flashed once, twice, before it lit up solidly. 

“Ghost.”

The smile you held dropped only for a fraction of a second before you cleared your throat. Well, maybe your slight stutter and excitement got in the way. You did talk fast when excited, after all. Taking a deep breath, undeterred as can be, you repeated in a far steadier voice, “What is your name?”

This time you made sure to enunciate every single syllable, speaking clear and confidently into the air. 

One flashing X glowed in the corner of the screen. Another flash. A third. Fourth. Fifth.

Yet again, the deep voice came a bit louder and rougher this time. A thick Mancunian accent that barely picked up through the filter didn't dull the single word you were trying to avoid, “Ghost.”

Okay. Your brows furrowed deeper, your nose wrinkling slightly as your heart sank. The minor disappointment couldn't be kept off of your face as you really had hoped to hear something else. Approach one clearly isn't working. 

Maybe he didn't speak English. Or maybe he wasn't sure that he was dead. Whatever. There was a ghost and he was answering, that's what mattered, you reminded yourself forcefully until the smile came back to your face and the smallest bit of a headache dissipated. Focus on that. Not on the slight annoyance you felt and the agitated twitch of your fingers.

Exhaling, you pursed your lips. Your grip retightened on your flashlight as you racked through questions in your mind, trying to find something that it would have to answer differently too. 

“Can you do something?”

Hopeful, your eyes trailed around the room, praying that maybe the ghost would do something like interact with the many objects scattered about, or even the motion sensors. 

Nothing happened for a few long moments, silence once again prevailing in the otherwise empty house.

Orange light flashed from the spirit box as the X lit up again, only for a second before the dreaded word repeated itself. 

“Ghost.”

Before you could ask what that even meant, or curse it out for that matter, the spirit box and your flashlight shut off, plunging you into true darkness. The flashlight nearly flew from your hands in surprise as you flinched instinctually, your heart leaping into your throat. Frantically flickering the button of your trusty tool did nothing as you desperately tried to turn on your one source of light with the only way you knew how - only to be met with the continual sight of empty, non-shining bulbs. 

Curses spilled from your lips in all the languages you knew as you fumbled for a battery pack, only to find them missing. What? But you swore that they were right there -- ugh, nevermind. This just wasn't going to be your night.

The initial panic subsided as the chill left the air, the residual regular warmth of the house sinking into the room as if blown in by a lazy breeze. Your hair still stood on end as you walked around with cautious, hesitant steps, having given up on the flashlight. There wasn't coming back from that.

It's only when you approached the spirit box, trying to turn it on to no avail, that you realized what he meant. You asked him to do something and he obliged.

He ghosted you. 

God fucking damn it. 

As you glared at the air in frustration, threw your hands up and personally cursed the fiend, you could've sworn you heard a resonating chuckle behind you as breath brushed against the nape of your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine for a whole new reason.

[mymoodwriting]

Royal Blood

Female!Reader x Alpha!Seonghwa

Genre: A/B/O, Royalty

Warning: Isolation, Illness, Medication, Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Anxiety, Social Anxiety, Tears, Thoughts of Death, Thoughts of Suicide, Loneliness, ABO Dynamics, Suppressants, Scent Blockers

Words: 5.3K

Chapter One

(//Next) (@starillusion13)

Prompt: You were a princess in name alone. Unable to perform any of the duties that come with the title. It seemed to be your destiny to live a quiet life. That is until you met someone who refused to see you silenced. Perhaps your fate was wrong all along.

A/N: A new story for Ateez! Please show it lots of love!

“It’s morning, Princess. Time to wake up.”

A gentle sigh escaped your lips as you slowly opened your eyes. You could vaguely make out the sounds of birds chirping outside your window, a soothing little melody to help you welcome the new day. You sat up and did a bit of stretching, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked around your room, the only few things that you could call your own. It was the same old stuff from before, nothing ever changed for you. A moment later you were up on your feet, one of your two court ladies helping you dress while the other tidied your room. Your breakfast was served and you ate until you felt full. Then came your medicine. It had a horrendous taste, but was necessary for your health. After drinking that you were left alone.

Most of your life had been confined to this room. The only exception was your evening walk and the family gatherings held in the King’s quarters. Two court ladies waited on you, as well as an eunuch, but they spent most of the day running errands around the palace unless you called on them. In all honesty you rarely called on any of your servants. Besides their basic duties of escorting you around the palace, bringing you your meals, and preparing you for the day, there wasn’t much else they did. Being part of your entourage was probably the easiest job in the palace. For the most part you also dismissed your ladies in the morning, and they only returned to fulfill their daily tasks.

You lived a very solitary life ever since you were old enough to be left alone. It wasn’t entirely by choice, but you understood why you had to stay in your quarters. You were born ill, and it wasn’t something you could recover from. You took medicine daily to maintain what little of your health you had, and you stayed hidden from everyone else for that same reason. You had taken up many things to fill your days. You knew how to embroider, to paint, but unfortunately you could never take up music or dance. It was better to be quiet and not do anything that could cause you injury. Or in better terms, you shouldn’t do anything that could draw attention to yourself. Everyone knew the royal family was ashamed of you, and for the most part you shared in those sentiments. The rumors around the palace were always the same.

“It’s hard to believe the Princess is of royal blood. Everyone would believe she’s illegitimate if not for the fact she’s the Crown Prince’s twin. I suppose since the Crown Prince is so strong and perfect, his twin must be the embodiment of all his weaknesses.”

The royal family has always been known to be strong, every offspring, and every in-law. Any sort of weakness in the royal family was unheard of, so your birth was seen as a bad omen. You were still of royal blood, so they weren’t going to outright kill you. Instead they chose to keep your existence hidden. Not many outside the palace knew a Princess existed, and even some inside had no idea either. As far as they knew, you were just the daughter of some high ranking official, and you weren’t around long enough for them to realize otherwise. Sometimes you wondered why you even bothered to stay alive. 

You weren’t exactly in a mood to do anything this morning, so you sat next to your window and looked out at your little garden. You did well to look after your plants, growing flowers and a few vegetables, but they weren’t for you to eat. With your garden so full of color and variety it welcomed other creatures to stop by and keep you company. You got to provide food for butterflies and bees, as well as birds and bunnies. It was nice to watch them come to your garden, but also bittersweet. They lived freely, coming and going as they pleased. You longed for something like that, but the chains that kept you in place ran through your blood.

After lunch you went on your walk. You didn’t go so far from your quarters, so it was a simple stroll through the royal garden, and a little walk around the palace. You walked the same path everyday, and as always kept to yourself. Occasionally you’d get a few glances your way, and heard some whispering about you, but no one ever approached you. They were either busy, or knew better than to engage with you. Not that you’d respond, you didn’t want to socialize with others either. That’s why it was important to walk with some sense of purpose, even if it was just to get back to your quarters. That way you appeared busy, which was another reason for someone not to bother you. At least that’s what usually worked.

“Hello, my lady.”

A gentleman suddenly stepped in front of you, blocking your path. He smiled kindly and offered you a bow. By the style of his clothes, you could tell he was a lord, but certainly not a familiar one. Since he was speaking to you, he was probably new to the palace and had no idea who you were.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The lord reached for your hand, but you took a quick step back. In the process you lost your footing and fell to the ground. He asked if you were alright, and attempted to help you to your feet, but you only scrambled back. Tears stung your eyes as you knew your mother would hear about this whole embarrassment of a situation and scold you for it. On top of that you just felt so pathetic.

“Lord Park!”

One of the guards came over and pulled the other away from you. The lord looked confused, but he was pushed back as the guard stepped forward and bowed.

“Apologies, your Highness.”

“Highness?”

“Lord Park is new to the palace and I am to escort him to his father. He escaped from my sight for a moment. Please forgive me for my failures. It won’t happen again.”

You didn’t respond verbally, but when the guard looked up you nodded to him. He bowed once more before grabbing the lord and taking him elsewhere. You took a moment to steady your breath before attempting to get up. It wasn’t exactly easy given that you were already nervous, so you asked your ladies to help you up. Once you were back on your feet your ladies dusted you off before you continued on your way. You asked them to help you with a change of clothes, knowing what was coming next.

“Your Highness, your presence is requested at the King’s quarters.”

“The King…”

Your nerves went up tenfold when your eunuch came to deliver the news, although you weren’t sure to be afraid or glad. The King never requested your presence, so this was a first. You made sure you were presentable and made your way over. Your arrival was announced and once you stepped inside you realized the real reason for your presence. The King hadn’t requested you, this was just an impromptu meeting of the royal family. Any positive feelings you had about the situation subsided and you bowed before taking your seat next to the Queen. 

Across from you the Crown Prince sat, and he smiled at you when you arrived. You offered him a smile back, but merely kept your head down and remained quiet. A conversation had been going on before you arrived, and you only interrupted for a moment. Your presence didn’t change anything, so the others continued speaking as before. One of the court ladies served you some tea, but you weren’t entirely in a mood. These little gatherings never really involved you, so it was certainly pointless to invite you. Although you were a member of the royal family so your physical presence was required.

“Mother, I’ve told you, it’s too early to speak of marriage.” The Crown Prince said. “I have yet to begin my studies to inherit the throne.”

“All the more reason. You need a Crown Princess to help you begin your duties as King.”

“Father hasn’t even spoken of abdicating the throne. And even then, my marriage is not a condition to be King.”

“There are plenty of young and beautiful ladies to choose from.” The King mentioned. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to start looking at your options.”

“Father!”

The room erupted into laughter, and you merely smiled to yourself for a moment. Talks of the Crown Prince’s marriage had been going around for a while now. The Queen brought it up any chance she got, especially during these gatherings. Today seemed to mark the day the King finally joined in on that topic of conversation.

“You bring up a good point my son. I do believe it is time for you to begin the most important studies for the throne.”

“And your Crown Princess can study her duties as the future Queen and your wife.” The Queen added. “It’d be wonderful.”

Even though you felt invisible, and were mostly unwanted, there was still a part of you that wanted recognition. Or at least some sort of acknowledgement.

“Congratulations on your ascension and engagement, Crown Prince. The entire nation will be overjoyed by the news. I promise to do my best with my duties as a Princess to assist you.”

“Nothing’s official.” The Crown Prince spoke with a shy smile. “Simply speaking of it here doesn’t put anything in motion.”

