#Neve couldn’t stop laughing and was still laughing in the picture

[loganlostitall]

The fact that these 3 and Neve even think that Billy and Stu were gay brings me so much joy you have no clue

something homosexual happened I fear

[kasienda]

Celebrity Status: Ch 7 - Hiding

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Read on Ao3

Chapter 7: Hiding

I can’t believe Ladybug dropped someone! 

Omg! Ladybug dropped an actual person! 

Adrien wanted to reach through his screen and shake these people! They clearly weren’t watching the same video he was. She hadn’t dropped him. He had fought her, and when he won because she wasn’t actually trying to fight back, he fell. 

Not her fault. 

She probably wouldn’t see it that way though. 

He had tried to look for her after the akuma, but she had bolted without even their usual fist bump.

And now the internet was exploding in condemnation. 

He glanced towards his open window, but there was still no sign of her. 

He thought that she would come. She had for the other for every other PR mishap. 

But another hour went by and she didn’t show. 

He transformed and took to the rooftops. Once he was a few blocks away from the mansion he tried to call her, but she didn’t answer. He didn’t even know if she was transformed.

Just when he was about to give up, the little Ladybug showed up on his map. She wanted him to find her. 

He found her sitting alone, her legs curled into her chest behind a brick chimney. He sat next to her without saying anything. She leaned her head onto his shoulder. A second later she was shaking as she cried.

He wrapped his arms around her. “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered.

She shook her head, trying to wipe away her own tears, but they just kept falling. 

“He didn’t trust me,” she sobs.

He was an idiot, but Chat Noir knew saying that wouldn’t help. 

“I thought it didn’t matter what anyone thought of me,” she says, her voice smaller than he had ever heard it. 

“We’ll fix it,” he promised. 

“How? Everything I say makes it worse.” 

That was more his fault than hers, though she didn’t know that. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”

She nodded, but fell into silence once again. 

“How can I make you feel better?” he asked. 

“You’re doing just fine,” she said.

“No,” he disagreed. She might have stopped crying, but she had yet to smile. “What’s something dumb we could talk about?” 

Her chin jutted forward and to the side. “How about that billboard right there?” 

He followed her gaze, and found himself looking at his own photo-shopped image. 

He groaned. He hated that ad. 

Ladybug laughed, so mission successful he supposed. “Jealous, Chaton?” 

He blinked for a second. “Should I be?” 

“Oh, definitely. He’s like the whole deal.” 

He grinned. If only she knew. “Am I sensing a celebrity crush, M’lady?” he teased. 

He didn’t expect her to turn red. 

His heart took off without his permission. 

“Oh my god! You totally have a celebrity crush on Adrien Agreste!” 

How in hell had that happened?

“No! It’s not a celebrity crush!” 

He knew that it was probably more. They had hung out a few times after all.

"I mean, he's a celebrity, and you have a crush on him. Isn't that the definition of a celebrity crush?"

"But it makes it sound so superficial," she whined. "I do actually know him, you know."

"I've seen the pictures. Riposte, wasn't it?"

Adrien had obsessed over the pictures of Ladybug holding him in her arms princess style more than once.

She bit her lower lip. “Y-yeah. Riposte.” 

He almost laughed at her attempt to keep a straight face. “Aw man! You agreed too easily. Now, I’m gonna have to assume that you know him personally.” 

She had spent multiple evenings in his bedroom just in the last two weeks.

He still expected her to scoff. 

She did not. 

Could that would mean—

“You know Adrien Agreste, teenage supermodel? Like in person as yourself?"

 She laughed nervously. "Forget I said anything."

He couldn’t forget it. This was one fact too many. 

Because she didn’t deny it. 

"You should confess,” he blurted.

Was that good advice? Or was he just being self-serving here?

She shook her head. "Ha! Do you have any idea how many confessions Adrien gets in just a month?! He has a script for rejecting them.” 

He wished that was true. He never knew what to say when a stranger confessed to him. But if he knew her, it wasn’t the same thing. 

Not even close. 

"But didn't you say you were his friend?"

"Exactly! He gets a thousand love confessions, but only has a handful of friends. His friends are actually really important to him. Probably more important than anything else. I don't want to ruin something so rare and precious to him."

Adrien grew quiet. Ladybug saw him. Like, she truly saw him. And for the first time ever, it didn’t matter that he didn’t know who she was. 

She knew him. 

And he was more in love with her than ever. 

“I think he’d be lucky to have someone like you in his life,” he said. 

Her cheeks turned pink. “Oh my god. That’s so cheesy.”

“It’s also true.”

She shook her head, smiling.

He returned the expression.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“Making me feel like I have something to offer? Like my problems aren’t the end of the world? For making me feel better in general.”

He bumped her shoulder. “What are friends for?” 

Her arms wrapped around his neck. “I am so lucky that out of everyone in Paris, you were chosen as my partner.” 

He hugged her back. “Me too, bug. Me too.”

… 

Marinette stayed out way too late with Chat Noir, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it even as she trudged up the stairs to her front door. 

He just had this way of making everything feel possible. Like her problems weren’t so gargantuan. 

She took a deep breath and swung open the door. 

"Marinette! Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you all day!” her maman demanded. 

Marinette pulled out her phone. Sure enough, she had over dozen missed calls. 

“Sorry. I missed that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” The words felt hollow even to her own ears. She had used them so many times they had lost all meaning. 

Her maman sighed, and yanked her into a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay. Will you please tell me where you were?” 

“I wasn’t anywhere in particular. I was just roaming the city. Trying to get out of my own head.” 

That much was true.

Her mother pulled away and searched her face. Marinette didn’t know what she was looking for.

“Will you please tell me what’s going on?” Sabine begged.

Marientte’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t… I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

Her mother’s hand stroked her arm from her shoulder to her wrist. 

“You could never!” her maman insisted. 

Marinette pulled away from her mother’s hold. It wasn’t true. She was already disappointing them. She wished she could tell them the truth. 

But at least now, she had a believable lie. Or at least she hoped it was believable.

Marinette stared at her hands. 

"Umm... I've been having panic attacks. They’ve— they’ve gotten really bad.” 

Sabine covered her mouth with her hands. 

Marinette made herself continue. “I try to go to class anyway, but sometimes, it's too much and I just have to hide. Especially during akuma attacks. I—I've been researching. I think I might have PTSD."

"Why didn't you tell us?" The question was barely louder than a whisper. 

"It's just… my anxiety had been so much better this year, and you were so proud. I didn't want to disappoint either of you."

“Marinette.” 

“So I lied. And then later you were so upset and I wanted to take it back, but it seemed too late. So I just dug in.”

Sabine wrapped her in a hug. "Oh honey! We would never be disappointed in you over something like this. We want to know about these things, so that we can help you."

"You’re right,” Marientte mumbled into her mother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

Sabine kissed the top of her head, and pulled her into another hug. “Marinette, thank you for telling me. I’m so proud of you for telling me. We can look into getting you a psychiatrist.”

Marinette winced. That wouldn’t help her. She couldn’t talk about most of the things that she struggled with. All her secrets were off the table. And she definitely didn’t want to take meds for panic attacks that weren’t happening, but that was a problem for another day. For now, Marinette just let herself relax in her mother’s hold. 

“Please remember next time, you can’t hide from things that are hard. It only makes them worse.”

But her mother was right. She couldn’t keep hiding from things that were hard. 

And Chat Noir was right. Her PR problem didn’t have to be the end of the world. 

She just needed to be more proactive. Adrien would certainly have some ideas. 

…

[thatsalrightprettymama]

Dancing With Your Ghost

A/N : Here's a really angsty blurb I wrote while listening to "Dancing With Your Ghost" by Sasha Alex Sloan, and I might be biased when I suggest you should give it a listen with this lol. It's probably my shortest piece, but I really like it. I hope you all like it too! As always constructive criticism is welcomed and it's not proofread.

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of suicide, hurt, angst, grief.

Word count: 854

Laying in his dim room, Elvis tries to stop the same thoughts and questions that’s filled him mind ever since his Mama got the call and she told him the news, that you were gone. When his Mama told him he didn’t want to believe it, how could he believe it when he kissed you goodbye the other night with a promise of going to Club Handy to dance soon. You looked so happy and carefree under the porchlight of your parent’s house that night, how was he supposed to know you had monsters clawing inside you. If he would’ve known, he would’ve done anything to help you fight em.  As the gaping hole in his chest start to cause familiar tears to burn his eyes, he slowly gets up from his bed.

With quiet heavy steps Elvis slowly makes his way over to his record player, still having your favorite Patsy record in it he dops the needle on it. Letting the country woman’s crooning softly fill his room as he makes his way to his closet. Opening the doors, he shoves his clothes to the side to grab the soft pink dress he had hanging in the back. He didn’t know if your parent’s noticed he stole it after the funeral, and he can’t really find himself to care if they did. Sliding the fabric off the hanger, he brings to soft material to face and inhales the faint remains of your scent.

Elvis just stands there with the dress pressed against his face as he blinks back tears. Hearing the opening notes of “Walking After Midnight.”, he slowly takes the dress from his face and cradles it against him. Closing his burning eyes, he starts to slowly sway to the music of your favorite song. As Patsy Cline croons into the dark room, he inhales the faint smell of your dress again and pictures he’s dancing with you like he was just a few weeks ago.

As the tears start to slip past his eyes, Elvis imagines that he’s holding you as he sways to the music. For a moment he pretends that you’re still here in his arms. That you’re still there smiling up at him sweetly as Y/E/C shine up at him, that you’re still there swaying with him with your arms around him. As the tears continue to fall, he can’t help but think he’d do anything just to have you in his arms again. Hell, he’d give up music, his fame, and fortune if it meant that he could either go back in time and make you realize that you were so loved and needed here, or if it meant he could just have you again because he didn’t know how to go on when he was still yours.

Elvis can’t help but think it’s funny in some sick twisted way. Whenever he briefly thought of death and you, he always thought that you two would be old geezers and then that he would go first. Because even in Elvis’s wildest nightmares, the thought of you dying let alone killing yourself never appeared in them. Clutching the dress tighter he swallows back sobs and continues to sway with Patsy’s voice. As the older woman continues to sing into the room, the hole in his chest seems hollower somehow. He never imagined that he would experience pain this deep, and a small part of his mind wonders if this how you felt? Did you feel this hollow and empty behind that bright smile?

 Did you feel this endless ache in your heart when you would laugh at his jokes? Cause if you felt an ounce of anything he’s feeling, he could see why you’d wanna die. Cause god did part of him want to just give up and join you. To end this constant aching by ending it all, and maybe see you again. But he couldn’t do that to his Mama. He never wanted to make his Mama feel like this pain he felt.

Elvis could say he was used to feeling lost in is life, but he’d never felt this lost before. He didn’t know how he was going to get through the rest of his life with this hole in his chest. Yeah he told people that he was fine, and he continued the endless routine of shows and TV appearances, but all he really wanted to do was hide in his room and wish you were there.

As the song began to fade and the next one started, Elvis continued to sway with your dress. Trying to prolong the mirage he built up, because despite already watching your casket get lowered into the ground, he’s never going to be ready to say Goodbye to you. Hell, he never even got to say goodbye to you, because he just told you “See you soon doll” when he left you on your parent’s porch that night. Maybe if he would’ve stayed on the porch talking to you longer, maybe if he would’ve just noticed something goddamn it you might still be here. You might still be here, and Elvis wouldn’t have to dance with your ghost.

[missymurphy1985]

The Groupie (part three)

Cillian has just turned 30, and has no children. Reader is a fan, has been since day one and is a plus size girl. I myself am a UK size 16, so I hope I don't offend anyone with my story (I'm writing about my own insecurities a little here so be kind please).

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06

A year had passed since that night. A year of you going through some serious soul searching. You'd become comfortable with yourself - to the point you were genuinely happy with your mind and your body, curves and all. You'd even been on dates - it surprised you when the men you'd been out with confessed they actually preferred a girl with a figure like yours.

You'd even began a university course in London, studying for a PhD in Psychology and Mental Health. You'd been to hell and back in your own kind, and made it through the other side. Now you wanted to help others achieve the same.

To help fun your course, you'd taken on work at a live jazz bar in Camden Town in the evenings and weekends. The music was always incredible, and you were allowed to wear 50s style dresses that accentuated your curves perfectly. Along with a slick new bobbed haircut and your favourite red lipstick, you relished in your new found life and emotional freedom. You had a new group of friends that you shared a flat with in Kilburn, and the regulars in the bar treated you like family. Life was perfect, a far cry from where you were just 12 months earlier. You'd also stayed off social media - and stopped following the career of the man that broke your heart.

It was one Saturday night, when your shift had not long started, when you were suddenly catapulted straight back to that morning.

"What can I get you?" You asked over the dimly lit bar. The man turned quickly without looking at you and ordered a Guinness. You froze. That voice... You'd know it anywhere... You swallowed the lump in your throat and poured his drink, carefully so as not to spill any. Praying to all that was holy that he wouldn't recognise you..

You placed it on the bar, holding a hand out as he placed a crisp £5 note in your hand, still not turning round. You handed him his change, which is when his eyes finally met yours. He did a quick double take, and you were just as quick to move onto the next customer.

You felt his eyes on you all evening and couldn't help but smile to yourself. Not that you'd ever show him that. You'd served him a couple of times through the course of the evening and was proud of yourself for not acknowledging him once.

Your shift came to an end around 10pm, and your flatmates soon joined you at the bar for a few drinks. Your best friend and flatmate Ella was due onstage any second, and as much as part of you wanted to crawl under the crowd and hide at home you couldn't miss her debut performance.

She came onstage a few minutes after you left your post behind the bar and sank into your seat in a booth with the rest of the Flat 76 crew. Your mojito in hand, you cheered with the rest of them as hour friend took to the mic and started to sing an Amy Winehouse classic.

"Y/n?" You turned at the sound of your name, and froze when those ice blue eyes made contact with yours. You ignored him, and turned your attention back to the stage. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you continued to ignore him.

"Y/n... I think Cillian Murphy is talking to you...." Your friend Stacey nudged you.

"Don't be ridiculous, Stace, he's clearly mixed me up with someone else."

"Y/n, for the love of God will you talk to me?!" His voice was louder now as he shouted across the table. Your friends looked between the two of you, stunned. You turned to face him and fought against your heart to stop yourself from bursting into tears. You stood up and walked over to him.

"I have absolutely nothing to say to you. Now leave me alone." You turned to walk away but he grabbed your wrist. Wrenching your hand back, your other hand quickly moved, slapping his cheek. A years worth of pent up anger and frustration buried deep in your damp eyes as he staggered backwards into a tall table, fortunately no one was sat on it and after a quick glance around it appeared no one had noticed either. Your friends on the other hand, saw everything and their faces wore matching open-mouthed expressions.

"What the fuck?!" He yelled, rubbing his cheek and grabbing your elbow, dragging you over to the restroom hallway. Once you were alone your emotions got the better of you.

"What's the matter? A hundred Euro not enough? Come back to see if you can double your money huh?!" You yelled at him, his face a picture of both anger and confusion.

"The fuck are you talking about? A hundred what?"

"Neve told me about your little wager Cillian - I hope you spent the money well! Tell me, what did you buy with it? New shoes? Fancy new shirt?"

"Wager? Neve? The fuck?"

"I'm not stupid Cillian - there's no way you'd be seen out in public with someone like me and that's okay!! I've come to terms with it, and I'm fine! I'm happier now than I've ever fucking been and NONE of it is down to you!!!"

"Will you stop fucking talking, and listen to me!!!" His voice loud, the Cork accent breaking through and stopping you in your tracks.

"Neve was trying to get with me from the first day of that production. Flirty comments, making excuses to be near me, it was fucking horrendous! I knew she wasn't interested in me, just wanted to boost her fucking career. I made it clear I wasn't interested immediately but she wasn't getting the message. Seeing me with you sent her fucking crazy! I never ONCE made any kind of wager about you or anyone else! I barely spoke to her by the end of the show run unless I absolutely had to!"

"You would say that wouldn't you? Irresistible Cillian Murphy, woman falling at your feet!"

"For fucks sake... You followed me for ten years. Ten years! Ever known me fuck around?"

"No..."

"One night stands?"

You shook your head.

"Scandals?"

"Well no... But..."

"But nothing!!! I'm not, nor have I ever been, THAT guy!"

You looked into his eyes.. he looked genuine. But you couldn't let yourself go back to that person you were before. That girl was weak. That girl was naive and stupid. You straightened your back and mentally reminded yourself of how far you'd come.

"What do you want from me Cillian?"

"Just you. It's always been you, y/n."

"Bullshit..." You scoffed, shaking your head.

"What do I need to do to prove it to you?"

"I can't answer that Cillian. I don't know."

"Come back to mine? We can talk properly?" You pulled back, almost laughing and shaking your head, immediately questioning his intentions.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm going back to my friends and watching the rest of the show. I never want to see you again." You turned on your heels and walked back into the bar area, rejoining your friends at the table who were all staring at you. Full of questions that you'd never give the answers to. You didn't look back at him once.

All that talk, and all he was interested in was getting you back to his to use you all over again?

Not this time Cillian, not this time.

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson x Reader)

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Be added to series taglist

A/N: I have finally graduated!! now I have time so I can work on this until its finished, and trust me, it won't take too long, I'll release the other chapters on a faster, more regular basis since I don't have much else to do, and cause I've had the plan and ideas for the rest of this story for so long. I thank you for your patience with me and I hope y'all love it!! And as always Ash is my savior and I love her @imagines-r-s

change in POV is signalized by:

Y/N= regular ELIAS= italics

(any other info is on the masterlist)

Warnings: cursing, Mentions of Psych, baby & baby talk, loving of dogs, goalie being essentially psychic

Words: 3.3k

Summary: some reflecting on prior events happens.

Well, it has been quite the day for you. You never would have thought anything like this could have happened. “Freaking out” isn’t strong enough to describe your current state. You need to talk to someone, god you’re so happy right now. So you call Quinn.

“Hey, Quinny!”

“Sup Y/N/N?” he answers

“I’m picking up from work, and I'm about to head home, where you will be there too, with a bottle of our favorite wine and some take-out.”

“Got it, something important happened?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” you still couldn't stop smiling.

“Ok how important, expensive wine or REALLY expensive wine?”

“Uhhh in between,” you decided.

“Ahhh ok, can't wait. See you there, bye!!”

“Bye, Huggy”

You finish packing up and text Brock to tell him that you and Quinn are having a wine night, to make sure he knows to be somewhere else.

As you’re walking out, you call Holly.

“Hey, Babe!”

“Howdy!”

“God I always forget you interned in Dallas,” she says laughing.

“You pick that shit up quickly, I’m telling you. even the Fins were saying 'y'all'"

“So what’s up?” She asks.

“Are you free tonight, cause I have some very big news so it’s a wine night.”

“Umm, let me see if Bo wants to have the guys over and watch Gunnar” you hear her call her husband and ask him. “He said sure!”

“Okie Dokie! Text Quinn that you’re coming too, so he knows to get your usual from the take-out place” you tell her.

“Will do, and Y/N/N?" she says before you hang up.

“Yep?”

“Do you want me to grab ice cream?” She asks, already knowing your answer.

“Of course!”

“Ok, see you there” she hangs up.

You drive home jamming out to your music, as everyone should. You still can’t believe what happened today. It feels like it happened last week but it also feels like you never left that break room. Hopefully, Elias won’t mind that you’re telling Quinn and Holly. As long as you tell them not to say anything to the other guys, all should be well.

Once you get home, the dogs greet you at the door, “Oh hi! Hi sweeties! Oh yes, yes hi Coolieee, oh you’re such a cutie,” you drop your bags and get down on your knees to get on their level. When you get on your knees, Milo knows it means you want him to hug you, so he hops up and puts his paws on your shoulders. “Hi, hi, hi, oh thank you for the hugs. Oh yes auntie loves you soooooo much mmwwaaa”

Quinn is there and has everything set up and ready to go, so you change into your sweats and grab your blanket, and sit next to Quinn on the couch, grabbing your glass of wine and food before you sit down. Now you just have to wait for Holly

“Sooo, what’s the news?” Quinn asks you.

“Holly isn’t here yet, we have to wait.”

”Oh so it’s that good?” He raises his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” You question, taking a sip of your wine.

“Well, when the news isn’t that important you usually don’t care if she hears it after me, or I hear it after her. But when it’s super important news, you have the other one wait.”

“Hmm, well then yeah. It’s pretty fuckin’ great, I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling for like 5 hours.”

Just then Holly comes in the door with Gus under one arm and a grocery bag full of ice cream in her other hand, “hi puppies, yes I have your friend with me”

“Oh! Hi Burton!!” You say with your puppy voice.

“Ok, why do you call him Burton? I never understood that.”

“It’s from one of my favorite shows!” You exclaim

“Y/N/N I don’t know if you know this but you, your brother, and Quinn all have like 50 “favorite TV shows” I’m gonna need you to say more than that,” she says to you as she grabs her food from the counter, and heads to the couch. She sits on the side of you not occupied by Quinn.

“Ok, rude,” Quinn sassed.

“It’s from Psych. One of the main characters is called Gus, but his first name is Burton, and the police chief and one of the detectives calls him by his full name which is Burton Guster, so there.”

