#OH god did i mention i left my plant at my mom’s house. well that was another thing i did

[destinygoldenstar]

☀️The Brunch Of Trauma☀️ - Total Drama Viewer Reacts to Disventure Camp Season 1 Episode 5 “Baking My Heart”

...last time on Disventure Camp I screwed over Nick and caused his elimination because I put him in the heading.

DON'T WORRY, I'M NOT CAUSING JAKE'S ELIMINATION THIS EPISODE. (I hope)

I'm pretty certain it's not him this episode. He's not a target for anybody, at least for now. That and I think it's gonna be Lilly this episode, so...

Yeah. I'm playing my heading card smart this time. King deserves it from last episode.

...oh god what if I DID cause his elimination?

"Goddammit Golden! Why'd you put me in the heading, huh?!"

Alright, let us continue with our journey!

OMG THE PHONE! I FORGOT

PLEEEAAASSEE tell me they take advantage of this!

ALSO, not even a second into the episode and I already caught the fruity boy staring at a certain someone.

YES THEY'RE CALLING! I'm excited!

"Dad! It's me! How are you?"

"Fine, I guess... what do you want?"

Oh he does not sound thrilled.

"Are you taking care of my plants? How are my cats my little birds my fireflies my spiders my iguanas my fish and my crabs?"

GEEZ THAT'S A LOT

I mean I'm not surprised Gabby has a whole zoo at her house. Sounds in character.

Girl has more pets than my own partner.

"Yes... everything you just said is fine... no need to rush home."

Okay, so Gabby having a neglectful family that is annoyed by her existence is canon.

"Do you want to meet my new friends?"

"I have to go attend some business. Bye."

YOU DON'T DESERVE GABBY SIR

Girlie, here you go

"Hi Gretchen! How's it going out there?"

Gretchen? I mean I guess it makes sense she has a nickname, but I just liked saying Grett.

"Did you know that your brother won the football championship? I'm so proud of him sweetie!"

"Guess what's happening today? Your brother's getting a certificate of honor for his high grades in university."

"What does that matter?!"

"I'm just so happy that someone in this family is actually successful!"

OH MY GOD.

I'm actually hurt for Grett.

I would say "Yes, Grett characterization, let's go queen!" But my gosh I feel so bad for her.

I'm so happy we actually get a motive for her now. I knew I could stan her!

'Grett: Overthrow family disappointment'

Add that to the list of motives I made in Episode 4.

"You making a call Tom?"

"Oh... I don't think so, my family isn't home."

Tom... do you have a family? Cause it sounds like you don't.

And that's really sad to hear.

"Is mom home?"

"Oh, they're not here, they went shopping."

WHAT ARE ALL THESE PHONE CALLS?!

Why does everyone have such neglectful families?!

"I'm just... I'm fed up."

Aw, Grett...

"From what?"

"My mom can't go a single day without mentioning my stupid brother!"

"Well, you're not the only one who feels left out in your family..."

Bonding?

I'm loving this scene.

"SHUT UP! You and I are nothing alike! Don't call me friend. We are not friends, and we never will be!"

"Okay, calm down!"

"Just leave me alone!"

Ouch... I do see Grett's POV though. Yeah she's awful, but I guess in her mind she's so inferior to her sibling that she feels the need to be dirty with her tactics.

"We should've listened to Will."

YA THINK?!

If Lilly really is the one gone this episode, you're all alone Ashley. You gotta step up for them!

"Don't give up Lill! It's not over till the rooster crows!"

I like her, she's such an optomist.

"Do you want to go first?"

"I have no one to call."

...what?

No one?

You don't have a spouse? Kids? Grandkids? No one?

"Quit being a nosy brat!"

Lady, he was being a gentlemen and offering you to go first!

Where you pulling this 'brat' shit from?

"Fine, I'll go!"

And right after I say that he gives attitude.

Go call your grandma Jake. Tell her how you love her and you're gonna help her with the money.

Maybe this one will be a bit wholesome.

"Hey Shawn!"

"Hey... Jake..."

...

What...?

"What's up? Is everything alright?"

"I'm sorry..."

*I covered my mouth to hold back a gasp*

"A couple of days ago... grandma passed away..."

OH MY GOD NOOOOOOO

*I'm actually upset for him*

Oh my god...

OH MY GOD HE'S CRYING. OH MY GOD.

"Mom told me not to tell you till you came back... but I had to..."

He's still going. Oh my god...

"You're lying..."

"She was conscious for a few hours before she got worse..."

JUST STOP. JUST STOP TALKING.

"She wrote a letter... I'll give it to you when you get back... I'm sorry man..."

JAKE, I'M SO SORRY. THAT'S AWFUL!!

I'm actually hurt as well!

AND THEN TOM COMFORTS HIM?!??! AWWWWW 😢

I thought he was here to help her! I didn't think she was gonna die before he can even get back! That's horrible!

YOU ALL BETTER GIVE HIM VIRTUAL HUGS.

FOR HIM AND FOR HIS GRANDMA.

Okay, okay, I'm calming down, I'm calming down...

GOD. DAMN. IT. ME.

I SHOULDN'T HAVE PUT JAKE IN THE HEADING!

I KILLED HIS GRANDMA!!

I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO!!

Jake, if you hate me for this, I understand. I deserve it.

"Why won't you take the slay pass?!"

"Because slaying killed my grandma, okay?!"

(I'm sorry)

"Teal Team I hope you enjoyed your call home!"

BRUH. NO. DON'T EVEN.

"We made sure the ingredients are... what's the word... DISGUSTING."

Knew it.

I'm calling this reaction the Brunch of Trauma. As a callback to Total Drama's 'The Brunch Of Disgustingness'

"How are we supposed to get chicken guts?"

By killing a chicken. Duh.

"I can't eat cockroaches! They have feelings!"

No they don't Gabby. No they don't.

"I don't think Jake's in the mood to run around looking for ingredients."

Thank you Tom. Thank you for being so supportive of him and understanding his situation.

"Does anyone know how to cook?"

No.

"Do I have to?!"

"Do you want to win?"

"Fine."

Why is Fiore so grumpy all of a sudden?

"The winning team will send a representative from their team to tonight's elimination ceremony! Where they will get the sole vote to pick an extra person from the losing team."

It was the slay pass I gave Jake that he threw away.

Who wants it? It was sent by me.

"The team that attends the elimination will lose TWO people tonight!"

OH SHIT.

...it's gotta be Teal that loses then, right? Purple's already down a member, and that'll make numbers REALLY uneven.

Oh god did I cause Jake's elimination by putting him in the heading?!

Look, Purple, if you get this marker, even if your name is Fiore, you leave Gabby Grett and Jake out of this. You have my permission to use this marker, but ONLY to use it on Dan.

Dan's the only one on that team I wouldn't really care gets sent home.

Dan and I guess Miriam. I'm sorry Miriam.

Cause there's no way they're gonna make Purple lose here and make the team HALF the size of the other. Right? There's no way.

"Ever since I heard from home this morning, I've been wondering if there's even a point in being here. Should I leave?"

I feel so bad for Jake.

What did this precious bean do to you writers?! Why'd you have to break his heart like this?!

But yeah, what even is his motive now? It's down the drain now that she's gone.

"Jake, are you okay?"

Oh, so now you care.

"Since when do you care?"

And he said the same thing I said.

"You're always telling me to shut up and leave."

Facts.

"You don't need to pity me."

"I know it's hard, but remember that she'll always be in your heart and in your memories. We can always honor our loves ones by keeping their legacy alive. By lovingly remembering them."

...guys, I didn't start watching this show to cry. I'm gonna be honest.

"I'm saying this because I've been there before."

Oh?

*cuts away*

GOSH DARN IT NO I WANTED TO HEAR THAT! COME ON!

"'The hillbilly girl and wrinkles have no idea what I did' I can't believe it. She's been plotting against us this whole time."

I'm not surprised.

"How could a little girl do this?"

Demon child. CLEAR upbringing issues.

"We have to tell Ellie and Alec!"

"Are they going to believe us?"

They already do!

Though, you can probably get through to Ellie. I can hear her screaming on the inside about her being roped into a villain alliance.

"Do you even cook for your family?"

"Not recently to tell you the truth. Hard to make meals when we're going through a rough patch right now."

You're broke?

The Bucket family?

"I haven't told anyone about this..."

"You can talk to me."

Please talk. We're already eating up a lot of trauma for dinner tonight.

"A couple of years ago, on my husband's birthday, I wanted to surprise him with a cheesecake..."

Oh no from the other episode... I know where this is going.

He died from the cake, didn't he?

"So I told my son to take him to the mall, maybe buy his dad a gift while I baked... but when I had the desert ready, I called them to come back but they never did."

They both died?!

"Apparently a drunk driver hit their car... a head collision... no survivors."

Shit... that's awful.

Why is there so much trauma in this episode?!

"It took me to a dark place for a long time, those two were the only ones I had..."

"I'm so sorry, Miriam."

"It's never easy to lose someone you love. When I heard what happened to your grandmother, it all came flooding back..."

YES. HUG. PLEASE.

PLEEEAASSE WE NEED SOMETHING COMFORTING IN THE MIDST OF THIS HEARTBEAK

Okay how many virtual hugs can we get by the end of this episode?

Is Miriam gonna be nicer to Jake from here on out? I hope so.

"Don't worry. Everything is under control."

I am so bloody confused by these hosts plotline, I'm gonna be honest.

What are you talking about?

I know Tom stole the dude's ID, but why? Is he a criminal?

"Let's say... they didn't send the smartest spy they had."

Oh they ARE talking about Tom.

So Tom does know stuff and he's sus as shit.

So he's not a ninja... I was thinking it would be spy too.

So he's not on the show to win. He's here to stop... whatever these guys are doing.

Also YEAH, they DIDN'T send the smartest spy.

Cause hum diddly hum, I wonder which one among the cast is the impostor? Maybe it's the one guy who never shows his face.

ALSO, he SAW Tom running.

"He didn't see me! I was wearing black! And I was out in the night! I was practically Batman!"

"Yeah but you stick out like a sore thumb during the day and in the sun."

"BUT IT'S THE SUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNN"

"Jake thinks it was Dan and Dan thinks it was Jake."

That's not what they said. I distinctly remember that's not what they said.

"Grett won't let me talk to you."

Yeah it really sucks they're on different teams, cause they seem to get along well.

"Why? She shouldn't get to control you like that."

Thank you Ellie.

She's a good bean and she'll do the right thing when time comes. I'm sure.

"I know, but it's the only way to save myself."

Yeah, being outcasted SUCKS.

I mean, I get it, I've been there in my past. Everyone found me annoying and hated me and would say it to my face. But also, you can't get people walk all over you Gabby.

As a Grett stan, you have permission to leave her behind.

"Let me know if you need someone to talk about it with."

Yes, confide in Ellie. She's a good person too.

Despite, you know, the alliance she's in not being the best choice.

Side with the heroes. You can side with Lilly and Ashley and get rid of Fiore. You'll be one happy family and they'll take you in.

"I like you Gabby. You aren't afraid to speak your mind."

Is that a platonic compliment, or...?

Actually, I can see it.

"Here's an idea, if my team wins, I can offer myself as the representative to make sure you're not in danger."

That sounds like a great plan actually! Do it!

But Ellie I swear to god you leave Jake out of this. Use the pen on Dan!

That pen is the slay pass I granted in the game, and I tell you how you use it!

"And if your team wins, you can do the same."

"You can save me from Fiore using the pen! And I'll be free! It'll be a glorious victory!"

In dream land where everything works out perfectly, that's what happens.

They're actually really sweet. I love that Gabby has a friend to confide with.

I love that Gabby gets to be happy in this miserable world where everyone is traumatized beyond belief!

NO NOT THE CHICKEN

I'm sorry Ashley, but you need to get clotheslined by a clothesline.

Even the birds are bullying Dan.

Awww their little chef wear, that's so cute on them!

"You've done this before?"

"Thank you... I used to cook with my grandmother a lot."

I'm glad he's staying strong for her.

Even Fiore is like "I'm glad I'm not your child!"

"I think we screwed up."

What are you talking about? It's supposed to be screwed up.

You're doing it perfectly.

Idk how fair this is considering one team has more members eating.

Yeah Teal's gotta lose here, right? They have more members...

It also might come at the expense of Miriam if I'm being honest. Just when I was starting to like her.

But that happens. Once you start to like a character on Total Drama, they get eliminated.

"I can't believe what I'm about to say, but... this is delicious!"

Alright, who put DJ's Mama Spice in the mix?!

This face XD

Aaaaaannnnddd we get vomit rockets...

I'm not showing that.

SO... my prediction was completely wrong.

That ended a lot faster than I thought it would.

How are that team gonna function with just three?

"Cooking is my passion. And when Jake and I cooked, I haven't felt that normal in a long time. I guess I judged the boy too soon."

I'm glad Miriam is coming around.

Gabby's the representative, as we established.

"I wanted to use the slay pass you gave me last episode, Golden!"

I'll give it to you sweetie. Use it for whoever. If you want to slay Fiore with it, go right ahead.

"It was convenient for everyone that Gabby volunteered. No one wants to make enemies right now."

You guys all blew your chance of making her an ally a long time ago.

Lilly and Ashley are being very blunt about this. I like it.

"Fiore has been sabotaging our team! And she can't get away with it!"

"Wow..."

What do you mean wow? You know this already.

"Well, who cares?!"

"Not me."

BRUH

"Ellie, you have to help us!"

YES ELLIE! JOIN THEM! GET HER OUT!

"They're just saying that cause they're desperate. Did they reach out to you when they were making their original alliance?"

What's it matter now? Ellie was desperate too back then.

"How did this happen? I went from being in the worst position to deciding the vote! It feels good to have this power."

Ellie... this is gonna sound really bad, but... I can't trust you with a slay pass.

"What do you mean Golden isn't on my side?!"

"SURPRISE BITCHES!!"

QUEEN 👑

"Remember when you vote me out at the first day?!"

"AND HERE I AM. REVENGE IS MINE."

"Gabby has a red marker. She will write the name of one of you and when I read the name of that one unlucky contestant, that person is immediately out!"

"It was a slay pass granted from Golden to Gabby because whoever Gabby hates probably deserves it."

I know how these shows work.

I have the gut feeling...

Ellie's not gonna side with the good guys.

Yep. I was right from the start of this. They're voting Lilly.

"I'm voting for you so you can crawl back to whatever Disney movie your wrinkled which face came from."

Why does she look so evil?

"See, that's why you have bad taste Golden. All the favs you picked are evil and/or have serious issues!"

'LILL'

Yep. We know.

'FIORE'

I feel like it would be hilarious if Gabby wrote Fiore's name.

Ellie would be like, "See, that's what makes me the swing vote! Good or Evil? I choose NEITHER."

'LILL'

'FIORE'

It's Lilly.

RIP.

Ashley, it's up to you cowgirlie! You gotta take up the mantle and survive!

...WELP, YOU SURVIVED FOR TWO SECONDS.

GODDAMMIT.

I had a feeling she was gonna do that.

ELLIE. WHYYYYYYYYYYYY

And why did Gabby use the slay pass on Ashley! I specifically told you to use it on Fiore!!

"I'll give it to you sweetie. Use it for whoever."

I feel like I should blame myself for this happening.

SLAY PASS MISFIRE

"Ellie, why did you do that?"

"I'm sorry Lill, we were getting down to the wire and Fiore could be helpful if we reached the merge."

How would she help you in the merge exactly?! She's a KID. She has limitations! She's not exactly a good alliance member to have.

And who's to say she's not just gonna ditch you after this?

I'm sorry Ellie, but I'm calling you out cause I do not see your logic there.

"Not to throw a hissy fit, but this is seriously unfair!"

I feel like Ashley is saying that to ME specifically.