“Nonsense.” The Queen stated. “I will send out a message in the morning to begin your search for a wife.”

“Mother!”

“Let the boy begin his studies and focus on the throne first.” The King interrupted. “A King serves the nation before anyone else. We can talk of marriage once he understands what the throne truly means.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Let us meet tonight in the Crown Prince’s library. I have something to give you.”

“Of course, Father.”

The rest of the meeting continued on as it usually did. Despite speaking, no one cared for what you said, and you knew it was foolish to speak to begin with. You were the first to excuse yourself, leaving them to speak more freely, but to your surprise a moment later the Queen stepped out, coming over to speak with you. For a second there you thought you had escaped, but nothing got past the Queen.

“You made a fool of yourself today.” 

“…”

“Your duties as a Princess?” The Queen scoffed. “You are a Princess in name alone. You are not capable of fulfilling any duties the title actually comes with. Do not expect to assist the Crown Prince with anything regarding his ascension to the throne, or marriage.”

“I understand…”

“Do you? Or did you already forget about your earlier embarrassment? You can’t even act like a proper lady in front of a lord.”

“I… I’m sorry… I-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Is it really that difficult not to draw attention to yourself?”

“Apologies, your Majesty. I won’t cause a scene again.”

You bowed to the Queen as she went on her way, not moving until she and everyone from her entourage were out of sight. You took a deep breath to hold back your tears and then retreated to your quarters. Your court ladies were about to begin undressing you when the Crown Prince arrived. You welcomed him into your quarters, taking your proper seat and keeping your head low.

“What brings you by, Crown Prince?”

“You know I hate when you talk to me like that, y/n. It’s just us here, the least you can do is drop the titles.”

You slowly lifted your gaze, seeing the childish smile on your brother’s face. You couldn’t help but mimic it.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Yunho. You don’t usually visit me after family gatherings, you and the King tend to talk for a while longer.”

“He wants to talk to me later, so I thought I’d bless you with my presence now.”

You chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Anything for my precious baby sister.”

“I’m like a minute younger than you.”

“Which means I’m a minute older, and that makes you my little sister.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it.” Yunho giggled. “So, tell me about your day. I heard you ran into a lord. How was that?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Come on, tell me, was he handsome? Or perhaps cute? Did he stutter talking to you?”

“Stop it.”

“I wanna know.”

“Well, I fell to the ground and couldn’t speak a word. One of the guards apologized to me and pulled him away. It was just embarrassing.” 

“Ouch. That doesn’t mean he won’t try again.”

“As if. He surely knows all about me now and knows to stay away. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to find someone and marry anytime soon.”

“Why not?”

“You haven’t even gotten married yet. There’s no way I’d marry before you. The Queen would never allow it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You do too. So don’t play coy.”

“Alright. Let’s change the subject then. How are you doing lately? Any interesting updates?”

“Doesn’t my physician tell you everything about my health?”

“What? Yeosang, would never tell me such things.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I would like to hear from you. How have you been feeling?”

“Nothing’s changed, Yunho. My condition is the same. No claws, no fangs, my eyes don’t even change color.”

“I’m certain they’ll come in any day now.”

“That’s unlikely. In my state, I’m just lucky to be alive.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s true. I’m not strong like you, not at all. You’re all grown up and ready to take on the throne, whereas I… I can’t be away from my quarters for too long.”

“You’re gonna get better. Yeosang tells me medicine is always advancing and-”

“I’d just like to live long enough to see you ascend the throne and marry. That would be enough for me.”

“Nonsense. You’ll live far longer than that. You have to be around to meet your future nephews and nieces.”

“We’ll see.”

“It is getting late, so I’ll let you get to bed. Good night.”

“Good night, Yunho.”

As far as you knew the only person who cared about you in the palace was your twin brother, Yunho. From an early age he was separated from you, he was the Crown Prince after all. Yet he made an effort to see you and play with you. He never said anything to your face, but you had heard the rumors all before. Everyone had been telling him not to engage with you, fearing he’d grow ill as well. Of course that’s not how your illness worked, but he didn’t seem to care either way. He was also told that he didn’t have to see you, it wouldn’t make him any less of a King if he did, but to him you were his sister and he wanted to be with you. Even though he sees you less nowadays, he still makes time for you and he treats you as his sister, and nothing less.

Of course all of that was made more complicated considering pack dynamics. The Crown Prince was an alpha, as was the King and Queen. It always had to be that way. Although despite the royal family being predominantly alphas, there were a few betas here and there, like yourself. For the most part the betas were just as strong and powerful, but clearly you were an outlier. As for everyone else who served the royal family, or the nation, they were either an alpha or beta since omegas were forbidden from entering the palace. They were the weakest of all, and could certainly cause problems, so in order to maintain peace and safety, they were not allowed. 

There were other means of keeping balance as well. Everyone wore a necklace to help suppress their scent, the royal family included, and the same went for any guests. That way no one would be distracted by anothers’ pheromones. Furthermore, when necessary one would be excused from their duties to deal with heat and rut cycles. That is if they chose not to take suppressants. The palace was well organized so there was rarely any sort of problem in regards to one’s own instincts. It honestly seemed redundant for you to wear a necklace to suppress your own scent since it was already so weak, even the suppressants seemed unnecessary, but everyone had to comply with the rules in order to maintain peace.

“How are we doing today, Princess?”

At least once a week a royal physician comes to check on you. Over the years you had gotten friendly with them, now speaking on a first name basis.

“I’m the same, Yeosang. Nothing has changed, nothing ever changes with me.”

“One must always have hope. I believe you’ll get better some day.”

“Well that day cannot come fast enough.” You sighed. “Don’t give Yunho false hope about my condition.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you report to him about my condition. Don’t tell him I’m getting better or improving when I’m not. He’s gonna start preparing to ascend the throne. He shouldn’t worry about trivial things like my health.”

“Princess.”

“Look after him. That’s the best thing you can do for me.”

“I understand.”

♦♦♥♦♦

Yunho always did his best to fulfill every title he carried. He was the Crown Prince, heir to the throne and future King of this nation. High expectations had been placed upon his shoulders since birth, and he didn’t intend to let anyone down. He was also a son with the desire to make his parents proud, and part of that was making a life of his own. Yunho understood who he was, he knew that marrying for love wasn’t exactly a luxury he had. Still, he could make the most of what he could control. Although he couldn’t forget the other title bestowed upon him. That of an older brother.

It always displeased him to be told he didn’t need to care for his little sister. He understood she was ill, and that others were looking after her, but he couldn’t just ignore them. Even if everyone else did. At the end of the day he loved his sister and wanted to see her find happiness. Lately he hadn’t been able to see her often, and he knew with the abdication of the throne coming up, and potential marriage, he’d see even less of her. He missed his sister at times, missed the days when they were still kids and could play together. Although right now he had great expectations to meet. Perhaps once he became King and was married, when things settled down, he could see her more often. For now he needed to focus on his studies.

The night the King wished to speak with him, Yunho was rather nervous. This was the true beginning of him taking on the throne, and he didn’t want to disappoint anyone. After visiting his sister that evening he made his way to the Crown Prince’s library. There were still so many books he had yet to read, so he was curious what his father wanted to tell him. He waited patiently, reading quietly when the King finally arrived. Since it was just the two of them, and this was more about a father and his son, things were a little more relaxed. At first they made a bit of small talk, but tonight was about bigger things.

“I’m very proud of the man you are becoming.” Yunho’s father spoke. “And I do believe it is time you prepare to take my place.”

“You still have many more years on the throne, father.”

“Perhaps, but I do want you to learn more about our family, and the responsibilities you will come to bear.” 

“I understand.”

“Good.”

Yunho watched as his father made his way towards the back of the library. He figured he would recommend a book, but instead he opened a secret passageway, revealing a hidden room in the library. Yunho’s eyes went wide and he followed his father into the new space. More books lined the walls, and a desk was in the center. He could tell many had passed through here before, all the kings before him, and those after him would learn of this place too.

“Woah…”

“This is the Crown Prince’s secret library. These books contain knowledge of our ancestors and our bloodline. Some of this information is unknown to the historians.”

“Unknown?”

“You will come to understand why.”

The King stepped over to the desk, grabbing the book that had been left on it. He looked it over for a moment before handing it to his son.

“Yunho… things are going to change for you from this moment on. I cannot tell you if they will be for better or for worse, as that is something you must decide for yourself.” 

“Father…” Yunho stared down at the book in his hands. “I’m…”

“I do not expect you to begin your studies right away. So you may take some time to prepare, but the next steps are upon you. As always you may come to me for guidance.”

“Thank you, Father.”

The King left Yunho in his library, and the boy had much to contemplate. He looked around the hidden room, very curious about the knowledge they pertained. He’d be lying to himself if his father’s words didn’t frighten him, but becoming a king was no easy task. The night was still young, and his own curiosities would not let him rest. Yunho sat down with the book he had been given, wanting to learn more about his family history and the legacy he would uphold.

♦♦♥♦♦

It was easy to get bored when the days were always the same. Although you had gotten used to the uneventful nature of your life. Despite what your court ladies would suggest, you decided to sleep in today. Perhaps your dreams would be more interesting. Unfortunately they weren’t either, but at least sleep helped pass the time. You prepared for your evening walk, rather eager to see the garden. Around this time many of the flowers were blooming, adding to the beauty of the area. You were rather jealous of those flowers. Even if they stayed in one place, at least they didn’t remain the same. They grew and bloomed, changing their colors and shape, beautiful at every point in their lives.

“Princess.”

Hearing your title out in the open was always jarring. You ignored it though, not wanting to presume anyone was talking to you. There was a chance a foreign princess was in the palace, and you were never privy to such knowledge.

“Your highness, please.”

Someone stepped before you, forcing you to stop in your path. They were bowing to you, which was always a strange sight. You wondered who this was until they raised their head. It was the lord from before, Lord Park.

“Apologies for my sudden presence, I wanted to speak with you about our first encounter.”

“…”

“I wanted to properly apologize for my behavior. It was very rude in hindsight, and I suppose what I’m doing right now is as well, but I also want to properly introduce myself. I’m Park Seonghwa, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You took a careful half-step back. The last time Lord Park had spoken to you things ended badly. You understood his intentions, but you had no idea what his end goal was here. Although you were aware of the outfit he wore.

“I’m new to the palace, but I still felt it necessary to meet you. I’ll be working under my father, Minister Park, and look forward to crossing paths again.”