“Got it.”

“Ok, Holly no more distractions,” Quinn starts, sticking his tongue out at her, she returns the gesture. “So what’s the important news?”

“Oh, you didn’t tell him yet! So it’s really important!” she says.

“Hmm, I guess I do do that,” you realize, “I would actually like you guys to guess” you take a bite of your food, smugly. Knowing neither of them would even have an idea of what to guess.

“Hmmm,” Quinn hums, he looks like he has a mischievous grin “does it have to do with a certain Swede?”

“Wha-“ you choke on your bite of food, Quinn is giggling at your reaction, “the fuck? How’d you know that?”

“Well umm, a certain brother of yours may have asked me if he should do that plan.”

“Why would you do that?’ you whined, upset at your friends for teaming up on you. You couldn’t imagine what you would’ve done if that plan didn’t work out the way it did today.

“Did it work?” He asked with a grin.

“That’s not the point, asshole!”

“See but it worked! He doesn’t hate you anymore, now you can flirt your ass off and make him see you as more than a friend” he tells you.

You laugh, he has no idea what happened in that break room.

“Ok, I’m out of the loop here, what happened?” Holly interjects

“Ok, well my idiot brother and apparently my asshole best friend came up with this plan-“

“Actually Marky and Thatch knew about it too,” he stops you from interrupting, “AND, to be fair, you can’t blame Brock for going to us. I mean I’m your best friend, and the goalies are just good at planning and doing crazy things”

“WELL. Those dicks that I call my closest friends and family, decided it was a good idea to lock me in one of the Canucks break rooms with Elias fucking Pettersson because he hated me and they wanted us to get along”

Holly starts laughing, “oh my god, they did not” she continues to laugh and Quinn joins her. You roll your eyes at them both.

“Yes, they did. I was not a happy camper. But it worked out and he doesn’t hate me.”

“See, I knew it would work! And like I said, now you can work your moves and get him to like you as more than just a friend.” He grins again.

You grin “Oh, also that’s the other part.” You take a long sip of your wine, both Holly and Quinn stared at you wide-eyed, waiting for you to finish, “turns out he’s a great kisser”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said softly, he took a breath “WHAT?”

“Yeah, would you like more details?”

“Fucking- yeah,” they said simultaneously.

You went on to explain the events that happened in that incredible breakroom

“How the fuck did he keep that a secret, and why?” Quinn exclaimed, clearly confused that he didn't know something so big about who he considers one of his best friends.

“I don't know, but both of you have to absolutely promise me that you won't tell literally anyone else, ok? Not Bo, not Brock, not Demer, Stech, Marky, nobody!”

“Yeah, yeah that's fine,” Holly said, waving her hand in dismissal, wanting to get past that and know more. “So how do you feel?”

“Like the luckiest girl in the world,” you said while giggling with a big smile.

“Y/N/N. I’m so happy for you.” Quinn says with a genuine smile.”

“Ok, enough about me. How were your days?”

“Not as interesting as yours, but Gunnar and I spent the whole day out and about with Bo, and now I’m having a great wine night with you guys so it’s been a pretty amazing day.”

“Yeah, well I spent the whole day waiting for Y/N to come to kill me cause I thought she’d find out I had something to do with that whole situation,” Quinn says.

“Well let me just tell you, Hughes, if it hadn’t ended up the way it did, I may have had a few words for you.”

“I know, that’s why I was panicking the whole day”

“OH MY GOD” Holly shouted as she looked at her phone

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask

“Umm, you are going to LOVE this shit, Y/N/N”

She thrusts her phone in your face. When you look down you see a picture of Elias holding Gunnar, with a toy you hadn’t seen before. Elias looks so happy, looking down at the baby Horvat. Then there’s another alert on Holly's phone, “ohmygod,” you mumble. The alert is another text from Bo, it’s a video this time. You press play. In the video Elias is playing with Gunnar, using a high-pitched baby voice “oh yes you love your new toy that the best uncle in the world got you! Yes, you do cause I’m your very favorite, yes I am. You are just so cute, so lucky you got your looks from your mama, yes you are.”

From behind the camera, you can hear Bo, “Hey, have you looked at him, he looks just like me”

“Daddy is crazy, isn’t he? Yeaaaaah” Elias says to the boy.

The video ends and you see what text Bo had sent along with the picture and video

Bowie 💙: Yes, he got him ANOTHER toy. If he keeps this up, we’re gonna need a bigger house just for the toys lias gets him

“This boy is going to be the death of me I swear to god,” you say, handing the phone to Quinn, and placing your head in your hand. That video was literally the cutest thing you’ve seen in about 5 years.

You continue to talk, you end up explaining what Elias had told you about not doing anything else yet, and what he had said regarding that. You all finish eating and eventually decide on watching some ’how i met your mother’.

After they leave, you spend the rest of the night replaying the events from the break room in your head. Imagining what will eventually happen with you two. You truly can’t believe it. You’ve never felt this way about anyone and you’ve only known he likes you for about 12 hours. Elias Pettersson is going to be a special, if not the most special person in your life. So you pull out your notebook and a pen that you always keep next to your bed and you write your thoughts down.

First, you write the date at the top then skip 2 lines

Elias Pettersson, I think I love you. I know it’s too early to say and we’ve only had one day together, but I need to write this down.

It looks ridiculous and cheesy now that I’m reading it but if my gut is right, which it normally is, I just had to write it down. I had to tell you. If not in real life, at least just in this notebook. As cliche as it sounds, maybe I can show you it one day. I mean I do love myself a hallmark movie, so maybe this can be like one of those.

You sign it at the bottom, close your notebook, and place it back in your drawer.

You’re such a hopeless romantic and you kinda want to make fun of yourself, like you would do if you found out any of the guys did this kind of thing. ( And if you’re being honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if your own brother would do something like this. Your parents kind of instilled a love of romcoms in you guys at a young age.)

So once your thoughts have settled, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Elias’s night wasn’t that much different. He arrived at the Horvat residence with some snacks for the boys, and a new toy for Gunnar, as always. Every time he sees one he knows Gunnar will like, he buys it...it’s a problem.

“Petey!!” Stech shouts as he gets up to grab the snacks from him.

“So how was your daaaaay” Thatcher asks from the couch.

“I’m sure Brock has inform you of how my day went”

“‘Inform’ us he has. But OUR plan is what caused this. WE worked very hard on it” Thatcher says, chuckling.

“Wait, who all knew about it??”

“I didn’t!” Bo shouts from the kitchen!

“And neither did this little boy, he would never betray me,” Elias says, grabbing Gunnar from Brock on the couch and carrying him into the kitchen, the other guys follow. “And guess what Gunnar!!! I got you another toy, cause I’m the best uncle you have, yes I am.”

“Another toy Lias?? Really, I’m going to need to make a whole mother room for all of the toys you get him if you don’t stop”

“But why would I ever stop when he is the best boy ever! He deserves the world, yes he does,” Elias says, looking at Gunnar the whole time.

“Ok, now it’s time for him to have dinner,” Bo says, grabbing Gunnar from Elias.

“So… all of you knew?”

Stech, Brock, Demer, and Marky all nodded, with a guilty look.

“What about you? Elias said, looking at Nils. Nils looked guilty and nodded slowly “my own son? Really Hogs?”

“I’m sorry, I just wants to help you!!”

“We all just ‘wants’ to help you, Petey!” Marky said, mocking the youngest Swede’s mistake. All of them would do that to both of them, make fun of them when they messed up, they just wanted to help them, it’s all in good fun.

“Ok, I know but what if it didn’t work, what would you guys have done?”

“Elias my dear, the point is that it did work. And now Brock won’t have an aneurysm every time you and Y/N/N are in the same room together” Troy says, placing his arm around Elias’s shoulder.

“Yeah Petey, all we wanted was for you to like her as much as we do!” Thatcher said.

“Ok, I never hated her, I just-”, he paused trying to come up with what he was going to say next, “I don’t socialize well, it’s hard for me to talk to people, ok?”

“Which is exactly why we did this. Y/C/N/N is a sweet girl, we just needed to give you both a push since you’re essentially the same person” Marky said.

“LITERALLY” Brock shouted, “ I swear, the more and more I hang out with you, Petey, the more I realize you and my sister are the same. Like sure, she and Quinny are best friends. And like they’re both similar like they’re both shy, awkward, nice, and stuff but you two have the same humor, need for attention, sassy bite, etcétéra etcétéra.”

“Oh my god, you’re totally right! And their fake self confident-ness thingy!!” The other guys shouted assorted affirmations to Nils’s comment.

“What do you mean ‘fake self-confidence thing’?” Elias was confused.

“Both of you do a something where you say stuffs like “well I’m hot, so..” or “cause I’m the best” and my favorite “because the people likes me better than you” but neither of you feel that way far down. You both just like to act like you more confident than you are really.”

“Damn, he called you two out, and he’s so right” Bo chimed in with a chuckle. “Ok, well now that he’s done eating, Marky, can you and the baby Swede go out and pick up the pizza?”

“Yes sir, captain sir!” Marky said saluting Bo.

The rest of them talked while they waited for Gunnars stomach to settle.

“Hey Petey, wanna go grab drinks from the store with me,” Thatcher asks.

“I think we’re good actu-“ Bo starts

“Petey” Thatcher insists with a look that says that’s not exactly the reason why he wants Elias to come with him. And he knows better than to say no to a goalie who gives him that look.

“Yep,” he gets up and follows Demer out the door.

They get in the car and that’s when it starts “so,” Thatch says, “how long have you liked her?” He asks.

“I- uh what? What are you talking abou-”

“Oh save it blondy, I have a 6th sense about this shit.”

“Damn goalies. At least Marky doesn’t know,” Elias mumbles under his breath.

“Oh he definitely does, he just hasn’t said anything for some reason” he laughs.

“How do you know he just doesn’t know?”

“Cause I know this shit, bro. He may have even been messing with you since he and Y/N/N are cuddle buddies and shit. Just to get you to make a move or something”

“HE MADE ME DO THE OPPOSITE! I thought they were together for the longest time until she told me TODAY” That made Thatcher laugh, you know, Elias’s pain and suffering is just HILARIOUS.

Once he calmed down he continued to talk, “Ok, well you didn’t tell us the whole story of what happened in there, so spill” he said as they walked into the store.

“We may have talked”

“....bitch that’s not it, keep going”

“And we kissed a little,” Elias said, face turning red.

“That’s my boy!” Thatcher clapped him on the shoulder.

“You're only 3 years older than me”

“And you're only a year older than Nils, who you claim as your ‘son,’ so shhh” he retorted, “so I assume you two talked about it after, actually knowing you two, that may not have happened,” Thatcher said as they checked out.

“Ha ha ha, yes we talked about it Douglas,” Elias said with an eye roll. “I just told her that I can’t do anything till I do something” he said as they got into the car again.

“What’s that “something” you have to do?” The goalie questioned.

“Talk to her older brother that may just kill me if I tell him so, I’m not too pumped about that.”

“Have you forgotten how much Brock loves you? You’re each other’s work husbands, I think if you tell him he’ll be shocked, but he’d be ok with it.”

“But you didn’t hear what Brock had said about his friend chad in high school! He beat him up and cut him out, I don’t want that to happen to me”

“Petey, if you feel as strongly as I think you feel about YNN then I think you have to tell her, or that would be an extreme disservice to you, her, and honestly my mental health, so you have some work to do.” He said as they finally walked into the Horvat house again.

“Yeah, Petey you have to work on some stuff, like your hair!” Brock quipped.

“Shut up, frat boy, not all of us can have a luscious flow like you.” Elias jabbed back, “oh hi, how’s my favorite person here? Is your tummy settled now, can I finally give you your new toy?”

“Yes, you can,” Bo says, handing his child off to the blonde Swede.

Elias took Gunnar down to the floor, where his new toy was, and played with him while talking in his baby voice, at some point Bo took a video and sent it to Holly, and also his insta story. But that’s ok, he loved his little ‘nephew,’ and honestly, his day couldn’t have gone better.

Tagist: @calgarycanuck @suffering-canucks-fan @2manytabsopen @lovethepreds @callllumhood @mellany1997 @yourlocalgranolagirl54 @all-time-fanatic @Fitnessfreak498 @mysoftboybowen @peachyotps @kale-makar @kentjohnsons @iwantahockeyhimbo @aeyyy-ohhhh @peteysimp @nhlindblom @mitchsmullet @dolphinahabsfan @starswin @heunderwoo @hockeymockeryandlove @peteysimp

[beauvibaby]

4 Times He Thought You Were Beautiful + 1 Time He Told You How He Felt

1.

You and Tyler were close, great friends, that’s what you told people, when they asked, and you always brushed off how they would look at you like you sprouted another head. “Y/N?” Tyler spoke, startling you as you focused on the movie, your head snapped towards him, along with Gerry’s who had his resting on your lap. “What?” You asked, blushing when your voice cracked. You had totally gotten sucked into the universe of the movie you were watching and hadn't even realized you started crying along with the main characters. "You alright?" He asked, softly nudging you with his shoulder. You nodded enthusiastically, "it was sad." You pouted, not noticing how his eyes lingered on your lips a little longer than a friends should. "Yeah, I guess." He teased, smiling down at the mop of your hair that was tied up, and now as you leaned into his side it hit him in the face. Tyler dramatically pushed it away, laughing when you whined at the action. "Ouch!" You gasped as he went to move his hand back but his finger was stuck in a small knot. "Oh shit, sorry!" He laughed, quickly figuring out how to get his finger out. He watched as you broke into a fit of giggles, trying to figure out how to fix your hair without it looking too messy. He wished he could tell you that no matter what you did you'd be the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

2.

"Y/N, would you stop, you look great." Tyler sighed as you kept adjusting the fabric hanging off your body, "you have to say that, you're the one forcing me to go to this stupid event!" You groaned, turnign to see him watching you. "I don't have to, friends don't lie, remember?" He pointed out, rolling his eyes when you adjusted his tie. "If you don't hurry, we're going to be late!" Jamie shouted down the hall, you jumped away from Tyler as if you were doing something wrong. You hid your blush with you lightly curled hair, scurrying out the door, "you look nice." Jamie complimented as you passed him in the doorway. "Not too bad yourself, Benn." You retorted, smiling as you approached Katie who was doing just like you had been, constantly smoothing out her dress.

"Man, when are you going to tell her?" Jamie quizzed his friend as they slowly walked down the hall towards the two talking ladies. "Soon." Tyler mumbled, "you've been saying that for months." Jamie responded, rolling his eyes, "listen, all I'm saying is if I was in your position with Katie, I'd be damned to let her go out like that and not tell her I was in love with her." "I'm not in love!" "Whatever you say."

3.

The knock on the door made you shoot up, practically running over there as you recognized it as Tyler's knock, you knew he'd ring the doorbell in a second and you didn't want to risk it waking up your finally sleeping 8 week old niece. You were babysitting, and not expecting company, it was only Tyler, he's seen you in worse than this oversized t-shirt and sleeping shorts. But still you hesitated, pushing your minor insecurities aside. "Don't you fucking touch that doorbell." You whisper shouted as you swung the door open, Tyler's hand froze, barely an inch away from the bell. "Uh, hello to you too." He mumbled, he took in your appearance, and his eyes landed a little low on your chest, surprising you. "You got a little something?" He pointed and you looked down turning bright pink as you noticed the spit up on your shirt. "I'm watching Laila tonight, remember, the wedding?" You whispered, stepping aside to let him in. He nodded, mouthing an "ohhh", "I finally get to meet her!" He cheered quietly, you laughed under your breath as he followed you aimlessly into the kitchen, you grabbed a paper towel, wetting it slightly and rubbing at the spit up, Tyler laughed watching you struggle to get it off. "You can go change, she'll be fine, if not I can handle her for a couple of minutes." He assured you, softly padding his way along to the living room where Laila slept soundly on the couch, her soft minky blanket draped over her little body, her arms up over her head. You stopped on your way to your bedroom, watching in awe as he looked down at the baby. She started to whine and your instincts came over you as you rushed over, picking her up before Tyler had time to react. “You didn't even change!” He groaned, arms crossed over his chest, “I can hold her, go.” He demanded, holding his arms out for the small girl. She stopped fussing the second you picked her up, you trusted him of course, but still looked at him with wide worried eyes when you handed her over. He eased your nerves, cradling her with both arms even though he really only needed one. “Go.” Tyler spoke again, sitting on the couch, the baby safely nestled in his chest. You took a mental picture before rushing off to your room to change into a clean shirt. 

“Your aunt is something else, isn't she?” Tyler whispered to the small girl, she simply stared up at him, “she really is, you’re gonna love her so much.” He spoke again, glancing over when he heard you coming down the hall. “Our secret.” He winked at the baby, who only gurgled in response. He couldn’t help but think you looked stunning even as you walked back in, basically the same outfit just a clean shirt, your hair a mess, no makeup, and your cheeks just the littlest bit flushed. 

4. 

Tyler would probably never tell you how he accidentally saw you in your bra and panties, he was impatiently waiting for you to finish getting ready to go out, you had just had another failed date. His treat was always taking you out, whatever you wanted, it was like a tradition, he always wished he’d just tell you how he felt, and then these could be your actual dates. But he wouldn't do it, especially not tonight as he froze in the hardly cracked door, hearing you sniffle, he felt like someone stabbed him straight in the heart, he closed one eye, being able to spot you through the door, you stood in front of your mirror. He watched you turn to the side, sucking your stomach in a little, running your hand over your side. He felt wrong watching you, but he couldn't bring himself to look away, and not because of how little you were wearing, but because he was hoping, praying, that you’d see something positive in yourself. He held his breath as you turned the other way, now facing the door, but you were too absorbed in nit picking your body to notice him. You stood on your tippy toes, adjusting your underwear as if it would make your butt just a little rounder, your hands toying with the straps of your bra, wishing everything sat a little tighter, but it didn't. Thats what you always told yourself, normally you were confident, Tyler had never seen you so unsure of yourself. In his defense he had met you when you were dancing drunkenly on a table in a bar, so you were full of confidence then, and it really set the tone for your friendship. Tyler wanted so badly to bust in there, and tell you how beautiful you were, to him, to anyone with eyes. He couldn't, he didn't, he slowly backed away, making his way to the living room, trying to push his sadness away. 

+ 1.

You were rushing down the halls, the sound of your heeled ankle boots sounding like you were slamming them. The words kept playing through your ears, “Number 91 Tyler Seguin, will not be returning to play tonight.” You knew your way around the arena like the back of your hand. The second you heard the words, Katie pushed you to your feet, Jamie meeting your eyes through the glass as you hauled ass, you knew it was a nasty check, head first into the boards, he didn't hop right up and you knew, something really had to be wrong. The security guard knew you so he didn't hesitate to step aside as you went rushing in, “Tyler?” You called softly, not wanting to startle him, he hummed in response, laid on the PT table, an arm over his eyes. “What’s the news?” You whispered, approaching him, lightly running your hand over his arm, he moved to uncover his eyes, blinking to adjust to the lights. “Concussion.” He sighed, you leaned over him slightly, tucking your loose hair behind your ears. “You scared me, Ty.” You admitted, biting the corner of your lip, looking away for a second as he looked up at you with a slightly dazed look. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, sitting up, you moved out of the way, grabbing his arm to steady him when he swayed a little. “Nice jersey, who got it for you?” He quipped, lightening the mood slowly. He toyed with the loose fabric hanging over your wrists. “Great guy, I think you’d like him.” You teased in return, he gave you a lopsided smile. “Y/N?” He grabbed your hands, and you looked down at them before up at him, “I need to tell you something, before the game is over and the boys ruin our moment.” He got your attention with his words, you frowned when you saw the hesitation in his eyes. You cupped his face for a moment, his hands went to your waist out of instinct. “Tyler, you can tell me anything, I promise.” You assured him, not being able to resist running your thumbs across his cheeks. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, “I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, you were happy his eyes were closed as you let a wide grin cover your face. He peaked one eye open to see your reaction, you didn't even have to ask for clarification. You knew what he meant. “I love you too, Tyler.” You laughed softly, easing his nerves. “Can I finally kiss you now?” He smirked, already knowing the answer. He pulled you in by the waist, the fabric of your Seguin jersey getting bunched together. Finally, you thought, finally you were kissing him, it was soft and slow, nothing was rushed it was a simple yet passionate kiss. That of course was interrupted by the boys whistling, “fuck off.” Tyler grumbled, hiding his face in your neck, you laughed softly, kissing the side of his head, you could get used to this. “You’re gorgeous, I’m so lucky.” He whispered, only you being able to hear it as the boys started talking all at once. “Tyler.” You sighed in return, your heart skipping a beat at his words. He shook his head, gripping you a little tighter, wishing he didn't have a concussion, and wishing the guys weren't in here. “I promise, you’re never going to feel like you’re not good enough again.” He leaned back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheeks before the guys could chirp him. Now you hid in his neck, careful not to bump his head with yours. “I know you saw me, a couple weeks ago, I heard you walking away from the door.” You whispered to him, he tensed slightly, “I’m sorry.” He admitted, you chastely kissed the skin of his neck. “It’s alright.” You assured him, “you just had to get a damn concussion tonight.” You added teasingly, “believe me, I’m angrier about it than you are.” He sighed, “you’ll just have to make it up to me, Seguin. The second you get cleared.” You smirked, getting a confidence boost when he gripped you a little tighter. “You can count on that, baby.”

taglist: @literarycharleton​ @thathockeygirl​

[ilyrafe]

𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇𝒇 ✧ 𝒘. 𝒎.

pairing: walter marshall x f!reader

warnings: none!

word count: 1,1k

you woke up suddenly, and the bed was still empty. the clock on your bedside table marked 2.15 in the morning. the sky was so dark, and it barely had any stars — for some reason, you took it as a bad sign. you put on your robe and went downstairs, only to find walter on the desk, with lots of paper and pictures around him. his gun was next to him (as always) and his laptop was on.

it wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him like that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. walter always overworked himself, and you didn’t know what else to do to make him get some rest and actually take a day off.

you approached his sleeping figure and brushed off a curl from his face, and thought for a moment. should you wake him up and tell him to go to bed, or let him rest? his back was going up and down steadily, along with his breathing. he was so deep in his sleep, you didn’t have the heart to wake him up. sure, he would wake up a little sore, but you could rub his back later. you put a blanket around him, closed his laptop, and organized the desk.

at this point, you were up and sleepless, so you just stayed on the couch, making him company.

walter marshall is a tough cookie. he’s moody, constantly angry, incredibly stubborn, and for some people, he’s fucking scary. he hates talking (let alone small talk), and when he hates something, it’s with deep passion. it’s like he has something inside of him, ready to explode at any time. he rarely smiles, rarely laughs. he’s grumpy in the morning, in the afternoon and in the evenings. he doesn’t let anyone in, has trust issues, hates to open up.

it’s just his way. when you first met him, you couldn’t imagine he was actually the love of your life. no one really knows when they meet the love of their lives, some people don’t even believe in this kind of stuff, but you do, and you were surprised when it dawned on you that walter marshall, that weathered cop that neved slept, was in fact the real thing for you.

it took you a long time to really get to know him, and he never ceased to surprise you. he has the most gentle eyes. and he loves with the same deep passion he hates. he loves his family and they’re his number one priority. his second priority is his job, which means he never puts himself first. he loves what he does, and because he’s got this great sense of justice, he’s great at it. he would do anything to protect his loved ones and people in need. he says faye is the most beautiful thing to ever happen to him. walter is a very sensible person, and because of that, he has a hard time trusting people and letting them in.

it was so unbelievably hard for walter to even accept he felt something for you. you wandered in his mind at all times; he caught himself feeling excited to see you and actually bothered that he hadn’t put more effort on his outfit. you were just so endearing, and charming. he didn’t even know when it happened, he just knew he had fallen for you. how could he not? you made him feel safe, loved and cared about. he felt at ease, light as a feather around you.