"GOLDEN YOU LUNATIC REACTIONARY! WHY WOULD YOU GIVE ANYONE A SLAY PASS WILLY NILLY?! AND IT CAME AT THE EXPENSE OF ME!"

"There's three of us and only two of you. Even a six year old can do better math than you."

Fiore secretly takes Algebra. The highest level. And she's a straight A honor roll student.

"Y'all WILL regret this decision!"

Specifically Ellie. She's gonna regret this, I can already tell.

Honestly, Ashley was robbed. I get it, limited episodes, but really? That's how she's eliminated?

Awwwwwwww 💗

At least they're besties till the end.

"Okay, Fiore tricked us. But if she managed to do that with us, she can do the same with the other team."

AND she can do the same to YOU.

"Luckily Ellie and Alec didn't fall for their desperate attempt to throw me under the bus."

They DO know. Alec just doesn't care, and Ellie apparently knows what she's doing.

Honestly, I still feel like Ellie can redeem herself from this, especially if she's merging. She can be the swing vote, see the light, and join the good guys. I don't think she's a bad person at all, she's just playing the cards she's dealt.

I don't have to approve of her plan, but I understand why she has to do it.

I don't blame Gabby either. That was my fault. I'll take the blame for her. I forgive her.

Plus it's also, you know, karma for that alliance.

I was expecting that alliance to lose like, two members before the merge, but DAMN, it COMPLETELY collapsed pre-merge!

Reality TV's Stupidest Alliance everyone!

I was thinking Ashley would lose Lilly, her last ally, and be the outlier of her team trying to survive. Even if she wouldn't last long merge-wise. But when the Tribal Council started I realized, "Nah, Ashley's screwed."

I do feel like she was robbed though and they could do more with her. If she's in Season 3. The red marker is kind of a bullshit move to boot someone, ngl. But I get it, there's only 13 episodes so they had to do a double elimination. The TD Reboot had to do that as well. But really? That's how Ashley gets booted?

I liked her. She was the one reasonable fellow of that alliance.

Lilly... Well, I predicted her pre-merge boot from the very beginning, and I was completely right. And I think she works as plainly that. A pre-merge boot, AKA, an early elimination, with a one note personality that wasn't bitchy. She was also kinda the mom of that group.

I feel like they have to scramble up the teams now, right? Cause Purple has 3 and Teal has 6. It's not really fair that one team has DOUBLE the amount of teammates.

Or maybe because of that they throw someone from Teal to put them on Purple. My bet would be Gabby.

"Gabby, congrats, you're on the Purple Team now."

4-5, and it's a little better.

That would really screw Grett over though. I love her and I love the characterization given to her this episode, but also, I don't expect her to win at all.

If you guys want me to continue these reactions, be sure to let me know.

[imdoingsortagay]

For the Valentine’s Day prompts: 26 with Agatha <3

The Little Things in Life

26. “This reminded me of you.”

word count: 1.1

Love just never seemed to be in the books for Agatha and she had grown used to that. The many years of hiding out from people who wanted to harm her taught her that all that she needed was herself and no other person, that is thought until she had you one day. 

It felt like something in all those cheesy romantic Comedies if she has to be honest. Agatha has volunteered to grocery shop for Wanda while she and vision were at home enjoying being brand new parents to twin sons. She didn’t have anything else do to since she was off work for the day so might as well be helpful to her friend. After a good 10 minutes of shopping and you had gotten her attention by looking at all of the different options for milk. She didn’t blame you cause there was alot. 

“ you know for a beverage like milk, I don’t get why we need so many variations,” Agatha says and you jump a little at not seeing her approach you. 

“ Oh my god,” you squeal, not noticing the brunette pop up next to you, too zoned out in the milk section trying to choose one. 

“ Oh my god, I didn’t mean to scare you-” 

“ It’s fine all fine miss,” you pause to let her introduce herself.

“ Harkness, my name is Agatha Harkness and you must be new in town dear. I know practically everyone in town and I don’t recall seeing you”. 

“ y/n, and yeah this is my second day here in town but this is my first time shopping for groceries without a roommate to help me. Never thought I'd struggle to buy milk of all things.” 

Though Agatha had gotten all the groceries for herself and the Maximoffs, taking some time out of her day to help you wouldn’t hurt at all. 

That one conversation leads to what she considers to this day to be a love story ever after years of just being on her own. She never failed to mention her love for you every day and today was one of those days, as she made her weekly trip to the flower shop in town the owner of the shop had just recently gotten a new order of flowers. 

“ Are these new flowers today Mr. Mansfield?” 

“Always a good eye to notice new things, Harkness,” he says, “ Lucy got a recommendation from our grandson to plant these for a crush of his and we decided it would be a good idea to add them to the shop as well”. God did the older witch love this flower ship and the flowers they had?

20 more minutes of small talk and the witch left with a bouquet for you, one of your favorite drinks, and a cute little stuffed animal that you talk a lot about and she heads off with a smile on her face. Her way of showing her love to you was always gifted and she never failed to notice the way your eyes lit up and how happy her heart felt when you gave her a big hug. 

Once she comes back home, Agatha is greeted at the door by Ebony, who purred in delight to see her back before leaving her to go do his daily exploring. She searches for you all over the house until she finds you in the garage, getting some laundry done. While she would have wanted to surprise you, the sound of the door opening immediately got your attention to greet her with a hug. 

“ Aggie my love bug,” you squeal in delight, always missing her even when she’s been gone a couple of hours. 

“ Did Ebony make sure to protect you from any harm while I was gone ?” 

“ Well, he did until the Minimoffs came over to pick up some stuff for their mom and he just had to act all cute,” you dramatically roll your eyes, and your girlfriend giggles. For a cat who always tried to act like he ruled the house, he seemed to crumble when it came to little attention.

“Ebony,” Agatha starts while grabbing the young cat,” how many times do I tell you that you need to protect my woman here from any danger? I might just have to reduce your pay from a couple treats a week if you continue with this work ethic my dear ebony,” and the cat meows back at the older woman. You giggle at how a strict, mean-looking woman like Agatha Harkness could look so soft and adorable lecturing her cat. 

Once Agatha made sure the Cat understood that she met business, your girlfriend took your hand to lead you to the kitchen where you saw a bouquet of purple Peony flowers, another squishmallow to add to your growing collection, and what seems to be one of your favorite coffee drinks from the local coffee shop. 

“ Did you buy me all this?” and she nods. 

“ Agatha my love, you didn’t even need to buy me all this stuff,” You say looking at the beautiful bouquet she got, the pretty light purple catching your eye. A small squishmallow that you had been looking to buy for the past couple of weeks but never seem to be able to find as everyone seemed to want it and an iced coffee from the shop you go to before heading to work. 

“ This reminded me of you,” she starts,” coffee to treat my baby, the silly stuffed animal that I know you’ve been trying to find in your free time, and the bouquet of Peonies to show all of the love that I have for you. All these little things just remind me about my infinite love for you and I wanted to treat my best girl.” 

Both of you were standing in the kitchen crying, Agatha had always been so fearful and scared of love that when you had come into her life that day in the grocery store, she was forever thankful that she had you in her life after years of being alone. 

Before Agatha started talking more, you placed your lips on hers, showing her that she was loved by you, and how much you appreciated her. After a couple of minutes of an intense makeout session, she pulls you away from her, needing to get some air and she giggles at the look on your face. 

“ I love you aggie,” you tell her. 

“ Love you too sweet y/n,” she says back.

At this moment Agatha realized that It was all the little things that made her so happy to have you in her life.

[blog-reflection]

ONE / Twenty Six - Pixel, Sniffer and Lucian

*But it's such a waste of time to think*.

I removed my head from the glass pane it was leaning on the moment I reached my destination while “Arrow” by polite fiction was blasting through my headphones. It’s about midday and most of the bad weather has already cleared up. I mean it was still cold, and the wind was gently waving bushes left and right, but the rain has gone, so I am happy. The bus stop is about 3 blocks away from Jesse's house. Enough time to think about all the stuff I wanted to tell them. Honestly, I went here to surprise them as a thankyou for helping me with the move but things got rather interesting the last two days so there is alot to report. Though I am not really sure if telling them about Ethan is the right step. I mean, we shared not even 10 messages, there are still enough reasons this whole thing could simply not work out. I mean, I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend anyways so why tell them. I mean, sure they are my best friend but if I would tell them about every person I meet even Jesse would consider me as a sexworker. I mean, they wouldn’t blame me, they’d just be surprised. Nonetheless I’m not telling them. I wouldn’t have told Lucia if she wouldn’t be the person that initiated this whole thing in the first place. I still don’t know if that was a good, or bad Idea. Whatever. 

While walking I also messaged Sarah that I will be back in less than 48 hours, so she’s not too worried. She probably isn't but I agreed to help her paint the wall so it would be kind of an ass move to not show up without informing her. I asked her if it would be possible to wait till I’m back since I really do enjoy painting walls. And yes, I know. If I like painting then why the fuck have I ordered Jesse to paint my own? Well, first things first, I didn’t know they’d be there. Second, they are better. Third, because I simply can. Also I love looking at Jesse painting. It’s so chill, so artistic no they are so chill and artistic…so…nice. And Jesse likes it too and I much rather have them painting a wall then smashing some of my favourite  plants or picture frames. Don’t get me wrong it’s not that I don’t trust them but they can be really clumsy especially if they are holding stuff from others. You can also see that in their place. Because of that, they kind of became a pro in kintsugi. Aka everything they drop, they’ll fix it with gold. It’s really pretty. I mean I did not intend to have a lamp with gold cracks all over but it’s pretty. And yes, they did drop my lamp, twice. On the other hand, my bath now has a really fancy lamp that wasn’t even worth twenty soo I guess Jesse did eventually break something without me bothering too much about it. Nonetheless, there it is, the house of the Owens. Back in the days I always asked my mom “Oh when Can i be at the Owens, Oh when.” I never mentioned my humour was good, but Jesse always laughed about it no matter how crappy it might be. It was a classic house you’d expect in england.Lot’s of bricks on top of each other, a door and several windows. The front door always had a seasonal door wreath which the two made. It’s kind of a tradition around their family. I almost got hit by the door when I was trying to ring. It was Charles, running out of the house like it was on fire. Actually, he was in such a hurry that he knocked me over, leaving me to stumble and fall backwards into the small bushes that were planted alongside the way to the house.

Charles: OH MY GOODNESS JESSE I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU I AM SO SO SORRY!!! James: Ahahaha *snort* Charles: Wait, you’re not my child! Even worse I am so so so so so James: Charles, hey it’s fine haha Charles: Wait, say that again? James: Hand? Please? Charles: OH MY GOD JAMES! Hi, how are you? It's been soooo long! James: Hi big guy. Is everything fine? You seem in a hurry? Charles: Ah I missed the plane anyways, but How are you it’s freezing outside lets get in - Charles: Here, for you. Still like it that way right? James: Yeah, you always made the best hot white choc Charles: Well they do call me the hot choc master James: Uh hu, sure Charles: No really, back in kindergarten, I made the best choc. It was not drinkable, but it looked nice! But, how come you are here? James: Well, actually I wanted to surprise Jesse but it seems like they are not around Charles: Yeah, they meet up with a friend from school. A bit like you too did back in the days. Do you miss it? James: Can I be honest? I’m not really sure. Alot of stuff was shitty, but I had good memories too. And I can’t blame everything on my shit dad or my addict mom so Charles: Is…is Mildret back in rehab? James: Not sure, could be. Charles: Haven’t you talked with her? James: Ha, no. She helped me with the move and that was the last time I’ve seen her. Charles: I see. James: I know it must be strange to you and Jesse not to have a mother around so, I’m sorry if it makes you feel strange. Jesse never told me what happened to their mom, you…wife? Sorry I shouldn’t have said that. Charles: It’s fine, no hard feelings kid. She died when Jesse was way too little to remember her. Ever since we got just the two of us.I think we did well, haven’t we? James: OH no you did awesome. Jesse turned out so amazing. Charles: Haha, thanks. Sometimes I think I might have been a shit dad myself, but they never have been mean about me always being on the run. James: Speaking of, where were you heading when I came here? Charles: Oh nothing big, just a flight. I’ll catch the next one. James: but isn’t Charles: OH FUCK

Charles jumped off, grabbed his bag, hugged me and then hurried out the door like when I was there. Thistime, he made it without any incidents. I heard a voice fading in the distance

Voice: Hi Dad - Voice: Bye Dad

 I’ll be honest, I was quite curious about what happened at the front of the house. I grabbed the closest blanket, threw it around me like a cape, grabbed my pot of hot choco and went to the door. Charles left in such a hurry so the door was still left wide open. I’ve decided to just stand in the door, facing the street. I’ve seen how Charles got into his car and drove off, but I’ve also seen Jesse getting closer to the house. They had headphones on and if there is one thing we both have in command it’s that we hear or nothing besides the music, so I wasn’t surprised that it took Jesse so long to see that I was standing in the door.

Jesse: JAMES! YOU? HERE? James: Yeah it be I Jesse: Oh my good it’s gold get in or else you’ll get sick. James: Yes  lad Jesse: Oh fuck off. Who let you in? James: Ehm? Charles? Who else is the neighbourhood kitten? Jesse OH have you seen them? They have like 3 little cats all grey. I named them Pixel, Sniffer and Lucian. Coffee? James: I’m ehm, fine? Are you though? You seem almost as stressed as your dad Jesse: Oh me? Nah I’m fine I’m just cold ass fuck James: Wait, you’re cold? What can happen? Jesse: Duh? I mean when I get sick, the first thing that happens is that I get cold. But no worries, that’s only for the first 48 hours, after that I’m back on heat. Mind if I take a bath? James: Damn you must be really sick Jesse: Huh? James: Since when do you ask? Jesse: Because? Ugh here, that’ll keep you warm

Jesse handed me a cup of coffee, even though I disagreed like not even ten minutes ago. But they do seem all over the place. Oh well, maybe school. Lucia said that a lot of teachers, mentors and so on are really stressing their teens with lessons. With a cup in each hand and the blanked still all over me I followed Jesse into the bath upstairs. When I arrived at the door Jesse was already standing in front of the bathtub, only in their olive coloured Calvin Klein underwear. The water was filling and Jesse was adding liquid that started to bubble as soon as it touched the water's surface and within seconds the entire house had a scent of cherry and perfume all over. I took a seat in front of the bathtub as Jesse walked into the water. I leaned my head on the border, so did Jesse. The entire house was silent. I heard Jesse slowly breathing in, and out. In…and out. The speed of the breathing was as calm as a soft wind on a summer day in spring. It felt like the both of us would lay on a grassy hill…just after school.

When…..When the sunStarted to uhm…..Sun…hehe shiny sun.