You recognized the name Park when you first heard it, but you weren’t sure if there was a relation. That is until now. The Park family has served the royal Jeong family for generations. Minister Park was the King’s most loyal and trusted advisor, as well as a close friend. The relationship between the two families has always been good, and has served the nation well. You knew the minister had a son that had been sent away to study and learn of the world. Now that son had returned as a man, and would continue to learn and grow under their father. At least now it made sense why Lord Park was making such efforts with you. It was best for him to have good relationships with the royal family, and that included the forsaken princess.

As eager as he sounded, you knew he’d soon learn the truth about your situation. There was no need to engage. That would surely also leave the right impression for him to learn from. You were hidden away for a reason, and things should remain that way. So you said nothing and walked past Lord Park, wanting to return to your quarters and mentally prepare for an unexpected visit from the Queen. Nothing got past her. You could hear the lord still calling to you, probably dumbfounded by your lack of a response, but that wasn’t your concern. Not to mention a moment later you heard someone speaking to Lord Park, scolding him over his interaction with you. Things had to be this way.

At least that’s what you always told yourself. Or perhaps that’s what was always told to you. Either way you accepted it. Once you returned to your quarters you laid down. You really appreciated Lord Park’s intentions earlier, feeling like an actual person, but it was all pointless. It was best to forget about him and move on. Hopefully he’d do the same, or at least get the message your silence invoked. You had your dinner and skimmed through one of your old books, thinking to request something new from the Crown Prince the next time he came by. That reminded you that it would probably be a while before you saw him again. He surely had already begun his studies for the throne, and that would be his top priority.

“The Queen is here.”

You felt yourself grow cold when you heard those words, only stunned for a moment before you got up and greeted the Queen. You already knew what was coming, or perhaps you underestimated your situation. As soon as you raised your head you were met with a slap across the face. You felt the burning throb on your cheek, but you did not move to cradle your injury.

“Is it so difficult to follow a simple command?”

“Apologies, your Majesty.” You bowed. “It was not my intention to cause trouble. The lord approached me on my walk and-”

“Don’t give me excuses. If a simple walk is the issue then just stay in your quarters.”

“What…?” You slowly lifted your head. “What do you me-”

“You have your own little garden here. Since it’s so difficult to not draw attention to yourself you shall remain in your quarters at all times unless you are called upon. Do I make myself clear?”

“Your Majesty-” Your words were met with another slap. “… yes… your Majesty, I understand.”

“The last thing I need is you causing issues when the Crown Prince is preparing for the throne and marriage.”

“Apologies, your Majesty.” You bowed once again. “I won’t be a burden anymore.”

“You still are.”

The Queen left and you remained in your position. It wasn’t until one of your court ladies came to check on you that you finally let yourself collapse. Silent tears had been dripping to the floor, and you soon joined them. With a crack in your voice you dismissed your lady, wanting to be alone. Tears continued to stream down your face, but you didn’t make a sound. You had learned to quietly cry long ago. Your throat burned and ached as you cried for yourself, having no on there for you, no one on your side. As the tears continued to flow you eventually exhausted yourself, passing out on the floor. You woke a while later, well into the night, when you heard some commotion just outside your quarters. You had no idea what it was, nor did you care.

The world outside your quarters was so full of life, even at night, but it wasn’t a world you were meant to partake in. It was very late, and you weren’t going to bother any of your court ladies at this hour. You removed your garments, tossing them off to the side and setting out your blanket and pillow. You were still exhausted from the tears, but you knew you wouldn’t have any pleasant dreams. A part of you hoped you wouldn’t see the sunrise, but that was out of your hands. All you could do was close your eyes and see what the universe had planned for you.

♦♦♥♦♦

“Your Highness, please, it’s the middle of the night, can’t this wait til morning?”

“No. Where is the King?”

“At this hour the King would be in his throne room reviewing petitions. You know he requests that no one bother him during that time.”

“He’ll make an exception.”

Yunho didn’t care for the hour, or the words of his servant. This could not wait. There was only one person in the palace who could stop him in his tracks, and he knew exactly where they were. The King’s servants tried to question why Yunho was there at such a late hour but he ignored them all and stepped into the throne room.

“Your Highness-”

“Leave us.”

None of the servants moved, everyone looking towards the King for a command. Yunho stared down his father, making it clear he had no intention of leaving. After a moment the King noticed the book Yunho held and then ordered everyone to leave and keep a distance. Once the doors shut Yunho stalked up to the throne and slammed the book down on the table.

“You’ve known, this whole time, haven’t you!?”

The King remained calm. “I presume this is about our lineage?”

“Does mother know?”

“She is unaware of the situation.”

“How could you do this!? All these years she-”

“This is necessary.”

“How!? How could you possibly think-”

“The choice I have made was not made lightly.” The King stood. “What I have done is for your own sake.”

“My sake? How is it for my sake?”

“You would not be king otherwise.”

“What?”

“You come here angry and frustrated but you have yet to think of the consequences. That is something I pondered over for a long time. The way things are now guarantees peace. If you disrupt that, you could end up dead.”

“Father…”

“I am the King. The day the throne is yours you may do as you wish, but for now you do as I say. You have a lot to think about but I trust you won’t do anything rash. Am I clear?”

“… yes… your Majesty.”

Yunho took the book back, storming out of the room. His servants had been waiting outside the building, quick to follow him once he appeared.

“Your Highness, please tell me you didn’t do anything to upset the King?”

Yunho didn’t answer, too many things still going through his head. Although he did suddenly come to a stop. Yunho’s gaze turned towards the entrance to his sister’s quarters, unsure of how to feel.

“The Princess is likely asleep at this hour…”

“I know.” Yunho kept walking. “I’m turning in for the night.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

[imissnanami]

T.T. | Ch. 1 | Back to Hogwarts

Teacher! Teacher! | m.list

S. Snape x F!Reader x R. Lupin | past S. Black x Reader 

Reader is in the same year as them, use of Y/N, takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban. Contains swearing & angst. In which you become the new part time Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. You’d never thought you’d be back in these halls, and with Lupin and Snape to boot. Not to mention Sirius Black is on the loose. Great. Enjoy! :)

Ch. 1 Back to Hogwarts

White knuckling the handlebar of the trolley, Y/N pushed it through the bustling Kings Cross station. Why was she, an adult witch, pushing a trolley full of her belongings like a student? Well, because apparition was kind of like driving. She could do it, well at that, but it was also kind of scary and honestly the rules around apparition and Hogwarts still kind of confused her. 

Oh, that and the fact that she’s been living as a muggle since her graduation. Between the deaths of her friends and the incompetent nuisance that the ministry of magic is, taking a step back was the only thing that kept her sane. At least, thats what she’s been telling herself. 

Forcing the wonky wheels of the trolley to roll straight, she sent a dirty look to the group of tourists that blocked the path. Continuing to march through the crowds, she bee-lines to the wall between platforms 9 and 10. Taking a quick look around, she picks up her pace and runs into the wall- or through it, to be more accurate. 

Billowing steam and the familiar crimson of the Hogwart’s Express met her as she slowed her pace and moved to the side. Platform 9 and 3/4. It wasn’t nearly as busy as she remembers, mainly because her childhood trips to Kings Cross took place exactly three minutes before the train departed. In fact, there were maybe a handful of people meandering about. Realizing there was no point in just standing there, she approached the first train car’s door. After one of the trolley men helped magic her bags into the cargo hold, she thanked him and shuffled into the Professors cart. Unsurprisingly, it was empty. 

Plopping herself down on the harder-than-she-remebered benches, Y/N drops her tote bag and pulls out her pseudo Hogwarts letter. Looking over Professor McGonagall’s neat writing, she thinks back. 

⁂

When Harry Potter, the boy who lived, first resurfaced in the wizarding world, Y/N had expected a lot of things to change. The ministry would overreact. Hogwarts would have a very special student. It would giver her a headache. The likes. What she did not expect, was a mere two years later, for a one Professor McGonagall to send her an owl in the middle of spring. 

Dear Y/N L/N 

I think you and I would both prefer if I skipped the pleasantries with what I’m about to proposition.

‘Well that sounds promising’ Y/N thought to herself, already having a sinking feeling of where this was going. Yes, she wasn’t part of the wizarding world anymore, but that didn’t mean she lived under a rock.

As you’ve been away since graduation, I’m unsure how caught up you are with the current news and events. 

Sighing Y/N closed her eyes and flipped the letter over. Of course she knew. How could she not know one of her ex-best-friends-turned-alledged-criminal was supposedly on the loose. When she had first found out Sirius escaped Azkaban, her initial thought was ‘Good job Siri,’ before going back to her writing. Glaring at the back of the paper, she crossed her arms as if that would do something. Heaving another dramatic sigh, Y/N picks up the letter and begins to read it again. 

Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban. (Duh) The Ministry has contacted us as a courtesy and informed us they will be passing the order for the detainment of Y/N L/N: for previous collusion with the dangerous criminal, Sirius Black. 

“Alleged collusion, you old fart,” Y/N mumbled sourly, the minister’s dumb face popping into her head. 

Knowing this would not go over...smoothly with you, Albus had managed to offer an alternative. With everything going on this year I’ll have my attention split between aiding Albus and teaching the students. 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry herby offers Y/N L/N the position of Assistant Transfiguration Professor. 

That way we can guarantee your whereabouts-

Not bothering to read any more of the letter, Y/N heaved yet another sigh, much bigger than the last. She felt that she’s been sighing an abnormal amount today. Reading the last few sentences again, she rolled her eyes. Be detained in a magic cell. Or be watched 24/7 at Hogwarts? What a choice. 

“Like I have a fucking choice.” Y/N said flatly to the empty room, before getting up and grabbing a pen and paper. 

⁂

Which, after much stress and doing more magic in 4 months than she’s done in the past 10 years, it brought us to now. Zoning back in, Y/N realized the platform was much busier. Students greeted one another excitedly and parents said tearful goodbyes. If she had looked a little closer, she’d have caught a hauntingly familiar head of messy black curls.

Pressing her face into the glass, she spied the clock on the platform, 10:50. Finally. Deciding get some sleep in preparation for the inevitable stress that this year will bring, Y/N, using her bag as a pillow stretched out and closed her eyes. 

⁂

“So cold.” Y/N mumbled, cracking an eye open.