“you look like you wanna tell me something, but don’t know how.” you said with a little smirk before sipping on your wine.

walter chuckled timidly, looking down, hating that he gave it away so easy. he had his arms crossed over his chest, his leg wouldn’t stop moving, and he was bitting the inner corner of his mouth — his body language said it all. he was nervous.

“it’s not that i don’t know how to. i just think it’ll scare you away.”

“you’re gonna have to tell me to find out.”

“okay.” he chuckled. “i’m divorced and i have a teenage daughter.”

walter felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his back, but unlike you, he couldn’t read you. after a few seconds, you took another sip of your wine.

“alright. and what’s the thing that would ‘scare me away’?”

that’s when he knew he had to keep you.

walter woke up feeling weirdly well rested. it didn’t take him too long to realize he had slept more than four hours. he noticed his desk was organized and he had a blanked on him. he looked around and saw you asleep on the couch.

he stretched his body and felt an immediate sensation of relaxation. maybe sleeping more hours weren’t that bad. he went to the kitchen and made some coffee, because he needed to continue his work.

you heard some noise and it woke you up. your first sight was walter on the kitchen, preparing something. you got up and walked towards him. very softly you wrapped your arms around him and kissed his shoulder. he smiled when he felt you around him.

“did i wake you up?” he asked, turning around to see you.

“kinda. but that’s okay.” he leaned down to kiss your forehead, and you tightened the hug.

“i gotta go back to work.” he mumbled against your skin.

“no, you don’t.” you ordered, changing your tone. “today’s your day off and i will not have you overworking yourself.”

walter just sighed. he didn’t have the strength to argue because he was still tired.

“okay.”

“no, walter! you will- wait, what?” you frowned and he chuckled.

“you’re right. i’m fucking tired, and i’m gonna go to bed.”

“oh.”

“what?”

“you’re not... arguing back. that’s so unlike you.”

“don’t get used to it.” he mumbled and sipped on his coffee. he leaned down again, now to kiss your lips. “let’s eat something first.”

you both made breakfast and ate together, in silence. he liked that you took care of him, that he was special to you. he noticed the things you did, he just wouldn’t say. soon you both were laying on the bed. walter had taken a well deserved shower and was fast asleep next to you. you propped yourself on one elbow and watched him sleep. he seemed to be so peaceful and relaxed, it made you feel calm. you smiled at him, even though he couldn’t see it, and placed a kiss on the corner of his lips, before laying your head on his pillow and closing your eyes.

[sweetchup]

Thanks for the last question! c: 💞 I Also love those two little spiders, they are just cinamon rolls; could you do some Hcs about that scenario? (Sorry, I don't know if I made the request in the right way, I'm a little stupid 😅💔)

“Family” Scenario General Headcanons

Oh you’re not stupid! Trust me I get confused all the time, you should see me during class. Here’s an example for future reference. Ex: Hello! Can I have a Headcanon about what the two sons from your Chrollo fanfic Family think of the troupe? Or Hi Do the boys from Family know that the reader isn’t their real mother?

Yay.... Perfect Family. Two Head spiders, Two itsy bitsy spiders and 12 Aunty and Uncle Leg Spiders that creates an amazing 16 person huge crazy family.

This will all seem super crazy to you. You had expected to be fighting for the boys from Chrollo grasps or, at the very least, forced to come up with some visiting plans to allow him to visit. But, this? The fact that you and your sons are now on the road with the troupe, the other members are now aunts and uncle spiders, Chrollo, your sister’s ex, is now your Husband and Chrollo is trying to get you pregnant.

It also didn’t help that you soon come to find out that Chrollo has been watching you all for 2 years before showing up. He even has pictures of moments of you and the boys such as them opening presents on Christmas and you all going trick or treating. Major creepy vibes. So, you basically wanna just get away with your sons from these psychos as quick as possible.

But, escape plans aren’t going to work out for you since Chrollo has full intentions on having you stay and making you fall in love with him.

So he comes up with a plan that has Kao and August each choose 6 uncles/aunty spiders to go train with and learn Nen off in the world. The boy’s first adventure! Yay... but that allows you two to be left all alone.

So, you’ll be forced to be locked in a room with only your basic needs. The fact you were chained to the bed made it easier for Chrollo to make love to you and isolate you until you experience harsh signs stolkhome syndrome.

Well....., that’s what you imagined he would do.

Chrollo actually wants your real affection, he knows stolkhome syndrome will likely take a small toll in making you fall in love with him but he wants to still try to make it as natural as possible. After all, he has spent the past 2 years watching you all from afar you all being a happy family. It makes his heart clench and his stomach turn every time he has to leave. But, he knew he had to wait. He had to wait until the troupe knew they could trust the new number 4 and 8.

So, while the boys are gone, Chrollo actually ends up taking you out on real dates, to intresting places and attempts to talk to you like an equal. The public would actually end up seeing you two as a michevious and bickering young married couple instead of the actual dark true side of the situation.

Chrollo isn’t in any rush on making you fall in love with him either. He has plenty of time. After all, learning Nen can take a long time, about 6 months to a year for the basics.

Though, even with all this nice things, this doesn’t mean Chrollo is still not a manipulative asshole. He still in charge of this relationship and has no intentions on stopping “making love to you”. He fully intends on getting you pregnant with his third child even if you aren’t in love with him at that moment. Such a doting husband...

Also don’t worry about Kao and August. He’ll take you monthly for a week to see the boys and Machi is doing regular check ups on them. He can’t have his family getting hurt or falling apart can he.

Truly, even if you didn’t like the fact of the boys hanging out with the troupe. You couldn’t deny it was cute watching them interact with the boys. Especially when it came to August trying to play fight Uncle Uvogin or watch Kao sit and play video games on Uncle Shalnark’s lap.

Soon, no matter how much you didn’t want to, you eventually warm up to these psychopaths in about 6 months. You even realize you have felled hard for Mr. Edgelord himself, Chrollo. But, being so stubborn, you fully intended on not wanting to show it. You wouldn’t give up so easily.

Well... not exactly.

It was an early Sunday morning and you were sitting against the old cobblestone wall of the current hideout. The reason you were currently sitting against the cold ground was because you were carefully and slowly attempting to fix Kao’s favorite scarf. It had gotten ripped during his training with Feitan and Phinks so you were trying to get it fixed so he would no longer pout or glare at the two. It was honestly scary seeing Kao so unusually upset.

“Mommy! Mommy! Can me and Kao have Pizza for dinner tonight?” August yells as he and his brother come running over from their play spot. Stopping and looking up at the boys, you sigh. Pizza, again?

“Well, let’s check with your father, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure the boss finds it okay, (y/n)” Nobunaga chimes in from afar, yawning and stretching from his spot on a tilted pillar. Of course nobu chimes in on this, Pizza is one of his favorite too.

“Well, this is the third time this week the boys have had pizza, Nobunaga. Too much isn’t good.” Franklin says, weighing the options. Thank goodness you have members like Franklin and Pakunoda who think of the logical side of things instead of giving the boys whatever they want. You were honestly worried they were getting too spoil from their aunts and uncles.

“Aww but Uncle Franklin! it’s so gooooood~~” August exaggerates, stretching his arms as far as he could to show that its super good.

Small chuckling and giggles echo around the room from the troupe at the boy’s silliness. You really wished you could give it to them but you really knew it wouldn’t be good for them.

“No buts August. And Kao, don’t huff. I’m sure you remember all the stomach aches you’ve had from not eating the right foods.”

Kao blinks rapidly and looks worried at his stomach. Kao has always had a very sensitive stomach that causes him a lot of pain. At first you thought maybe he had something like a gluten or dairy allergy but, after taking him to the doctors, it was just he had a weird stomach. Kao was actually really good on staying away from the things that upset his stomach but, he hasn’t exactly learn that he shouldn’t be eating too much or too often of greasy food like pizza.

You pat your son’s head, giving him reassurance. “Don’t worry Kao. I’ll find something else you’ll eat if you are worried.”

Kao seemed happy by that answer as he huffs and wormed his way into your lap. You giggle at him, you have such a silly boy for a son. As soon as determined Kao is comfy, you go back to sewing his blanket.

“Mommmm can I please have pizza? Pretty please with a shiny on top?!”

You just shake your head and let out a small laugh. Stubborn August wants what he wants and he’ll contunie to try until he somehow gets it. Though thankfully he isn’t too greedy and you can usually pick out what he’ll want next.

Not looking up from your stitching, you yell for the twin’s father. He’s been sitting on his perch and not doing anything all day so let’s have him deal with this. “Chrollo!”

“Yes? What do you need, my loving wife?”

You snort and shake your head. He’s still at it with that ridiculous nickname. The twins always gag and groan at Chrollo’s yucky nicknames for you. Though, you can’t help but feel your face heat up at them.

“August wants Pizza for dinner.”

You hear Chrollo close his book “Only him? Isn’t this the third time this week too?”

“Well, I really don’t want Kao to eat pizza again this week due to his sensitive stomach. August is fine but, you know, it...”

Chrollo finishes for you. “...it doesn’t mean it’s healthy.”

“Exactly.”

“Well I agree with you on that. I think August should eat something else for dinner tonight.”

“Aww but dad!”

“August.” You warned, playfully glaring up at him. “There’s many different things for you to eat. I’m sure there’s something else you’ve really wanted to try?”

It’s silent for a moment in the abandon building as August thinks. He pokes his chin, a habit he does when he can’t remember or pronounce the name of something.

“Buuu... Bugoli? Bowlgoog....”

You allow him to try it out for a couple of times to see if he can get it. It’s better for him to try and figure it out by himself since it helps him learn and grow. Though, sometimes you do have to help him. No one gets it right all the time.

“Bulgolgi?”

“Yeah! Bulgogi! Bulgogi.... Bulgogi” August says it a couple of times to taste the new word. Probably trying to remember it for next time.

“Well then. I’m sure Feitan knows some really nice places and recipes around here for it.” You look over to Feitan for confirmation and he nods. You smile and give a small thank you before looking down at your other son. “Does Bulgogi sound good for you too, Kao?”

Kao blinks twice telling you a “yes”.

“Well that settles it then. Bulgogi it is.”

“Yay! Bulgogi!”

August runs off outside chanting Bulgogi. Kao wanting to go follow him, slips out of your lap and claps to his chant. The air in the room gets a lot more happier at the boys’ extra silliness and the other troupe members laugh and follow them outside as well. Wanting to see and play with the crazy itsy bitsy spiders.

You sigh at the boys’ antics but still go to stand up to join the others. Though, you notice something unusual. Chrollo wasn’t joining? This isn’t like him. He usually wants to see everything his itsy bitsy spiders are up to and will even sometimes join in on the fun.

“Chrollo?” You softly call out to the man up above and facing away from you. He turns his head at your call and looks down at you, waiting for you to continue. “You coming?”

“Ah yes I am. Were you—“

Chrollo cuts himself off with a hiss as he attempts to stand up. He’s able to move his body to a standing position but, unable to keep it any longer, he soon falls back down in pain.

You stood there in shock. Chrollo was injured? That’s never happened before. Well, atleast not anything major. What happened? Was he okay? Of course he’s not okay, he—

You cut your own thoughts off as you realize Chrollo was attempting to get up again. Quickly, you climb up the broken rumble to get to the higher area to stop him.

Finally, you reach him and grab onto his shoulders to get him to stop. “Hey. Shhh it’s okay. Here, just lean against me.”

Your coos and soft voice seem to work as you are able to make Chrollo lean against you. His back pressed against your chest and both of your pairs of legs tangled, as he heaves.

Slowly, you put a hand up to his forehead. It wasn’t that hot nor cold so he wasn’t running any sort of fever or chills.

“Hey. What’s wrong? What happened.”

“N-nothing. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look or sound fine, Chrollo. Did you get injured yesterday? I heard that was a pretty bad mission.”

It’s quiet as Chrollo doesn’t bother to answer you. For such a logical and bright leader man, he’s unusually very stubborn. You wonder if that’s where August gets it from. But, you need to find out what happened. If he can hardly stand that could possible mean he has something really wrong with his back or, worse, Spine.

“Chrollo. Can you please tell me what’s wrong?”

It’s silent again as you finish. Chrollo doesn’t bother to answer again. Letting out a soft sigh, you lay your chin on top of his head.

“Pleassssseeeee Chrooooooolllloooo.” You whine, making sure to specially exaggerate his name.

Chrollo doesn’t answer again. But, you wonder if he atleast has a small smile on his face. Actually, maybe trying to get him to ease up will be the best way to get him to talk to you.

“Chrrrrrrollllloooo Luuuuuuccilllllfferrrrr!” You whine causing your weird tone of voice to echo off the walls.

Nothing again. You guess you have to step it up a notch.

Bring up your hand you lightly knock on the side of Chrollo’s nogin. “Youuu whooo? Anybody home?”

No response but you, at the very least, get a small chuckle from him. Man, he’s so stubborn. Stubborn. Stubborn!! He’s glad you’re in a silly mood today or you would have just chose to smack him already.

“Hmmmmmmmm.”

You knit your brows in consentration. You were trying to think of a way to step it up from here to make him crack. But, how... what would get him to talk no matter what.

Oh! You could always...

Your face heats up at your train of thought. Was it really the best idea to finally admit your feelings for him? You honestly didn’t think so. Though, there were no reprocrusions for doing so.

“Awwww. Chrollo ain’t home. I really wanted to tell him something!”

Chrollo doesn’t do anything but you know, from experience, that he was definetly curious and was thinking intently on what you possibly wanted to say.

“Welp, I guess I’ll leave a message then. Dear, Chrollo Lucilfer.” You change to bubble voice as if you were writing a letter. “I wanna let you know that...”

You take a gulp due to you being nervous about what you were about to say next.

“... I love you. I really do and I’m not saying that to get you to talk. Or to get you to—“

You cut yourself off as Chrollo moves his head and presses a kiss to your neck. It wasn’t sexual. You could tell he kissed your neck, of all places, because he couldn’t reach to kiss your lips or cheek.

Slowly and Carefully, You move so you two were now face to face. You breath hitches as Chrollo puts his forehead against yours.

“Say it again. Tell me that my darling wife loves me.”

“I love you, Chrollo. I love you with all my heart.”

Finally, Chrollo impatiently leans in to capture your lips with his. You could tell based on the pure passion and need of the kiss that he had been waiting so long for this moment. The moment you would finally tell him you were actually his.

You two slowly pull away, not wanting to stop, but having to due to a stupid thing known as air. Your heart flutters at his next words and the small smile on his face.

“I love you too, (y/n).”

Flustered and face beat red, you attempt to hide your face in the fur of his jacket. You couldn’t help but finally get flustered at all this lovey dovey and fluffy stuff.

“Don’t tell me your embarrassed by just 5 words. I’m sure you remember the worse things we’ve done together?”

Never mind. Moment officially ruined. Damn it...., why did you have to fall for him again?

“Well, you still have to answer my question Chrollo. What happened?”

“You are doing the same as me. You avoided answering mine.”

“No, That isn’t even a question.”

“Sure it is. Not everything has to be answered in what, who, where, ho—“

“Please don’t go off on another rant.”

“Just admit that I’m in the right, my wife, and I won’t try to continue.”

“Right about what? The fact you don’t have to tell me you are in pain?”

“Not exactly. But, you have to follow what I, your husband, says. It’s in your best interests after all.”

“Yeah right. Exactly when has that actually happened?”

“Well, My suggestion of using a plug to keep my semen in has proven very effective so far. We are going to the doctors tomorrow after all to check if you are pregnant. It also was very helpful —“

“Chrolloooooo! Stop rambling!”

[mrs-i-have-too-many-biases]

Bang Chan// Sun and Moon (-light)// Chapter seven

Summary: Sun and Moon, different from another, but both unmissable in the world. The sun is warm, it provides daylight. It represents life, strength and growth. The moon, the brightest and largest object in our night sky. It makes the earth more liveable and represents admiration, change, mystery and feelings. The sun is untouchable and unreachable, but what if his ,independent, sun(-shine) becomes his world? Tropes: Enemies to Lovers Season: Spring Pairing: Bang Chan X Reader (ft. Seo Changbin) AU: | Delinquent!Female Reader | Vice President!Bang Chan | School!AU | Non!Idol AU | Genre: Fluff/ HEAVY Angst Word Count: 8,9K Warnings: HEAVY Themes of bullying, death threats, Themes of Abuse, swearing, insults, Anxiety, Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Self-hatred Requested: Yes, (Reference) A/n: For the sake of the fiction, Chan is a twat in the story (his mother is very unpleasant in the story/this chapter), but only for imagines/ fiction purposes only. We all know better than that. I have mentioned his real-life sibling’s names in this chapter/story. Please remember to not harass them.

Y/n was a little out of breath and her body hurt slightly as she entered Chan’s room. She sat down with a sigh, trying to take the situation in. “I’m so sorry I told my parents like that-“ “It’s okay, it probably will clear up some thing to them.” Y/n muttered as she made herself comfortable on his bed.

“I’m sorry for their behaviour, from before and about today.” “It’s okay, you know if you want me to go, I can go right now. I don’t want there to be a conflict between your parents and you because of me.” “There isn’t, really. Well at least not anymore. I just want them to see that you’re so much more than tattoos and a so called ‘delinquent image’.” Chan stressed as he sat down next to her. “Besides, you’re not leaving. I don’t trust you outside, especially not with all those fractures. God knows what you would be up to, going to work I bet and get back to working out. You need to get some rest and let me and the others help you.” He added. “You know that I’d be fine just on my own, don’t you Chan?” She said with a small smile. “I know, and that’s why I want to help you this time.”

Y/n was about to continue arguing against Chan, but something else seemed to catch her attention. Chan turned slowly around to see what she was looking at and noticed the pictures he had put up of them together. He immediately started to stutter out gibberish and frantically tried to hide them from Y/n sight, causing her to laugh at his flustered state.

“Oh my- It’s not what you think! I- fuck!” Chan stressed as he tried to slam the pictures off the shelves I panic, but he was quickly stopped by Y/n who held him by the arm as she laughed. “It’s fine, I’m just surprised. I’ve never seen those before?” She wondered with a smug look on her face. “I-I certainly do not hide them whenever you would’ve come over- what no?” He stuttered, making her burst out in laughter yet again. “You’re cute Channie.” She said with a smile, not admitting that she had pictures printed out of them together as well.

The two were interrupted hours later by Chan’s father who peeped his head through the doorway. “Dinner’s ready.” He announced, before disappearing again. Chan and Y/n quickly following behind.