[dollmother]

i remember the clubhouse i went to after school. a medium sized building in the park where there was a community of kids around my age and teenagers from the neighboring high school. they were usually there for different reasons, mine was because my mom was caught up toiling away at her salon working long hours. being told to go there and wait for her so i wouldn't be home alone. where i'm not trusted to be alone. at any point while i was just 12, or 14, i could've taken the bus home. do whatever i wanted, away from everyone else. there were many days i fantasized about just being alone. but i kept going back to that club house after school and waited for her.

she wouldn't pick me up until 7pm at the latest. sometimes even later depending on how late each of her customers came through the door. if there were customers that came in after...well, she would work with her clients and stay late.

i remember being the only child left behind at the outdoor entrance of that clubhouse. every single day i sat there at the ledge in front of their grass lawn. i remember that place vividly. the big tree surrounded by a solid row of bench made of cobblestone. the smaller rather empty building that was usually closed off to the kids. the ledge that you could sit on in front of the aloe vera plants decorating the big windows in the front. how could i not remember? i was there almost every day waiting for her.

it was policy for the supervisors there to make sure the kids weren't unattended. it was unsafe for a small, weak, scrawny kid to be left by himself. vulnerable. god forbid some suspicious character arrived at the scene and took advantage of him. i was lucky. at the same time, i began to feel bad for the staff there. their shift ended around 7pm, and i was often there almost an hour after. bless their kind hearts, they had stayed overtime to take care of me. i didn't want to be a burden to anyone, yet it always felt that way. i would see the relief in their eyes when my mom's car pulled up in the driveway.

i remember clearly what it felt like seeing red. for me, red wasn't such an alarming color--not in that sense anyways. red was a sight for relief. a respite to the anxiety i felt, a emotion i couldn't quite gather words for at the time. though i found myself stuck in this position for days on end, i never really got used to that feeling.

things were much worse during a time when you really didn't have a phone. sure, it was nice to have a hand-me-down from your sister. but all it did was call and tell you the time. things got scary during the winter seasons. when the sun left the horizon earlier than usual, sometimes i would find myself waiting in the dark, dimly lit park bench and alone. it was cold. and i was alone. reminiscing on those memories i still feel the fear welling in my chest. i was a worrisome kid, anxious and couldn't keep still. whether it was from my nervousness or boredom, i found myself pacing around the general vicinity of the club house while my thoughts raced around in the cluttered maze of my own mind. there, i spent the most time talking to my own head---

oh i remember one time when i had been waiting, after the staff left for home, by myself on that green bench in front of the empty building i mentioned. it was really late tonight, i thought. mom isn't picking up my calls, when i'd been calling her countless times. for the first time in a while, i felt all that fear of the other days manifest itself intensely. in my head there was nothing but chaos. overthinking, ruminating, my vivid imagination would betray me now.

then in those moments, i thought about what might've happened to my mom. could she have gotten in a car accident? or has something much worse happened to her? i was genuinely scared. then it came back to me. i thought about my father, who passed almost a decade ago in his office suddenly. in one long night where i sunk deep into the pit of empty space. floating, sinking, trapped in a pit of one of the longest nights of my life. four hours felt like a week. there were a thousand different thoughts fight its way to give voice. would she abandon me like he did now? what would become of me, of us had something terrible like that happened?

in those moments, i went through a simulation of loss and grief. what would i do if she left me? stuck here, alone? i thought of her more than anything. praying to a god i never truly believed in that she would be okay. praying for her safety, that her not answering any of my calls just meant she was driving to pick me up.

I was scared to death but in those moments, some part deep inside me felt relief as i thought about a future without her. i realized i hated my mother when the rare times i tasted freedom, was in some abandonment trauma induced fantasy of a life had something bad occurred that night.

i think about all those nights i stayed behind when everyone else had left. all those staff that remained behind with me, making sure i was safe just for a little longer. i never thanked them enough for what they'd done for me. i wish not that i could. now when i recall these childhood memories, i hope that they do know that dumb little kid was grateful. looking back, i think i took the community there for granted at times. they had done so much for me even after the little i've given back. made me into the person i am now. i guess the lesson in all of this was that there is still good left in this world. there were genuinely good people there. and for what? they never got the fair compensation they deserved. i hope they're all doing well, maybe now i can return to that old place---if they're still there.

[chaoticforever]

End Of The Line | Yandere Steve Rogers x Male! Reader

A/N: Got a request for a Teacher Steve x student male reader. Reader is 18 and Steve is 22.

"C'mon dude. We have to leave now, especially if the Janitor comes in here." 

You stood up from your position on the floor as Michael pulled his pants up, zipping it up as he shook his head, rubbing your slightly hard member over the thick fabric of your pants. 

"Don't worry, he won't be coming back any time soon. 20 bucks is all he needed to let us use this room," He told you as he continued to rub his hands over the outline of your member, sucking on your neck, "Just relax for me, babe. You gave me a blowjob, so I want to return the favor. Please let me blow you. I'll make you feel good and I know you want it." He whispered in your ear. 

Ugh, you hated the way he made you feel because you did want it. Very bad. 

He unbuckled your belt and your senses came rushing back to you, causing you to back away from him as he pouted.

"Unfortunately, we can't." You insisted, buckling your belt back up and grabbing your bag, watching as he did the same, "You know that Principal Fury is waiting for a chance to bust us for skipping again, so we can get kicked out of school during our senior year. He's always hated us and wants us gone." 

"But he can't kick us out! Were seniors!" 

"Despite us being seniors, he still can," You sighed and Michael pouted very cutely, "Stop pouting so cutely, okay? We can finish what we started at my house. My parents will be out until pretty late." 

Michael grinned and planted a kiss on your lips, "Okay, I'll hold you to it." 

You rolled your eyes and took a note out of your pocket, handing it to him as he took it, looking confused, "That note will excuse you for being late for class. I forged your mom's signature and don't question how I did that." You added in, seeing the questioning look he sent you. 

Michael read over the note and he was amazed how much it looked like his mom's handwriting, "I have the coolest boyfriend in the world. Were gonna forge signatures more often." 

"Uh-huh, sure. Go to class now, Mikey."

You gave him a kiss and left the janitor's closet, heading to your first period. 

You opened the door and walked inside, "I'm sorry that I'm late, Mr. Evans, but-" You paused, finally seeing that the teacher was not Mr. Evans but someone else, "You're not Mr. Evans." 

The blonde teacher shook his head, "No, I'm Mr. Rogers. You're new teacher. Who are you and why are you late for class?" 

Oh fuck. Guess you had another strict teacher. Though, you found it a little strange that his eyes seemed to look over your form, and also seemed to be outright gawking at you. 

You placed the note that had your mom's signature on the desk and walked over to your seat, giving your friend your bag as he took it gracefully. 

"Sorry, for being late, sir. I had a doctors appointment." You sat down next to Matt and totally missed the way Mr. Rogers' whole body tensed at the word sir. 

"Yeah, and I bet this appointment involved having your dick examined." George Brockers said from the other side of the room, knowing where you really were.

Everyone in this class knew that you were in the Janitors closet with Michael.

Some of the class snickered along with George. 

"Yes. That's right, George. And while I was there I ran into your gynecologist, who told me to remind you to keep your vagina clean unless you want a foot up your ass." You responded without looking at him, as laughs and giggles filled the room and George stayed silent.

"Alright class, settle down! Get back to work now!" Mr. Rogers ordered sternly, as his baby blue eyes looked at... you? 

XXXXX XXXXX

Three months have passed since Mr. Rogers became your new teacher and he was...something. That's the right word for you blonde teacher. 

Strange is a word to describe him, too. 

For starters, he had decided to place you in the front seat of the classroom, away from Matt and Harry, despite you all being seniors and he seemed to stare  at you a lot which creeped you out. 

There's also the fact that he managed to show up wherever you were. At the restaurant where you worked and would sometimes stay until closing, somehow  he got to stand near you at the carnival when you were there with Michael, and that his arm seemed to graze over your arm when he tried to help you with work. 

When you brought it up to Michael, his only response was that you were just overreacting, and you may have been overreacting a little now that you thought about it, so you decided not to think about Mr. Rogers anymore and spend time with your boyfriend. 

You two spent some time together at the park, eating ice cream as Michael kept trying to steal some of yours, before deciding to head back to your place. 

Once you entered your house, the smell of food immediately entered your nostrils and you knew that your mom was cooking some tasty food. 

"Hey mom! I'm back and something smells really good. What are you cook-" 

You stopped midway and closed your mouth at seeing Mr. Rogers sitting on the couch with your mom and dad. 

Did you forget to mention that you and Mr. Rogers were neighbors, too? 

"What are you doing here, Mr. Rogers?" 

Mom stood up from her spot on the couch, "Steve has brought up some concerns about you and we would like to talk to you alone. Michael, I'm sorry you came here, but we really need to speak with our son alone. Can you leave now?"

"He doesn't need to leave. You can say what you have to say in front of him." You stated firmly, tightening your grip on his hand as your dad shook his head, standing up as well. 

"I don't want that son of a bitch corrupting my son anymore! Get out of my house, Michael!" Your Dad shouted. 

"Whoa! Dad don't shout-" 

"Don't tell me what I can do in my house, okay?" Dad exclaimed, turning to face Michael, "Now get out of my house!" 

Michael released your hand and walked towards without saying a word as you ran after him.  

"Wait Michael!" You called out after him, but he didn't stop walking. He walked out of your house and hopped into his car, taking off down the road. You sighed and walked back inside your house to face your parents, and your teacher, "Well, he's gone. Now talk." 

"Look son, we think it's best that you stop seeing Michael immediately."

"Why would I do that?" You questioned, "And why would you even ask me to do that when you know that I love him?" 

"Sweetie, we have noticed how different you've been acting lately and we know that Michael is the reason for it," Mom spoke up next, "Mr. Rogers has informed us about you skipping class, your grades dropping to a low percentage, and that you have been making out with Michael along with drinking alcohol."

You now turned to face Rogers, "Oh, so you're telling my parents about all the things I do now, huh? Do you do this with other students, or is it just me?" 

"I'm only expressing my concerns to your parents the same way I do with my other students as well," He told you, but you didn't believe him, "And if I'm being honest with you, Michael isn't the greatest of all guys to be with."

"Hmm, well good thing I didn't ask for your honesty on my relationship!" 

"Don't raise your voice at adults, Y/N!" Dad scolded, "Now, Mr. Rogers has a point. That boy has corrupted you. Changed you completely. And I'm not going to stand by and let this continue."  

"You know, I don't get y'all. Out of all people, I thought that you both would see that Michael is a good person, and makes me a better person. He makes me happy and I thought that would be enough for you guys to like him, but looks like I was wrong. Once again." 

You walked upstairs to your room, but not before shooting Steve a glare as you retreated to your room, ignoring your parents. You flopped on your bed angrily, as you closed your eyes. 

"That damn Rogers." You muttered angrily, as your eyes remained closed and soon you drifted off to sleep. 

XXXXX XXXXX

Steve stood inside your bedroom, watching as you slept. 

He managed to come in here by telling your parents that he had to use the bathroom along with trying to see if you would be okay with being tutored, and they agreed to his request. 

God, you looked so cute when you were sleeping, but you looked even hotter when you were upset which he loved watching you being angry downstairs. 

The blonde haired male had become obsessed with you ever since he saw you on his first day of school. 

He knew that it was wrong. 

You were his student and he was your teacher. Relationships between the two were forbidden. But you were both adults. He was only 22 years old, and you were 18. Only a four year difference. You were an angel. His angel. 

Steve unbuckled his belt and slid down his jeans along with his boxers. 

He wrapped his hand around his cock, and stroked it slowly at first as images of you entered his mind. 

The blue eyed male imagined you bent over the counter as he plunged his dick into your juicy, delicious hole. Him dominating you, as you cried out his name, him stroking your cock. Or him plunging his finger into your tight hole, watching as he had you pinned under him, looking so helpless and desperate. 

All of those dirty thoughts ended up becoming filthier and filthier, causing Steve to pick up his pace. He strokes himself harder and faster, letting out a little moan. Luckily, that moan wasn't loud enough to wake you up. He guessed you were a deep sleeper. 

"Oh, Y/N..." He stroked his cock harder, thrusting becoming more rapid, heart rate increasing as his chest moved up and down. He reached his orgasm, "Mine." White come got all over your sheets and some of your body, as you face twitched slightly in response. 

Steve ran a hand through his hair,  pulling his pants and boxers up. 

He needed to leave for two reasons. 

To change his clothes, and get out of here before either you or your parents saw him in here. He left, but not before grabbing your dirty underwear in the hamper. He needed something of yours until he takes you for himself. He needs you now and he's going to have you. 

...By hook or by crook. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

You blinked your eyes open after some time and sat up with a groan. The first thought running through your mind was, 'What the fuck is on my face?' 

You lifted your hand to touch your face and some sticky, white substance was on your face. What the fuck is this? 

When you looked down at your light blue sheets, you saw how it seemed to be drenched in something. 

Did you masturbate? No, you didn't. And you didn't have a wet dream cause you would have remembered it, and there's no way that it could have got on your face. 

Deciding not to dwell on this anymore, you went to your bathroom that was connected to your room and washed your face really good since you didn't know what the hell it was. 

Upon returning to your room, you peaked out your window to see that your parents car wasn't here. Good. You took your phone off the charger and called Michael. 

"Hey N/N." 

"Hey Michael. I'm so sorry for the way my parents acted towards you today." 

"Don't worry about it, love. It's okay." 

"But it's not okay. You've been nothing, but a good boyfriend to me and you didn't deserve any of that." 

"Seriously man, it's alright. Your parents were just being overprotective of you, and I understand where they're coming from." 

You smiled on the other side of the phone. You had the best boyfriend and also the toughest boyfriend ever. 

"Well, I'm really glad you're ok after all of that. And do you wanna pick me up and hang out today, or have you had enough of the L/N family for one day?" 

"I'll come pick you up and hopefully your parents aren't home because there is something I want to do to you that your parents wouldn't appreciate." 

You grinned, "Lucky for you, they aren't here right now and probably won't be for a while. Wow Michael, maybe you really are corrupting me. You're a bad boy." 

"Oh, I'm the baddest and I plan on corrupting you to the fullest," You both laughed and the sound of his laugh was so soothing to your ears, "I'll see you later, sweetcheeks." 

"I'll see you later, tree biscuit." 

You hung up the phone and placed it on the bed. You couldn't wait for him to get here. 

Until he arrives, you decide to watch TV and put on one of those Marvel movies. To be quite honest, you found it awfully strange how Mr. Rogers and your chemistry teacher, Mr. Stark looked a lot like the actors in the movie, Chris Evans and Robert Downey Jr. Almost identical. 

Weird right? 

XXXXX XXXXX 

You paused the movie midway when you got a text message on your phone. 

Open the door. ~Michael. 

Excitement fluttered through you like a drug and you ran downstairs, opening the door. You frowned, not seeing him anywhere, but his car was parked in front of your house, his dark windows made it impossible for you to see him through it. 

You made a mental note to talk to him about that. You went over to his car and opened the door, "C'mon Michael, let's-" You paused midway, finally getting a good look at your boyfriend and you screamed. 

His body was in the front seat of the car, blood covering most of his body with a knife jammed into his side. You checked his pulse and let out a little sigh of relief that he had a pulse. A fading pulse, but a pulse nonetheless. 

He could be okay. But you didn't understand who would do this to him, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because you'd have to hurry or he would die. 

You ran back inside and upstairs to get your phone, but it was gone. What? You left it on the bed. You were sure of it. 

Music suddenly started playing throughout your house and it was a song you knew all too well. This was you and Michael's song that you both listened to when he asked you out. 

You walked down the stairs cautiously, but not before grabbing the emergency knife you kept in your closet for safety reasons. 

"Hello Y/N," Steve's voice came from behind you, causing you to turn around. He stood there with flowers in his hand as he sent you a dashing smile, "I got you your favorite flowers and I know that this is your favorite song." 

"What are you doing in my house?!" You screamed, holding the knife in front of you defensively when you saw him take a step forward. 

"I'm here for you. I'm here to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Despite being my student, I know that you are the one for me. We are meant to be together. I know it. Will you go out with me?" He asked, taking another step forward. 

You shook your head and watched as his face morphed into anger real quick,  "No, you sick fuck!" 

You stabbed him in the thigh as he winced in pain. You ran to the door, but was yanked back into his chest with one hand as he dropped the flowers on the floor with his other hand and used it to take the knife out of his thigh, wincing. 

He turned you around to face him and gripped your arms possessively. 

"You are so damn lucky that I love you. Even when you stabbed me, I can't hate you. I love you too much. I killed Michael for us to be together and I'm not letting you leave me," He kissed you forcibly, sucking on your earlobe, "Can't wait to breed you. You're going to be a good boy for me and let me breed you like the good bitch you are. To suck on your cock will be a dream come true for me and I won't have to imagine myself with your dirty underwear I stolen from your room or the cameras I had installed here." 