She then noticed two things. One, that the train was stopped. And two, that it was completely dark. 

Her brain having finally caught up, Y/N sat up rubbing her arms, much more alert. Grabbing a cloak from her tote bag, she stood. Something was clearly wrong. Other than there not being another professor in the cart – McGonagall has said that there would be – they were no where near Scotland. 

Clutching her cloak tighter she made her way to the door. Carefully sliding it open she peaked out, seeing that the students were doing the same, some of them even standing in the corridor. Wondering if someone was going to do something about the situation she smacked her face. 

“Me, I’m the fucking adult” She whispered to herself. Groaning Y/N stepped out before immediately doubling back. Her wand. Having not had it on her person for the past decade was really biting her in the ass right now. 

With her wand in her hand and her cloak secured, she stepped out. Making her way through the students, some of them parted while others looked at her in confusion. She stopped by a group blocking the hallway. A small crowd of students were pressed up around the windows excitedly talking. 

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked. No one answered or even looked in her direction. Gathering her courage, and her elbows, she simply pushed through the crowd. 

“What’s everyone looking at?” She asked much louder this time, her breath fogging up in the air. 

Finally getting their attention, a young boy pointed to the glass

“The windows are all frosting up Miss.” 

Sure enough frost was crawling up the glass, and even into the cabin. Feeling dread pit in her stomach Y/N bolted out of the cabin before pushing into the next one. Frost. And the cabin across from that one. Frosty too. Well shit. 

Cold temperatures, frost, and a feeling of dread. Dementors. 

“Stay in the cabin and don’t open the door for anyone” Y/N instructed, before exiting and closing the door behind her. As she made her way down the train cars, she pushed students into rooms and locked the doors. The dread and fear getting stronger as she moved further back towards the end. She curses as she walks, she could have sworn McGonagall had said they’d be at the school, not on the fucking train. 

At least the dementor was stopping her from remembering that she was approaching the cart her and the marauders shared going to Hogwarts. Well damn, I guess not. Huffing a mirthless laugh she shoved a particularly stubborn 7th year into his cabin. A sudden piercing scream cut through the air. Y/N felt as if she was gonna suffocate. As her teeth started to chatter, and she felt fear grip her ribcage, she pushed forwards. 

Y/N reached for the door, separating this cart and the next. Her hand began to freeze to the metal handle the second it made contact. Yanking it back she wrapped her cloak around her fingers before pulling hard, the screaming child kept her body moving. With a final yank, the ice that sealed the door broke. Rushing to the sound of the scream, her feet carried her to the open door. Her brain snuggled to process what she was seeing.

The dementor was sucking the soul of a screaming child. And the screaming child was, ...James? 

Before Y/N could properly react, a strong pale blue light burst froth. A silver wolf barrelled into the chest of the dementor, driving it out. Ducking out of their way, Y/N clung to the door as the wolf pushed the dementor back and out of the train. 

Sat flat on her ass, Y/N was staring at the place the wolf ran off to. That was a patronus. A corporeal wolf patronus. Y/N only knew one person who had a wolf as a patronus. But it couldn’t be. It shouldn't be.

“-ssor? Professor?” Feeling like her world had momentarily stopped Y/N looked dazedly up at the girl calling to her. Two sets of concerned eyes stared at her. A ginger boy and a girl with frizzy brown hair. Quickly remembering the screaming boy, Y/N scrambled to her knees frantically scanning the cabin, for James. 

“Ja-” his name caught in her throat the moment she actually saw the boy. Once the dementor had left, the power had flickered back on. Now illuminated by the warm cabin light, Y/N saw that it was not in fact James, but a tiny James with Lily’s eyes. Feeling her eyes well up she quickly looked away, blinking rapidly. 

“Professor? Are you alright?” The girl's calm voice called to you again. Before quieter and directed to your right;

“Do you think she needs some chocolate too, Professor Lupin?”

Professor Lupin? Professor. Lupin?

Slowly standing and keeping her head down, Y/N could feel herself shaking. This had to be a joke. 

She held her breath as she looked to the 4th person in the cabin. The one she’s conveniently ignored this entire time. The one who cast the patronous. 

Her eyes took in the man hunched in on himself. He was wearing an old, tattered suit. His knees brought up to his chest as he sat on the ground. His scuffed briefcase lay beside him along with a half eaten bar of chocolate. He wrung his hands, before stopping and fiddling with his fingers, picking at his skin – a habit he hadn't seemed to have outgrown. 

Shyly looking up at her, Remus looked almost guilty for being there. 

Y/N’s breath caught before a lump quickly replaced it. She took in his face. A large scar ran down his left cheek. That's new. Smaller ones littered his face, where the skin was previously unmarred. Barely there wrinkles on his face were deeper now, more pronounced. Though she remembers him having a few grey hairs, there were many more now. Not yet salt and pepper, but far from brown. Though he looked older, the same kind green eyes stared back at her. 

Nervously bringing his hand up in a half-wave, Remus offered a tentative;

“Hi Y/N,”

Though she’d have loved to be more eloquent, the only thing that Y/N was able to get out was a curt nod before turning tail and running back to her cabin.

⁂

next

tag list | @unconventional-lawnchair

[cakerybakery]

I’m getting ads on tumblr for a love spell to bring an ex back (which is weird alone and no thank you) but…

-

“So this spell will do what exactly? Make Eve go crazy for me again?” Adam asked, poking around the magic shop shelves as he waited for the demon behind the counter to mix together the ingredients for his purchase.

She paused. “It’ll bring you back your lost love. Make them see the future they could have with you if you were together. Help them fall in love with you again.”

Adam picked up brimstone skull, looked at the price tag, and quickly, and gently, put it back. “Yikes. And then we’ll bone. Nice.”

Maybe hell wasn’t so bad if he got Eve back. She left him centuries ago then got together with fucking Michael. Adam couldn’t believe both his ex-wives left him then immediately started fucking what was basically the same guy.

Fuck, man. Lucifer even fucked Eve after she left him. Then set her up with Michael! What the fuck was up with that? It’s like he didn’t want Adam to have Lilith or Eve but couldn’t keep Eve and handed her off to an inferior Lucifer as sloppy seconds.

Well, jokes on them. Lucifer and Michael were both eating out his sloppy seconds. Now he was going to steal Eve from Michael. Make the bitch want him again. He was going to cum in that cunt and then send her packing. Maybe he’d do the same to Lilith.

A thought sparked in his brain. ‘Or maybe I’ll string them both along. Get them both in my bed at the same time. Then dump them both.’

Yeah. He liked the idea of Lilith and Eve fighting to please his cock and then dumping them both and ruining both their relationships with the tiny twins.

Lucifer’s sad now? Adam would break that bitch.

His potion was done. Two drops in an eye dropper.

“You only need one.” The demon warned. “The second is just if you drop the first. Throw the whole thing into lava to get rid of the second drop. Drip the drop onto your wrist and they won’t be able to resist the visions. It only works on past love. So do keep that in mind. And no refunds, sweetie.”

Adam handed her the credit card he swiped from Lucifer that morning and left the shop.

He made his way slowly and windingly back to the hotel. Using Lucifer’s card to pick up some other shit that caught his fancy. When he got back he slipped it into Lucifer’s pocket easily.

Later he would overhear Lucifer mentioning finding it there to Charlie after searching the whole hotel for his credit card.

It took a couple of weeks but he managed to get Eve and Lilith to separately agree to meet with him at the same time.

He dressed as nicely as he could in his least ripped jeans and cleanest shirt, only worn twice since it was last washed, styled his hair up, and cleaned up his facial hair a bit.

Dabbing the first drop on his wrist, then the second to be sure. If one worked then two should work extra well, was Adam’s logic.

Now to snag the old goat’s card again. He’d treat the chicks to some salad or whatever bitches liked if they did a good job taking care of his cock.

It was easy enough to palm Lucifer’s wallet. He was trusting as an angel. Or perhaps he just thought no one would have the balls to steal from him. Adam got a couple feet with Lucifer’s credit card before his arm was grabbed.

“Adaaam!” Lucifer sang out. “How lovely to see you!”

He was pulled into a hug. Lucifer’s head resting on Adam’s gut and his hands -!

Adam squeaked as they squeezed his ass cheeks. Kneading them.

“HEY! Fuck, man! Get off me!” Adam shouted as he tried to shove Lucifer away.

Lucifer just giggled and grabbed harder. “I ever tell you, you’re pretty when you’re angry?”

“If you don’t let go of my ass,” he hissed, “I’m about to be the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.”

“You already are, sweetheart.” Lucifer smiled up at him.

Adam’s heart skipped a beat and he froze. ‘What the fuck was that??’

Lucifer was giving him these big innocent eyes as his hands were spreading Adam’s cheeks. “Let me take you out, Adam. Anything you want. Then after I’ll do to you what I should have done in Eden.” His tongue licked his bottom lip before he bit it.

A picture was being painted in Adam’s mind. Those hands, that mouth, the hard dick pressed against his thighs.

Eden.

Lucifer had loved him once, apparently. The love potion was working. Working a little too well. Was this why he was only supposed to use one drop?

“Oh fuck me.” He muttered. Realizing too late that Lucifer heard him.

He went ridged against Adam. Lucifer’s smile grew until he was beaming. Adam couldn’t even get out an explanation that he wasn’t asking for Lucifer to fuck him, before he was hoisted onto Lucifer’s shoulder and the devil sprinted off like a madman.

It was hard to tell Lucifer to stop when his tongue was in Adam’s mouth.

He was only moaning a little.

Adam tried to protest the tearing of the front of his shirt but Lucifer stuck his face between Adam’s soft pecs, straight into the thick chest hair and motorboated him, not hearing a word Adam said.

“No means no.” Didn’t get past N! As Lucifer choked down his cock.

It rather quickly turned into an, “OH GOD! YES!” As Lucifer deep throated him suddenly.

Lucifer pulled off long enough to asks if Adam was ready for more. Adam very quickly agreed to more. He didn’t really notice what more was due to that talented throat until Lucifer was already in him.

Of course, Adam ran into that pesky problem again where when he tried telling Lucifer no, all that came out was an enthusiastic, “YES!” Or “MORE!”

This disconnect between his brain’s thoughts and his mouth’s words was very concerning for Adam, in the morning. Cause right then, even his brain was telling him they’d figure out how to get Lucifer to stop after the next orgasm.