Chan noticed the nervous look on Y/n face. He held her by the waist in a swift move, hugging her in a comforting way, her heart beating loudly at the sudden action. The whole family sat together, and Y/n couldn’t deny it, but it was awkward as hell. “Y/n, my husband and I want to apologise to you.” Chan’s mother voiced, breaking the silence finally. “We’ve acted needlessly rude to you and we truly regret out immature actions. I hope you can find a way to forgive us?”

“It’s okay Misses Bang. I know that you only want the best for you son. I understand and I respect that. It’s also that I’m quite used to being judged already. Especially since people don’t know my background story...” And so Y/n told the Bang family everything.

They were shocked and saddened to hear the words leaving her mouth. It all sounded like a terrible nightmare. But that terrible nightmare was her actual life, or at least was up to that day when Chan found her.

“I can’t thank him enough for finding me, I wouldn’t know what would’ve happened to me if he would’ve been later or not there at all.” Y/n muttered in a sad voice. “Let’s be glad that didn’t happen and celebrate that you’re still here with us. And Y/n, we are once again terribly sorry. We will try our best to make it up to you.” Chan’s father states with a kind smile, making her smile back.

A warm feeling was filling her body, a loving sense of family had returned to her. Something that had been long for too long.

“Chan really, I can carry my books myself.” Y/n whined as she stepped out of the car with Chan, chasing him as he carried two heavy bookbags in his arms. “No, the doctor told us crystal clear that you need someone to help you carry things. Your stiches could rip open if you aren’t careful.” Chan states seriously. She let out a whine before she followed him to the building.

The pair received lots of looks from other students. Bang Chan, the popular vice president hanging out with the delinquent, again? People just couldn’t seem to wrap their heads around it. They also couldn’t seem to keep their butts out of other people’s business. Minho had met up with Chan and Y/n in front of the school, where he had already complained about how many people had already run up to him, asking what the deal was between Chan and Y/n, because a poor student was thinking about confessing her love to Chan this week.

“Poor girl.” Y/n muttered. “I know right, Chan has always been ‘smothered’ with confessions, yet he never accepted one.” Minho had informed before getting a notebook thrown to his face in middle of class by Chan who sat right in front of him. Jisung laughed loudly, Y/n did as well as she watched the three from her usual spot in the back.

Sooyun just happened to walk into the room at the wrong, yet best, time. She was about to sit next to Chan, where she usually sat, but to her surprise he stood up.

“You two are annoying, I’m going to sit with Y/n, at least she’s nice to be around with.” He playfully huffs to Minho and Jisung before seating himself in the back.

Sooyun watched his movements like a hawk eyeing its prey. She was about to protest and get him sit back next to her, but Jisung had grabbed her by the hand and pulled her down to her seat, stopping her from doing so. She huffs and turns herself away from them. Her ears caught the sound of Y/n and Chan laughing together in the back of the classroom, talking about whatever. Jealousy rose back into her body as she clenched her fists in anger. She had to do something about this, but what?

Days at school went by and to Y/n’s surprise, people had started to feel for her. She didn’t know why. She had told her story to the principal, explaining why she often skipped school and why she missed classes the past few weeks. There was a promise that her story wouldn’t be made public among the students of other teachers, for Y/n’s privacy and safety purposes.

Eventually Y/n figured that the fellow students were probably nice to her, because Chan and his whole clique were. So, she must’ve become ‘okay’ in their eyes.

There still were a few rotten apples to be found in between the others. They made Y/n out to be a clout chaser, that she wanted popularity or something like’s Chan’s status, his money. People had become quite creative and even said that she apparently wanted to become Chan so she could live a life where people actually liked her.

Y/n ignored the comments and never said anything about them. Especially since she believed that Chan had neve heard them, yet he did. He would look to his side as the whispers kept on going. She smiled at him and shot him a wink, a sign that she was okay. He wondered how she did it. How she handled with such people. It broke his heart to think that she used him. He knew she didn’t.

He wished they would had made an agreement, whenever she would argue that she could just go and stop bothering him, he would receive a thousand won from her. Chan would’ve been even richer by now if that was the deal.

In the meantime Chan wasn’t the only one who kept staring at Y/n, wondering how she did it. Sooyun could’ve been a character in Shrek by now, the green toxic tinting her from jealousy. She had enough of it. Y/n’s sudden gain of popularity, Chan’s attention and everything else she had been working years on to achieve. And here Y/n was, snatching it all away from her within days.

And so, suddenly. Y/n’s life turned upside down, once again. Y/n would walk into the school one day and receive the old nasty stares from everyone again. People bumped into her intentionally, making her hiss in pain, her body still not being completely healed. Chan yelled after them, the quickly asking if she was okay. “I’m fine.” She would mutter back. When they entered the room, a bunch of girls would pull Chan away from Y/n, leaving the both stunned. “What are you doing? Get off me.” Chan glared as he tried to shake the girls’ hands off. “Chan, you need to stay away from her.” “She’s not who you think she is.” The other cried out as they continued to pull them further away from Y/n.

“What are you talking about?” Y/n sighed as she crossed her arms, still in pain. “Don’t act so innocent bitch. You know fully well what you did.” A girl said as she shoved her phone in Y/n’s face. There was a news video playing on her screen. The colour seemed to leave Y/n’s skin as she watched how a journalist talked about her life, her story with her father. She was exposed, but something wasn’t right.

‘… we’re informed from a secured source, that y/l/n, a y/age girl, has drinking problems, abused her father and even thrown him in rehab when she should’ve been the one needing detoxifying…’

“They changed the story. That’s not true-“ Y/n was cut off by the pictures she was shown, also shown in the video that was still playing. They were pictures of her father, bruises all over his body and passed out on the ground. Y/n had seen her father drunk plenty of times, when he was drunk, he could easily hurt himself. She remembered that day, but she just couldn’t figure out how that picture was taken.

“How did this happen.” Y/n murmured to herself in shock. “Just admit it, your true colours are out. We’ve always known that you were nothing but a dense delinquent.” The girl spat, a sly smirk following next. “You know nothing.” Y/n snarled back, stepping closer to the girl. “What were you going to do? Hit me? I think it would be a great addition to your abuse-story, make people hate you more than they already do.” The same girl snarled, a witch-like laugh following.

Y/n turned to Chan in panic, but he was still struggling to get the girls off him.

As soon as Y/n had stepped out of the classroom she was once again swarmed by girls who were ready to protect Chan from her.

Their filth were getting to her head and the boys eventually came into the picture to defend her, but no one seemed to believe them or her. “She must’ve been lying to all of you, it’s all over the news. Every drama channel is talking about it as well.” “This is absurd, you believe those rumours, but not the person who the story is actually about?” “Why should we believe her lies? She’s dysfunctional, she always has been. Besides Sooyun told us that Chan told her himself.”

The words made Y/n’s head take a toll. “He did what now?” Y/n hissed anger firing up her heart. “Oh, please. Don’t pretend you didn’t know. You probably did all of this to get attention, didn’t you? To get Chan to like you and his little friends, well believe us it didn’t work. It’s for the best that Chan has put you back in your place, you’re an awful human being, you shouldn’t be allowed to walk around on earth. You’re not even fucking worthy to be breathing the same air as us-“ Y/n quickly pushed the girls aside when Sooyun was locked into her vision. “You! What the fuck did you do!” Y/n yelled as she stormed her way to Sooyun. “I didn’t do anything.” She said with a wicked smile. Y/n was holding back her tears as she wanted to rip that devilish smile off her face.

Felix would try to calm Y/n down, but he couldn’t stop her from talking as she yelled at Sooyun. “Y/n, sweetheart, here you are blaming me, but aren’t you the one who told Chan everything? He’s the one who gave me the information. How else would people know. You sure as hell didn’t tell me in person.” Sooyun states, which sets Y/n to think. It couldn’t have been Changbin, he didn’t know Sooyun. She didn’t tell Felix, Minho and Jisung anything with deep detail, yet Chan knew everything about her. There were even pictures taken of her passed out father. It seemed too bad to be true. It couldn’t be, right?

To Chan’s inconvenience, he walked right into the conversation at the wrong time. He looked at the two girls in confusion as he was stared at by the both. “Chan, did you…” Y/n couldn’t seem to get the words past her throat, but Sooyun seemed glad to steal the words from her mouth. “Chan, you were the cause of all of this, weren’t you?” Sooyun states, making him shot his head towards her in shock and confusion. “N-no, what are you talking about- Y/n I would never-“ “How do people know about all of this then? It’s told into detail, things I haven’t even told Changbin were exposed in that fucking clip. Explain that! I can’t believe this-“ Y/n cried out in frustration, feeling stupid for ever trusting him at all. “I should’ve known better.” “I’m sorry to say this Y/n, but Chan never seemed to actually care about you.” Sooyun snarled.

“Haven’t you said enough.” Y/n hissed to the girl in front of her. “I’m just saying, Chan never stood up for you whenever someone talked trash about you. We went on dates together and the things he said about you weren’t pretty-“ “Hold on- I never said anything-“ “But you never argued against them either, if you really cared about that poor girl, you would’ve defended her, wouldn’t you?” She said, trying to hold back a smirk as everything seemed to go just as she wished. “Y/n, please, don’t believe her.” Chan begged. “No, she’s right. Months ago, you wouldn’t even look at me, why would you now. I can’t believe how foolish I am to believe you.” Y/n sighed, she felt betrayed and just couldn’t look him in the eye right now.

She quickened her pace and ran out of the building, Chan was about to follow her, wanting to set things right, because this sure as hell wasn’t. He was held back by the same girls, who tried to make him seem that she wasn’t worth it and whatever filth they were trying to fill his mind with.

Y/n had been running for over thirty minutes by now, her hood covering her face as she made her way across the city. Her bones hurt, her arms felt like they were being ripped open as she rushed through the crowd, bumping into people constantly and receiving dirty looks from them as she ran past them.

She didn’t know if it was because they might had seen the video, or if they already knew her by her old reputation. Y/n finally made it to the parlour and stormed inside, completely ignoring Hyunjin who looked at her shocked when he saw he walk in. “Y/n, where’s Chan? Shouldn’t you be at school- what’s wrong? Are you crying- Y/n!” He called after her as paced to Changbin’s wing of the parlour. He jumped in surprise when he heart the curtains being ripped open. The smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw Y/n’s broken state and he rushed to her side to hold her close but carefully.

Her body being like glass to him that had been shattered too many times, put back together and on the edge of being broken again.

“…I never should’ve trusted him.” Changbin understood in-between the sobs that came from Y/n. “Who? Who hurt you? What’s going on? Why aren’t you with Chan? What happened?” Changbin had held Y/n face into his hands as she kept on crying, the tears rolling over his tattooed hands. Y/n murmured in-between her cries the explanation of what happened at school earlier.

Changbin was furious, he was planning of giving Chan a piece of his mind, he didn’t care that he was at school or at home, this was just sick. But for now, he needed Y/n to calm down. He felt her heart racing through her chest as he held her close. He sat her down and hugged her as she rubbed her back. The pain she must be feeling right now were probably unbearable, so he sussed her to sleep and asked Hyunjin to keep an eye on her as he went out to look for Chan.

Changbin didn’t had to look for long to find Chan as he was at home. Changbin rather punched the door than knocked, before the door swung open. “Bin! I’m so glad you’re here! I can’t find Y/n, I’ve looked everywhere-“ Chan was cut off by a punch that was thrown to his jaw and he stumbled back into his apartment. Changbin followed him in and grabbed him by the collar before throwing another punch to his ‘friend’s’ face. “What was that for!” “Who the fuck do you think you are Bang Chan! What is your bloody deal?” Changbin yelled as he shook Chan in anger, still holding him by the collar. “She went to you, didn’t she?” Chan asked, feeling slightly relieved.

“She did, and I’m glad she did. She came to me crying after all this time. Do you know when the last time was when I saw her cry?” Changbin snarled. “Never, because I don’t make her cry Bang.” “Listen! It’s not what you think! I’m being set up!” Chan cried out. “Sure you are, is this why you want Y/n to be with you these past few weeks. You never like her anyway. Y/n always complained about this vice president who just couldn’t stop harassing her with harsh words and nasty looks. Why should I believe you? I bet you wanted to ruin her all along-“ “I never- no, no! That’s not true!” Chan yelled.

“There’s no reason why I should believe you over the girl who has come crying to me, spilling her heart out on how everyone hates her again.” The fight went on for longer, they exchanged punches and eventually they were panting as they stood in front of each other again, yelling at one another with a black eye and bleeding lips.

“And who the fuck do you think you are! You act like you’re the only who cares about her!” Chan yells. “Well I do care about! I actually do and I show it! I have her trust unlike you!” “What do you think you’re her boyfriend or something?” Chan yelled. “Why do you care? Are you in love with her or something?” Changbin snarled back, leaving Chan stunned in silence.

The silence said enough for Changbin to figure out how it is. “What, you think you can fucking do this and confess your love to her right after-“ “I told you already that I’m being set up!” Chan yells in anger. “Sure buddy, at least she trusts me. You know she does. She comes back running to me every time you mess up. And how many times have that been by now?”

Chan was still panting, but he didn’t know what else to say. He messed up a lot. He wanted to make everything right, but this just made everything worse than it should be, he didn’t understand how this all happened anyway. His mind was blurry and he was confused, because he had his priorities set on Y/n.

“Changbin please-“ “Do you really think I will bring you to her? To break her heart once again after you had your way with it. To ‘confess’ to her and play games with her mind again. I thought not so, buddy.” “Changbin please, I do-“ “I bet I could confess to her right now and she would be with me. I’ve been her friend for the longest time, my parents already thought it would be time for us to step it up. People already think we’re a couple, why not put the title on our relationship?” Changbin snarled.

“Maybe, I should just confess my love to her.” Changbin added as he almost threatened Chan.

Chan felt his heart break and he dropped down on his knees. The tears were flowing down his cheeks and soon past his fingers as he hid his face in his hands. “Bin, please. I love her so much. My heart is in constant pain because of her. Not because she hurts me, but because she has been so good to me. She’s so different, so special. I-I don’t know how to describe it. She’s breath-taking, she’s so much more I could ever wish for in someone. My parents want me to be with a snob rich kid, who only cares about her reputation and the numbers on her bank account. They want me to think about my status and push my feelings aside. I can’t help it Bin, I love her. I love her so much. The past month I’ve felt so free with her. She has no expectations for me, she doesn’t expect me to pay for everything. She always fought me whenever I did, she’d argue with me that she could buy things herself, because ‘she’s an independent woman’.” Chan chuckles as he leaned back on the couch behind him.

“My parents don’t like her, because they can’t see past her appearance. It’s sad. They don’t experience, they don’t see the beauty that she carries. She’s so kind, she’s funny, she makes my heart race and make me do dumb things. Like, skipping school to go on a trip. I have to say that it was the best day of my life, that’s for sure. I’m just an idiot for being such a fool.” Chan cried out.  

Changbin sighed as well and sat down next to Chan. “I had a feeling you might’ve been in love with her.” Changbin admitted. Chan looked surprised to his side and eyed Changbin, who ended up bursting into laughter. “If you keep asking about her, then you aren’t playing it off to well mate.” Changbin chuckled, causing Chan to blush.

“Let me tell you another thing about Y/n. You’ve got to know her well up until now and apparently you did a pretty good job doing it since she opened up to you. If you want her to like you, the way you like her. Just be there for her and support her through her hardships.” Changbin’s words causes Chan to burst out in tears again. “I tried! But I keep messing up. I fucked up so many times, where I knew I should’ve been there for her or should’ve stood up for her, but I didn’t.” Chan cried out.

Changbin sighed and got back on his feet. He offered his friend a hand and Chan smiled as he took it. A couple minutes later, they were cleaning their wounds and kept talking together. “Chan, how did you end up in this mess?” Changbin asked softly. “I don’t know man, first thing I know is that I was smiling and laughing with Y/n, then next thing I know. I’m being ripped away from her by some other kids and following that, Y/n running away from the scene.” Chan sighed. “Y/n is really worn off, she ran all the way from school to my parlour. Eyes red from crying and in a lot of pain, I thought her wounds weren’t healed yet.” Changbin states. “They aren’t.” Chan cried out in frustration, guilt and sadness taking over his body.

The boys were interrupted by Changbin’s phone, Hyunjin had texted him. Saying that he had brough Y/n to Changbin’s apartment due to her request.

Chan read along with Changbin and was glad that Y/n was safe.

Changbin sighed once again after pulling his hoodie back over his head, done with cleaning his wounds. “You need to fix this, I don’t know how or where to start, but you need to.” Changbin states. “I know.” Chan let out a whimper, feeling like crying again. “Hey, it will be alright. I’ll make sure she’s okay and I’ll help you figure this out.” Changbin promises. “Really? Aren’t you mad at me?” “I am still a little fired up, but something isn’t right. I can feel it. Besides, I can tell you truly feel for her, I appreciate that you opened up to me.” Changbin voiced in honesty. “So, you aren’t going to…” “No, I’m not going to confess. I was just furious in the moment. I’m sorry.” “No, I am. Thank you Bin.”

When Changbin arrived home, he went to look for Y/n. He panicked a little when he didn’t find her in her room. He ran to his own room, only to find Y/n sound asleep on his bed, Gyu tightly wrapped in her arms. He sighed in relieve and went to lay next to her.

A couple days later, Chan went out for a walk. His jaw still hurt from the punch, he well deservingly, got from Changbin the other day. It was already late and it started to get dark outside. Chan mindlessly revisited the spot where he and Y/n had their first ‘date’ together.

Memories flashed beyond his eyes as he saw the exact spot where they took pictures together. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he remembered the way she laughed at his lame jokes, how she lit up when she ate his food and enjoyed each other’s company. He remembered holding her in his arms as they danced slowly in the middle of the park, not giving a damn if someone was watching.

His pleasant revisits of memories were cut off by the slurs of a drunken man who wandered around the park. Chan ignored the man, not wanting to be involved into any type of trouble. Unfortunately, the man thought otherwise.

He started to yell and shout around and eventually his eyes caught Chan and decided to stumble his way, rather quick, towards him. Chan noticed the bottle of liquor and a piece of paper in the man’s hand as he caught up to Chan. “You,” the man started. Chan wanted to gag by the disgusting smell of alcohol filling his sense that came from the man. “You look familiar kid.” The man slurred. “I’m sorry sir, I have no idea who you are.” Chan said quickly whilst his eyes looked for someone to help him, but no one seemed to be out at this hour.

“You! You’re this kid!” The man slurred out loudly as he waved a paper, which seemed like a picture, into Chan’s face. Chan’s heart dropped when he recognised the picture. It was a picture of him and Y/n from their first date. “Y-you’re Y/n’s father-“ “I sure as hell am! And you are the piece of shit who brought me into that hell hole! Taking my daughter away from me and daring to involve into our businesses!” The man screamed as he dropped the paper and filling his hand with the collar of Chan’s jacket.

“Sir, please I don’t want any trouble.” Chan begged. “Too bad buddy. You shouldn’t have interfered into our business. You should’ve left your stuck-up ass in one of your little penthouses.” Chan to get away from the man, before anything bad could happen. But Y/n’s father’s grip seemed to be stronger than he thought. “Sir, please let me go-“ “Nah, I have to show this rich city boy what the consequences are like when you ruin my life.”

Chan closed his eyes shut and prepared himself for what was coming, only remembering a piercing pain and darkness taking over him.

“Y/n, Y/n wake up.” Changbin yelled in a whisper as he shook her awake. She groaned in annoyance and pushed him off. “Just five more hours.” Y/n groaned as she hid her head under her pillow. “Y/n it’s an emergency, Chan’s in the hospital.” The words made Y/n shot up. She felt confused, because she didn’t know how to feel about him at the moment, but something inside of her told her to go. “Put on a hoodie and let’s go.”

Y/n and Changbin arrived at the hospital, only to see Chan’s parents and siblings in their pyjama’s as they waited nervously. Chan’s mother was hysterically crying, Lucas and Hannah were tiredly sitting back in their seat, pacing back and forth in anxiousness.

Y/n made eye contact with the mother who immediately pointed violently to her as she started to cry out to her. “You! This is your fault! You’re the reason he’s in the hospital isn’t it?” She yelled as she was being held back by her husband, who quickly argued against his wife alongside the kids. “Honey, this isn’t her fault. The doctor said Chan was attacked by a drunk man.” “D-do you perhaps know what he looked like?” Y/n asked carefully. “No, but he’s send back to rehab, apparently he escaped somehow.” Chan’s father explained, causing Y/n to stumble back. “Y/n, you don’t think that your…” Changbin whispered, not daring to finish his sentence. “I-I hope not. If he has found Chan, he could find me-“ “I wouldn’t let that happen Dumpling, you know that. You’re safe with me.” Changbin assured as he hugged her, whilst they all waited for the results from the doctor.

Which finally came in after forty minutes of waiting. Hannah and Lucas had fallen asleep, too tired from waiting since it was quite late already. “…your son will be fine mister and misses Bang. I do have to inform that he apparently has been hit by a glass bottle and is unconscious right now. We don’t know when he will wake up, but we are sure to keep a close eye on him. You can see him now, direct family first please.”