Of course, it wouldn't actually work because you were two guys and couldn't have a child, but what made it hotter was the fact that you couldn't. 

He loved the feeling of having complete control over you right now. It brought him great joy since you now knew who was in charge here. 

"You're mine, Y/N. You're mine as much as I'm yours and as you know, I'll kill anyone who dares to take you away from me. It's gonna be me and you until the end of the line." 

XXXXX XXXXX

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | Drabble 5

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Another little drabble! It's hard to give this couple up 🥺 this is also a scene that was basically deleted from the main series, so it's been given a time jump! I didn't want people to think it was a cliche moment (it kinda is) but...I think this gives some good clarity on how the MC has grown! Unedited as on mobile.

-

"Do you think your mom will like this?" You query, brows farrowing together as you turn the elegantly decorated plant pot around in your hands. It would match her current living room decor and she loved gardening.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah...why?" Hoseok asks with a distracted tone, his attention grabbed with the collection of fake plants. The two of you had come to a home decoration store as you wanted to redecorate your bedroom. He wasn't hugely interested in how it was done and you were pretty sure that he was here just to spend time with you.

Which was sweet and you loved that he was content to just be with you, but he wasn't being very helpful right now.

"...her birthday? It's next week, we're taking her out for dinner, remember?" He pauses for a moment before his lips turn into a circle.

"Oh yeah, shit. I need to book the table for that." Before you can say anything else, he's pulling out his phone and tapping away on it.

Sighing, you place the pot into the cart and begin to look with an eye for your bedroom. You wanted to inject more plants into the house but Kasumi just tried to eat real ones, so you were stuck with fake plants.

"How about C'est Bonne? Wait no, she doesn't like French food. Hmmm, Italian feels boring though. Do you think she'd like Thai, I think that'd be alright." Hoseok is muttering to himself as he scrolls and you smile affectionately.

To say he'd completely forgotten, you weren't surprised that he was throwing himself into it now.

"Hoseok?" For a moment, neither of you respond. You, because it wasn't your name and so you weren't conditioned to respond to it, and Hoseok because it wasn't your voice.

His head jerked up in confusion, gaze going to you first before looking around. The voice calls again from your left and you turn to see who it is, wondering who was calling out your husband's name.

What you didn't expect is for Hoseok's face to open in surprise, shocked recognition taking over his expression. Like, real shock and you're even more confused and intrigued.

"Yoona?" He asks, his tone slightly unsure and you realise it's obviously someone he once knew. You've heard him mention the name at some point, but you can't remember why you know it.

"It is you! Oh my god, it's so good to see you. How long has it been?" The woman in question, Yoona, smiles brightly and you observe that she's pretty. Very pretty with the kind of hair you see in commercials.

She's wearing plain black jeans that conform to her legs alongside a subtly flowered shirt. Her black pea coat tops it off with a matching deep purple scarf and beanie to cope with the colder weather.

"Err...a while." Hoseok laughs, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck and you recognise the awkward movement. He's a little uncomfortable and your stomach turns as you wonder if this is one of his hook ups.

Surprisingly, you'd never met one of them given how prolific he'd been. Though you did wonder how many of them had also been drunk and probably didn't remember him at all.

Still, you feel the urge to comfort him and move closer, resting your hand on his back in assurance. He straightens a little at the touch before relaxing into you, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulder and hugging you into him a little more strongly than you'd anticipated.

"Oh, Meeps this is Yoona, the girl in college who got me to sort my shit out?" Hoseok's brows rise as his voice turns dry before he looks back at Yoona. "This is Y/N, my wife."

Her eyes flick over to you and surprisingly enough, she doesn't give you a once over. You almost expected her to view you as some kind of threat or rival, but the reassuring smile she gives makes you realise how silly that would be.

"Really? Oh my god, Hoseok! I'm so happy for you, and for you, Y/N! I always knew he had the makings of a good partner, even if he couldn't see it. I'm glad you finally took my advice." Yoona says before reaching out to shake your hand politely.

Surprisingly, it's not nearly as awkward as you'd think to meet one of your husband's ex-flings. Especially one who'd had such an influence on his life.

"Erm, thank you. Hoseok's talk about you sometimes, thank you for helping him back then." You say shyly, feeling your stomach twist uncertainly as you take your hand back and play with your fingers.

Just like he always has, Hoseok instinctively knows when you're not comfortable and he reaches for one of your hands. 

"I've told her lots of things over the years," He grins before kissing your forehead. "My therapy was very good, I promise."

That's directed to Yoona who laughs sweetly and nods in appreciation.

"Good, good, I'm glad. Anyway, I've got to be going but...it was nice to see you! And I'm really happy that you've found someone. I'd love to get to know you better but I'm sure you're amazing. Gotta be to have captured this guy's attention." She smiles and gestures towards you, causing you to feel hot with embarrassment.

"Erm, thank you." You mutter, unsure of how to react. But you're surprisingly okay with her and don't feel any form of threat, even with her important history with Hoseok. It was clear there were no feelings between either of them and you genuinely felt that she was a good person.

Before either of you could say anything else, she said her goodbyes and headed towards the cashiers at the front of the store. There was a brief moment of silence as you both tried to compute what had happened and Hoseok recovered quicker than you did.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his words laced with concern that matched the worry in his eyes. You knew why he was feeling like that - Yoona was beautiful, once upon a time he'd slept with her and she'd helped him realise how to move forward. Or at least take the steps there.

If this had happened in the first year of your relationship then you probably would feel disconcerted, unsure what to think about this blast from his past. But you weren't that girl anymore, and whilst you still had your anxieties, you had full and complete faith in Hoseok.

Plus, he'd been as blindsided by her as you were. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was nice to finally meet the famous Yoona, she seemed nice." You comment, slipping your arm through his and leaning against him as you both walked towards the bedroom section. Bring so close to him meant that you could practically feel him relax at your words.

"Good, good. I didn't...well I didn't know what to think, really. I was worried you'd be upset or something." Hoseok admits, trailing his hand down your coat sleeve until he can grasp your fingers between his own.

"No, I know all about your history and it was only a matter of time before we met someone. And like I said, she was sweet." There's still some uneasiness in his demeanour though and you squeeze his hand before gently poking the back of it with a finger.

The movement makes him smile and you feel relief at him looking a little happier.

"Seriously, I'm okay. Are you okay?" It was probably a big thing to accidentally meet up with such an important fling, but but could understand why he wasn't comfortable with it all.

That was a part of his past that he wasn't entirely happy with colliding with his very happy present. So you just held on to him as he worked through his feelings.

"Yeah...yeah I am. It was just weird to see her, you know? Never expected that." He let's his free hand trail over a soft, velvet cushion idly and you hum in contemplation.

"I get it. But don't fret over it, okay? I'm fine with it all and...well, it was nice to meet the woman who helped to bring the Hoseok I know to life. Or at least, started the process. Without her, we wouldn't be here."

Hoseok is silent as he considers that, his lips twisting before he licks at his lip ring and nods.

"Yeah, you're right. She's the one part of my past that I'm okay with you seeing in person. I should've thanked her…" Muttering, he sighs before shrugging with a lopsided smile.

"Oh well, let's carry on shopping. Your decorations await! And I need to finish booking that table...I'm actually thinking of maybe trying that Lebanese place…"

[nanaminokanojo]

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 2/3

CHARACTERS: Sukuna X You | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Maki | Fushiguro Toji | Baby Megumi | Megumi's Mom (OC) CHAPTER COUNT: 2/3 WORD COUNT: 8600+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | (eventual) smut | ooc sukuna | female reader | modern au CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity/strong language | alcohol use | age gap | some mentions of death | mild sexual content SPOILERS: N/A

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

You got up really early despite staying up late and only getting five hours of sleep max, but once you woke up, you knew you wouldn’t be able to get back to bed so you prepared for the day, waiting for Sukuna’s call. You went to the patio which faced the backyard, carried a small blanket and brought your battered copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s prose collection with you.

A few hour later, you heard stirring in the house and it wasn’t long before Satoru found you. He sat on the lounge chair opposite yours and just stared at you through sleepy eyes. He looked all disheveled, eyes bloodshot and yawning several times. He really couldn’t handle his alcohol and when he wakes up after drinking more than he could take, he always ends up befuddled and unable to make sense of his surroundings, not to mention irritable.

When he just sat there without saying anything and staring at you, you snapped your book close. “What is it?”

He snapped out of a seeming trance. “Oh. You have a guest.”

“Huh?”

“Ieiri said it’s Howard.” He yawned again, stretching his arms.

“Sukuna?”

“Yes, him.”

You scrambled off the lounge chair, nearly knocking it to the side with your weight as you half crawled, half-ran towards the door, suddenly remembering your agreement the previous night. You were mentally slapping yourself as you made your way into the hallway, planning to go up to your room to have a change of clothes. You weren’t sure what he wanted to do because he did not exactly specify that bit.

However, your plans did not come into fruition when you passed by the lattice wood and glass partition between the kitchen and the hallway and saw him.

“Y/N!” Ieiri pretty much yelled your name out, calling your attention and making you jump, startled. “Howard’s here.”

Sukuna glanced at her momentarily, probably catching the name she referred to him with.

The protest died in your throat when you saw Sukuna standing by the counter, looking so out of place in such a domestic setting although he was dressed casually in a black tee with a wide collar that exposed his collarbones for the world to see and faded jeans, similar to the one he wore that time he came to your school.

You grimaced at the realization that you were just standing there like an oaf, checking him out. It was evident in the way his smile morphed into a shy one as he bit his lower lip while Ieiri and Suguru grinned evilly at you. Feigning ignorance to their reactions, you entered the kitchen, brows knit together, shooting Ieiri an inquisitorial look after nodding at Sukuna’s direction. It was a dumb way of greeting people, but that was about what you could manage with the way your brain was being fried at the mere sight of him.

“I didn’t know we received guests in the kitchen now,” you commented, noticing the number of grocery bags on the counter. “You did the shopping?”

“I did,” Sukuna answered you. “I told you I was going to do something for you.”

“'You' being the technical term,” you said with a smirk when you realized what he was planning. “So you’re gonna cook for me?”

“Yes.”

You eyed your two friends who were eyeing Sukuna in anticipation. “Just me?”

“Stingy,” Ieiri commented, pouting.

Woman, you thought, eyeing her sternly in case she had plans to say something embarrassing. You spoke before she could say more, approaching Sukuna who was suddenly just looking at you, your eyes in particular. Out of a sudden, he reached out and touched the spot just under your left eye, making you step back at the sudden contact. He was touchy, you knew that, but you weren’t expecting him to be so candid in front of your friends on such a setting.

“Your eyes are swollen. Is something the matter?”

You smiled at him then, shaking your head. “I didn’t sleep enough last night.” You busied yourself by checking the things he bought. “So…” You looked at his pretty hands then at him. “The Spring God can cook?”

He gave you a funny look at the nickname you gave him. “Watch the Kitchen God work!” He chuckled then turned his attention to Ieiri. “I was just asking Ieiri if I could borrow the kitchen.”

“It’s more Suguru’s kitchen than hers,” you sniped at her who was now sitting on the counter, chin on the heel of her palm as she looked at the pair of you as if she was watching a really cheesy romance drama.

“Then it’s settled. I have to cook for them, too.” He ruffled your hair then. “Mind helping me?”

“I’ll leave you kids then,” she said sounding like a mom, leaving the kitchen and blocking Satoru’s progress when he was about to enter, leading him out into the living room much to the latter’s annoyance.

You shook your head, snickering. You really couldn’t wrap yourself around the fact that Sukuna could cook. “Should I get you an apron, chef?” you asked, meaning to taunt him, but then he took out a rolled-out piece of black cloth from a black case he brought along with the groceries and said, “I brought my own.”

Knowing that you can’t say anything else to annoy him about cooking, you started sorting out the things he brought, taking them out of the bags and fixing them in an organized way on the counter while he proceeded to take the foodstuff to the sink. All the while, you were watching him as he cleaned everything, his dexterous hands moving with precision and unmistakable expertise.

After fixing everything and putting away the bags, you stood beside him on the sink. “You do this a lot?”

“Pretty much.”

It was fascinating to watch him work so you didn’t say anything else until he took the case again and produced a professional-looking set of knives with customized handles. “Okay, now I’m scared.” You arched a brow at him. “Why the hell do you have a knife set?”

“I love to cook,” he answered, laughing slightly without taking his eyes from what he was doing.

“I figured, but I thought, you know just cooking at home, following online recipes and stuff like that.”

At that, he laughed. “Those recipes don’t work half the time.”

“Oh, okay,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his sentiment but then you saw how he was cutting the ingredients on the chopping board like a pro. “I’ll be damned.”

“What?”

“Now I mind assisting you. I refuse.” You felt a bit miffed about his mad skills in the kitchen, and you knew it would be foolish to even question how his dish, or dishes rather, was going to turn out. It got you thinking about every other thing he can possibly do, and you found yourself falling deeper. “I’m shit in the kitchen. You can have Suguru to help you.”

“But I already asked him for help yesterday to plan all this.”

“Did you now?” Your eyes flicked over to the counter that divided the kitchen and the living room and glared at your friend, remembering your conversation with him. He threw you a rueful smile.

Sukuna pouted. “You can’t take it back. Surely, you can chop onions.”

“I guess.” You took out a knife from the rack and grabbed an onion. “How do you like it?”

“Minced.”

“Okay.” You started chopping the thing rather slowly, trying to be precise, but since you were taking too long, your eyes started watering before you could even get it halfway done. “Ah, shit!” you grumbled, putting the knife down rather harshly.

Sukuna laughed, turning you around so you were facing him. “Are you okay?” he asked in between laughter, wiping your tears away with some paper towels. “You were too slow.”

You screwed your eyes shut, still feeling the sting behind your eyelids. “Well, I don’t cook.” When you opened your eyes, you almost stopped breathing when you saw those dark orbs of his directly in front of you.

“Oh no, sweetheart, you’re crying,” he cooed.

“Onion…” You took the paper towel from him and started wiping your eyes yourself, turning away from him when you saw the teasing beam on his face. “Shut up.”

“You’re cute.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.”

“I’m cooking for you, and I’m annoying? Let’s see how that opinion changes once you taste this masterpiece.”

You did not say anything about the matter anymore and instead watched him work, handing him this and that and doing as he tells you. Sukuna was kinda scary to work with since he obviously had a fixed process about how things should be done, but at the same time, you found yourself mesmerized by his fluidity as he moved around as if he had been in the kitchen his whole life.

“What are you making anyway?” you asked as you were putting away the things he didn’t need anymore.

He looked over his shoulder as he stirred whatever he was making. “That’s a secret.”

You shrugged, looking into the pot. “Just tell me already.”

He placed his free arm around your waist, pulling you to his side, seemingly oblivious to the three pairs of eyes which looked towards the direction of the kitchen every so often, spying on the two of you. “Patience, sweetheart. You’re gonna spoil the surprise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you whined.

He planted a quick kiss on your forehead. “You’ll see.”

By the time Sukuna was done, your dining room looked more like a five-star restaurant than that of one owned by four university students. Well, the table did. You weren’t really familiar with the dishes he prepared since he won’t tell you what they were. You only recognized the lobster thermidor, but all the others were a mystery.

Your friends were thrilled when they saw the table and you were just stunned. You pretty much just watched Sukuna, but he didn’t let you see what he was doing in the dining room, making you promise to sit down in the pantry while he prepared. He went overboard, but you loved it, too.

“I feel like I’m going to pay with all the contents of my bank account after this meal,” Suguru said as he sat down at the edge of the table, making Sukuna laugh.