He was very late for his dates. In fact, he never made it at all. Hell’s light was rising by the time Lucifer curled up next to him, completely spent.

Lucifer latched onto his side, a tail wrapped around Adam’s thigh, and now that the pleasure was wearing off, fuck he was pretty sore. But god, what a night. He hadn’t fucked like that since Earth! When fucking was new and they didn’t have kids.

Lucifer drew hearts on Adam’s chest with his finger and purred. “How was that, baby?”

“Good.” Was all his raw throat could squeak out. It was sore from all the screaming in pleasure.

“Hmm, excellent. I love you.”

“Yeah… about that.”

Adam limped back to his room. Lucifer had some words to say about Adam using a love potion to try and get Lilith and Eve in the sack. He had a lot of laughter when Adam told him what exactly the demon said about the potion and went, “never mind then. That’s not even a real a love potion. It can only show visions of the future, if they get together with you. It doesn’t compel someone to be with you if they don’t want to. I certainly had several of railing you all night and decided to take the chance while in a horny fever.”

Then Lucifer stuck his tongue down Adam’s throat once more before he was slapped on the ass and told to go get dressed and Lucifer would take him out for breakfast.

[tomorrowxtogether]

Tomorrow X Together's Yeonjun on solo release: 'I'm going to keep challenging myself'

Yeonjun of popular K-pop group Tomorrow X Together isn't one to shy away from a challenge. Over the last five years, the Korean performer has built a reputation alongside his four bandmates as a versatile all-rounder who can execute any choreography or genre thrown his way.

"When I was young, I just purely loved music and dance, and that love is all I had. After it became my career, music became a source of both joy and sometimes stress for me," Yeonjun tells USA TODAY. "Still, I feel like music takes such a big part of my life. I think music is what allows me to be really free and really express myself as I am."

Now, the 25-year-old is taking a new step in his evolving career. Yeonjun released his first solo mixtape, "GGUM," Sept. 19.

"I'm super excited, but at the same time, I'm kind of nervous," he says. "This is my first time doing a solo project, I do feel a bit of a pressure, and I feel responsible for doing a good job."

Curating 'GGUM' and its concept

"I'm always looking for opportunities to expand my artistry, expand my different musical performances," Yeonjun shares. "During the middle of the US tour, we started talking about this project, and we slowly built on that."

"GGUM" and its feature track highlight Yeonjun's vibrant tonality. The hip-hop inspired song is bold and dynamic, commanding attention from the second you hit play. So how'd it get its name?

"I was actually chewing on gum when I was in the car, and it just came to me all of a sudden," Yeonjun reveals.

When you're chewing gum, you can exude a certain swagger and confidence, he says. "I think that vibe really suited me well, and I thought it was a perfect concept for my first solo project," Yeonjun adds.

"GGUM" is striking in its lyrics, sonics and performance – "Blow and spit out a banger, this song's now stuck in your head," Yeonjun raps. His flow is fierce and unfaltering, while the choreography is kinetic and intense. Yeonjun helped develop the track's dance.

Facing challenges solo: 'It was no walk in the park'

Yeonjun's first solo project tested his mettle.

"Honestly speaking, I thought I was ready for this, but then I realized after working on it, that it was no walk in the park," he shares.

"It was really difficult. It was very challenging to do the vocals, the rap and the dance all at once. I tried doing everything at the same time. It's very tiring. So while working on the choreo and the song, I came to really respect solo artists," Yeonjun adds.

But Yeonjun's experiences with a group helped him along the way. "I think only because I am part of Tomorrow X Together – and I've been through so much together with them – that's why I could try this. I could take on this challenge," he says.

"If I weren't in the team, I don't think this would have been possible," Yeonjun adds.

Even though Soobin, Beomgyu, Taehyun and Hueningkai are not performing alongside him, Yeonjun felt their support.

"I did feel a lot of stress, a lot of pressure, sometimes to the point that it almost scared me. Whenever I was met with those emotions, the bandmates would come to me, they would give me a lot of words of encouragement and boost my self-confidence and self-assurance," he says. "Thanks to them, I could pull it off and finish this journey."

Yeonjun vows to 'keep challenging myself'

Yeonjun hopes "GGUM" can be a "pleasant shock to everyone." He has already established his identity through TXT, but this mixtape allows him peel back another layer.

"I hope that the people would feel that I'm bringing something new to the table," Yeonjun says. "I think it's a new start for me and a new challenge that I took on. It really means the world to me."

Yeonjun will continue to build upon the foundation he has previously laid, whether it's with Tomorrow X Together or on his own.

"I want to keep pushing my musical boundaries and make sure that I expand my artistic spectrum, and I'm going to keep challenging myself," he says.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8: Never Be Sorry

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: There’s a lot to apologize for, but some things happen for a reason

Word count: 6,323

Content/warnings: mob themes, gun mentions, swears, yelling, tough love, interrogation, punching, slapping, convincing-ish arguments?, fires, lots of time switching between the past and present, angst, sass

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this next chapter! It takes place at the same time as chapter 4 of Handiwork and Chapter 11 of YCMBWH.

Your feedback is appreciated in all forms! Comments, reblogs, and asks are golden💗

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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“Everything’s Fucked.” You spoke through gritted teeth, arms crossed, looking out the window. The open fields were whizzing by in the early morning light as Number Five drove you home in Bucky’s car, leaving him and Steve at the farm to clean up after the events of the previous night.

It was per your insistence that you stay until Curtis was found, despite having to get called in to the office for this Sunday afternoon. As much as you wished to stay back and ensure Curtis and Cherry were alright, you had a job to do. Sure, Steve and his goons could’ve called off for you like they did the last time, but you couldn’t risk the association with them, not anymore. Not when so much else in your life was at stake. And honestly, you weren’t sure how much more time you could stand to be around people. Your last straw was on the verge of snapping.

Late last night (aka early morning)

You sat in the hay loft of one of the small barns on the farm, feet swinging from the rafters as you watched the scene below. You observed the two men who crossed you, crossed Curtis as they sat in metal chairs, tied with fresh rope, one of them squirming, the other calmly watching the scene with a mischievous smirk on his face.

There was no way it was genuine, though. You knew they were going to lose. You had heard all about the the abilities of Bucky in the city from Five when you cornered him upon your return from the bar. You knew men were tearing down Lloyd’s organization as this entire scene was occurring, and you knew Bucky would get what he wanted. Apparently he had a reputation for that. How it flew under your nose for so many years, you weren’t sure, but it meant he was really good. Which might’ve also meant you weren’t as good as you thought, but that was a thought you tried to push from your mind, despite the way it kept creeping in.

Bucky was circling the two men, akin to a shark, crisp suit adorned, taking the place of the jeans and flannel shirt he borrowed for the bar. Steve was wearing the same, and your previous disdain for that formalwear was growing back and burning your throat. Sure, the farm clothes were comfortable, but you knew that would’ve made them too vulnerable, which wasn’t gonna fly in a mob interrogation like this. So suits it was. Gone was the simple pleasure associated with the old, worn clothing. This was all business.

The same went for you, except in your case, business meant comfort. The second you got back from the bar and entered the farmhouse, you shucked the dress off your body and weant straight for the laundry room, borrowing a pair of Bee’s jeans and an old flannel of Curtis’s that was sitting on top of the pile, the extra material tucked into your waistband as it bloused over your body. It was perfect for a crisp night like this, and you were sure he wouldn’t mind. Plus, who knew how dirty you were going to get at this point? You were literally in a barn.

This interrogation was going nowhere, though. Lloyd was fucking smug as ever and Cole was being a whiny bitch. And worse even, after rolling Lloyd’s name around in your head for an hour, it all made sense. Hansen. As in Lillian Hansen, criminal defense attorney that you abhorred, despite the fact you luckily never really had to deal with her. But you knew how much Scott couldn’t stand the lady, and you imagined Andy felt the same. Ugh, Andy, or should you go back to calling him DA Barber now, who was probably on Steve’s payroll. And probably Scott, too! Was there anyone left that you could trust to tell you the truth!? It looked like you were the only one who you could have faith in anymore. And maybe Cherry? But now, you were gonna use that rage and that self-reliance to get some results.

You swung down from the rafters and landed on strong legs in your boots on the dirt floor. Bucky had just gone over to greet Cherry who had walked into the barn. This was your open opportunity to get what you needed out of these pricks.

You stalked towards the men in the metal chairs, your face showing the vengeance these two were sure to face soon, if not by your hand, then by the mob’s. Your eyes narrowed and shoulders squared as you looked between the two men. You hated them more than you hated even Walker for what they had a part in. More than spoiled milk, more than being left out of the loop. More than Steve.

You were grateful for the way the corner of your eye caught Bucky’s arm barring Steve from approaching you. He had already messed up enough and taken choices from you. This wasn’t another thing you needed taken away. You would deal with it your own way as you stepped in front of Cole.

“I’ll give you one more shot. I’m sick of watching this dance. Where. Is. Curtis?”

A stuttering voice came out of Cole. “I-I don’t know.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn’t. What a dipshit. The kind who doesn’t know basic science or who to trust. But you guessed, at this point, you didn’t either. You raised your arm.

Smack. In a flash, his head was tossed to the side.

“Wrong answer.”

If Cole wasn’t going to give what you needed, maybe Lloyd could, or maybe he and his tight lips could be the vessel to get the Turner heir to squeal.

You took a step to your left, putting yourself directly in front of Lloyd.

“Where?”

Your voice was even and low. Calm, yet rage-lined. You were so sick of all this shit. You had no room to feel sad or worried anymore. All that was left was anger. At the situation, at yourself. It filled you, but it fueled you. Lloyd shook his head, paired with his shoulders that jumped up and down with laughter. Your fists tightened at the way you could tell he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“Oh, come on, Pumpkin. You’re a smartie. Bet you’re a sweet peach just like your friend, too, but I’m not giving up whe-“

Punch. Right to the jaw. It was almost in slow motion as Lloyd fell to the hay floor in a heap with a dull thump and a rustle. You had pinpointed the right spot and knocked him out cold. Your eyes quickly fixed on Cole again, seeing a new wave of fear had swept across his face.

“Is that motivation enough for you to help us now?”

He furiously nodded, but then looked back over his shoulder at Cherry. “I’ll talk to her.”