Y/n could hear the worried cries from his parents coming from the room as she and Changbin still waited. Changbin voiced that he felt guilty for beating his friend up. Y/n admitted that she didn’t know yet how to feel about Chan yet. If she even wanted to be there, especially after what Chan did to her. “Y/n, I understand that you have hard feeling towards him right now, but do consider that there is something wrong. Something just doesn’t add up.” Changbin states, setting Y/n to thinking.

Days had passed and Chan still hadn’t awakened from his unconscious state. She had seen how hard it had been for his parents and she truly hoped that Chan would wake up soon. Y/n also had been thinking about what Changbin had told her the other day, but it just makes her even more confused than that she already was.

‘He’s so nice, he has been for the past months, why would he do this?’ She questioned herself as she walked towards the hospital, wanting to visit Chan. ‘Chan hasn’t always been nice to me though, why would he become nice to me all of the sudden? Was it an act since he was forced to tutor me? Or did he actually mean everything he said- this better not be a fucking bet or I will throw him back into his hospital bed as soon as he’s able to leave it.’ Y/n growled in her mind as she now stomped her way to the hospital.

“Y/n, calm down. There must be something going on, like Binnie said.” She said to herself, before she took a deep breath and entered the building.

When Y/n arrived at Chan’s room, she wasn’t surprised to see his mother there. She had been staying there for the past couple days, not wanting to leave her oldest son alone, especially at a time of vulnerability. She shot Y/n a side eye when she entered the room.

“Hello misses Bang.” She said politely as she bowed for her. “Y/n.” She sighed as she focused on her son again. Y/n looked at the monitor that kept track of his heartbeats, which seemed mostly steady. “How is he doing?” Y/n tried to ask, but not receiving an answer from the woman in front of her.

Chan’s mother would sigh after a period of silence and turn herself to Y/n with a serious look on her face. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough.” She sighed, causing Y/n to become angry. “I’m sorry, but I’m tired of this. With all the respect, but you keep pretending as if this is all my fault, when you sure as hell know that it is not.” Y/n snapped. “If my son never interfered with you and your issues, none of this would’ve ever happened.” She cried out in frustration. “First of all, Chan and I were both forced together by our principal who made him tutor me. And besides that, don’t you think I know that. Because my drunken dad had to escape and somehow find Chan, he’s hurt. Don’t you think that I think this is all because of me? If you don’t you are pretty dense.” Y/n snarled.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” His mother said calmly as she took her son’s hand into hers. “Fine, I’ll go. But I just want to make sure that you know that, Chan means a lot to me. You’ve raised one hell of a son. He’s absolutely amazing. He’s sweet, caring, charming and humble. You re lucky to have a son like him. I know you don’t like me ma’am, I’m aware of it, but I love that guy. So much. I don’t even know what to do with my feelings since I know you would never accept me and my ‘issues’. Everything I’ve told you and your family is true ma’am and Chan helped me through a lot of them. And I love him for that, more that you could ever know.” Y/n said as tears stream down her face. Both of their faces turned to the monitor when Chan’s heart skipped a beat, before Y/n continued to rant.

“I know I’m not perfect and that I never will be, that’s why I respect your request and I’ll leave as soon as I’m done ranting, but just know this ma’am. There’s much more to me than the tattoos and old stories that belongs with my past. He was focused on who I am today and saw good in me. Something not a lot of people notice in me.”

Chan’s mother looked at Y/n stunned and surprised. She would’ve never guessed such meaningful words coming out of Y/n’s mouth. She gulped loudly and tried not to show how Y/n’s words had moved her to tears.

“I’ll get going then, goodbye ma’am.” Y/n whispered, before she bowed and left. Her heart aching as she just admitted to someone other than herself, her feelings for Chan.

During her rant the two women didn’t know Chan could hear everything the two said. He felt like he couldn’t move, his body was numb and uncontrollable. His heart sped up in panic when he heart her leaving.

Before she exited the room, he could make out a whisper. “No… stay…” His mother, who was now alone with him again in the room, shot her attention to her son, who also managed to squeezed the hand he was holding slightly. His mother thought he was talking to her, when in reality Chan was begging in his mind for Y/n to come back. For her to confess her love to him over and over again, that’s all he wanted to hear. He wanted to see her again, he wanted to tell her that he loved her too.

“Don’t worry Channie, I’m right here.” His mother said as she kissed her son’s hair. Chan was glad she was there, but all he wanted right now, was Y/n to be by his side.

His mother knew better though. She knew the words were meant for Y/n. She had observed her son and had of course seen the pictures of the two in Chan’s room when she went to bring him his freshly washed clothes. She was shocked at first to see her son and this trouble maker of a girl together, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She saw how happy her son seemed with Y/n. She has at least never seen pictures of Chan and Sooyun together in Chan’s room.

That was one of the moments where she realised that Y/n was something special that Chan was planning on keeping close to his heart. When Chan brought Y/n home almost every day, she started to feel scared and thought that her son might take things too fast and he should reconsider his other possibilities.

But it seemed like Chan had already made his choice. She brushed her son’s hair as she looked down at him and knew that he had it all figured out already.

Well, most of it.

After calling in sick for a week at school, she was now forced again to attend classes. And yet again, there were students blaming Y/n for Chan’s injuries and him ending up in the hospital. Y/n had been doing quite well with ignoring all of them.

“I’m surprised you aren’t put in jail yet. That’s where you belong.” “Don’t say that. You’re insulting the prisoners when you compare them to that.” Another girl said as she nodded toward Y/n, laughing annoyingly right after.

As Y/n had been continuing to go to school, everything seemed to go downhill for her. The three boys couldn’t seem to cheer her up. They did manage to make everyone back off and leave her alone, but it wasn’t enough for Y/n.

She looked so depressed and it broke their hearts. They were confused as well, but they knew this wasn’t the Y/n they had always known. The Y/n they knew was strong, independent and could shine as bright as the sun whenever she was happy or in her own habitat. The Y/n who sat in front of them was laying her hear on the table as it rested on her arm. Her glow seemed to be gone and they wanted nothing more than to fix it for her.

One day, Y/n would call in sick anyway, saying that her body still hurt too bad, making up the excuse or else the school wouldn’t let her stay in. Changbin didn’t know this and was surprised once again to see his best friend arrive at the parlour. Hyunjin noticed Y/n gloominess and called Changbin in as soon as he could.

Changbin’s heart broke and brought her to his wing where they could talk. Hyunjin decided to give the two some space and went out to do so. “What’s wrong?” Changbin asked carefully as he took her hands in his. “I-I can’t do this anymore Bin.” She sobbed in front of him, her body shaking from exhausting, not only physically but also mentally.

“W-what do you mean? Please Dumpling, talk to me.” Changbin’s voice was shaking in fear as he suspected the worse. “I don’t want to go on Bin, I can’t do this anymore. Everyone hates me. Everyone is against me and I’m ruined. Why does everyone hate me? Why always me? I hate myself so much Changbin. Chan is in the hospital because of me, my dad is in rehab and was probably looking for me. He hates me as well. Maybe I should listen to everyone and just-“

“Don’t you fucking say that!” Changbin yelled out as he stood up with tears streaming down his face as his heart broke, piece by piece. “But Bin-“ “No! I won’t let you. I will fucking end myself if you ever try to end your life! You don’t want that right?” “That’s just mean Bin.” She whispers whilst looking up to him with tears-filled eyes.

“And this isn’t? Think about how much pain I’d be in if you ever leave me. I was already in so much pain when I was in Japan and I couldn’t be with you. Fucking hell, I even hired Felix to keep an eye on you, because I needed to know how you really were. Please. I love you, you’re my best friend. I can’t live without you, you’re my better half, you’re my partner in crime and I can’t afford to lose you. Besides, I know there is someone, who I can’t name, but this person loves you so much. I can’t even explain how much this person loves you. Please Y/n, will you promise to stay?” Changbin cried out, causing Y/n to cry out as well.

Changbin sat down next to her and brought her into his arms as they cried their hearts out together, “I’m sorry Binnie.” She sobbed into his shoulder, hugging him tighter. “It’s alright Dumpling, you’re safe as long as you’re with me. And I promise you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Meanwhile, at the hospital Chan had finally awaken to everyone’s joy. He groaned out loudly when he opened his eyes for the first time in days. His head was pounding, his chest hurt and he felt a weird tube in his nose that he assumed was to feed him, so he wouldn’t die of hunger. He couldn’t remember much, everything seemed like a vague dream.

His mother would swaddle him as soon as the doctors said she could, after they had finished their check-ups. “Where’s Y/n?” He’d ask eventually. “Goodness dear, think about yourself for a second. You’re the one who’s hospitalized.” His mother argued as she tucked him in. “Mom, seriously, how is she.” When his mother chose to ignore him, he got mad. “Just forget about her Chan, think about your health.” She scoffs, only making Chan angrier. “No! I’m done with you and dad always deciding for me what to do or who to be!” His mother was surprised by her son’s reaction. “All my life you have been planning my future, not even giving me a chance to think or speak for myself! I’ve always pleased you! By winning all my competitions I attended, all my grades are better than others. You made my life an actual competition and I’m done with it! I get that you want me to think about myself, but from now on I’m done listening to you two. I have a voice of my own and I won’t let the two of you decide for me anymore. I’m a young adult for God’s sake!” Chan exclaimed in frustration.

“I get that you and dad are looking out for me, but once I fall in love with someone, I just feel like you want to ruin that for me. Because you want me to be with a shitty snob who only cares about money and her status. I have better things to do than think about the numbers on my bank account and how my hair looks. I want someone who’s interesting, who has a deep personality, someone I could talk to in the middle of the night about anything and everything.” Chan sighs as he sat back, looking away from his mother as he tried to calm down.

His mother knew her son was right and sighed as she tried to stroke his cheek in comfort. “We’ll talk about this at home, okay?” “No! Stop ignoring this! You know I’m right!” Chan yelled as he sat up. “Channie, please lay back down.” His mother almost begged. “All I’m asking was how she was! I get that you hate her, but just answer the bloody question. I already have no idea what the hell happened to me. I only know the things you all told me and I don’t know who to believe anymore! She hasn’t visited me at all and that might be my own fault, but she’s still healing mom. Someone needs to help her out. I just want to make sure she’s alright, okay.” Chan cried out.

His mother sighed and stood up and left the room for now, knowing Chan needed some time alone. She saw how upset he was, almost heartbroken that she hadn’t visited him. She couldn’t help but feel guilty for sending Y/n away every time she came to visit him.

Chan laid back in his bed and he felt like crying. He was just so worried about her. He couldn’t help it. Eventually Chan would realise that she would be safe at Changbin’s. He sighed and felt envious that he was able to be with Y/n, whilst he was stuck in his hospital bed. Chan would look to his side and pick up his phone before he scrolled through is gallery. Deciding to revisit the happy memories before he fell back asleep.

“Chan, Channie wake up there’s someone here to see you.” A familiar voice woke him up before he fully opened his eyes, unsurprisingly his mother came into his vision. Still feeling angry with her he turned away from her, causing her to sigh. “Fine, you don’t have to look at me. I guess I deserve that. But at least look at her when you talk to her.” She mutters, still pressing a kiss on her son’s hair through his protest.

Chan looked away from his mother to see Y/n standing at the end of his bed, a small smile plastered on her face as she looked at him. She looked better, still tired and a little bruised, but her wounds definitely healed well. Chan was startled at her presence and shot up in his bed. Feeling a little embarrassed as well since he probably looked like a mess. “I’ll be down in the cafeteria if you need me.” Chan’s mother states before she exited the room, leaving Chan and Y/n alone.

Chan tried to find the right words to say, but was quickly interrupted by the tears that suddenly flowed down Y/n’s face. “Hey, hey! What’s wrong?” Chan asks as he mentioned to her to sit beside him. “I’m sorry, none of this would’ve ever happened if-“ “No, don’t cry. This isn’t your fault.” Chan assured as he brought her in his arms. “But-“ “No buts, this isn’t your fault, none of this is. I’m fine Sunshine, I’m not going to lie, I missed you.” He chuckled, causing her to burst out in laughter as well as she tried to stop her crying.

“I missed you too.” She pulled away from him and caressed his cheeks as she looked at him. “Are you okay?” She asked him as she realised that she was actually with him in the hospital. “I am, don’t worry. I’ll be back on my feet in no time.” He chuckled as he leaned into her hand affectionately, also couldn’t help but feel like she was the cutest being in the world right now. “How have you been? Do your arms still hurt?” Chan asks as she inspected them. “They healed well. Felix and the others have helped out a lot. I owe them one, I promised them to make them something ‘scrumptious’ when everything calms down a little.” She said with an awkward chuckle, but was surprised to hear Chan burst out in laughter.

“Where did you get the word ‘scrumptious’ from?” He wheezed. “Trust me, ever since you’re gone, Jisung and Minho have been fighting on who is smarter and they had this vocabular battle. I picked up some of the words after laughing my ass off.” She giggled. “I’m glad they’re good to you.” Chan sighs in relief.

“I’m glad too.” Y/n said before the two sat in silence for a period of time, not later being broken by Y/n who nervously asked Chan what happened to her dad. “I heard that he was brought back to rehab, but a stricter one with more security and supervisors.” “I-I’m scared Chan, I know he was looking for me. I-I should’ve been more careful, you wouldn’t be in pain right now.” She cried again. “Don’t cry, you’re safe with me. I promise.” Chan whispers as he hugged her tight.

She relaxed into his touch and buried her face in the crook of his neck. He had his hands on both of her cheeks and she leaned into his touch, just like he did minutes ago. She was stunning to him, even if she had cried her eyes out only seconds before. Chan felt like he had to tell her, it was now or never. He sat up and leaned closely towards her as he kept staring deep into her eyes. “What?” She giggled in a whisper, feeling flustered by the sweet smile he was sending her.

Chan’s heart was racing, the words were on the tip of his tongue and he felt like he left his sanity and mind in cloud nine. “I like you.” He whispered. Y/n was taken back by his confession and leaned back in surprise, looking at him in expectation of him to tell her that he was joking. “What?” She asks him again. “I like you Y/n. I’ve had feelings for you for some time now.” He admitted with a smile plastered on his face.

Y/n’s heart was racing, but unfortunately not because she was happy. “Don’t say that. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” She stuttered, feeling her heart increasing beats per second. “What do you mean? Y/n-“ “I have to go.” She murmurs as she got off the bed, anxiety overtaking her esteem as she picked up her pace. 

A nurse had walked in the middle of the scene, obviously not knowing what was going on and was surprised when she saw Y/n run past her, out of the room. Chan was ready to jump out of bed and run after her, but the nurse had other plans. She ordered him to get back into bed since he wasn’t fully recovered yet and it could do major damage to his body.

In the cafeteria Chan’s mother spotted Y/n running through the building with tears streaming down her face. She got up and wanted to catch up to Y/n, but she was too quick and eventually disappeared in the crowd. She hurried to Chan’s room where she found her son crying. She asked him what happened and Chain explained through his sobs that he had confessed to Y/n. Chan felt heartbroken and confused. 

“I don’t get it mom, why would she react that way?” Chan sobbed softly as he looked at his mother with big, teary eyes. “I don’t know honey, maybe she’s scared. She has lost quite some loved ones already. She might be scared to have her beloved close in her life. We don’t know honey.” She mutters as she rubbed her son’s back.

Chan immediately felt a wave of guilt washing over him and started to cry out harder. “I should’ve been more sensitive. I didn’t realise that. I should’ve been more careful.” Chan cried. “There, there. Don’t worry love, the two of you will be fine. I know you will. Besides, you have always been caring, especially towards her. From what I’ve seen?” She chuckles. “She will turn by honey, trust me.” She added, before pressing another kiss on her son’s head.

She knew that Y/n felt the same way as the son did, but it wasn’t her job to tell him that.

Gif isn’t mine

[revengeoftheantichrist]

What Kind of Man

Warnings: Possessive behaviour

AO3  <<<Previous

Chapter 10: Letters

You were surprised at how hungry you were just from sitting for a portrait. Almost every hour you got up to stretch your legs and eat something.

Richard had finished the sketches and thumbnails by 7 pm, not needing you for anymore sittings. You had tried to catch a glimpse of the work, but Michael insisted that you only see the complete image once it was finished.

“Do you already have a portrait Michael?” you asked, curious as to why you didn’t get one together.

“I do, that’s why I wanted one of you to match, they’ll be put next to each other,” he smiled at you, kissing your hand.

Mrs Mead brought your dinner out, you ate it faster than Michael ate your cakes. You swallowed your last bite and wiped your lip, “Why didn’t we get one together?”.

“We will my love, in the spring where the flowers are staring to bloom, and the leaves are at their greenest. We’ll get one to symbolise new life then.”

You were satisfied with his answer, waiting on tea and cakes.

////

The next day, Michael had errands to run in the nearby town. It seemed that your own sickness had retuned, vomiting the contents of your stomach as soon as you had opened your eyes that morning. You must have eaten too much the day before. Despite the state you were in, you decided to go with him, wanting to see more of the county you were technically responsible for, you were a Countess after all.

The carriage ride wasn’t long, half-an-hour at most. The weather was clear, a cloudless sky above you. The townspeople seemed a little wary around your husband, stepping out of the way and avoiding eye contact. This troubled you. But then again, you knew nothing about the relationship between a Count and his people. You took in your surroundings as you walked towards the Langdon family’s Lawyer and Accountant, Mr Nutter and Mr Pfister. Your impression of the pair was not too great, vaguely remembering your awkward interaction at the midsummer ball. It seemed that their habit of leering hadn’t changed.

“It’s made our week now that you’ve brought your beautiful bride with you,” said Jeff.

“Don’t you both have children to get home to,” you spat back, not knowing what had come over you to speak in such a manner. Michael only laughed at your response, not giving any indication of being displeased at your sudden outburst.

He held out his wallet, “There’s a lovely market in the town square today, Jim will take you and I’ll come find you after I’m done,” he instructed.

You nodded and thanked him, taking the wallet. You did not want to spend any more time near those two.

You were greeted by Jim when you left the building. He started to lead the way to the market, and you got a closer look at his face.

“Jim? What happened to your eye?” you asked. The area around his eye was scarred, as if it had been burned. The eye itself was a dead white colour, it was no longer the blue ocean it used to be.

He turned his head away. “There was … an accident with a fire in the stables… I couldn’t turn away in time,” he explained.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore, I’m fine as long as I can still see out of the other,” he finished. You guessed he didn’t want to go any further. The sky seemed to cloud up at the end of your conversation.

You had arrived at the market. It was slightly bigger than the one your own village had; you missed it dearly. You smiled and said your ‘good afternoons’ getting lost in what the market had to offer.

You reached the flower stall, just wanting to take a look.

“I neve thought I’d be visited by the countess herself,” said the florist.

“Oh I hope I’m not intruding,” you replied. Small purple flowers caught your eye. You hadn’t seen them in the garden before.

“If I were you my Lady, I’d take some verbena flowers with me and keep them with me at all times.”

“I’ve never seen them before. What are they for?”

The florist looked around, before wrapping a bunch and holding them out to you. “They are said to protect from evil, you never know when you’ll encounter the devil,” he whispered.

You moved to pay him. “Please, these are a gift from me. I won’t take that man’s money. But My Lady, Please, get as far as you can,” the florist finished, quickly moving onto the next customer and leaving you confused.

You couldn’t give the interaction too much thought before Jim came to get you, leading you to the carriage where Michael was waiting.

“Out of all the things the market had to offer, you found the smallest flowers to waste my money on. They might as well be weeds,” Michael complained.

“Oh stop being childish, I like them, they’re delicate,” you chided.

“I hate the smell,” he scooted away from you. You just shook your head. The nausea from earlier beginning to creep up again.

////

You chose to spend the rest of your day in your old refuge, the library. The sky was grey, no longer the bright blue it had been earlier. You chose a few books to press your new flowers in, hoping to use them as a reference for your embroidery piece.

You liked to find a new nook or cranny to read in, preferring the comfort of a confined space. You found a space in the far corner of the library, bringing candles for when it inevitably got dark and your embroidery, to give you a variety of ways to spend the time.

You got settled into your seat, getting lost in the book. You moved to adjust your head, your neck getting sore from the position you were in. As you moved, you heard the wall ‘click’ behind you, your head abruptly falling back into a newly revealed alcove. What on earth was this?

You moved onto your knees to look behind you. A little piece if the wall had slid out, revealing a secret cavity in the wall. It was only as deep as the bookshelves that surrounded you. There was only one thing in there.

A small wooden box.

Why was it hidden in here?

You knew you wouldn’t be disturbed for another hour, so you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. Elizabeth’s words echoed in your head.

You pulled the box out. It was simple, no decoration or carving on it. There wasn’t even a lock. You slowly lifted the lid, holding your breath at what you may find. A look of confusion washed over you.

Envelopes.

It was a box full of envelopes.

Your fingers twitched and you pulled one out. The letter was addressed to ‘Madame Cordelia’ at ‘Académie Robichaux’ in Paris. You were more confused than you were before. The letter never reached its destination as it was still sealed. The wax seal matching the signet ring Michael had gifted to you, the same seal your letters were sent with.