You sat to his left while the chef sat beside you, explaining the dishes to you and the three other people with you with such technical terms, half of which you didn’t really understand. Suguru did though. Sukuna plated the first dish and offered it to them.

“I hope you would find them to your liking,” he said.

“Y/N’s grandpa would be super impressed if he was here to see this,” Ieiri asked.

You snorted. “Oh my god, Ieri, what are you being such a pain for?” You turned to Sukuna then who looked at you questioningly, but you pretended not to notice. “And you, chill and eat. They can get their own food.” He grinned at you but instead of serving food for himself, he started putting food on your plate. You watched him pointedly. “I can do that myself. Eat!”

“In a bit.” He finished by placing sauce on the lobster then smiled your way before getting food for himself.

“This is phenomenal cooking, man,” Satoru commented delightedly at the first bite, seemingly forgetting about his headache, and Suguru made a sound of approval, eating with gusto. “Will you cook for us every day?”

“Suguru!” you protested.

Sukuna laughed at that. “Maybe not every day.”

You shot him an annoyed look but ate as well. They were right. His cooking was beyond good. “On second thoughts, I don’t mind you cooking for us every day, too. This is totally great!”

“Told you.”

The meal was rather pleasant with your pals engaging Sukuna, obviously taken by him. The deal was sealed where he was concerned. You knew it had nothing to do with the food. They just liked him. He mostly conversed with them while you just pitched in once in a while, too busy eating. Besides, you wanted them to get to know him, too, and you were more than glad that Sukuna was making the effort to be acquainted to them.

After lunch, Suguru and Satoru volunteered to do the dishes, in a very good mood after the magical meal while Ieiri tidied up, leaving you and Sukuna alone. You decided to tour him around the house although there was nothing much to see, leading him into the upstairs hallways. Your house was quite big for only the four of you, but not stately or anything. It was just a normal house with too few inhabitants and too many rooms.

You walked towards the west hall. “Those are all guest rooms and those at the end of the hallway are Satoru and Suguru’s rooms.”

“Where’s yours?” he asked.

You cocked your head towards the east hallway, beckoning him to follow you as you led the way to said room, pointing out the other rooms you passed by, just three of them until you reached the last door. You pushed the door open and gestured for him to enter.

“Huge space,” he commented as he looked appraisingly around, his feet leading him to the large, framed posters of your favorite book-based films and games. “You are a nerd.”

You just watched him, leaning against one of your bookshelves as he ran a finger over your "Harry Potter" movie poster. “Guilty.”

Sukuna then went look at your book collection. “It’s not bad.”

“I’m a literature major. I think it makes sense.”

“Books and more books. How many of these have you actually read?” he asked, taking your volume of "Twelfth Night."

“All of them.”

He eyed you, evidently impressed. “Shakespeare?”

“Yeah. That’s basic in my field.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N.” He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Beautiful, cultured and smart. I like it.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Shut up.”

“It’s true.” He returned the book on its place. “So, apart from literature, what else are you interested in?” He glanced at the glass case at the opposite end of the room where your scale-model figures and rows upon rows of console games were. “Well, apart from action figures and video games.”

“Hmm.” You pretended to be brooding over it. “Well, recently, I’ve just been interested in one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“You.”

He chuckled, pulling you towards him, the warmth of his hands burning through the fabric of your shirt, making you all giddy. “Alright, sweetheart. Your brutal frankness is really scaring me.”

“Door’s wide open. You can run.”

“You won’t chase after me?” he asked.

“You’re gonna wanna see me after anyway, so no.”

“Hey, that’s mean!” But then, he seemed to have thought of something. “Why does Ieiri call me ‘Howard’?”

You retreated from him and slumped down one of the beanbags while he sat on your swivel chair, turning it a hundred and eighty degrees repeatedly. “You caught that, huh?” You couldn’t suppress the laughter that bubbled from your throat at his question. “I didn’t know your name the night we met but Satoru told them about you and I kinda just used the name to refer to you. You know, from the book I was reading at Maki’s.”

“The architect.”

“That one.”

“I see. I don’t mind then since you told me you’re in love with the character.” He winked at you. “But yeah, I was wondering if you enjoyed the meal at all. You haven’t said anything.”

“That speaks volumes of how much I enjoyed it.”

“I’m not really good at this whole impressing anybody thing, but I wanted to make the effort for you and your friends.” Sukuna sighed in relief. “I’ve only ever had one girlfriend after all, and I didn’t really do much in the relationship. And I never really went out with other women after that either save for some casual dates.” He smiled sheepishly at you, but he was confused at your reaction.

You just stared at him quizzically and in disbelief. There was no way you will ever believe that he only dated steadily once and didn’t go out that much to paint the town red. It was inconceivable for the obvious fact that he was so beautiful it was inhuman along with that great personality he has. Women will be lining up for him for sure.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.”

You shook your head, looking dubiously at him. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“Nope.” He shook his head as if to punctuate his statement.

“Everywhere we go, girls look at you and you expect me to believe that crap?” Hell, you wanted to pounce on him more often than not.

His expressions turned smug. “You care enough to notice, I see.”

It was unbelievable but you had to take his word for it. “You don’t sleep around either?”

“No. It just isn’t my thing.”

You just stared at him, your lower lip jutting out, not in disbelief anymore but in wonder. He’s a sensitive soul, you’ve figured that out, but you didn’t know it ran deeper than what you’ve seen so far.

“Don’t look so sad there.”

“I’m not. I really just don’t see it happening.”

“Should I be flattered?” he asked, but before you could answer, he said, “How about you?”

You swallowed hard, suddenly thinking hard about what you’re going to say to him. You didn’t really have a good track record where dating seriously was concerned. It was just not your cup of tea. “I’ve never had an exclusive relationship...” you began, eyeing him cautiously, “…ever.”

“Never?” He seemed to be having difficulty processing that.

You shook your head, your gaze guarded as you tried to gauge his reaction to your revelation. Somehow, you did not expect him to ask about the matter, and when he did, you didn’t really have a clue as to how you would address it. You realized just how different you were from him on that department. He seemed to value the emotions that come with engaging in physical intimacy while you just didn’t care enough for anyone to notice it.

“Now you’re shitting me.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” You frowned. “I think I mentioned this to you in passing the second time we met. I don’t date, at least not steadily.”

Sukuna obviously couldn’t wrap his head around the thought. “So you haven’t had a steady commitment with anyone?”

Again with the negative response. “Uh-uh.”

“Is it a matter of choice or is it a matter incapability, this I-don’t-date thing?”

“Both?” You shrugged, trying to think of a way to explain it to him. “I don’t for the reason that I don’t want to make a steady commitment. I just don’t see myself being invested with such intensity in anyone in a romantic way.”

“And why can’t you?”

“I get sick of people I’m involved with. In that manner, at least.” You chuckled humorlessly. “So…yeah.”

“But you’ve dated, right?”

You nodded. “Openly, yes, but I don’t stay long enough to really get into the whole relationship thing.” Talking about it was excruciating. It wasn’t something you discussed even with your friends. Suguru thought of it as you playing the field, but really, you had issues with the prospect of staying in an established bond with one person for a long period of time. You didn’t really know what to do with the information although you understood the mechanics.

He frowned then, looking deeply troubled. “So, you don’t date?”

“I did not date.” You made sure to emphasize on the past tense, knowing well what he would be assuming. “'Did not' being the operative term.”

“And now?” he asked, standing up when you did, too.

You stepped towards him. “What do you want it to be? It doesn’t just depend on me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he said patiently, coming to meet you halfway and cupping your face as he tilted his head down to look at you squarely in the eyes. “But I do want you for the long run.”

“For now, it’s just that you’re slowly changing my views about it,” you returned. “But I like you, Sukuna. And I care about you. A hell lot. Does that answer your question?”

He nodded.

You reached up, touching his face, running your finger over his jawline. “Can we work with that?”

He pressed his lips onto your forehead, wrapping his arms around you. “Count on it.”

***

"How do I look?" you asked as you walked into the living room in the black, long-sleeved, backless, lace mini cocktail dress that Ieiri chose for you, your pencil heels of the same color clacking on the tiled flooring. You found your three friends lined up on the couch like expectant parents who were sending off their daughter to her first dance, making you laugh.

"Stunning!" Satoru complimented without hesitation, jumping up the couch to make his way to you. "Our daughter's grown up, Suguru."

"Last time I checked, I'm the only one who was raising her," the other male replied.

"You did a good job."

"I did a good job," Ieiri chimed in.

You shook your head, checking the contents of your clutch. It was hopeless trying to get a proper answer from them, but you needed their output since you were new to the whole dressing-up for dinner thing because you never really allowed anyone to wine-and-dine you; never wasted time and resources on anybody you knew you weren’t exactly interested in for the long run. Still, you were more than happy to say yes to Sukuna when he said he'll be taking you to dinner after your exams.

He's been hanging around you almost every day since he cooked lunch at your place, making good on his words to you where the status of your relationship was involved. He would either come see you in the morning before he went to work or meet you at night for a quick drink at Maki's pub. At times, he'd be dropping by at your school during his breaks. And on the previous weekend, he came over, satisfying himself by sitting quietly on the couch with you leaning against his chest while you studied, even going through lengths of helping you out. At some point, you gave up cause he was distracting you, telling you about his plans while playing with your hair.

"You're gonna cook for me," you assumed.

"No. I'm taking you to that fancy restaurant in town."

You agreed without protests even when he refused after you suggested to split the bill knowing how expensive the place could be. You didn’t want him to think you were mooching off him just because he was older and you’re a broke university student. He seemed excited about the whole thing, so you didn't argue further.

Just then, you heard the sound of a car stopping in front of the house, and you made your way to the door despite Ieiri's tirade about you supposedly making the man walk to your door and ringing the bell, probably make him wait, too. Knowing Sukuna, he'll do just that but you didn't want them to pull their antics while that cliché scene by the doorstep unfolded. But she beat you to it, running a lot faster than you to open the door when you were halfway through the short hallway. Just as you were afraid of, Satoru and Suguru were also standing at the other end of the hallway.

"Guys!" you growled.

"We just wanna see you off," Suguru whined just as Ieiri said, "Hi, Howard."

"Hi," Sukuna returned the greeting, even waving at the boys behind you, looking debonair in a smart-casual charcoal grey ensemble over black, collarless button-downs.

Your annoyance died down at the sight of him and you felt yourself melting when your eyes finally met and he beamed brightly as he took in your appearance, looking like he was seeing color for the first time.

"Ready?" he asked and you nodded, stepping around Ieiri. "We're going" you told your friends, shooting them all warning looks before breaking into a nervous smile anyway as Sukuna led you away.

He opened the door to the passenger side of his... "Where's your Jeep?" you asked him, noticing the matte black sports car for the first time.

"At home," he told you. "I thought I'd switch it up for the occasion."

You shook your head as you climbed in, not really expecting him to go to that extent. You appreciated it but you weren't really high maintenance nor did you want the finer things. "So you just happened to have a Porsche 911 lying around?" you asked him when he finally made it to the driver's seat.

He nodded innocently. "I got it on a whim last year, but I decided it's too flashy so I had it stored at an exclusive garage and only took it out whenever I felt like it. I think this is a good time to take it for a spin."

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He reached out to caress your cheek. "You're a vision, by the way."

You felt heat suffuse your cheeks at his gentle touch, but you held his hand in place as you faced him. "I could say the same for you."

"I always wear suits though," he said.

"Well, you're much too impatient with your blazers and you get rid of them when we meet," you began, "And you don't wear those for me."

He flashed you a cheeky grin. "Oh, so you want your men to dress for you?"

"Man, Sukuna. Singular."

It was his turn to blush. "I'm the only one, huh?"

You tilted your head to the side, smirking. "You wanna add someone else into the mix? I didn’t know you were into that."

He was flustered. "No?"

"If you have an exact replica, I wouldn't mind."

Sukuna burst out laughing. "You're crazy."

"It's your fault for hijacking my brain all the time."

Dinner had been great with the both of you pretty much making fun of the numerous silverware before you and making up stories of the haughty guests who came into the same fancy restaurant, some of whom were looking towards your direction.

"That one's a trophy wife," you told him, furtively glancing at the couple that entered. "She's all iced up but look at how her husband is interacting with the waitress."

"You can tell just by that?" he asked.

"I'm guessing they're regulars here and the waitress is one of those he is having an extramarital affair with just judging by the way she looked at him and how she's being all cozy with him." You chuckled. "Ah, now Mrs. X is unhappy. Pretty and bejeweled but very unhappy."

"What about that man there?" He mimicked the way you looked at the couple earlier, this time referring to that one by the glass walls at the corner.

"Oh that one? He's that demanding type who only wants to sit on his usual spot. He's hypochondriac. He's been wiping all the silverware."

Sukuna was obviously amused. "You observe people like this all the time?"

"I aspire to be a novelist if not a literature professor. I watch people to come up with stories, so it doesn't always mean what I'm saying about them is true. I just make it up as I go." You laughed. "But Suguru is a better writer than I am."

"Is he now?"

You nodded, eyes scanning the area. "That old lady is a rich widow who is keeping tradition alive."

He followed your line of vision. "Because she's wearing traditional garb?"

You shook your head. "Because she is alone with that sorrowful look on her face, and she has an extra serving of a meal across her which had been untouched since she ordered in. She's on a date with her dead husband. The empty seat is for him. It's their anniversary." You cocked your head towards the empty chair. "She placed that blazer on the backrest which is obviously not hers, and she just opened a wrapped-up present and made a show of presenting it to whoever should be seated there. Looked like men’s watch to me."

That same old woman stood by your table later in the evening to say, "You are a lovely couple. Cherish each other." And she also paid for a bottle of expensive wine which Sukuna asked to be wrapped for the two of you to take home.

"Looks like you're right about that one," he said as he drove you back to his place.

You nodded, smiling to yourself. "She was right, too," you murmured.

He blinked then looked at you. "Did you say something?"

"Nope."

If you were impressed with the Porsche, his place was even more amazing. The whole place was in scales of black, white and gray but nothing was monotonous about the space. He toured you around the house and it looked uninhabited if it weren't for the signs of life around. But what caught your eye was the shelf full of music, all in vinyl with his gramophone plugged in to a modern sound system. He liked old stuff, his collection ranging from 1903s music to more modern ones here and there.

His living room was strategically placed by the glass walls, providing a view of the cityscape where you found yourself standing, in awe of the sights before you. Just then, the familiar bars of Ben E. King's "Stand by Me" started playing in the background.

You were about to whirl around, but you felt him behind you, wrapping his arm around you as he made you face him. He extended a hand towards you then. You took it without hesitation although you didn't know what he was up to, surprised when he placed your arms on his shoulder while he held onto your waist.

"Dance with me," he said in a low tone as he pulled you closer.

You giggled at that, letting him slowly sway you to the beat while you just looked up at him, drowning in his eyes, his warmth and everything that was him. "I love this song."

He arched a brow at you. "You know Ben E. King?"

"I grew up listening to old music," you told him, nodding as you smiled fondly. "The perks of being a grandpa's girl. You get exposed to great music."

"The movie is my favorite, too."

Your eyes widened. "Really?"

He threw his head back in mock annoyance. "Let me guess. It's your favorite, too?"

"Yes!" you squealed excitedly.

Sukuna clucked his tongue. "You make it hard for me to resist you when you have great music and movie tastes, too."

You looked away, swearing you were beet red now. You playfully smacked him on the chest. "Don't say things like that with a straight face."

His laughter reverberated on his chest when you leaned your forehead against it, hiding your face from him. "Now, you're getting all shy around me?" he teased.

"Shut up," you mumbled, pouting at him but having a hard time as you fought the smile that played at the corners of your mouth.

"Seriously though, Y/N, you don't run out of surprises for me." He leaned his forehead against yours. "Every time, you put something new on the list of things I like about you."