You could see the surprise on her face, but he was in no place to make demands. Just as you were about to speak up, Steve’s voice filled the barn.

“No way. You lost your right to negotiate when you let Lloyd cross that line. You talk to me or you don’t have a tongue to talk anymore. Got it?”

You watched Cole gulp in fear. That was on him for refusing to deal directly with you, and now he got Steve, who you didn’t even know the capabilities of, never having witnessed him in this environment before. All of the unknowns hitting you at once were too much. You had to get out of there, so you turned on your heel and swiftly exited the barn, fast walking away. Anywhere else.

You grumbled and shook your head as your boots brushed through the tall grass. “Fucking dumbass mobsters.”

Present

The mid-morning sun was high and bright in your eyes as you continued on the highway back home. You were exhausted, but things would get better once you got back to work. Right? They had to.

You turned in your seat, cracking your back and doing your best to stretch in the confined space. You took the opportunity to reach around, too, opening the glove compartment, shifting items around.

Peter was attempting to keep his eyes on the road, but his gaze kept flashing to you. “Everything alright, Miss Decks?”

You groaned in frustration, rifling through the drinks in the center console. Of course it was a cooler.

“Where does Bucky keep the sunglasses? He’s gotta have an extra pair somewhere. Rich bastard is rarely unprepared, I know it.”

Peter reached up near the rear view mirror and popped open a sunglasses holder where you saw a pair of dark frames.

“Ah, thank you, Five.”

You grabbed them and closed the holder, before sliding them on your face, crossing your arms, and scooting back down in the passenger seat. There was still a ways to go, and this was a little better so you didn’t go blind.

Just as you started nodding off for a nap, you felt a buzzing in your pocket. You let out a big sigh and pulled out your phone, rolling your eyes when you saw who it was: Bee. You groaned as you hit the button to answer the call, putting it on speaker in case there was something she had to say to Peter.

“What?”

There was a deep breath taken on the other side of the line. “Well good morning to you, too, Sunshine. How’s the drive going? You kind of left abruptly.”

You continued to stare out at the road, more cars having joined alongside you as the day continued.

“Yeah. Couldn’t waste anymore time. Had to get back for the shift they need me for this afternoon.”

You heard her hum, knowing exactly what her face was from that noise. Most definitely tight-lipped and skeptical.

“Yeah, okay. And this isn’t you running away from your problems, right?”

You were silent for a second. She didn’t need to call you out like that. You were fine. It was all…fine. Maybe if you could convince her of that, you could convince yourself, too.

“What problems? We got Curtis back. Bucky is gonna help you figure out everything to keep your farm and then some I bet. No issues here except me having to go to work.”

It was Bee’s turn to stay silent now. It’s not like she was ever an excessive talker, but both of you knew that if she wasn’t gracing you with a response, she could see right through you and was waiting for you to state the conclusion on your own. Her silence drove you crazy.

“Okay, fine! I’m going back to my job to drown myself in test analysis reports and probably straining my eyes at the microscope again. Is that what you wanna hear?”

She let out a dry laugh from the other end of the line.

“While I admire the hustle, partner, you know it’s not. I wanna hear you talk about exactly what’s going on with a certain blonde puppy that’s pouting in my living room right now. But…since I love you I can give you good news first.”

Good news didn’t sound like something that could exist right now. But before you could catch more of those thoughts, you were interrupted by the clearing of a throat next to you. Oh right, Five was driving this car.

“Ugh. Before you speak more, hold on. Because this is between me and you, and I don’t need someone reporting this information to his boss.”

You looked over at Peter and the way his brow furrowed.

“Five, can I count on you to keep whatever you hear in this conversation a secret?”

He simply gave a curt nod.

“Discretion is my entire job description, Miss Decks.”

You sighed. It was exactly what you wanted to hear, but was it just that?

“Yeah, but do you have to report everything I say to your superiors?”

Peter shrugged. “I have to follow their orders…so if they tell me to…yes.”

“But isn’t your primary order right now to protect me? So protect me by not saying anything to Steve. What’s he gonna do? Hold a gun to your head?”

Peter was silent.

“Oh my god, he’s not gonna put a gun to your head, is he!?”

Peter spared a quick glance at you. “Um, I’d hope not. Probably not? No, no, he knows I’d never cross him. Mr. Rogers doesn’t like to get rid of people for no good reason. So definitely not if he knew the order of my silence came from you.”

From the phone in your hand, you heard Bee hum. “Ooooo, Decky, your reputation among the ranks precedes you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d tell you to shut up, but I’m actually trying to give you the opportunity to speak right now, and I have no desire to hear more about this hierarchy, so talk before I change my mind.”

Humor reached her voice at the way you were beginning to open up to her again. “Oh I love how you love me. You might regret giving that free rein, but I’ll get on with it. This weekend went to… excuse my language…shit, but I didn’t even get to show you your surprise.”

Your ears perked up. “Bee, you what? When on Earth did you have time for that?”

She made an unsure, drawn out sound. “Well…I didn’t. I’ve had my hands pretty full..it’s um, technically from Cole, but you’re gonna like it.”

You scoffed. “How am I going to like something regifted from that fucking weirdo.”

The annoyance she’d been holding back with your bitter mood was starting to show in her voice now. Something very rare. You couldn’t believe you were actually wearing her patience down. “Decks, can you just be nice for one second!? Don’t make me call you by your birth name, because I swear I will. I’ll use the middle one, too! God. It’s a cow. It’s that cow you always asked for. She’s yours and she needs a name. Please be nice to me. I’m trying so hard right now to help you. Try and shed some light on this terrible situation.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” You shrunk in on yourself in your seat and your voice was almost a squeak. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at everything and how it did truly go to shit, you couldn’t blame it on her. It really wasn’t her fault. And this subject change was kind of nice.

Your voice was still small. “So tell me more about this cow. Mini highland?”

Back was her bright tone. “Yep! That’s the one. Light brown and adorable. You wanna rif on it?”

You sighed. “Um…maybe not right now? But I really do appreciate it. Give that girl a nice spa day for me, will you?”

You couldn’t see it, but you were sure she was nodding on the other side of the phone.

“Yeah, yeah. I will.”

Earlier last night (right after returning from the bar)

Steve and Bucky had converted one of the barns on the property into a makeshift interrogation room while Cole and Lloyd were still out cold, Bucky having knocked them out as a result of the fight in the bar. He knew you had driven Cherry home, but had no idea where you were now as he walked around the barn entrance, kicking stray rocks and looking up at the clear sky, littered with stars. All he could think about was sharing that view with you.

Over his shoulder, he could hear the grass rustling from footsteps and suddenly next to him stood Bucky. Steve looked at his best friend with a halfhearted smile, the pain evidently seeping through. It wasn’t going to be an easy night by any means, but Bucky knew it was much harder for Steve than him. Steve sighed, comfortable enough to speak his mind. He had to get this out, voicing something would keep him from combusting.

“It’s so beautiful. All the times I’ve been out here, I haven’t gotten the chance to look up at the sky at night without all the light pollution. Decks would love this. I bet she knows all the constellations.”

Bucky let out a small chuckle at the obsessive thoughts of his friend. He had a point, though, and he felt it a little more as he heard Bee walk up behind him, slotting her fingers between his own and setting her head on his shoulder. Steve continued to stare upward with a small, wistful sigh as Bee spoke over the light chirp of the crickets.

“She does. She took an astronomy elective in college. The stars are no use enjoying alone. You should be staring up at them together, but she needs to come to that conclusion on her own now that she knows everything.”

Steve nodded, huffed, then wiped his tired eyes with the heels of his palms, finally dropping his head.

“Yeah, you’re right. But I’m going to keep trying. I have to.”

Bee clicked her tongue and looked over at Bucky, responding to Steve. “As you should. Sometimes the best things are the ones someone teaches you to work a little extra for.”

Present

“Now it’s your turn, Decks. What’s really got you twisted?” Bee’s bright voice was louder than you’d like on the phone speaker.

You grumbled your response under your breath.

“What? I couldn’t quite catch that?”

You sighed and took a sip of water from the bottle you pulled out of the cooler, preparing yourself to finally voice the feelings you’d had cooped up inside.

“God, Bee this is so fucking embarrassing. I was stupid and blind. That’s what I’m so mad about, Curtis aside. It was all right in front of me the entire time. I should’ve seen it coming. I mean, Bucky, Steve, Lillian, Lloyd. They were all right there! And I missed them! I’m a terrible civic servant. I should just rescind that application I sent to the FBI.”

You huffed after having said your peace, but were glad the phone wasn’t up by your ear when her voices busted through the speaker again.

“WAIT, you applied to the FBI!? Decks, why didn’t you tell me?!”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, didn’t feel right at the time when I was at your house. And I didn’t want it over call or text in case the NSA or someone else was listening, but what does it matter now? I’m a terrible investigator.”

You thought for a second before speaking up again. “I shouldn’t have tried to make all this for myself. Maybe my mom was right and I should’ve looked for a husband a long time ago. Settled down or something and stopped pushing to have more. The world’s been trying to tell me that’s all I’m good for, but obviously even that’s something I mess up.”

“Ugh, Decks. You’ve gotta stop with that malarkey your mom fed you. Sure, she’s great and she stayed home once she found a husband, but that doesn’t have to be you. You’ve told me several times you don’t want that to be you. If that’s what you want now, great, but I know you and I know it’s not. I think you should keep going for your goals. You’d be great in the FBI.”

You wanted to smile at the compliment, but you felt like a fool. “Would I, though? For the several reasons I just told you? Plus, even if I were to get in, they do background checks. And interviews of family and friends. How’s it gonna look if my best friend is involved with the mob? And so is that guy that I kissed, like twice, but wanted to do way more than kiss with? And oh yeah, his best friend, which also happens to be the aforementioned best friend’s boyfriend? Also mob. And let’s add another friend getting kidnapped by a dirty lawyer, once again, mob, to the list. Can’t hide that.”

Bee sighed in contemplation. “Well, uh, actually, you can. Technically on paper I’m a produce contractor for Bucky’s restaurants. That’s why they’ve got all the businesses, bestie.”

“But even if that does work for the interview process, my luck won’t roll on forever. So maybe cut ties are for the best. But also, do they really even matter? Like, not really at this point. Nothing matters. I’ll just stay in the city, do my little science experiments like a monkey for those fuckwads like Walker, and maybe get a cat. It’ll be grand.”