Your hands shook as you opened the letter, dreading to see what you would find inside.

‘ Ms. Cordelia

Please, I beg of you. I need a reply. I need your help. How many more of these should I send for you to take me seriously, for you to stop ignoring me. You always asked what kind of man he was. We were wrong, I was wrong. He is no man. He is a monster, a beast. And he’ll kill me. Please please please send a priest for me. I fear I do not have much longer.

Madison’

Your breathing became erratic and you could taste the bile. You frantically looked through the box. All letters addressed to Robichaux. All unsealed. The handwriting getting more frantic on each envelope.

The last one was just addressed ‘Cordelia’. No address, no destination.

‘This is my final letter. I have lost too much blood. I will not survive the night. You cannot save me. Save the next one. He chants her name and spends hours with her picture, like a devotee at a temple, a fanatic. He said she will be successful. He’s hungrier than ever now, I can no longer satiate him. Saver her. Save Y/N

Madison’

You were in danger. You could feel it. You knew then that your own letters didn’t reach your mother.

You couldn’t dwell on it too long, the opening of the library door pulling you out of your thoughts. You scrambled to put the box away, sliding the façade back in place, hoping the click wasn’t loud enough to alert the intruder.

“My Lady? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

Next>>>

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

As the Rain Washes Away the Past

Stiles shaves his head and the pack teases him for it.

Commission for @icu-81-mi

“How much do you want me to shave off?” Erica asked, running her fingers through Stiles’ thick brown hair and smoothing out the soft locks to judge their length.

“All of it,” Stiles said quietly.

He sat on the counter of Derek’s newly-renovated laundry, dressed in an oversized t-shirt—one of Derek’s.

His dark eyes were distant, staring down at the grey slate tiles.

He swung his legs, heels gently thumping against the cupboard.

Erica paused, almost saddened by Stiles’ decision. “Are you sure?”

Stiles nodded slightly.

She let out a heavy sigh and gently ruffled Stiles’ hair affectionately, the way she had for years.

A small smile turned up the corner of Stiles lips as he let out a quiet chuckle, but the smile quickly faded.

“Okay,” Erica said, switching on the hair clippers—the loud buzz of the blades and the whirring motor filling Stiles’ ears. “Let’s do this.”

She brought the buzzing blades to the back of Stiles’ head, letting them glide through Stiles’ soft hair.

Stiles felt the blades glide through his hair, tufts of brown hair falling into his lap.

He felt his heart sink into his gut as he stared down at the strands of hair in his hands.

“What are you going to tell the others when they ask why you shaved your head?” Erica asked, her voice drawing him back to reality.

“I don’t know,” Stiles replied. “I’ll say I lost a bet or something.”

In his peripheral vision, he saw Erica nod thoughtfully.

“And the real reason?” she prompted.

Stiles shrugged half-heartedly.

“I just… felt like a change.”

“Right,” Erica said, finishing off the haircut and dusting Stiles down with a soft brush. “Okay, you finish cleaning yourself up and get changed.”

Stiles slid off the counter, running his hands over his shaved head, his heart sinking slightly at the feeling of his buzz cut.

He let out a measured sigh.

He shook out the large t-shirt and stripped it off over his head, tossing it into a wicker wash basket in the corner of the room.

He grabbed his black t-shirt from where he’d set it down earlier. It fit him a lot better, sitting properly on his broad shoulders and accentuating his strong biceps.

He had filled out over the years, growing confident enough to wear clothes that fit him a lot better.

He helped Erica clean up before heading towards the door to go join the others.

“Hey, Stiles,” Erica called after him.

He stopped in the doorway, turning to look back at her.

“No matter what the others say, you’re still very handsome,” she told him, offering him a kind smile.

Stiles smiled in return.

He turned, making his way down the hallway.

Derek had done a good job at restoring the house. The walls were covered in crisp white paint. A few of the support beams that framed the room had been replaced—the large beams weathered, scarred and stained in an effort to match the surviving beans that were burnt, black and distorted like the disfigured body of Atlas bowing beneath an unimaginable weight.

The house smelt of sweet dew and crisp pine trees, tainted by the smell of ash that never seemed to fade.

There were scattered signs of history and new life mingling among the ruins. There were pieces of furniture that had been restores or salvaged, wooden tables with charred legs and warped paint like scars. The walls of the hallways were lined with photos of the Hale family, pictures that Stiles and the pack had helped Derek track down—and new photos; photos of the pack.

Two large windows framed the front door, morning light streaming through them and illuminating the angelic swirl of the sparking particles of dust.

He followed the sound of voices down the hallway to where the rest of the pack was gathered in the living room.

There were two large sofas and two arm chairs, arranged in a circle that faced the fireplace in the centre of the room. Jackson occupied one of the armchairs; Isaac sat in the other, his lanky legs folded under him as he talked quietly with Boyd, discussing his thesis and how his classes were going. Boyd was sitting on one of the sofa, nodding along to the conversation. Derek sat on the other sofa, dressed in a grey-blue Henley and jeans.

Jackson was the first to notice Stiles was standing there. He turned to look at Stiles in the doorway and burst into laughter.

The others turned to look.

“You look like you did in high school,” Isaac remarked rather bluntly.

Something about that comment made Jackson laugh even harder.

Stiles felt his chest tighten, his stomach twisting in knots as hot tears pricked at his eyes.

He felt like he did back in high school; shamed, judged and humiliated.

Their gazes bore into him, tearing him to pieces.

“Jackson,” Derek said, his voice firm and authoritative.

Jackson’s laughter died away. He straightened in his chair, drawing in a deep breath as he tried to compose himself.

“Isaac’s right,” he said. “You look like you did back in high school.” There was a beat of silence. A grin turned up the corners of Jackson’s lips as he added, “You also look like Mr Clean.”

He burst into a fit of laughter again.

Stiles rolled his eyes, turning away from Jackson.

He met Derek’s gaze for a second, his heart skipping a beat as he noticed the look of worry and thought that darkened his hazel eyes.

“Can we call you cue ball now?” Jackson asked.

“Jackson,” Derek growled warningly, his eyes flashing red for a second.

“It’s fine,” Stiles said. “Let him get it out of his system.”

“I think he looks handsome,” Erica said, stepping over to Stiles’ side and pressing a kiss to his cheek before clambering over the back of the sofa and curling up against Boyd’s side.

“I agree,” Boyd said.

He narrowed a threatening glare on Jackson.

“And if you have a problem with buzz cuts—” His eyes lighting up gold. “—you can say it to my face.”

Jackson swallowed hard, sitting back in his arm chair and falling silent.

“That’s what I thought,” Boyd muttered, the glow of his eyes fading as he sat back, his harsh eyes still fixed on Jackson.

“It’s alright, guys,” Stiles said, his soft voice calming as it broke the tension in the room. “Jackson’s just mad he can’t look this good.”

The pack burst into laughter as Jackson looked at Stiles with an exaggerated look of shock and offence.

Stiles sat down at the other end of the couch that Derek was sitting on, crossing his legs under himself.

The pack settled, returning to whatever they were talking about before Stiles came into the room.

Stiles didn’t join in. He let his mind wander as he listened to the conversation, simply enjoying their company.

They had all split up and went their separate ways when they went to college, but they had made a tradition of spending the holidays at Derek’s house.

With every term that passed, they had watched the alpha rebuild his house—repairing the damage the fire had left.

The last time they were here, the outside of the house looked like a patchwork quilt; pale strips of fresh pine stood out against the withered ash-grey wooden panels and the charred black siding. Now, the siding had been painted white, accentuating the dark wood of the window frames and shutters.

It seemed that the more he repaired the house, the more Derek came to terms with what happened. He wasn’t living in ruins anymore; he had his home back.

After a while, Stiles stood up, heading through the open doorway across the hallway and into the kitchen to get a drink.

He pulled open the fridge and grabbed a can of soda, a quiet shuffle of footsteps following him into the kitchen. He shut the fridge door and looked up at Derek.

The man leant against the counter across from the fridge, his arms folded over his chest as he looked at Stiles inquisitively.

“Why did you shave your hair?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“I just felt like a change,” Stiles answered.

“Please don’t lie to me,” Derek said softly.

Stiles let out measured breath.

He should have known better than to try and lie to Derek.

“I couldn’t stand to look in the mirror,” Stiles admitted. “Every time I did, I could swear I was looking at him.”

“Who?” Derek asked.

Stiles bowed his head. He didn’t say anything.

“Stiles,” Derek said softly, trying to prompt an answer.

“The Nogitsune,” he said, still not looking up at Derek.

Derek stiffened, his hazel eyes darkening as he looked at Stiles—heartbroken by his words.

“I know he’s gone,” Stiles said. “I know it’s all over, but there’s part of me that wonders if he’s really gone or if—”

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

“Every time I looked in the mirror, it was like I was looking at him…”

His voice trailed off, tears welling in his eyes. His vision blurred into streaks of colour and light. He sniffed as he blinked back his tears.

“Stiles,” Derek started, his voice soft.

“I know I look bad,” Stiles said. “I just needed to look different. I needed to break the illusion.”

“I don’t think you look bad,” Derek told him.

Stiles looked up at him, his brow furrowed in confusion. His heart skipped a beat as he met the man’s gaze.

Derek looked at him lovingly, his pale aventurine eyes clear and bright.

“I think you look great,” Derek said, the corner of his lips turning up in a soft smile.

“I look like I did when I was sixteen,” Stiles scoffed.

“You look like you did when we first met.”

The thought hadn’t struck Stiles until that moment.

Derek was right; he looked like he did the day they met in the woods—only older.

“And I still feel the same way about you as I did back then,” Derek said.

“Like you want to kill me for trespassing?” Stiles asked.

Derek let out a breathless chuckle.

“No,” he said. He bowed his head as a soft pink blush coloured his cheeks. “More like… I want to kiss you.”

Stiles stared at Derek, stunned.

He waited, half expecting Derek to burst into laughter and say he was joking. But he didn’t.

“Oh,” was all he managed to say, his mind reeling with thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Just pretend I never said anything.”

He turned to walk back out of the kitchen.

“I want to kiss you too,” Stiles blurted out.

Derek turned back to look at him.

“Sorry, that sounded weird,” Stiles said, bowing his head.

He drew in a deep breath, trying to compose his thoughts.

“I like you too,” he admitted.

Derek seemed shocked to hear that.

“I never said anything because I was scared I was going to mess up everything like I always do.”

“That’s not true,” Derek said quietly.

Stiles scoffed at that. “Yeah, it is.” He let out another sigh. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to end up hurting you.”

Derek’s eyes softened as he stepped over to Stiles’ side. He gently cupped Stiles’ face in the palms of his hands and brought their lips together.

The kiss was gentle and tender, making Stiles melt in Derek’s arms.

His eyes fluttered shut and his hand slid up the front of Derek’s Henley, balling the soft, worn cotton into his hand

Derek slowly pulled back, resting his forehead against Stiles’.

“You could never hurt me,” Derek whispered.

Stiles opened his eyes, looking up into the pale aventurine depths of Derek’s loving gaze.

Derek brushed the ball of his thumb across Stiles’ cheek, wiping away the tear that escaped his lashes.

A soft smile turned up the corners of Derek’s lips.

He brought his lips to Stiles’ again.

Stiles let out a weak sigh as he melted into the tender kiss. He ran his hand up the front of Derek’s shirt and looped his arm around his neck, weaving his fingers through Derek’s soft hair.

Derek’s hands settled on Stiles’ waist, pulling him closer and enveloping him in his warmth.

He drew back slowly.

Stiles tilted his chin, chasing his Derek’s lips.

Derek chuckled against his mouth as he brought their lips back together again. 

“It’s raining!” Erica shouted with delight from the other room, interrupting them.

Seconds later, they heard the front door open as the rest of the pack ran out onto the front porch.

Stiles chuckled, untangling himself from Derek’s arms and heading towards the door.

“What is it with Erica and rain?” Derek asked, perplexed.

Stiles shrugged. “I have no idea. Come on.”

He and Derek followed them out onto the porch, the heavy rainfall drumming on the roof over their heads. The wooden steps were soaked, the wood darkened by the water and the front yard

They watched as Erica and Isaac ran out into the falling rain, turning their faces towards the sky and smiling as the droplets fell against their skin.

They were soaked in seconds; Erica brushing aside the strands of long blonde hair that clung to her skin and Isaac raking his fingers through his limp curls to push them back from his face. Both of them were in thralls of laughter.

Boyd stood under the cover of the porch, chuckling quietly at the sight of his girlfriend dancing in the rain.

Jackson stood beside him, watching on with a look of confusion.

“What’s wrong, Jackson? Afraid to get your hair wet?” Stiles teased.

Jackson shot him a look. He opened his moth to make a snarky remark but he stopped himself, his eyes flicked from Stiles’ face to the top of his head as his retort died in his throat.

Stiles cocked an eyebrow, flashing a coy smirk.

Derek and Boyd bowed their heads, trying to hide their smirks and smother their laughter.

Stiles stepped past him, casually walking down the front steps and into the rain.

He drew in a deep breath, the smell of ash and charred wood fading away as the sweet scent of petrichor rolled in; the rain washing away the past.

He turned back, his dark eyes finding Derek’s as a smile found its way onto his lips.

[AO3]

[aion-rsa]

The Craft: How a Teenage Weirdo Based on a Real Person Became an Icon

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

“We Are The Weirdos, Mister.” A phrase you’ll find printed over t-shirts, pin badges, mugs, earrings, tote bags, necklaces, and more all over the internet. It’s the most iconic line from The Craft, a film released 25 years ago that still has a rabid following today. For anyone unfamiliar with The Craft, it’s a line spoken by Fairuza Balk’s Nancy, an inferno in black lippy and sunglasses, the de facto leader of a homemade coven made up of outsiders who have taken the raw deal the world has given them and rejected it by learning to harness the power of nature. This line is everything. We are no longer going to be victims, it says. We will no longer be afraid. We reclaim our space, our power. That we are four teenaged girls will no longer mean we have to watch out for ‘weirdos’ – because it is us who are the weirdos. Mister. 

“Nancy is the one everybody wants to be,” says Peter Filardi, the man who created Nancy, Rochelle, Bonnie, and Sarah all those years ago, chatting to Den of Geek from his home, an original poster for The Craft peaking out from behind him on the wall. Next to it is a poster for Chapelwaite, the series Filardi is currently showrunning with his brother Jason, based on Stephen King’s short story, “Jerusalem’s Lot,” a prequel to Salem’s Lot.

“Nancy is the one who is particularly put upon and who finds the power to get revenge or get justice and is going to do that with no apologies. I think it’s how we all envision ourselves or would want to see ourselves, I guess. Here we are 25 years later. Why do you think we’re still talking about it?”

It’s an interesting question because we very much still are talking about The Craft. With Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, A Discovery of Witches, His Dark Materials, and of course last year’s remake of The Craft, we appear to very much still be in the season of the witch, but none is quite as resonant and impactful as the original The Craft. Watching it back 25 years after its release, it’s still just as relevant.

The very first script that Filardi sold was Flatliners, the story of arrogant, hot-shot medical students who plan to discover what happens after you die by “flatlining” for increasing lengths of time. Filardi’s script prompted a bidding war and the movie became a big hit, starring Hollywood’s hottest: Kiefer Sutherland, Julia Roberts, and William Baldwin. 

After Flatliners, Filardi had been working on a script about real life teenage Satanist Ricky Kasso, (“He was one of the first to really put the hallucinogenics together with the music and the theology and then sort of brew them all up into this really volatile cocktail,” Filardi explains), so when producer Doug Wick approached him about another supernatural project, Filardi was game.

“He said he would like to either do a haunted house story or something to do with teenage witches. And because I happened to be working on what I was working on I was pretty well-schooled in earth magic and natural magic and Satanism and all sorts of stuff. And we just started talking, and we hit it off, and we decided to develop and create The Craft together,” Filardi recalls.

At the time Wick had just two full producer credits to his name – for Working Girl and Wolf – but he would go on to produce swathes of heavy hitters including Hollow Man, Jarhead, The Great Gatsby, and win the best picture Oscar for Gladiator. Meanwhile, Andrew Fleming, director of The Craft and co-writer of the screenplay, had made horror thriller Bad Dreams and comedy Threesome, and would go on to make several comedy movies as well as many hit TV shows – he’s currently working on season two of Netflix’s popular Emily in Paris.

Filardi’s story was always going to be about women, and it was always going to be about outsiders, the memories of high school still fresh enough for him to remember the pain. “I’m sure it’s like this for every kid. You have memories from those high school years of horrible things that happened to people around you, or were said or done and just the petty cruelties,” he says. “I’m glad I’m an old man now!” (He’s not, he’s 59).

Rewatching and it’s certainly striking how much empathy you feel for the girls. Sarah (Robin Tunney), who is the audience’s way in to the movie, lost her mother during childbirth and has battled mental health problems, even attempting suicide. Recently moved to a new neighborhood with her dad and step mother, she is instantly the outsider at her new school, and is immediately treated abhorrently by popular boy Chris (a pre-Scream Skeet Ulrich), who dates her and then spreads rumors that they slept together. Rochelle (Rachel True) is a keen diver, subjected to overt racist bullying by a girl on the swim team, while Bonnie (Neve Campbell) hides away because of extreme scarring she has all over her body. Before Sarah arrives, the three dabble in magic and protect themselves as best they can from the horrors of high school by telling people they are witches and keeping them at arm’s length. It’s the arrival of Sarah, though, a “natural” witch with some serious power, that turns things around.

“I think that maybe traditionally Hollywood would have done a version where the women were witches like Lost Boys,” Filardi says. “The women were witches, and they had this power, and they’re the dark overlords of their school or something like that. And that’s exactly the opposite of what worked for me and how I thought magic works in general. 

“Magic has always historically been a weapon of the underclass, for poor people… Think of England. People of the heath, who lived out in the country… The heathens, they didn’t have a king or an army or the church even behind them. They would turn to magic. And that’s kind of what I saw for our girls. For real magic to work, you have the three cornerstones of need and emotion and knowledge. And I hate magic movies where somebody has a power and they just do this and the magic happens. I think it’s much more interesting if the magic comes from an emotional need, a situation that really riles up the power within.”

These witches aren’t evil and they aren’t even anti-heroes. Instead, this is pure wish fulfilment for anyone who’s ever been bullied, or overlooked, or been dealt a particularly tough hand, and this level of empathy comes across hard in the film. Watching now and so many of the themes are so current with reference to issues of racism and the emergence of the #MeToo movement.

“I did not write it as a feminist piece per se,” says Filardi. “I really just wrote it as an empathetic human being, I think.”

There’s extreme empathy dripping throughout the script, but don’t mistake that for pity. The Craft deals in female empowerment and just plain fun. It’s here that one of The Craft’s enduring conflicts arises. Are you Team Sarah or are you Team Nancy?

The correct answer of course, is Team Nancy…

“It’s always harder to be the good guy or the good girl,” laughs Filardi. 

After all, before Sarah shows up, the other three are doing fine – surviving, doing minor spells, and looking out for each other. The influx of power Sarah brings allows the group to up their game and together they each ask for a gift from “Manon,” the (fictional) deity who represents all of nature that they worship in the film. Bonnie wants to heal her scars, Rochelle wants the racism to stop, Nancy wants the power of Manon, but Sarah casts a love spell on Chris. Sarah is either taking revenge on Chris, or she’s forging a relationship without consent, and it’s a move which eventually leads to Chris’s death. 

Meanwhile, Nancy is someone who just refuses to be a victim, despite the fact that of the four she’s clearly had the toughest life, living in a trailer with her mum and her abusive stepdad. Nancy won’t allow the audience to pity her. Nancy doesn’t let things happen to her, she makes her own choices, whether they are good ones or not. When newly empowered Nancy is running red lights, with Rochelle and Bonnie whooping in the back, and Sarah telling her it’s all gone a bit far, “Oh shut up, Sarah” feels like the right response. While Sarah might be technically correct, we are rooting for these girls to be allowed the pure joy of something they have created between them.

Nancy is an amazing creation, and Filardi says he couldn’t have anticipated how much the character would resonate.

“I did not envision the great look that Andy Fleming brought to her,” he smiles. “But Nancy was inspired by a real girl, whose older brother lived in a trailer in their backyard, and just had a hard go of it. She’s true to the one I wrote. She always embodied the earth element of fire. Each of the girls is their own earth element. There’s earth, wind, water, fire. And you can pretty much guess who’s who…” 

We could speculate but it’s perhaps more fun to let the audience decide for themselves.

“Nancy in the beginning was always the constructive aspect of that element. She’s the light in the fire in the dark woods that draws the girls together,” he explains. “When she’s all passion and raw nerve, she’s very much like fire, but then when she crosses Sarah and gets overwhelmed with the power of her new abilities, she becomes the destructive side of that same element and burns the whole thing up. But she’s a fantastic character. I think that Fairuza Balk just elevated Nancy to a whole other level. I guess that’s what happens when you’re blessed with the right actor for the right part.”