"You have a list?"

He nodded. "It's getting hard to keep up with how long it has become."

"Where does it begin?" you asked out of curiosity.

He raised a hand, his finger tracing the point between your eyebrows. "Your brows furrow just around here when you're concentrating. Just like that time I met you at Maki's."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "It's impressive how you're caught in a world of your own even in such a busy, crowded place."

"I’m just good at ignoring people. But stopped reading the moment you sat beside me." You snickered. "You make it hard to focus, it's an insult to the author when her characters are all beyond just interesting."

"How was I even distracting you? You weren’t even looking at me."

"That's what you thought." You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "It's your hair at first, but then you also smelled too good to be true. That did it for me. And before I knew it, every word on the page I was reading became Cyrillic or something."

You didn't even realize that you've both come to a standstill, chuckling as you met his gaze again, only to feel his hand sliding behind your head, his fingers tangling with your hair as he dipped down and seized your lips, tilting his head slightly. It was a gentle kiss, his skilled lips light on yours, introducing his rhythm and flavor of mint mixed with the faint flavor of the wine you've both been drinking as you moved in sync with him.

It drove you crazy how his scent and taste filled every crevice of your being, desensitizing you while also pushing your senses on overdrive at the same time. The feel of his large hands as they secured you to him while his mouth did all the magic made your blood grow hot, the rush you felt inside consuming you. You visibly wobbled when he let go of you, making him look at you in amusement.

"Stay the night?" he asked, breaking into a grin. "I have a copy of our favorite movie. We can finish the wine that kind old lady gave us, and I'll make you pizza."

"You had me at our favorite movie," you said, still a bit dazed and drunk from the taste of him. "I'll stay."

**

Sukuna stood at the foot of his bed as he neatly placed everything you might need on it, running out of his unit to get stuff for you at the nearby convenience store. He glanced over at the door of the adjoining shower, smiling when he heard you humming. Well, he couldn't stop smiling all night seeing how beautiful you were in that black dress. He marveled at how you managed to be even more gorgeous when you were already driving him insane even when you wore sweats to school.

He found beauty in every little thing you did, feeling himself being overwhelmed with amazement even when you were just sitting there reading to how you spoke eloquently about things you were passionate about, the way you told the stories you made up despite how they leaned towards sad things. He found it attractive how you lacked complications and always gave him your honest opinions, how you tell him what was going on inside your mind without bars held.

He loved how kind and loving you are to your friends. It wasn't outward affection but he did notice the small things you did. How one word – "breathe" – would calm Satoru down, how one reassuring squeeze of the hand would pacify Ieiri and how a single look would convey your thoughts to Suguru. He would be jealous of it given any other circumstances, but you did so much more for him by just smiling and cheering him up when you sensed how tired he was from work which was often.

You were sensitive like that, appeared stronger and more resilient than you looked, but he and your friends couldn't help it but dote on you. It was kinda funny how they all referred to you as their daughter at first but when he found out they were doing that because they're the only family you had, he understood why. He understood why you tended to look at things the way you did. It only strengthened his urge to take care of you and protect you at all costs.

“Don’t give me that look,” you’ve told him then when he found out your grandfather, your only guardian and family, passed away three years ago, and you’ve only been living on the small fortune he bequeathed to you upon his death. Your parents were long dead, too, and you were basically alone in life.

He found it amazing that you could talk about the matter without being uncomfortable when he couldn’t even imagine how his life would be if he lost his mother at his age. He understood your independent nature, how you would give him funny looks whenever he volunteered to do something for you and why you were always so insistent on splitting the bill when you went out.

Still, when you said you didn't date steadily, it got him worried. Apart from the possibility that you might not stay with him for as long as he imagined – which made him afraid to breathe at times – he thought you might have issues from being alone too much; that maybe, the reason why you didn’t want to commit was because you didn’t want to open up only to be left alone again when things don’t work out. The way you spoke about the old woman at the restaurant and the way sadness crossed your features as you told him the story you’ve just made up sort of solidified his notions.

That’s exactly the reason why he was happy you weren’t pushing him away or refusing to stay with him. When you said you’ll stay the night, although he found joy in all the times you’ve been around him, he still felt unbelievably happy. Perhaps you were giving him a chance, giving whatever it is that’s between you the opportunity to blossom and just going with wherever and whatever it brings you. He liked that thought.

You came out of his room just as he was taking out the pizza he made, dressed in that oversized, white shirt he brought out for you, the collar askew on your shoulders. You walked into the kitchen running a towel on your hair, leaning on the counter. He almost dropped the pizza when he saw that you’ve forgone the sweats he’d given you, your legs bare from halfway down your thighs.

“I gave you pants, you know.”

You laughed at his words. “They’re too big for me. I returned them in your closet.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Go wait in the living room. I’ll be finished here in a bit.”

You did as you were told, much to his relief but still went to the extent of getting you a blanket in case you wanted to cover up, not that he minded looking at your legs. Nevertheless, he preferred not to with all the thoughts running amok in his head. He wanted to take things slow with you even if you were proving to be his kryptonite. You thanked him for it, happily munching on the pizza he made as the movie started.

“I can’t believe that woman gave us this expensive wine,” you said as you took a sip from your glass.

“I can’t believe we’re having pizza with it,” he said as he sat at the other end of the couch. The two of you laughed at that, but then he stopped when you did, noticing how you were looking at him with a confused look on your face. “What is it?”

“Why are sitting so far away from me?” you demanded, but instead of him moving towards you, you crawled on the sofa closer to him.

Sukuna reveled in how naturally you took his arm and placed it on your shoulder, leaning against him before adjusting your position and covering the two of you with the blanket. He was glad your guard was down where he was concerned, the fact that you smelled like his shampoo and were wearing his clothes making him all warm and fuzzy inside. He pulled you closer to him, eyes trained on his massive flat screen.

“Sukuna…” you said a few moments later.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You’re too stiff.” You looked up at him, snickering. “I won’t steal your virtue if that’s what you’re scared of.”

He just laughed but it was taking everything he had in him not to do anything when you were tempting him in the most sinful ways, but he forgot all about that when your head lolled against his chest and found you sound asleep. You looked so serene that instead of taking you to bed, he sat there, cradling your form until the movie finished, his fingers playing with your hair.

Sukuna looked down at you, feeling like his chest was about to explode as he breathed in, realizing the depth of how much he felt for you, and although you couldn’t hear it, he said, “I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

***

The crisp morning air blew past the open balcony doors, into the bedroom, rustling the white sheets on his bed that momentarily served as the sanctuary of a tangle of limbs and blankets, cradled by the softness of the mattress and feather-filled pillows. Even breaths rose and fell in sync, filling the wide room. Languid fingers twined with the silkiness of long locks of hair and smooth, bare skin. The bed creaks and Sukuna’s eyes open to the brightness of daylight.

He took in his surroundings, and the first thing he noticed was the pressure on his leg, his left arm just by his shoulder and his chest along with the warmth that was coming from his side. His eyes wandered down to his body to the sheets barely reaching his waist, until finally he found the source of it all.

On his left side was none other than you, pressed to his side with no quantifiable distance separating your bodies but the measly fabric of the shirt you wore. Your hair fell on the pillows and his shoulder which was cushioning your head, your leg crooked across his thighs while your hand lay on his chest in a stagnant caress that suddenly made his whole body burn from the inside. Peering down, he noticed how your brows knit together in an unconscious frown while your thick lashes cast shadows below your closed eyes. Your long, lean legs were exposed to him up to your milky thighs as his shirt which you were wearing rode up, and he could only pray that you won’t move that limb any further or else…

Cursing at himself, he diverted his gaze and realized how his left hand had been running up and down your back. The feel of your warmth against the pads of his fingers sent him to the edge while your scent intoxicated him until he felt sweat beading on his forehead. He knew he was being shallow, but he couldn’t help it either. He was still human. Still, a smile made its way across his mouth. He was only able to think of the moment and how he wished to wake up to it every single morning of his existence. He decided to stay still and hold onto it while it lasted.

“Why are you so pretty?” he whispered, then pulled you closer while he closed his eyes, meaning to go back to sleep, but it wasn’t long before he felt you stir against him, your leg moving upwards. In the process, said limb swept higher, touching that particular spot between his legs. The weight of your leg didn’t help with the carnal thoughts that were already running amok in his mind.

You suddenly moved, groaning as you shifted, the drawn-out sound doing things to him.

Sukuna’s eyes remained shut, fearing what might come next after you discover the compromising position you were in, but it didn’t come. Instead, you just very slightly distanced yourself from him, remaining within reach, but he was startled when he suddenly felt cold fingers brush across the skin just below his lower lip.

“If I were an artists, I would have painted you,” you said quietly while your fingers travelled lower. “Just look at that jaw line.”

Sukuna felt himself shiver when your other hand began working its way from his collarbones, going all the way down to where his chiseled stomach was. The titillating sensation filled his brain and before he knew it, his eyes were half open while his hand had already grabbed you by the wrist. His other arm worked to topple you over, back to the comfort of the pillows, while he rolled on top of you, staying still while completely rendering you motionless by pinning your arm down.

The reverberation of your chest against his whilst you chuckled albeit his weight sent him to the edge, almost falling off, but he held still and stopped himself from doing anything.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whispered, tapping his back slightly.

He wondered whether you liked being there with him, too, or what. “L/N Y/N…What’s with the formality?” What, indeed? The two of you were in a very intimate position and yet he addressed you that way, sounding agonized even to himself. “Don’t do that.”

You scoffed good-naturedly. “Am I giving you strange feelings?” you questioned, ridiculing him early in the morning. “I knew you were pretending to be asleep. Men just can’t say no to a woman’s touch, huh?”

He supported his weight with his arm and drew himself up, the rest of his weight pushing down lower against you. He smirked then. “So you were also awake.”

“Yeah.”

“And you let me hold you anyway?” he murmured, his face almost closing in on yours.

You ignored the tone in which he spoke and its implications. “I was just too lazy to move. Besides, I thought you were a pillow. You’re so warm.”

“That sounds fishy, Y/N.”

“And what’s fishy about that?”

He broke into that crooked grin, feeling his evil streak resurfacing. “Hmm. The fact that you’re liking this as much as I am.”

You removed your hand from his grip and lightly slid it down his inked rib, going lower as you traced the patterns of his tattoo, your eyes remaining on him, a sultry smile swathed across your lips.

A moan nearly escaped his parted mouth, but he wasn’t able to hold back the sudden closing of his eyes and slight parting of his mouth as your hand reached halfway down. “S-stop…”

Your hand stopped where his pelvis was, but your fingers continued to draw circles on his skin. “Are you sure you want me to stop?”

Sukuna panted and nodded at you feeling his hot blood rushing southward.

“Yeah?” You laughed softly, your eyes widening a bit in amusement while your leg kicked faintly underneath him, feeling something stiffen against your thigh. “Something else tells me you don’t,” you purred into his ear.

Sukuna bit his lower lip, peeking at you through half-lidded eyes. He knew you felt that and he was getting embarrassed with every second he stayed there. He knew your effect on him and you were more than just aware of it. You were even going to the extent of toying with him, making him feel like a goddamn teenager with raging hormones.

“You’re baiting me,” he played along, brushing your hair off of your neck and twirling the strands with his finger.

You smirked. “Am I?” you said slowly, hand sliding on the garter of his sweats. You withdrew your hand and rolled the two of you over despite his weight, turning tables on him. You touched the tip of his nose, taking in the disappointed look on his face all to your amusement before getting off.

“You’re funny, Sukuna.”

Your leg wasn’t even halfway off of him from where you were sitting astride his torso when Sukuna decided he was going to take his chances with making you succumb to him somehow and he finalized that by stopping you. Grabbing your waist, he rolled you over once more and without second thoughts, dipped his mouth against your, just pecking you on the mouth at first to see what you would do.

Too stunned to react, you were only able to stare at him, but Sukuna didn’t just stop there. He pressed his mouth against your sensuous lips in numerous fleeting touches until he felt you respond to it in the same gentle manner. Those small gestures, along with the closing of your eyes, ignited the fire that had been coursing through him until he thought he would explode if he didn’t comfort himself with the feel of you against him.

Unable to hold back anymore, he crashed your lips together in an urgent, scorching and passionate kiss, nibbling on your lower lip. You responded in kind, possessively holding onto his taut shoulders as he lifted you both in a sitting position so you were kneeling astride his lap. Sukuna pushed his fingers into your hair, holding you against him while his mouth moved downwards to your neck, seductively biting on your collarbone, marking his trail of fire up the columns of your throat before returning to your mouth.

Opposite to his aim to escalate the heat and passion, you placed both of your hands on either side of his head, cupping his cheeks with gentle hands and pulled away slightly, still with your foreheads against each other, hands intact on his shoulders and your waist, both panting for air.

You flashed him an apologetic smile, swallowing hard as you pulled back and sat down on the bed, looking down at your hands which you were wringing. Silence fell over the room and when you came to your senses again, you met his gaze.

His eyes rounded at the realization of what he just did. “I’m sorry, I don’t what came over me.”

“It’s fine. Don’t apologize.” You shook your head. “Sukuna, I…I shouldn’t have…”

He smiled at you then and pulled you close, giving you a soft peck on the forehead, eventually taking you into his arms, soothing your back as he embraced you. “That’s not it, sweetheart. I can’t keep my hands to myself even when you’re not doing anything.”

“I’m sorry…”

He looked at you at arm’s length. “Don’t be.” You diverted your gaze, but Sukuna lifted your head with a finger, making you look at him, holding you in his gaze “I’m willing to take it slow if that’s what makes you comfortable.”

“Look, I just want to be sure about how I feel. I don’t want to be doing this half-baked because I don’t want to hurt you –”

He placed a finger against your lips, still raw from his kisses. He didn’t want to hear what you had to say just yet but he smiled slowly at you. “I’m willing to give you time, and for now, I just want us to stay like this. Is that okay?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

You found yourselves lying in bed until the sun was high in the sky and it was just too warm to stay there. Endless talks led to teasing which eventually led to laughter. He was glad that you were back to your carefree self again, even happier that you were considering his feelings.

“Should we get something to eat?” you suggested to him.

“Are you hungry?” Sukuna asked.

“Yeah. Aren’t you?”

Sukuna chuckled. “Starving.” He stood up first and pulled you with him, leading you out of the room with a happy grin on his face. “Let’s make breakfast together?”

“Sure…” You beamed at him. “I’d like that.”

-end of part 2-

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20210623]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[somehow-progressing]

WTNV 182 / 132 Connection

So this isn't the first time Cecil's mother and trees have been connected.

In 132, exactly fifty episodes previously, her bedtime story was about a boy who turned into a tree.

I reviewed this episode to look for connections and..

Oh, boy.

So, first off, the boy's interest in science obviously reminded me of Carlos, right? But then the similarities stop there.

And start leading towards Cecil.

(The rest under the cut)

We now know that there was a time where Cecil's father was in the picture, although it may have been when Cecil was very, very young. The family dynamic in 132's story matches his exactly: a mother, a father, a sister, the youngest son.

My first thought was, "Well, this can't be a parallel to Cecil's family. They're far too loving, which doesn't match up with what we know of Cecil's mother at all." But then I looked closer.

The boy's parents are verbally insistent that they love him, to the point where it comes off as "I'm your parent so I have to love you, it's my job to do everything for you." Putting pressure, and a sense of guilt, on the child while never actually living up to their word.

"He knew he would never need his father to give his life for him. He just wanted his father to show concern for his health. He knew he would never need his mother to give away all of her belongings for him. He just wanted his mother to show interest in his curiosity." - 132, Bedtime Story

His parent's love is very idealistic, while not being one that they actually show or.. Possibly, feel. They don't show concern for his health, or value his interests. He's their son, but he's not anything more.