Bee almost growled. You were sure it was terrifying in person. “Can you just stop feeling sorry for yourself!? I didn’t want to have to pull out the tough love but you leave me no choice. Yeah, this whole thing is fucked up. You got lied to, and I’m sorry for that. But honestly, nothing was fake. I’ll tell you that for a fact. And I know you know it, too. You can join the FBI if you want. You can keep your digital footprint and paper trail clean, and you can find happiness on your own terms. I’m this close to saying I’m sick of this sour behavior, Decks. If anyone can find their way out of a tangled mess like the one you think you’re caught up in, it’s you. So like you always do, put your head down and stop complainin’!”

You didn’t want to dignify this all with a response, so she kept going, but something on the other end of the line was trying to get her attention. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. But you know where I stand. On all of this. On you, on Steve, on your job. You can call me whenever, just think about it and stop selling yourself short. I know you’ve got this whole hard, tough exterior going for you, and it’s great. I love it, because I know the softness underneath. But don’t let that all harden, too. I can see you want it to because yeah, this all hurts, but that’s not gonna help your pain. It’s just gonna trap it there.”

What the fuck was this wise sage advice? She was turning into her uncle slowly. You were sure of it. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she was wrong, though, but you didn’t want to hear it. So you simply put your hood up and pulled the strings tight. Her voice held a tone of disappointment, but also empathy at your continued silence; it was softer now.

“I love you, and I care for you, and I want you to know, I never would have let Steve get that close to you if I didn’t think it could bloom into something amazing. For both of you. It’s beyond just having someone else there. I know you’re mad, but maybe give him a chance. Okay? I’ve really gotta go now. Bye.”

The dial tone signaling the end of the call filled the car. You watched as Peter’s hands adjusted on the wheel and the city skyline came into view.

The thing was, after getting all of that out to Bee and listening to her, you realized you weren’t really mad, but it all just hurt. It was a pain that came from heartbreak. Someone you trusted let you down; multiple people. But you weren’t sorry about how you acted because of it. And to your surprise, you weren’t sorry about much that had happened at all, but for now, you needed to focus on you.

Late last night (after the interrogation)

Steve stayed light on his feet as he ducked and made his way through the tall grass of the farm field. After your…. convincing argument… as to why Cole should speak up, he spilled everything to Bucky and Steve. And it was everything. The extent of his deals with Lloyd, his original plans to overtake Bee’s farm, the true financial state of his own empire, and the fact that he and Lillian were seeing each other. Which was…frankly, more than Steve was willing to hear.

All of that information, though, led him to one of the newer locations of the Turner farms. One that specialized in cattle feed and storage, so no live animals on the property, just fallow and crop fields, and several barns and silos.

Steve rushed through the tall grass, flanked by Bucky and his men, giving silent hand signals as orders. They were to make as little of a scene as possible, which would’ve been successful if Lillian’s men hadn’t made a mess of everything. Shooting without silencers, screaming, making the entire scene evident to any onlookers. They were lucky they were in the middle of nowhere. Someone might just mistake it all as a farmer’s altercation with a coyote.

After having taken care of the two guards outside one of the barns while Bucky and his men handled the rest of the area, Steve was on alert as he slid the barn door open on the largest of the several buildings. The early morning light lit up the dim barn, illuminating Curtis’s face. Steve wanted to feel relief but he had to make sure Curtis was alright first. He surveyed the area as he approached.

Out in front of him, Curtis squinted and spoke with a raspy voice. “Steve?”

Steve gave him a small smile, surprised when Curtis’s face fell a little flat, not giving much emotion.

“Hey there, partner. I’m here for retrieval service.”

He walked around behind Curtis and crouched down, pulling the knife out of his breast pocket, flicking it open, and cutting the wrist restraints. Curtis immediately brought his hands to his front, rubbing the tender area.

“Did you get Lillian? She was outside. And all the guards? Is everyone else okay? How’s Cherry? Decks? Bee?”

Steve walked around to Curtis’s front, crouching once again to begin sawing at the ropes that held his ankles.

“The girls are good. Safe on the farm being guarded, but I think they can handle themselves. Your girl has taken this quite well all things considered.”

Steve broke through the ropes and looked up at Curtis’s face. There was a cut on his cheek that appeared to be bruising slowly.

“Lillian got you pretty good, huh? Don’t worry, we’ve got her now. And Lloyd and Cole. They’re getting delivered back to an old friend in the city as we speak. Probably won’t have to see their faces ever again. That’s a blessing.”

Steve thought back to Lillian meeting him and Bucky at the edge of the property when they first arrived, gun and singular henchman at the ready, easily overpowered by the two of them. Backup must have been lagging. They were easily set in the back of one of the SUVs in the brigade to be sent away. Good riddance, she was terrible and Curtis didn’t even know the half of it.

Curtis nodded in assent. “You could say that again.”

Steve looked Curtis once over, checking for any more injuries, satisfied to not see anything too bad. She must’ve been planning something terribly drawn out and he was lucky she never got there. “Can you walk?”

Curtis nodded and groaned as he threw his hands to his knees and pressed out of the uncomfortable metal chair.

“Yeah…you never really answered all of my questions, though, city boy, at least not fully….”

Steve internally winced, hoping that would squeak past, but it didn’t. He walked with Curtis up to the edge of the barn, peeking out to check if the coast was clear and speaking into an ear piece, indicating Curtis had been picked up and was ready for transport. He nodded with confirmation and his shoulders relaxed a little, although Steve grabbed the gun from the holster on his hip just in case, keeping it low as they shuffled out into the open field. One could never be too cautious of Lillian, but this didn’t seem like a plan that was thought out very well.

Steve and Curtis stepped out onto the land of one of the Turners farms. It was a newer one, a shame, yet somewhat satisfying by how much of it was on fire right now. The barn behind them was already up in flames, per the boss’s orders.

Steve led Curtis back to his black SUV parked on the gravel road, but looked at the farmer with confusion as Curtis took it upon himself to go towards the driver’s seat, despite the way Steve was very evidently guiding him towards the passenger side. Curtis held his hand out for the keys expectantly. Steve was nervous, he didn’t like the look on his face one bit. It was stern, demanding, and…protective? And it perfectly matched his vocal tone.

“Come on. While I drive home, you’re gonna walk me through your plan to get Decks back. If the next time I see her, she’s as mopey as she’s been this weekend, or worse yet, this hardens her, you’ll have hell to pay.”

Steve sighed as he settled into his seat. “Okay, okay. But I think I’m gonna need a lot of your input. Just be nice about it.”

Curtis raised a skeptical brow at Steve as he pulled out onto the country road. Steve wished he could crawl out of his skin. He might have just risked his life to save Curtis, but now he was on edge, faced with having to confront not only what he did wrong, but how he planned to fix it, and the fact that it may never be good with you again.

In Steve’s extended silence, Curtis decided to speak up, one hand on the wheel to slightly turn his body.

“You know, Steve, I’ve always been a little skeptical of you.”

Steve’s heart was beating fast. He wasn’t blind. Something about the two of them just never clicked.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I think you and I just don’t understand the way each other ticks. I don’t know why you do the things you do.”

Steve cleared his throat, turning towards Curtis to hear more.

“Way back when, Decks dated a friend of mine. It didn’t really go anywhere, but I knew I didn’t like it and I wasn’t sure why.”

Steve nodded in anticipation to where this was going.

“I came to realize it was because I was protective, because I know her. And I know she’s tough, but there’s a lot more vulnerability under that surface. And from that moment, I saw, too, that anyone who dated her without taking special consideration for that wasn’t my friend. Anyone who didn’t bare their own intentions and thoughts like I knew she was bound to do, wasn’t a friend.”

Steve shifted in discomfort. “So you don’t think I care? You don’t think I’m honest?”

Curtis blew out a breath. “I can tell you care, but I think you were a little too comfortable withholding the truth from someone who put their inner self on display for you.”

Steve nodded in understanding. He knew what he did was wrong, but he had no idea what the true gravity of it was.

“So, you got anything more to say about it, buddy? How are you going to apologize? How will you say you’re sorry and deserving of her?”

Steve wiped a hand down over his face.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe send her something? Some food, whatever she might want? Do you know what she might want? A car? A-“

Curtis stopped him right there. “I don’t think so. You can’t buy her forgiveness. How are you showing it to her? Plus, you can’t give her a car. The FBI will flag your connection to her real quick and I won’t let your feelings and lack of knowledge make a smudge on her background check when she just sent in that application.”

Steve sighed. He had no idea you applied to the FBI. Heck, he just learned only a week ago how you got your nickname. It seemed like he was so taken aback with your chemistry, and with hiding his identity, that the two of you skipped over each other as people.

“Okay, I-I didn’t know that. What do I do to show her, then, though?”

Curtis laughed dryly. “That’s for you to figure out. And sure, it could come in the form of gifts, but more so, it should come in the form of you. Do something that shows you’re willing to go by her pace, to learn the way she works and lives her life, not that you’re trying to fit her into yours, or worse yet, have her be an accessory to everything else you have going on. Decks is someone worth prioritizing.”

“Yeah, I know. Fuck. Well then it seems like I’ve got some work to do.”

“Big time. Now, my turn, because I wanna know the extent of hell you and I may have gone through together in another sense. Tell me what Lillian was like growing up.”

Steve smiled a little in the corner of his mouth. Maybe once he fixed it all with you, he and Curtis could get along after all. “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m a saint compared to her.”

Curtis snickered. “I figured, golden boy.”

Earlier this morning, just before your departure

You shuffled around upstairs in the farmhouse, gathering the few items you came with in preparation to head back home. You knew the boys were out getting Curtis with cautious optimism they’d be back any minute. Bee and Cherry were downstairs, cleaning up the dishes from breakfast as you packed.

As you looked out the window, you saw an SUV turn off the dirt road and onto the driveway. You finished shoving everything else in your bag, slung it over your shoulder and went down the steps. When you got there, you saw Cherry walking out the front door as Bee was digging a broom and dustpan out of the closet.

You dropped your bag on the bench to scope the area, morning light glowing through the curtains. Your survey was cut short, though.

“Decks, be a dear and hold this dustpan for me, won’t you?”

You silently nodded, squatting down and looking at the shattered coffee mug. Bee didn’t seem on alert, though. She seemed relieved, and that’s when you heard Curtis’s voice on the other side of the door. You perked up before going to throw away the ceramic shards.