Exactly who the true protagonist of The Craft is is something Filardi still contemplates. What is notable is that though, yes, Nancy, Bonnie, and Rochelle do at one point try to, um, kill Sarah and make it look like suicide, which isn’t a very sisterly thing to do, they never really become true villains. By the end, the only fatalities are sex pest Chris and Nancy’s abusive step father, and both deaths could reasonably be considered accidental. While Bonnie and Rochelle are stripped of their powers, they aren’t further punished, it’s only Nancy who gets a raw deal. Driven to distraction by her surfeit of power, we find her ranting in a mental hospital strapped to a bed. 

Filardi’s ending was different, though he won’t be drawn on details.

“The original ending was different. I’ve never really gone into the detail of what the original ending was. Well, the original ending was just different…” he says, mulling over what he might say. “So, let’s see. Well, Chris always died… and it was just very different,” he hesitates. “I don’t really get into it because there’s no real sense. It is what it is. I always like in a movie… Having two different children and you love them both for different reasons, but I would have never wanted to be hard on the girls in the final analysis in any way thematically.”

One element of the script that saw slight changes was the motivation of Rochelle, after the casting of Rachel True. 

“To be honest, I think she was the exact same character. She was picked on by the swimmers. There was an added element that she had an eating disorder. She used to vomit into a mayonnaise jar and hide it on the top shelf of a bedroom closet. But other than that, she was really the same character,” he says. “Andy Fleming and Doug Wick, I don’t know who came up with the idea, but they cast Rachel and she added this whole other element to it, the racial element, which I think it was great and I think totally appropriate.”

Though Filardi didn’t work on the remake and hasn’t actually seen it, he’s able to see for himself, first hand, how well the film has aged and how it continues to endure for young women – he has teenage daughters of his own.

“I see them going through all the same stuff that I watched girlfriends going through. And it hasn’t changed all that much,” he says ruefully.

“It’s funny. For years, they had no idea what I did for a living. I think they just thought I hung around in the basement. And one daughter was like… She was going to school with somebody whose father was in a rock band or something, ‘Nobody in this house does anything interesting. Everything’s boring.’ And it was around Halloween and they were showing The Craft at the Hollywood Forever cemetery. I took them to the cemetery and it was great. There were boys dressed in Catholic high school uniforms and women all in black and with blankets and candles and wine and snacks. Amidst the tombstones, they set up a huge screen and showed the film. So, that’s when they first saw it. And it was really fun. A really nice thing to share with my daughters.”

Things don’t change that much. High school is still horrible. Magic is still tantalizing. The outfits are still fabulous. And Nancy is still a stone cold legend. The Craft is an enduring celebration of outsider culture that we’ll probably still be talking about in 25 years to come. After all, most of us, at one time or another, feel like the weirdos. 

“I think of it as the story about the power of adolescent pain and self-empowerment. I think of beautiful young people who are just picked upon or put in positions they shouldn’t be or don’t deserve to be, and having the ability to fight back and weather it and survive,” says Filardi when we ask him what he’s most proud of. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“I’m also proud of all the great contributions that the other talented people brought to the script. All I did was a script, but you have actors and directors and producers and art directors and production designers who just… Everybody seems to me to have brought their A-game. I didn’t come up with Nancy’s great look. Other people get all that credit. Like you said, you see her on t-shirts. So, so many people just brought so many things. I guess I’m just proudest to think that a bunch of strangers come together and connect to the message of the piece, and together just make something memorable all these 25 years later.”

The post The Craft: How a Teenage Weirdo Based on a Real Person Became an Icon appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/338IgcS

[urlocalkpoptrash]

Scenery| Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung x Reader.

Genre: Fluff (90%)/ Angst (10%)

Warnings: Talk of being ill, and death.

Concept: Living your life through photos and memories.

A/N: Honestly, his song gives me so many feels. I hope you guys enjoy! 😭

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The room was quiet for once, the boys had left not too long ago, and the nurses were visiting other patients. Taehyung yawned as you walked into the room, his eyes lighting up when he saw you standing by his bed. Today was a good day for him, it was all in his eyes. Lately, they had been dull and heavily lidded. He tried his hardest to stay positive, but some days were harder than others, luckily he was having an easy day.

“Well hello there, handsome,” you said, setting the large photo album on the side table.

He watched with wonder, a small smile tugging on his lips. He adored that book like it was the holy bible, and to him, it was.

“I see you brought me a gift,” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“I did,” you grinned, sitting on the edge of his bed, “I know last week was a hard week, and I thought I’d try and cheer you up.”

He placed his hand on your thigh, his fingers curling around the fabric of your sweatpants. You felt your heart break a little, such a small gesture, full of such love.

“Shall I get started?” You asked, clearing your throat, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you.

“Yes, please.” He used what little strength he had to push himself higher on the bed.

You quickly reached back, and adjusted his pillow. He sighed, but smiled gratefully when you looked down at him. No matter how sick he got, he never asked for help, that wasn’t the tae everyone knew, and that wasn’t the tae he wanted to be.

You settled back into your position, grabbing the album. You had tagged a few pages, with some of your favorite pictures and favorite memories. You fingers danced over a few of the polaroids, scenes from your life flashing before you. You picked your most cherished photo.

“This was one of our first dates,” you set the photo on his stomach, letting him pick it up.

“It was an art museum, and you kept stopping to look at every single painting,” he grinned, looking at the picture fondly.

You had never been into art, but taehyung was, and you wanted to know everything about him. He told you that if he never pursued music, he would have pursued art. He was so knowledgeable and mesmerized by the paintings.

“What about this one?” You stopped before a rather abstract piece, completely lost as to what any of it could mean.

“Ah,” he stood beside you, one arm tucked warmly around your waist, “This is one of my favorite artists, he has a way of capturing the rawest form of emotions.”

You tilted your head to one side, squinting to see if you could try and make something out of the lines, and the vibrant colors masked by black and white.

“This one in particular is about having to hide your emotions for the better of someone else. He was madly in love with a girl, but her family looked down on him and his art. He knew that if he expressed how he truly felt, she would leave everything behind and follow him. He couldn’t let her do that, he knew she would regret it one day. He’d rather leave when the love was the strongest, than wait till he became the enemy,” he glanced over at you, and you were in awe of the painting, finally understanding.

“What would you have done?” You asked, still not breaking your gaze from the painting.

“I would have given up my art to be with the woman I love,” he mumbled, far too focused on the live art work that was standing beside him.

“If she loved you, she wouldn’t let you do that,” you finally turned your full attention to him.

“Some times the greatest masterpieces aren’t the ones you put on a canvas,” he whispered, just as you moved on to the next painting, knowing full well you didn’t hear him, and he was okay with that.

He laughed, and shook his head as you set down another one, “We had taken over thirty photos this day, and all of them, except this one, I was paying attention. Of course, the one you loved was the one where I’m not even looking at you.”

You beamed, and nodded. He had always told you that he hated that picture, but you would never think for a second about giving it up, or changing it.

It was your first time traveling together, and you had been exploring the city all day. You were eating the foods, talking to the locals, and most importantly your were able to taste all the wines. Tae never drank, but he would gladly sit with you, and converse while you divulged in your love of wine.

The night was coming to an end, and you two were going to be meeting the rest of his friends that night for dinner, but tae insisted on taking pictures. Almost all of them had been of you, because every time you asked to take one of him, he’d just smile and shake his head, a shy smile adoring his cheeks.

“Okay, fine. I’ll take a few,” he rolled his eyes, as if he was annoyed, but his amused chuckle told another story.

He had posed a few times, taking sweet photos, a few where he was trying to make you laugh, and two with his signature ‘v’ pose.

“Hold on, I need to fix this,” He fidgeted with something in his hand, sitting down, legs crossed at the ankles.

You watched him, his tongue slightly protruding from his lips, the wind was strong enough just to shake a few strands of his hair out of place. He hummed to himself while he worked, nose scrunching every few seconds. Your heart swelled, he looked the most like himself in that moment. You couldn’t stop yourself from snapping one last picture.

He had finished whatever it was he was doing, draping an arm around your shoulder, “Did you get any good ones, baby?” He asked, pressing a tender kiss into your temple.

“I did, and it’s probably my favorite picture I’ve ever taken,” you admitted, wrapping one arm around his back, walking beside him.

“I can’t wait to see it,” he stopped in the middle of the street, pulling you fully into his arms.

You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He gently nudged your nose with his, before pressing a heavenly kiss on to your lips.

You grinned brightly when you flipped the page to find the next photo. You ran your fingers over the edges before placing in tae lap. He looked down, his brittle fingers taking ahold of the picture delicately.

“Was this the night -,” he cut off his own sentence to look at you, and he was pleased to see the fondness of your face.

“Yeah... It was the night you confessed you were actually in love with me,” your eyes held him in your gaze.

“You know, the hammock could could hold more than one person if you sat normally,” Jin mumbled from over his broad shoulder.

“It could, but I don’t want to share it with any of you,” he said with a boxy, tight lipped smile.

“Not even your girlfriend?” You said with a pout, your eyes peaking up over your phone, having just captured a photo of him.

“Nope. You’re a space hog,” he gestured over to you, where you were sprawled across the floor, legs spread slightly, your purse laying flat beside you.

“I’ll remember that when you want cuddles tonight,” you retorted, crossing your arms with a pout.

Childish. You were being childish, but in that moment you didn’t care.

“Oh baby,” he cooed, pushing himself up from the hanging fabric, striding over to you, only to kneel between your legs.

“Did I hurt your feeling?” He placed his hands in your face, squishing your cheeks so your lips were pushed out.

“Yes,” you mumbled, the muscles in your cheeks ached as you instinctively tried to smile.

“You’re so cute when you’re pouty,” he laughed an airy, playful chuckle, “I just love you.”

Three words to shut the whole room up, Jin and Jungkook both stopped bickering to turn on their heels to face the both of you.

Namjoon coughed loudly, choking on one of the snacks he had indulged on. Hoseok almost ran into the practice room mirror, but the wooden beam that spread across the mirror jabbed into his hip.

“What?” He asked, actually very confused.

“You-you, you said you loved her,” Jungkook squeaked from the corner of the room.

“I do,” he said matter of fact, looking down to hear the only response that actually mattered.

“I love you too, Taehyungie,” you whispered, capturing his lips with yours, the whole room groaning and turning away, but the smile on Taehyungs lips hurt his cheeks.

“I could look at these pictures all day,” you felt his fingers reach over to grab your hand.

“Me too, tae.” You glanced over, his eyes starting to hang a little lower, you could see the sleep trying to fight his bright eyes, “Do you want to get some sleep?” You brought his hand up, brushing your lips over his knuckles.

“Just a few more,” his voice getting more hoarse.

“Sure, baby,” who were you to deny him of this.

You flipped a few full pages, the right side of the book was getting heavier, as you started to near the end of the book.

“Stop,” he pointed just as you were about to turn another round of pictures, “Those, the ones of you,” you peaked through your lashes, seeing his weak, but very viable boxy grin.

You set the book in his lap, and he scanned over the page for a long moment, reliving the memories in his mind.

“Just a bit further,” he called back at you, chuckling as you groaned.

“How are you carrying all that camera equipment, and you’re not even breaking a sweat?” You looked up to see he had extended his hand for you.

After he had pulled you to his side, he nudged you forward. You were faced with the calm waters of a river running between the hill you climbed and the woods on the other side. He watched as you walked forward, admiring the way you silhouette moved into the sunlight.

“How did you find this place?”

“I was always on the look out for the most beautiful sights.”

You still felt the need to catch your breath, feeling a little dizzy. You sat on the batch of rocks crowding around the edge, “Did you find it?”

He looked at you through his camera lens, snapping a photo. He brought to screen to his face,”I did, and I will never find anything else like it,” he let his camera move away so he was only left with the view and you.

He laughed when you removed the next picture, and when you saw exactly what that was, you couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“I can’t believe you kept this,” he shook his head, the smile never leaving his face.

“Why wouldn’t I?!” You took the photo from him, examining it yourself.

39 flights of stairs you both climbed, and if it wasn’t for the incredible view from your favorite spot, you wouldn’t have dared to make this journey.

With a burst of energy Taehyung shoved the door to the roof his apartment open, the moon and star illuminating the concrete and back up generators. You followed after him, giggle, the wind wiping your hair across your face.

You both stood close to the railing, the world below you was still busy, but the apartments above had turned their lights off and closed their curtains, closing down for the night. You felt the excitement bubbling up in your stomach and you couldn’t help it.

“I passed!” You yelled loudly, your echo responding back to you.

Taehyung laughed, and yelled just as loud, “My girlfriend is officially college educated!”

Exams were over and you passed in the top of tour class, graduation was close you could taste it.

“You hear that world?! I’m college educated,” you opened your arms, welcoming the presence of happiness in your life.

“We get it! You’re in debt!” A man yelled from the building across from you, shaking his hand out of the window.

Both you and Tae almost fell to your knees in laughter, tears falling down your face from just how hard you were cracking up.

“Hey tae,” you mumbled softly, laying down beside him as you set the book on the side of you.

“Hmm?” He lifted his brows, but his eyes didn’t open.

“Why did you always have me in the pictures of your scenic shots?” His fingers ran through the strands of your hair.

“I wanted a picture of the scenery,” he turned his head, his nose replacing his hands, hiding his face in your hair, “And there is nothing as beautiful as you.”

And that was the last thing he ever said to you. The sleep that was fighting him so bad finally swallows him whole. It was as if he was waiting for a moment like that, for a moment where he could relive his life with you. He wanted to go holding the only thing that meant the world to him. He wanted to go never wondering if you were his. So he did, he passed with the boys at his side, and with you in his arms. The last things he remembers seeing was your face, the best scenery of all.

[apurehetalian]

Christmas without Them

For the Hetalia Christmas Event

Day: December 18th, 2019

Prompt: Home Alone

Title: Christmas without Them

Characters: Romania (Vladimir), Moldova (Aurel), and Bulgaria (Stefan)

Warnings: This is actually a very sad fanfic and it contains character death.

Also, this is a human au kind of thing.

(This will be my first time writing these characters and my first time joining an event so sorry for the oocness as well.)

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Vladimir stared at the picture in his hands. His redish brown eyes were devoid of emotion as he stared at the photo.

He had taken the photo two years ago for he had wanted to capture the moment. The photo was of Stefan and Aurel building a snowman with big smiles on their faces. He could always hear their laughter through this photo and it always brought him joy, but now it just brought heartache.

Today marked the one year of their death and he could remember what happened like it was yesterday...

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

It was Christmas Day and they had just finished eatting and opening open presents. Vlad had his back against his husband's chest as he snuggled against him. He was watching Aurel play with his new toy truck when an idea hit him.

"You know I heard the town square has a big Christmas Tree up this year. Lukas told me that it was covered in Christmas lights and decorations. He also told me there was a skating ring around it." He said.

Stefan looked down at Vlad as he looked surprised by the news. "Wow, this town hardly decorates for Christmas expect for a few lights here and there." He said. "It is actually surprising that they even have a Christmas tree and a skating ring this year."

"I know so I was thinking that the three of us could go check it out and the skating ring should still be open."

Aurel jumped up and ran over to Vlad. His little brother looked up at him with his big adorable smile that just melt his heart everytime. "Can we go, please?! I want to see the big Christmas tree and go ice skating!" He said excitedly.

He chuckled as he reached down and ruffled his baby brother's hair affectionately. "Well, it depends on if Stefan wants to go or not." He said.

He had to suppress his laughter as he watched Aurel looked at his husband with his signature big brown puppy dog eyes that even Vlad couldn't say no to. "Please Stefan, can we go?" He asked.

Vlad felt his heart melt in his chest again as he watched Stefan's green eyes soften and looked at his brother with such love in his eyes. "Of course," He said. "But you need to take your toys up to your room first and then we can go."

"Yay!" Aurel jumped on the couch as he hugged Vlad and Stefan at the same time. He didn't even give them time to react before jumped off and started to pick up his toys and carried them to his room.

He heard Stefan chuckled as he felt him rest his chin on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around him tightly. "That kid is excitable." He said.

Vlad smiled as he leaned back against him as he closed his eyes. "You are so good with him." He whispered. "You don't know how grateful I am to have you in our lives."

"I should be the one that is grateful. Without you two, I would still be a grumpy man living at home alone. You two gave meaning to my life and showed me what love really is about." Stefan whispered. "I know I could neved replaced Aurel's and yours parents, but I think of him as a son and you as the love of my life. I love you both so much and I can never imagined my life without you. You two are the best Christmas present that I could ever receive."

Vlad opened his eyes as he felt his tears running down his cheeks, but he wasn't crying because he was sad. He was just so happy right now and what he said really warmed his heart.

"Stefan..." He pulled away from his embrace before turning to look up at his husband. "You don't...understand how much...that makes me...feel."

He was trying really hard to speak, but he was having a hard time trying to get the words he wanted to say out.

"Shhh," Stefan whispered as he started to kiss away his tears. "I have a pretty good idea of what you want..."

Vladimir didn't let him finished that sentence as he reached up and tangled his fingers into his dark hair before bring him down for a kiss. He tasted like peppermint and smoke, just like how he smelled.

He felt Stefan wrapped his arms around him as he deepen the kiss. Before anything could go too far, Vlad pulled away right as Aurel walked back in.

"My toys are pit away in my room." Aurel said excitedly. "Can we go now?"

"Of course, go get your coat on while I go get your hat and gloves from the dryer." Vlad said.

"Okay," Aurel said before running off again.

Vlad turned to Stefan and leaned up as he playfully brushed his lips against his ear. "We will finished this later, my love." He pulled away and he couldn't help, but to smirk at the blush that graced his love's cheeks.

He stood up and walked away from the sofa. He went into the laundry room and grabbed Aurel's hat and gloves.

It wasn't long before the family of three was ready to go. Since the town square wasn't that far from where they live, so they decided to walk there.

Aurel was in the middle of both Vladimir and Stefan as he held both of their hands. Vlad smiled as he and his love swinged his little brother. He couldn't helped to laugh with Stefan as Aurel shout with joy.

He noticed Stefan dropped his smile and he looked to where he was looking at. He noticed serval cars driving fast past them.

"The road is covered in snow and ice. If those cars are not careful, they will slide off the side of the road." Stefan said.

"They don't care. Idiot people just think that just because they can do go with the normal speed without sliding off the side of the road that they can speed without worry. They don't care they endangered other people or themselves at the time until they actually do hurt someone." Vlad huffed before turning back to Stefan. "Anyways, we shouldn't talk about this."

He looked down and noticed Aurel was leaning towards Stefan. Whenever his little brother was scared or uncomfortable, he would noticed he would always go to Stefan.

"You are right, we should stop talking about that." Stefan nodded before reaching down and playfully ruffling Aurel's hair. "Besides, we should be excited about ice skating."

Vladimir watched as Aurel's eyes light up as he started to jump up and down. "I can't wait!" He said.

"Niether can," Vlad laughed before he smiled warmly at his family. "I love you two so much."

"I love you, big brother!" Aurel said. "I, also, love Stefan, too."

"I love you both as...look out!" Stefan shouted out.

The last thing he remembered was a flash of light coming towards them and a loud honking sound before everything went black.

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

"We are losing him!"

"Stay with us, Vladimir!"

"His heart stopped! Get the defibrillator now!"

"1...2..3..."

"1...2...3.."

"1...2..."

That was all Vladimir could remember from the white haze before he black out again.

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

When Vlad woke up again, he was in the hospital room. He can't move as he is extreme pain. He tried to remember what happened, but his memory was all fuzzy.

"Oh, you are a wake!" He looks over to where he heard the voice came from and noticed a woman nurse had walked into his room.

"What happened to me?" It had seem that Vlad couldn't speak anything above a whisper as his mouth went dry.

"Oh sweetie pie, you don't remember?" The nurse asked.

"N-no...I don't...r-remember..."

"You were walking on the side walk when a truck, going over the speed limit mind you, had slid on some ice and hit you straight on." The nurse said.

Memories of the night before started to rush back to him as the crash played over his head. "Aurel...Stefan...!" He whispered shout. "Where are my husband and little brother?! Are they okay?!"

The nurse looked Vlad sadly as she took his hand gently. "I am sorry, sir." She said. "They didn't make it."

"No..." Vladimir sobbed into his hands.

No. No. No!

This can't be happening! They can't be dead! This has to be a dream...please let this be a dream...

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

It was his fault. He should never had suggested going out to seeing that damn tree or even go ice skating. Aurel and Stefan would have been alive if he hadn't suggested it.

He should have been the one that died not them...

Now he was home alone. He will never hear his brother's laughter nor will he see his cute little face running around as he is being chase Stefan. He will never be hugged or kissed by his husband nor will he ever hear him walked through the door coming home from work. No more cuddles or sleeping together as a family...

He was alone in this dark silent house as he continued to stare at the photo.

This was his first Christmas without them and it was their death anniversary. He just felt so hollow inside that couldn't celebrate it anymore.

Not without them...

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

"Stefan," Aurel whispered as he crawled up onto the sofa next him. Tears were falling down his face as he tried to hold back his sobs. "I miss big brother."

Stefan bit his lip as he pulled Aurel into his arms as he squeezed him tightly to his chest. He was trying to fight his own sobs as he ran his fingers gently through Aurel's hair. "I miss him, too." He whispered.