"My mom seems really proud of me too! She hid from me for three days! Like, the longest ever! And she’s covered all the mirrors in my house. I’m not sure why, but I think it must be because of pride. Being proud does all sorts of things… to a… um… to a person." - 33, Cassettes

Cecil's own experiences parallel this. He interprets her love through ideals, to fill the void of it in actuality. When you're a child, you think that a parent is supposed to be loving. They're supposed to care. When they don't, or they leave you alone in your house, or they ignore you, or they tell you not to cry after you've been injured because "you don't even exist," your brain doesn't know how to process it. Like he did with his memory loss in 182, Cecil tries to rationalize it. Mother abandoned me because she's proud, because she cares about me- because she's my mother and she has to.

The boy's relationship with his sister parallels Cecil's as well.

"His sister would tell him, “I hate you, brother.” But their parents would instruct her to be nice and so she would say sarcastically, “I love you, brother. I would climb the tallest mountain for you." - 132, Bedtime Story

"He knew his sister really loved him. He knew he would never need his sister to climb a mountain for him. He just wanted his sister to believe him that mountains were real." - 132, Bedtime Story

As mentioned in Ghost Stories, Cecil has had a very difficult relationship with his sister.

"See, my mother disappeared when I was only 14. Abby had just started school, but she had to drop out to return home and raise me, and I thought that Mom would be back at any moment, like maybe she was away on business. Our out for a walk. Or just hiding.

But Mom did not come back, not for my entire childhood. And I was petulant and subversive, and Abby was reserved and controlling and she blamed me for having dropped out of school and I blamed her for just… not being Mom.

But in our adulthood, my mother did return home, sick and sorry to two children who barely spoke to each other in the morning." - Ghost Stories

Which would match up with the sister's animosity with him.

The difference here is that, out of the entire family, the boy knows that his sister actually loves him. And in Cecil's life, his sister is the only one he has made amends with. No matter how she treated him in the past, they are part of the same family once again. (As of 182, at least.)

Here, a direct parallel to Cecil is established. This boy's life mirrors his own.

Now, here's where it gets interesting.

Just as Cecil enters the tree, the boy is transformed into one

"He spent a lot of time in those next several months watching his family, their grief at his loss. His parents’ happiness at his sister’s education." - 132, Bedtime Story

There has been a lot of theorizing that Cecil's mother may have been covering the mirrors and leaving flowers because she was mourning Cecil, and not just his father.

"What was it your mother said before she left home when you were a teenager? Did she tell you she was an oracle?" - 171, Go to The Mirror?

It's entirely possible that Cecil's mother knew what would happen after she left, or had enough of an idea to subconsciously work it into a bedtime story.

It's possible that this is a glimpse of a timeline where Cecil really didn't survive entering the tree. His parents mourn, and his sister is allowed to pursue the education she wanted.  (Which, in all honesty, a pretty cruel burden to place on Cecil's shoulders. It's not his fault that their mother disappeared, leaving Abby to take care of him.)

Next, we watch the boy slowly lose his humanity as his awareness widens outside of himself.

"Time slowed for him, and his knowledge grew so vast and so expansive, human triumphs and pains became only a small sliver of his interest. There were much larger systems to comprehend than humanity." - 132, Bedtime Story

Cecil is canonically one of the people in Night Vale that time slowed down for. Like Earl, he has been stuck at a certain age for a long, long time.

"He had forgotten what he used to be." - 132, Bedtime Story

Cecil has canonically lost large parts of his past. He no longer remembers them.

"Later that spring, the woman and the man and the child brought a picnic and some games, and the tree was happy, but could not comprehend why. Nor did the tree intend to. The tree was simply happy, and this was a feeling that existed. Years later, the family wore black again and cried. And the tree felt sad, but it did not connect this feeling to any kind of narrative. It was simply sad, and this was a feeling that existed." - 132, Bedtime Story

The boy tree is becoming incredibly distanced from his family. (A woman, man, and child, just like Abby, Steve, and Janice.)

"You know, Cecil and I first met at one of these things. Seems like we should have met earlier than that. I had dated his sister for a while. But Cecil’s busy, he- he serves his community. He really gives himself to his community. Who do you live for, you know? Who do you give yourself to? Those are questions we should all be asking ourselves." - Steve in 100, Toast

Steve confirmed that Cecil was distant from his family and the people around him before Carlos came along, burying himself in his job.

And then an angel cuts down the tree.

"Over a few days, the tree and the fruits and the separated stump died. But the tree retained everything. As its body was planted into boards, as its twigs were ground into mulch, the tree felt the knowledge of each seed it had planted across the valley, each creature it had nourished with its fruits, and each piece of lumber built into a home for generations of humans to come.

The tree felt its branches burned in a fireplace, and it rose up as smoke and dissipated into carbon across the sky, coming down in trillions of molecules to build more soil, more trees, more creatures. The boy could truly learn everything now, cell by cell." - 132, Bedtime Story

Cecil has given himself to his community. This boy, this tree, has been divided and used up as a resource, to serve the community in which he lived. Not to mention the fact that Cassettes Cecil died before becoming the Voice, like this boy/tree was cut down before he could serve/understand his community.

"Cecil, sweet Cecil. Whose life lies directly on the fault lines of this broken reality." - Huntokar in 109, Huntokar

Patching together:

- this quote from Huntokar that gives off the impression of Cecil as the glue keeping the fractures together, and

- the way that Leonard Burton, a deceased Voice, is brought back the moment that Cecil left town, filling the vacant spot, and

- the way that Night Vale fell apart when its citizens rejected their reality, and began to be patched back together along with the narration of their Voice

It all leads to:

The Voice of Night Vale is a significant, needed position.

 It’s possible that he holds the fractured town together, in a way, his words reminding the citizens to keep their will and hold onto what is in front of them. (In the case that the cold light is the Smiling God, this gives it a motive. If it takes out Cecil, the town is left vulnerable for it to devour.)

Just like the tree, Cecil is used by his town.

His mother knew that he would become the Voice one day- it was prophesized. That’s the reason he was given the tape recorder, that’s the reason she told this story.

We still don’t know what was in the book in the table.

Then, this very interesting quote from 182:

“I’ve been in this job for a long time. Probably longer than I’ve been alive. I mean: you’ve been alive.”

He says the truth for a moment, then backs up because that doesn’t make sense to him. Coupled the way his mother’s story parallels Cecil’s, with boy becoming the tree, becoming a resource that serves the town and seeing all of it (similar to how Cecil knows what’s happening in the town and what its citizens are thinking without leaving his studio. See: every traffic report and episodes likes A Story About Them.) and Cecil mentioning the odd nature of his job in 182..

I think we’re about to learn exactly what it means to be the Voice.

[caswellprmanager]

out of the closet (and into my arms)

read it on ao3

Ship: Ricky Bowen/EJ Caswell

TW: transphobia, deadnaming, gender dysphoria, panic attacks

Summary: Ricky has certain items of clothing that EJ loves to steal.

Notes: I exclusively blame @random-nerd-3 for planting this idea in my head in the discord server so now it has manifested itself. *british accent* I can't believe you've done this 😩

EJ was not above pretending to be sick just to not go to school. He didn't go to theater camp for nothing. One time when there was this really mean kid who sneezed on him in third grade, he faked having pneumonia so well that their mom made them apologize for infecting him. One could say he's basically a natural born actor.

But today... he's not even pretending when he says he feels sick.

He woke up that morning, running through all the things he had to do for the day, and then promptly chucked it out of his mind when he looked at himself in the mirror. He's been on T for a while now but his parents refuse to pay for top surgery. He'd do it himself with the money he has in his bank, but whatever he purchases alerts his parents. So looking at his tank top clad torso with no binder on and the tell-tale bumps of his breasts lightly tenting the material up front made him want to punch his mirror.

His breasts weren't big but god were they noticeable. At least for him. He shakily runs a hand down his chest and wishes more than anything for the offending things to disappear. He mentally computes how long it will be until he moves out of the house to go to college — just so that he can finally get the surgery he's always wanted.

Yet, even after computing, it still seems so far away.

"Eliza? Are you up? Breakfast is ready?"

There was a dull ringing in his ears when he woke up a few minutes ago but it was deafening now at the sound of that name.

You know that's not my name.

EJ feels his chest tighten and his breath come out in shorter bursts. He grabs the edge of his bathroom sink shakily, knuckles turning white the louder the ringing in his ears gets and the faster his heart beats.

Drowning.

He's drowning.

He's drowning in thoughts he doesn't want to have but invade the forefront of his mind.

He's drowning.

"Eliza? Eliza, answer me!"

Stop calling me that! EJ pulls at his hair, vision blurring at the seams. Stop fucking calling me that—

"EJ!"

A hand on his shoulder practically yanks him up to the metaphorical surface. He's breathing, but only barely, and he subconsciously falls into someone's arms, gasping through sobs.

"Hey there, handsome. You're okay. I got you."

The voice was soothing, familiar like the feel of his favorite childhood blanket wrapping around his shoulders. He buries his face into the fabric before him, inhaling the scent of sandalwood, cherries, and throb cologne.

Throb cologne.

"R-Ricky?" He whispers, not really believing it himself. The one holding him answers by tightening their hold around him and EJ feels himself collapse even further in their arms. He breathes in Ricky's scent like it's the only thing keeping him grounded right now – and it might as well be.

"I'm here, Elijah. I'm right here." Elijah. EJ visibly relaxes at the sound of that name – the name he gave himself.

"How did you–" He tries to say but the tightness in his throat only allows his voice to come out in a whisper. Ricky runs their hand through his hair.

"I thought I would go to your house before school for a change. Your mom let me in." Ricky doesn't force EJ to look at them and he's grateful for that. His vision was still impossibly blurry and he feels a strong headache approaching after what just happened. "But I have a strong feeling you don't want to go to school today."

EJ buries his face even deeper into Ricky's chest and Ricky kisses the top of his head right after. He's taller than Ricky – not by much, but he'll hold that over Ricky 'till the day he dies – but right now he feels like a little kid wrapped in Ricky's arms. Small. Secure.

Safe.

"C'mon, handsome." Ricky says into his hair, placing another kiss on the top of his head. "Let's get you back to bed."

EJ doesn't even remember being tucked back into bed, nor the third kiss Ricky gave him on his cheek, or even the sound of Ricky conversing lowly with his mom at the door. All EJ really remembers is feeling absolutely exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that the second his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

After a few hours, EJ woke up again, still with a lightly throbbing headache and his room plunged in darkness except for the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling.

EJ focused on the constellations he painstakingly stuck there in the first grade. He remembered breaking his arm trying to get off the ladder and crying all the way to the hospital. The memory seemed to give his mind a distraction but he wasn't distracted enough to not notice the extra layer on his body.

EJ fell asleep with a tank top on, just like he always does. He runs warmer than most people so he doesn't usually sleep with a hoodie or sweater on until the winter months. Even then, he just turns up the thermostat in his room.

So... where the hell did this hoodie come from?

"Knock, knock!" Came a voice from the other side of his door and his heart stared beating a little faster, hoping that it wasn't either of his parents about to scold him for skipping school. But when the door opened — revealing a smiling Ricky — he could practically feel the tension lift from his shoulders.

"Oh good, you're awake! Your parents left for work a few hours ago so you don't have to worry, by the way." How Ricky was able to figure out what exactly was on his mind was beyond him. But it did put him ever more at ease. Although, he was still confused as to why Ricky was still here.

"Ricky did you... Did you skip school?" He asked, sitting up against the headboard just as Ricky sat next to him to feel his forehead. Ricky smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck.

"I couldn't leave you alone." Before EJ could protest, Ricky continued. "Don't worry! I texted Big Red to update me on rehearsals. I also texted your co-captains for the Water Polo and Lacrosse teams that you weren't feeling well, so you have to skip on training. I figured they'd spread the word to the rest of your clubs. You're in, like, a million of them."

"It keeps me busy," EJ mumbles but allows Ricky to climb into bed with him. He immediately relaxes into Ricky's chest when he opens his arms invitingly, knowing that he can't resist an invitation to snuggle. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's one of those days, isn't it?" Ricky asks and EJ nods. Ricky hums in acknowledgement. It's one of the things EJ appreciates about their relationship — one that took a lot of trial and error. They're different in a lot of ways but when it comes to their struggles with gender, they've found someone to relate to. EJ doesn't think he's ever dated anyone who just... gets it like Ricky does.

"It sucks," he mumbles into Ricky's chest with a little pout. "Plus I don't have any clean binders today so that makes it suck even more."

"Well, I'll be right here if you need me. Just say whatever and I'll help you in any way I can." EJ could feel tears well up in his eyes and buries his face into Ricky's neck, overwhelmed and filled with so much unbridled joy for Ricky's mere presence in his life right now.

Which brings him all the way back to the mere presence of the hoodie he's wearing right now that is definitely not his. But he can make an assumption from the smell alone.

Sandalwood. Cherries. Throb cologne.

"Darling?" EJ says into Ricky's neck slowly.

"Hm?"

"Am I wearing your hoodie?"

"...And If I say yes?" Ricky teases, using their nails to scratch at the nape of EJ's neck casually. EJ fights the fluttering of his eyelids to focus on the task at hand. He pulls away from Ricky a bit to look at them inquisitively, which thankfully results in Ricky sighing in defeat. That basically answers EJ's question, and just as he's about to remove the hoodie, Ricky gently places a hand on his chest.

"Keep it. It looks good on you."

EJ looks down at the brown and white color block hoodie. When Ricky wears this, it engulfs their entire frame and makes EJ want to smother them in kisses. EJ has never admitted it but... this was on his top list of favorite hoodies that Ricky owns.

But he also knows this is also one of Ricky's favorites.

And yet... the more he looks at himself in Ricky's hoodie, the dysphoria he felt in spades just hours go subsides, even just a little. It makes his chest look properly flat and it was awfully comfy. He feels Ricky's eyes on him as he brings the fabric of the hoodie to his nose, breathing in Ricky's scent one more time.

Sandalwood. Cherries. Throb cologne.

He smiles for the first time today and Ricky smiles back.

He could get used to this.

--

Ever since that day, EJ has started to slowly come into the possession of... several of Ricky's clothes.

Now, stealing might be too heavy of a word to use here. Though he's not unfamiliar with the concept — he just prefers to use the phrase... indefinitely borrowing.

But if one were to ask anybody else, EJ was most definitely stealing Ricky's clothes.

It started off with the color block hoodie Ricky gave him that day. That damned hoodie even changed his nightly sleeping routine – with wearing that very same hoodie as the last step before he's able to truly fall asleep. It's absolutely insane how one piece of garment can make him feel. How having something of Ricky's makes him want to have more of them.

And so EJ just never stopped.

--

One day before rehearsals, on a particularly cold afternoon (and EJ knew it would be cold. He checks the weather forecast on his phone everyday), he deliberately forgot his letterman jacket in his locker. After arriving to the bomb shelter, and coincidentally hearing from Miss Jenn that the janitor hasn't fixed the heater yet, EJ casually mentions to Ricky that he forgot his jacket in his locker. And that it's way too far to retrieve now.

"You poor baby," Ricky says with a knowing glint in his eye. It's a subtle game they play, the two of them, and EJ likes to think he wins it every time. "Here, take my sweatshirt. I sprayed extra throb on it for you."

"Okay agenda for tomorrow," EJ teases while pulling on the sweatshirt that indeed wreaks of throb. "We're going shopping for a new cologne."

"I thought you liked throb?" Ricky replies with a cheeky smile. EJ sticks his tongue out at him – a very mature response, thank you very much.

"It does remind me of you." EJ says this as he brings the collar of the sweatshirt up to his nose. He tries to hide the way his lips curl up automatically at Ricky's familiar scent. He wouldn't hear the end of it if they were able to catch that. "But it doesn't mean I like it."