Just as you were dusting off your hands, the front door creaked open revealing Curtis a little battered and bruised, but walking just fine. As Bee put away the broom, you ran up to him and threw your arms around his neck. Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“I never thought I’d have to say a statement like this twice in a couple months, but I’m so happy you’re alive.”

Curtis laughed and rubbed your back. “Sure am. And I agree. That’s enough mob business for now.”

You let out a watery laugh, pulling away and letting Bee in to see her cousin. The door remained open and your eyes went straight to your bag again. As you grabbed it and put it over your shoulder, you quickly shuffled out the door, past the two large and suited men, running towards the third one who had agreed to drive you home.

Steve had walked in the house, ready to talk to you, but was caught by surprise when you zipped past him. As Bucky joined the group in the living room, ready to debrief everyone, all Steve could focus on was you. He lurched forward on his feet, shoved by Curtis, and used the momentum to jog down to Bucky’s car where you had already gotten in the passenger seat.

Peter was still standing outside the driver’s side as you looked straight ahead, arms crossed and ready to leave now that Curtis was alright. You had no intention of speaking with Steve, even though he was knocking on your window with a concerned look on his face.

“Decks. Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

You shook your head just barely enough for him to see.

“Please? I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”

You reached a hand out to lower the window just a crack, still not granting him eye contact.

“Sorry for what, Steven?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward so his one hand sat on the roof of the car, the other bracing the side mirror.

“Sorry for lying. Betraying your trust. Keeping the truth from you.”

You nodded, your lips pursed in slight anger and consideration. You finally whipped your head to face him.

“Did you ever think that maybe I wanted the choice, Steve? To know the truth. Decide whether or not what I felt for you was real by knowing all of you? You took that away from me.”

He nodded, staring down at the rocks in front of his feet. “I know, I know. That’s…..that was bad decision-making on my part-“

“See, but you got to make a decision. I didn’t. There’s a difference there. All that time spent together was a lie and a borderline waste.”

Steve shook his head, the watery blue of his eyes finally rising to meet yours again. “I don’t think it was. All those times with me, they were the real me, and I know they were the real you, too. That’s something I’ll never be sorry for: our time together. But I am sorry for taking the choice of you knowing what I might be getting you into.”

“You should be.” You faced forward in your seat again and rolled your window up, hearing Steve’s demands to Peter through the glass.

Next >

Bonus A/N: ooooooh! What does it all mean!? Hehehe🫣 was Curtis too nice to Steve? Be honest. Was bee too nice to Decks? Should she have pushed her back towards Steve a little harder?

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13 @mercurial-chuckles @thezombieprostitute

[bagadew]

I hate you loss of the headphone jack. I hate you loss of the home screen button. I hate you headphones I have to remember to charge. I hate you thin flimsy screens. I hate you phone that no longer fits in my hand. I hate you laptop too thin for a usb port. I hate you laptop without a disk drive. I hate you increasing array of dongles I need to keep using what I need. I hate you planned obsolescence. I hate you inescapable barrage of ‘improvements’ that brings more work and gives less joy. I guess it’s just easier this way.

[fingertipsmp3]

Also I can’t figure out if my life genuinely does suck or I’m just having an existential crisis because my period starts in approximately 48 hours

[shopcat]

just thinking thoughts trying to articulate them but re: trans names and even "stereotypical" trans names i just think it's like. luckily it's died down for now at least on here or maybe i just follow people who aren't assholes but seriously what was with that whole era where people just made fun of people's names or tongue in cheek poked fun at each other with a little too much cruelty let alone done by CIS people... like that's so weird. like i do have what i'd call a Stereotypical Trans Name in that it's unusual and "weird" to other people and it's not even actually like, the most out there or individualistic thing ever it's just kind of an old timey name that isn't as popular anymore but i chose it specifically bc it was a "proper" name. and i STILL get shit for it like all the time. and it's just like. why do people CARE...

like. i know you can't make grand sweeping generalisations for a group of people as varied as every trans person on earth but for a lot of us i'd go ahead and say your name as a trans person and even just AS A PERSON... A HUMAN BEING is an important part of who you are and ties into your identity to a degree that differs from person to person. and for a trans person specifically can be one of the only things you have for... yourself, along with pronouns, especially in online spaces/if you're not out/if you are out but struggle for whatever reason to even be given the dignity of being called YOUR OWN NAME, etc. i'm not gonna harp on about that aspect forever bc i think we all know but it's just like, in the face of that annoying tiktok cunts making a list of "every transfem is called [blank] and every transmasc is called [blank]" and there being 6k comments talking about how stupid and unserious it all is is just NASTY. like man shut the fuck up 😭

i don't find it funny like 95% of the time i think it's just like mean ... i also know people could probably read this and be like shut up you're being annoying it's not that deep but like whatever man. i think it's basic decency to not make fun of people for something that's a part of who they are especially if that identity puts them at risk which to be real can affect pretty much everyone other than white cishet christians etc at FAR worse severity/cost and i think instilling the idea that "people's names are fair game" outside of actual tongue in cheek intercommunity good faith joking around is actually Bad. not that i'm actually comparing these things bc it's not 1:1 and has different levels but still i think it comes from the same like... source. the amount of times i've had people use my own name as if it's a gotcha in anon hate is actually astronomical and half of them don't even realise they're BEING literally transphobic is crazy. i mean i've joked about it and i don't take it that seriously but it's still like, transphobic and i hate these people it just also doesn't bother me because i'm a normal person who isn't actually insecure about it and who literally cares what someone's name is. and xfiles girls love me unintentional side effect.

[youremyonlyhope]

My uncanny ability to accidentally specifically predict bad things now means that for the second time, a supervisor has told me to stop making predictions while at work since they keep coming true.

This has happened in two different jobs in two different fields now. Yay.

[cripplecryptid]

Mom said the group therapist wants to see me and my sister soon and uhhhh currently having a slight breakdown about it :)

[steviescrystals]

ignore this post i’m just whining again

[pinkcadillaccas]

Anyone else feeling the relentless march of time on this Saturday night

[shradsmanifestt]

I promise you, This is the only loa post you'll ever need.

I promised and I will deliver.

Law of assumption basically means - what you assume to be true is true in your reality. That's it. That's all there is to it. But you guys just wanna overcomplicate this so much when all you got to do is assume in your favour and move on with that. Assume that your desire is already yours and persist on that.

Manifestation is INSTANT. The minute you decided you wanted it, the minute you decided that it is yours - It was done. That was it. It's already done. That is your new assumption, that is your story. As long as you persist in this there is nothing on Earth that could stop you from having it. BUT, there is one thing that can stop you from having it.

YOU, IT'S YOU. YOU ARE THE REASON. What other answer did you expect it to be?

The only thing to know here is this : The 3D is not what we change when manifesting, we change the 4D. The 3D simply reflects it. That is all.

You guys are so obsessed with changing the 3d, "trying" to manifest something, clicking on every clickbait video that says this is the technique you need to manifest your desire in 24 hours and all sorts of shit.

GUYS, GUYS GUYS PLEASEEEEE, Stop it. You are only telling yourself how you don't have it. You have got to realise that by now atleast! I mean c'mon. This is your reality, ok? You create every single part of it. If you can create it unconsciously, you sure as hell can do it consciously. You have to realise now and now that you are the creator of your reality. Don't let anything or anyone convince you otherwise.

Ok now I understand that some of you may be struggling so I am gonna be real straight with you. You are the one going back to the old story again and again. You're the one who is just overconsuming information instead of actually applying what you know. Stop this cycle. Look every single question you ask me again and again is an affirmation. An affirmation that tells everyone how you don't have what you want.

I've been persisting for two years but I didn't manifest it - Affirmation It feels impossible - Affirmation. Why aren't my affirmations working - Affirmation. Am I even doing this right? - Affirmation.

You are doing this to yourself. You get that??!

If you want it, you have to be willing to change yourself, to change your thoughts, to stay discplined in the story that you want. There's no other magical way to it. This is it. If you want it bad enough, OWN IT. FUCKING OWN IT AND PERSIST ON WHAT YOU WANT.

You know why you don't have it yet?? CAUSE YOU'RE SO FUCKING RELIANT ON THE 3D. Stop it. You aren't trying to change the 3d. Your only job is to change your 4d - your thoughts , your attention and awareness. The 3d has no other choice but to reflect it. 3d has no power and yk why? Cause it's so malleable and all it can ever do is reflect your 4d, your imagination. But your imagination - NOW that is in your hands, You can choose to think what you want, You can choose to accept what you want as true and just let your sc mind do it's magic. Thats all you need to know.

Now I get it, circumstances may same really really bad like almost impossible for you to believe that the opposite of what is actually there is actually the real reality. But you're just gonna have to do it anyway. Imagination - IS THE REAL REALITY. And there is nothing you can do to change it. SO accept that and change your thoughts.

DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU'RE HERE RN? CAUSE YOU DID IT, YOU FOUND OUT THE ULTIMATE TRUTH OF LIFE. HOW YOU HAVE ALL THE POWER, HOW YOU ARE THE CREATOR OF YOUR REALITY.

Now if you don't believe in all this and sees this as some manifestation crap then I'm respectfully asking you to get the fuck off my blog, I don't need you here if you don't need me.

But if you know that this is it, this is true then I want you to read very carefully what I am gonna say next because THIS IS IT -

is loa real for YOU? (yes) is manifestation real for YOU? (yes) so is your imagination the real reality in your life? (yes) - so obviously what you assume has to be real too right? So it is real and it is yours. You have it and you have it now. That's it. That's all there is to it. If you believe in this, If you can know this, You have to know that this is it, what you assume is true, IS true in your reality.

All you gotta do is persist. Persist in your new story. It doesn't matter what technique you guys use. Just know that it is done. Stop treating it like a process - MANIFESTATION IS NOT A PROCESS, IT IS INSTANT, IT WAS YOURS THE MINUTE YOU DECIDED SO. CREATION IS FINISHED, IT IS YOURS.

Just know that it's done. You're not waiting for something to happen in the 3D - NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

YOU ARE THE VALIDATION. WHY ASK YOURSELF WHERE IT IS - WHEN YOU ALREADY HAVE IT.

Guys this is it, this is all you need, read it and reread it as many times you want to just get it in your head but trust me this is it.

You've got this!

Love, Shrads