Today was Christmas. A year ago from today, the love of his life and Aurel's big brother, Vladimir, had died. This was their first Christmas without him. With it being his death anniversary, Aurel and him couldn't bear to celebrate it so they both stay at home as they waited for this horrible day to be over with.

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Yeah, plot twist there at the end, but I am not happy with it completely. I wanted to add more, but if I kept going then this would never had ended.

I promised, the next one I do will not be sad. I am so sorry for a sad entry.

I decided to go ahead and post this today.

[antiquecompass]

So this is the second part in that Wen Ning/OC fic (first part here) and also for Untamed Winter Fest Day 8. (Eventually it’ll be up on Ao3, but I want to keep this one in order at least, for a little bit.)

Wen Ning wasn’t sure how to dress for a date that also included tire shopping and three of his students. Granted, he only taught gym, and only coached Aisling in archery, but still it was all a bit muddled. Not that he was complaining. At all. He was just a little out of his depth.

Okay, a lot out of it.

He still couldn’t believe last night had happened. He pressed his fingers to his lips as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He swore they still tingled from the feel of Aidan’s own against them. Mr. Tumnus, his white and orange tabby, was luckily the only other living being in the house who could judge him and the blush that just would not die down. 

He desperately wanted today to go well. 

He needed help.

“Just don’t wear all black,” Qingyang said before he could even greet her. “I mean, you like black, so you wear a lot of it, even among all that blue and white at Lan Academy. And it looks good on you, so you should, but today is special. So just don’t wear all black. Throw some color in there. A green. Hell, even a heather grey. A red. No, no, you’ll look too good. Save that for when the kiddos aren’t around.”

Wen Ning didn’t bother to hide his laughter as his sister’s indignant yell came down the line.

“For someone who had me--” Qingyang yelped and then her voice cut off. He heard a door slam shut and then his sister cursing under her breath.

“You love her dearly,” he reminded her.

“Yes,” Wen Qing said.

“And you often say she’s the best thing that ever happened to you,” he reminded her.

“After you, of course,” she corrected.

“She’s only trying to be helpful,” he said.

“She is, but she’s also trying to rile me up,” she said. Another closed door and then a start of the engine.

“Are you driving away? With her phone?”

“She has mine and she’ll catch up,” his sister said. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to you.”

“No, no, you’re in Boston,” he said. “The storm just finished an hour ago.”

“So I’ll be there in three hours,” she said. “When is he picking you up?”

“Noon,” he said.

“It’s seven. Plenty of time,” she said. He heard a loud noise and his sister sigh. “She caught up faster than I intended. I’ll still be there in three hours.”

“The hell you will,” Qingyang said. “The roads are for shit, the storm is moving east, and he needs to do this on his own.”

“But--”

“He’s a grown ass man,” Qingyang said. “Let him be a grown ass man.”

Wen Ning bit the inside of his bottom lip to hold back his laughter as he overheard the struggle. A final victorious cackle signaled that Qingyang had won.

“Definitely Facetime us the outfit choices,” she said. “And give poor Aidan some warning that she’s about to descend upon him like some overprotective fury. I think I’m able to hold her back this time, but she’s probably going to try and crash your second date.”

“Thank you,” Wen Ning said. “For everything.”

“That’s what future-sisters-in-law are for,” she said.

**********

After he’d settled on an outfit--dark green sweater, black jeans, boots that wouldn’t make him slip and fall and make a fool of himself--there had then been a long consultation on his hair. One that had brought Wei Wuxian in as well. They’d all agreed that he should leave it down, but with some strands pulled back from his face.

Gotta hit him with those puppy dog eyes.

That’s what Wei Wuxian had said, even as he went on a twenty-minute long rant about how Aidan was too nice to be human and was probably an archangel in disguise sent to judge the world. Or something. Wen Ning had stopped paying attention after Wei Wuxian and Qingyang started debating about the true forms of archangels.

He kept fidgeting with the tiny ponytail fixed at the back of his head. His hair was always either completely loose or completely up. He wasn’t used to it; he didn’t dislike it, but it was different enough, and enough of a distraction to make him forget his nerves even as Aidan arrived and started the drive into town.

His phone vibrated with a text from his sister.

Stop touching your hair!

He loved her. So much.

“Everything okay?” Aidan asked.

Wen Ning smiled and nodded. “Just my sister.”

“She’s a doctor right?” Aidan asked. “Qingyang’s girlfriend?”

“She is,” he said. “Pediatric surgeon."

"She's amazing!" Una said, the most excited he'd ever heard her. "She spoke at one of the special lectures and threatened to stick a needle in Mr. Lan-Wei's skull if he didn't stop fidgeting."

"They're really good friends," Wen Ning explained to Aidan. "They just have their own love language built on insults."

Aidan smiled at that as he turned onto the road for Mike's Automart. 

"Sounds like me and Catie," he said. "She's my eldest sister. First of all ten of us."

Wen Ning knew he was gaping and couldn't stop.

"Yes, ten," Aidan said. He glanced over at him and laughed, took one hand off the wheel and gently closed Wen Ning’s mouth.

"Told ya he was going to need a chart," Finn said. 

He was very definitely going to need a chart. Aisling's purple painted nails appeared at his side as she waved a sheet of graph paper at him.

"It's just our basic family tree. I ran out of room for cousins and in-laws, but that’s us."

Wen Ning took the paper and his eyes ran over the names. Liam Delaney married Mary Catherine Moore when they were nineteen. From there they had Caitlin, Aidan, Brian, Dermot, then twins Erin and Neve, an apparent long gap where they didn’t have any kids and then based on the birthdates Aisling provided, Una, Aisling, Finn, and Patrick, the youngest, at all of six years old.

“Okay, everybody out,” Aidan said as he took his keys out of the ignition.

“Can we get snacks?” Finn asked. 

“We’re going to lunch after this,” Aidan said.

“Yeah, but can we get snacks?” Una asked. 

“One candy bar each,” Aidan said. “And no soda,” he yelled after them as he followed the three out of the car.

Wen Ning carefully folded up Aisling’s family tree and was reaching for the door when Aidan opened it for him. 

“Hi,” he said.

“You’re very fast,” Wen Ning said. 

“Proper motivation,” Aidan said. He offered his hand up to help Wen Ning down.

“Despite my performance last night, I’m usually not that clumsy,” Wen Ning said. He took Aidan’s hand anyway.

“I know,” Aidan said. “I’ve seen you work. You’re very graceful, but you can’t blame a guy for trying to get five seconds of alone time before the Terrible Trio comes back.”

“No,” Wen Ning said. “I can’t.”

One of Aidan’s hands drifted up to his hair and softly tapped the small ponytail at the back of his head. 

“It’s a good look on you,” he said. “Different, but good.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling that damned blush starting to come back.

“A.B., can we get the little trees?” Finn yelled from the storefront.

“You can each pick one,” Aidan yelled back.

“A.B.?” Wen Ning asked. He smiled to himself as Aidan’s other hand rested on the small of his back as they both walked towards the store, snow crunching under their feet.

“Aidan Brendan Delaney,” Aidan said. “My father’s called me A.B. for as long as I can remember, but it’s what of those family names, you know?”

Wen Ning nodded. He understood. “My granny. She calls me Qionglin sometimes. It’s the name she gave me after I started competing in archery. She wanted to boost my confidence. And while Wen Ning was a shy, awkward, stuttering mess, Wen Qionglin was a champion--would be a champion. It helped to settle my nerves, to put on that persona.”

“And which do you prefer?” Aidan asked as they lingered outside the store.

Wen Ning looked up into those kind, patient eyes and knew he could tell the truth.

“Part of me will always want that brash arrogance of Qionglin. It took me a long time, but I’m very happy--very proud--to be Wen Ning,” he said.

Aidan cupped his cheek. “If it matters at all, I definitely prefer Wen Ning.”

“It matters,” he said, almost desperate to kiss him again, but not here, in front of an entire store of people looking out at them. “It matters a lot.”

The door opened and a middle-aged man, Mike by his nametag, grinned at them, a phone to his ear.

“Aidan, something you’ve been meaning to tell your Uncle Mikey?” he asked.

“My mother’s on the phone, isn’t she?” Aidan asked.

“She wants to know if you finally pulled your head out of your ass and ‘asked that nice young man out.’” He glanced between them, a huge grin on his face. “Can I tell her it’s a yes?”

Aidan sighed and rested his forehead against Wen Ning’s own. “So, in addition to having shit hours, being responsible for the Terrible Trio, I  also have a family that doesn’t understand personal boundaries.”

Wen Ning daringly pulled back and pressed a quick kiss to Aidan’s lips before he could lose his nerve. 

“I understand,” he said. “You’ll meet my sister soon, and understand just how much I get it.”

“They’re adorable,” Mike said into the phone.

“Give me that,” Aidan said, grabbing the phone. “Uncle Mikey, he needs a replacement tire and a spare for a Subaru Outback 2014 2.5i Limited.” He held the phone against his chest and swooped in for another, soft, quick, sweet kiss. “Don’t worry about Uncle Mikey, he’s nicer and smarter than he looks.”

“Hey, I got some of your baby pictures in the back, A.B. I’ll break them out and show your boy, if you don’t watch that mouth of yours.”

Aidan patted his uncle’s cheek and then walked into the store, phone to his ear.

“Ma? What’re you doin? Come on.”

Mike gestured for him to come inside. The Trio were in front of a rack of air fresheners debating on scents. Aidan had wandered over to a shelf of cushion covers. Two of the shop assistants waved at him, while a woman over in the waiting area sat with a toy-sized poodle in her lap.

Mike brought him over to what seemed like an entire wall of tires. 

He never knew there were so many different types.

Mike patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’ve got it. Why don’t you try to help save my air freshener display? Aidan's going to be stuck on that phone for at least twenty minutes, knowing my sister."

Wen Ning had never been happier in his life to be around tree-shaped car air fresheners. 

Aisling handed him her phone. “Uncle Mikey won’t break out the goods, but all the baby pictures are in the family Cloud.” She swiped through various family photos before stopping on one. “I call this the self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Little Aidan, a too-big fireman’s helmet on his head, and a stuffed dalmatian under his arm. It was absolutely precious.

“Want me to send you a copy, Coach?” Aisling asked.

“It’s too quiet over there,” Aidan said. “What are you up to?” He turned his attention back to the phone. “I’m not being suspicious, Ma. Of course, I trust them. No, I only said that once. If you’d seen what they’d done to the kitchen you’d swear they were the devil’s spawn too.I don’t know, Ma, do you have something to tell me? What? No. Ma. Don’t you dare. Please. I take it back.”

Wen Ning’s phone started blowing up with text messages from an unknown number. Containing a plethora of childhood photos. Awkward and embarrassing and sweet ones, too.

He showed the number to Aisling.

“That’s Erin’s number,” she said. “Wow. I haven’t even seen some of these. There are pre-braces pictures in here! I thought Aidan burned all of those!”

[danadeservesadrink]

The Trouble With Expectations  Part 3

Ladies the final chapter is officially here. I hope you all enjoy this bundle of sap and feelings. Thank you for everyone who has supported me throughout this story and made me feel so welcome to this fandom, especially @peacenik0 and @i-gaze-at-scully . Also again tagging @today-in-fic and @xfficchallenges . Thank you all!

Part 1  Part 2

Its been a few weeks since the incident. That’s what she’d been calling it at least. The momentary lapse of judgement fueled by a significant lack of sleep. That’s all it was. It wasn’t the only thing she’d been thinking about since it happened. It certainly wasn’t what she was thinking of right now as she stared out the window of Mulder’s car as they drove back to her apartment. They just got back from University of Maryland, her alma mater, a wonderfully distracting throwback to nights full of beer and math equations and thesis writing. They investigated a cult of teenage girls dedicated to eradicating men that had wronged them and other women. They had killed six of their classmates before the FBI got involved, and Scully and Mulder had spent hours in tiny dorm rooms and dusty classrooms figuring out the case. Now here she was, full of nostalgia for her college days and in the same situation she found herself a few weeks ago.

Her eyes were stuck staring at Mulder, watching how the street lights lit up slivers of his face as he drove through the city. His entire face was never lit, only blocked in various glowing colors, his tired eyes framed by a green light, his lips flushed pink by a neon sign.

She really needed to stop staring at his lips

Instead she chose to turn and focus on the blurring lights outside her window.  Her eyes dropped, blurring the lights even more until they were dancing behind her eyelids as she succumbed to the sleep she so desperately needed. She didn’t wake up until she felt a brush of a finger against her cheek.

“Scully we’re back at your apartment”

She awoke with a start, banging her head against the window slightly as she woke, her eyes adjusting to the bright fluorescents of the parking garage. With a grunt she turned to Mulder, only to see him looking back at her like he did that one night. It was eerily similar, staring back into his tired eyes like she did those weeks ago, full of something deeper than desperation. She started to grab her things, reaching for her purse but stopped when Mulder’s hand wrapped around her wrist. When she looked at him, even he seemed surprised at his actions.

“Um, goodnight Scully” he said, probably taking her wide eyes as a complete rejection, pulling his hand back like she was made of hot coals.  

Maybe now is the time.

Scully used to be a risk taker, a rebel. She used to drink in dorm rooms and smoke in cars outside of house parties. She used to invite boys whose names she barely remembered back to her room late at night. She never used to be afraid of things like this. No, college age Dana Scully would have finished what she started those weeks ago. She would have done all the things present day Scully never would have dreamed of doing.

Remember Dana, actions have consequences. People get hurt. You learned this the hard way.

Of course, she knows this. But God, its Mulder. Its her Mulder, the one who is always there for her, knows everything about her, would do anything for her. If she used to do this with strangers, why couldn’t she do this with him?

You know why.

Yes. It terrified her. Fear, however, had become a good portion of her motivation recently. Her deep breath filled the void of silence that had occupied the car.

“Mulder, do you want to come up? We can have a drink. Finish the reports.”

Her shocked expression now plastered itself to his face, as he dumbly nodded. She basically jumped out of the car, not waiting to see if he’d follow her before she reached the door to the stairwell.

He did.

They made their ways up the stairs in silence. She unlocked her door, stepping inside with him on her heels. She walked around flicking on lights, basking the apartment in a dull yellow glow. Mulder remained at the door, shuffling his feet and gazing slowly around the room.

“You can sit Mulder. I’ll grab us beer”

He moved to the couch only when she motioned to it. Scully ran to the fridge, grabbing to beers out of a six pack, the quickly thrust one into Mulder’s hand and sat next to him. She was painfully aware of how close they were. Silence still reigned, and Scully couldn’t bring herself to break it. She felt like she had at her first party, awkward and silent, unsure of what to do with her hands. She chose to take a large swig of her beer.

“What were you like in college Scully?” She could swear he reads her mind.

“Oh, you know. I was your typical teenager. School was always important, but I had my fun” She played with the cap of her beer as she sipped it. He was nursing his as well. Perhaps it was because if they were drinking, the silence was excusable. He let out a soft chuckle at her answer.

“I, for some reason, can only imagine you curled up in the library late at night” She laughed. Of course, he couldn’t imagine her being any fun. When had she ever done anything fun with him that might indicate otherwise?

You did shove your tongue down his throat two weeks ago in a car while parked in a well-lit public parking deck.

“I partied. Not so much towards my later years but certainly when I was younger. I was a bit of a rebel. I’m surprised you and your profiling skilled couldn’t guess. Its kind of the typical case” At this he raised an eyebrow, sipping his beer as an invitation to elaborate. “Well being brought up in a strict Catholic household, the only alcohol I ever tasted was church wine. Bill was as straight laced as they come, and my parents always expected me to act the same. When college hit, I took the time to experiment”

Mulder laughed again, harder this time and she chuckled with him.

“I just assumed little Dana would have been all about the studies and less about the boys and booze” She snorted then, remembering the number of boys there really were. She had had maybe four sips of beer and already she was feeling looser. She liked making him laugh at her college stories. She liked his laugh.

“I guess you don’t know everything about me Mulder. Sometimes it was ladies and booze” He almost spit out his drink and it was her turn to laugh at him.

“Scully you never cease to surprise me” They were smiling now. The tense air seemed to evaporate between them, the familiar comfort of friendship wrapping back around them like a warm blanket.

“I guess I’ve changed a lot since then” She whispered.

“Maybe you’ve just grown. I never really think we outgrow our rebellious phases, simply repress them as we transition to adulthood. They never truly leave us.”

Mulder was staring at her again. Analyzing her like one of his casefiles, studying her until he found the answer. To him, Dana Scully had become the greatest puzzle of them all, and he would spend all his time trying to decipher her if he could. He thought he was close, so tantalizingly close, when she kissed him. He was ready to unlock the mysteries of the universe holding her to his chest, but she pulled back. She wasn’t ready. He understood. Honestly, he didn’t know if he was either but damn it, he waited this long and he’d wait a million years more for her, to unlock that final piece of her. And now, here he could feel her leaning into to him, looking into his eyes, searching him as well.

She wanted so desperately for him to make the move. When she was young, she always let men make the first move. She would flirt and flatter and leave lingering touches, but Dana Scully never kissed first. It felt nice to be wanted, like she was irresistible to them. But these men were not Mulder. Mulder was going to make her do it. She could practically hear him saying “It’s your move Scully”. He had always pushed her out of every comfort zone she had ever established. Even now, when she could see the want in his eyes, flickering in the lamplight, he was going to wait for her.

He would always wait for her.

Scully set her beer down and turned her body to face him.

“I don’t think I like the rebel in me”

“Why?”

“People get hurt when rebellious decisions are made” Mulder mimicked her seating, turning so they were face to face.

“Not always”

“But they can. Especially when… the person making the decision… cares … a lot… about the other person”

“I don’t think anyone is going to get hurt Scully” He reached out a hand and placed it on her thigh. She winced at the gentleness of it.

It was a gesture of love.

“Someone always gets hurt. It’s the rules of rebellion. You hurt the ones you love” She joked, then tensed.

Shit.

She started to stammer, recover, something anything, but he stopped her with a hand on her cheek, drawing her eyes to look into his.

“Scully” She was shaking. This was different than those weeks ago. This was so much more real. This was an awakening, a truth known to the universe finally being spoken into existence. This was the final puzzle piece, the moment you step back and see the whole picture for the first time.

“Dana” he whispered. It took her breath away, the way he said her name like you would say a prayer.

“I love you” It slipped off her tongue like she’d been saying it for a hundred years. Like it hadn’t taken them so long to get to this point, so much pain and longing, lonely nights spent thinking of the other, days full of carefully calculated glances and touches so subtle only they would have ever noticed.

He breathed a sigh of relief onto her lips as he pulled her to him. She tasted like beer and salt and he realized she was crying. He moved his lips to her cheek, kissing away tears off her freckled skin. He kissed her nose, her eyes, across her eyebrows, finally resting wet lips on her forehead. She was still shaking, and he pulled her small frame to his chest. He swore to every god he could think of that he would never let her go.

“Scully, I have loved you since the day you walked into my office. You make me crazy. You’re the most beautiful, frustrating, wonderful thing to ever walk into my life. You are my everything Scully, and I would give up everything to have you.” He pressed a dozen kisses to her hairline, holding her tighter with every word he spoke. She clung to him desperately. Of course, he was her everything. His arms around her felt like home, she had never felt safer than she did while pressed to his chest. He soothed her, stroking her hair, mumbling words into the crown of her head.

It’s ok baby, it’s all ok. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

She let her breathing align with his. Eyes closed, she inhaled the smell of him, wanting to never forget every detail of how it felt to be held by him. She would have never moved, never dared get up for fear that she would never get to lay like this again.

“Scully its late, we should go to bed” She looked up at him, puffy eyes wide and hopeful.

“Will you stay?” She whispered. It was a way out, a last resort. If he didn’t want this, he could walk out the door he came in, and they would go back to pretending. She didn’t know if she could and God would it hurt but she would do it for him if he asked. She would do anything for him.

He smiled, brushing her hair off her forehead, kissing the spot his fingers cleared.

“Of course”

They got up together, hands intertwining, never fully separating. It was like a tether, holding her, tying her to him. He was afraid if he let go, she would slip away, and he would wake up in his own bed, like it was only a dream. But she led him into the room, laughing when he sat on the bed and tried to pull her down with him.

“I have to change” she giggled as he grabbed her and pulled her between his legs, wrapping his arms around her hips. Sitting on the bed his nose lined up with her chest, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her sternum, nuzzling her chest, dropping his hands slightly lower to grace the upper curve of her ass. She hummed but stepped back, instead leaning down to leave a lingering kiss on his lips.

“Tomorrow”

She grabbed a t shirt and shorts, running into the bathroom to quickly change. She discarded her work clothes, bra included, and walked back out to join Mulder in the bedroom. She found him already under the covers, a pile of his own discarded clothing on the floor. She raised an eyebrow. He responded by raising the bedsheets so she could slip into his arms. She did just that. He left his boxers on, but the rest of his body was warm skin, all hers to touch, to explore, to love. He wrapped his arms around her, they both sighed, their smiles proud and unhidden. He kissed the corner of her lips one last time before settling down behind her.

“Goodnight Scully”

“Goodnight Mulder”

Sleep took her quicker than it ever had. She dreamed of tomorrow, and all the tomorrows they would have together. She woke in his arms, and she had never been happier.