"But you like me, right?" Ricky says this with a hint of a tease and a larger hint of vapid curiosity. It's almost as if Ricky is just waiting for the confirmation that EJ most definitely still likes them, which isn't much of a surprise. Ricky doesn't exactly have the best of luck in the romance department. It actually took quite a bit of time before the two of them even got together. But, now that they are together, EJ makes it a point to remind Ricky that he will continue to choose them everyday.

And EJ doesn't mind reminding Ricky how much he loves them — it's practically a part of his daily routine.

"I love you, angel." EJ says, lacing each syllable with as much affection that he can muster. Ricky bites their lip and tries to hide their blushing face with their hands. EJ chuckles, leaning over to place a kiss to Ricky's temple before wrapping an arm around them.

"EJ... I..." Ricky starts to say but the words don't ever take shape. EJ knows this though. He doesn't mind the wait.

"I know, baby." EJ kisses Ricky's forehead this time. "I know."

--

bowen (affectionate): did i leave my blue-grey hoodie at your house? i cant find it anywhere...

caswell (derogatory): [sent 1 attachment] oh you mean this one?

caswell (derogatory): :-)

bowen (affectionate): ah

bowen (affectionate): there it is

caswell (derogatory): do you want it back? i can bring it to school tomorrow

bowen (affectionate): nah

bowen (affectionate): actually no yeah bring it to school tomorrow

bowen (affectionate): but you have to be wearing it 🤷‍♀️

caswell (derogatory): u dont have to tell me twice 😘😘

--

[1 new notification: @ejwaterpolotheaterguy posted a new photo]

ejwaterpolotheaterguy: boyfriend sweater 😍 @sk8erbowen thanks for the drip 😚

--

There are days where EJ feels dysphoric and Ricky isn't there.

It just so happened to be the very same weekend that Ricky decided to go visit his mom up in Chicago when EJ woke up once again wanting to claw at the offending mounds of flesh on his chest. He nearly punched his mirror before Ricky called him to ask how he was doing.

"I'm so sorry, EJ. I wish I was there."

"I'll get by. Just gotta cover the mirrors all around the house and exclusively live in one of your hoodies for the next 24 hours." EJ rummages through his drawers, trying to find the exact hoodie he's been thinking of since Ricky called. It was the one that was big even on EJ and felt like getting a hug from Ricky. The second his fingers felt the familiar purple fabric, he quickly put it on, almost completely forgetting that he was on facetime with Ricky.

"Well look at you, my handsome boy." EJ blushes when he realizes that Ricky could see him but the smile that makes it to his lips is the most genuine one he's had all day. "How're you feeling?"

"Safe." was the first word that came to mind and EJ couldn't have stopped it from leaving his lips even if he tried. Ricky's answering smile made the slip-up worth it, though.

And there really isn't any other word that describes how wearing Ricky's hoodies and sweatshirts makes him feel. It's like getting a cup of hot chocolate by an open fire on Christmas morning. Like coming home to a warm embrace after a terrible day. With Ricky he was safe. With Ricky, in Ricky's hoodies, there was comfort. Sure there are moments where a storm hits and neither of them have an umbrella... but that just means they'll end up finding an awning together, soaking wet but basking in each other's warmth.

Sandalwood, cherries, and throb cologne.

And as Ricky smiles at him through the phone screen, he knows there's no one else he'd gladly weather any storm with but them.

[aliendes]

BTS reacts to saying something hurtful and then regretting it PT.1

gifs are not mine!

From this ask: hi, i wanted to request a bts reaction to them saying something hurtful in an argument and instantly regretting it? pls i need some angst/fluff 🥺

AN: WOOO this was a long one. Thank you for the request anon! I know you said angst/fluff, but this was a lot to write lol. This was my first time writing an angsty reaction. I typically write angsty stories, but not reactions, so this was fun! This is part one, if you want a part two, comment/send an ask! I’ll write it if there is interest. THIS IS UNEDITED I’M SORRY - Taehyung’s hurted  they all hurted. 

Warnings: cursing, name calling, mentions of mental illnesses (schizophrenia), being mean? Just really angsty ya’ll - I’m sorry! Oh and a tiny mention of blood, but it’s nothing serious. 

Word count: 4.8k~

Hearing the front door slam shut, you sit up straight in bed. Seokjin is home. You smile softly to yourself and look over at your bedside table. It’s 3:38 in the morning, way later than your boyfriend typically gets home, even during comeback promotions, and they didn’t have a comeback any time soon. Confused, you pulled the covers back and swung your legs out of bed. Walking over to your bedroom door, you slip on your house slippers and quietly open the door. 

Walking down the hallway, you immediately hear rummaging in the kitchen drawers. What is going on? When you round the corner, you are met with the sight of your tall boyfriend, dark hair a mess, rifling through your junk drawer in the kitchen. 

“Jin?” you asked, voice still sleepy and brow furrowed. 

Seokjin whips his head in your direction, ceasing his movements in the drawer. He has dark bags under his eyes, and he looks pale, like he hasn’t slept in days. You knew this to be false, since you slept in the same bed last night. “God damnit, YN!” he roared, walking towards you. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around your body and stiffened as he neared you. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Oh! I-I’m sorry,” you muttered, unsure of where Jin’s sudden anger was coming from, “I heard you-”

“You heard the door slam? Yeah, no shit, babe.” Jin walked up to you and was towering over you. You couldn’t decide if you thought he was mad at you or just mad in general. All you knew is that he was fuming. Jin never gets mad, so this had you all the more confused. Just as you were about to ask what was wrong, Jin stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall. You were left standing, gaping towards him, in the middle of the hallway. 

It takes you a moment to get a grip on reality again, but soon after you’re stumbling down the hall back towards your bedroom. You’re feeling a little upset by Jin’s attitude, but you chalk it up to a long day at work. Not thinking too much harder about it, you decide to just get back in bed, it is nearly 4 am now.

As you walk through the bedroom door, you find all the lights on. You squint your eyes and bring your forearm up to your head to block the bright lights from hurting your eyes. Just as you reach the bed, Jin comes out of your walk-in closet. 

“I’m sorry, am I inconveniencing you?” he taunts at the sight of you blocking your eyes, voice nothing like his typical calm and sweet demeanor. 

At this, you decide you’ve had enough. Sitting up from your place on the bed, you spin around and face your usually loving boyfriend. “Seokjin! What is the matter with you?” you try to voice calmly, but it comes out a little more high-pitched than you would like. You throw your arms up in defeat and let them fall limply to your sides. 

“Wrong with me? What do you mean, what’s wrong with me?! You’re the one who can’t seem to put things away!”

You blanch. What was he talking about? “What?”

“My fucking flash drive with all my lyrics on it!” he roars, stomping closer to you. You backup a step as he nears, making him pause and stare down at you. “You were the last one who had it, you wanted to take a look at the songs, wanted to give me ‘feedback’”, he uses air quotes, which only makes you angrier, he had asked you to give him feedback. “Now I can’t fucking find it because you can never put stuff away, you’re always so fucking messy!” he yells, taking the last few steps towards you so he’s looking down at you in an intimidating way. There is no way you’re taking this from him. 

You wrap your arms around yourself again and head straight for the closet and throw on leggings and a sweatshirt.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Jin yells, following you around as you quickly change, “you just gonna leave your messes like always?”

You abruptly stop what you’re doing and send him a glare, “Jin,” you breathe, “I’m trying not to let your shit mood ruin our relationship. Let me. Fucking. Go.” You push past him, shoes in hand, and head straight for your front door. Shoving your feet into your tennis shoes, you grab your backpack and keys, and slam the front door shut on your way out.

Your boyfriend is left standing, dumbfounded, in your shared bedroom. As he looks around him, he realizes what he’s just done. He’s been so caught up in the shit storm today has been that he took it out on you for no reason. It all started this afternoon when his manager asked him for his songs and he couldn’t find the flash drive, then he couldn’t get the choreo right at practice, and he couldn’t even get dinner because of how busy their schedules were. But all of that was no excuse for how he just treated you. In his reverie, he doesn’t hear the slam of the front door. 

Seokjin rushes out into the living room, hands running through his hair as he attempts to chase after you. He looks to the front door, frantically searching for you. He sees that your bag is missing and your keys are no longer on the key hook. Grabbing his jacket, he rushes out the front door, not even bothering to grab his phone or his wallet, just trying to get to you as quickly as possible before he loses you for good. 

“W-what?” your bottom lip trembles as you stare at your hot headed boyfriend. Staring across from his studio from you, are his dark eyes, narrowed and focused on your retreating figure. He had just called you the one thing you didn’t think he would ever throw in your face, he was the one person you never imagined calling you that. “Y-Yoongi-”

“You heard me, YN,” he bites back, “stop acting fucking crazy.”

There it was again. That word. Crazy. He knows it’s a soft spot for you. Your mom was diagnosed with schizophrenia when you were twelve, and you had a rough childhood growing up with her. You knew it ran in the family, and you’ve been terrified of the diagnosis for years, aware that it usually occurs in your early twenties. Yoongi was well aware of this fact, too. He tells you constantly that you are not, in fact, crazy, and that you aren’t going to end up like your mother. But now, standing across from you with his arms folded over his chest, he’s now said it. Twice. And for what? Because you’ve been on his ass the last couple of days about coming home from the studio, begging him to take a break? That was his reasoning. Despite you knowing it’s not true, it still hurt you beyond belief to hear those words coming from the only person in the whole world who insists they would never call you something like that, and now he’s stooping so low because he wants to hurt you. 

You back all the way up until the metal doorknob of Yoongi’s studio door is pushing into your lower back painfully. The feeling grounds you for a moment as you shake your head back and forth quickly, trying to remove the thoughts that your boyfriend has planted there. “I have to go,” you whisper, staring down at the ugly gray colored carpet.

Reaching behind you, eyes still trained on the floor, you crack open the door before turning and slipping out of it. Once the door is closed behind you, you take a second to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, closing your eyes tightly. You think you hear movement coming from the studio, but you don’t dare look back. Instead, you take off running down the hallway, unsure of where you were headed, just knowing you needed to get out of there. 

On your way out of the building, you don’t notice Jungkook yelling after you, nor do you notice that you’d forgotten your bag, jacket, and phone in Yoongi’s studio. You just run. 

Back in his studio, Yoongi is contemplating his life choices. Lips pressed together tightly, he sits in his comfy chair and leans his head back. He doesn’t deserve you. He deserves to burn in hell for what he just did to you. He knows it, yet he won't go after you. He knows you need time away from him. 

Yoongi is startled out of his thoughts by the maknae bursting through his door, hand over his heart, panting from the exertion of running up two flights of stairs. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook pants, “It’s YN, sh-she looked really upset, I-I tried to stop her but it was like she couldn’t hear me.”

“I know,” Yoongi says blankly, still staring at his computer.

Jungkook blanches, lips in a small ‘o’ as he lightly shakes his head back and forth in confusion. “What do you mean, you know?”

“I’m the reason she’s upset.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at the back of his edler’s head, “Hyung, she looked more than ‘upset’. She looked distraught.” Jungkook was getting mad at his member, unsure why he would be okay with you looking the way you did just now. 

“I’ll deal with it later, Kook,” he grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face, “leave it alone.”

“No, Yoongi,” he dropped the honorific, making Yoongi turn around in his chair to stare at his usually overly polite friend, “if you aren’t going after her, I am. Look-” he points to the coffee table, “all her shit is here. You’re really going to let her go like that?”

Yoongi glances at your stuff. Your bag, jacket, and phone are sitting right there in front of him. Shit. He sighs. “I fucked up.”

Walking into your apartment after work, you weren’t expecting to find Hoseok home. He usually doesn’t get home from work until really late at night, unless he’s off. Did you mix up the days again? 

Dropping your bag by the front door, you toe off your shoes and head down the hallway towards the sound of loud music playing. When you reach Hoseok’s home studio door, you gently knock three times, before pushing it open. 

Hoseok is sitting at his desk, a pair of headphones on, music programs open on his laptop. Smiling warmly, you walk over to him, placing your hands softly on his shoulders. You didn’t expect him to startle so violently, but he jumped at your touch, ripping his headphones off his head and standing up from his seated position. It all happened so quickly, it scared you and you jumped backwards, nearly tripping on the fuzzy rug behind you.

“Fuck! YN!” he roared, eyes heated and narrowed at you, “Can’t you fucking see that I’m working?!”

You took another step backwards, eyes blinking rapidly to stop the onset of tears that were threatening to fall. “I-I’m sorry Seok, I-I,”

“You what?” he asked menacingly, “You’re too dumb to notice my headphones. I’m working. Leave me alone.” Hoseok turns around, grabbing his headphones roughly and sits back down in his chair.

You swallow thickly, hot tears burning your eyes, as you take another step backward. This time, you aren’t as lucky, and your heel catches on the rug. In shock, you don’t catch yourself on the way down, falling right on your tailbone, probably bruising it. But in your state of disbelief, you don’t even feel it. 

Hoseok turns around at the loud thump, only to notice you on the floor, tears streaming down your face. Instantly, he regrets everything he just said to you. He’s had a bad day at work, unable to get any lyrics down on paper, and he just took it out on you. His eyes soften, but you don’t notice, too focused on scrambling to your feet and stumbling back down the hallway towards the front door. 

Hoseok stands, walking after you quickly, “YN- wait!”

But it’s too late, you’re already gone. You slipped on your heels and burst through the front door, still in your work clothes. Hoseok runs his long fingers through his hair, tugging at it in frustration, letting out a roar of anger. Could this day get any worse?

It’s been a rough week in yours and Namjoon’s household. At the start of the week, your car broke down, resulting in you having to borrow his, which resulted in him being late for practice multiple times this week. On Wednesday, there was a security breach in your company's database, making it so all employees on your floor had to work from home while they investigated. This meant you and Namjoon were spending more time together throughout the week, which normally wouldn’t be a problem, but your boyfriend has been extremely stressed about the new album that’s being released at the end of the year, and having you at home while he’s trying to write has been incredibly distracting. All of this has resulted in more petty arguments between the two of you, which seemed to come to a head tonight. 

“Joon, please put your laundry in the basket,” you grumble, picking up his dirty sweats and throwing them into the hamper you shared, “I’m working from home for now and I would like it to be clean.”

“Just because your job sent you home doesn’t mean you can hang around all day and tell me what to do. We’ve been living together for two years, YN, you know I leave clothes around.” 

You did know that, and you were sure that if you weren’t stuck in the house all day, it wouldn’t bother you. Much like it hasn’t for the last two years, like Namjoon said. But for whatever reason, the tension between the two of you was high. Both of you were looking for little things to fight about.

“Namjoon, please, just clean up after yourself,” you were exhausted. You didn’t want to argue with him, you just wanted to get back to your data report, but he had other ideas. 

“Can’t you just shut up for once?” Namjoon sneers, looking at you through narrowed eyes, arms crossed over his chest, and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Excuse me?” you bite back, turning around and glaring at your tall boyfriend, who was now walking towards you, arms still crossed. 

“You heard me, YN,” he growled, “just shut up and leave me alone. You’re always nagging me, it’s fucking annoying.”

That was it. You didn’t even offer a response, instead, turning around and grabbing your laptop. Walking over to the closet, you grab a backpack and shove some clothes and your laptop inside it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, coming towards you, “Where are you going?” His last sentence sounded a bit more panicked, the edge to his voice gone. 

“What does it look like, Namjoon?” you scoffed, still stuffing things into your bag, “You literally just told me to leave you alone. No problem.” Shoving the last of your stuff into your bag, you stomp out of the room, grabbing your phone, purse and keys from the coffee table. 

“YN-”

“No, Namjoon. You said to leave you alone,” you said blankly, staring up at his dark eyes, “goodbye.”

You turn on your heel and open the door, letting it slam shut behind you. 

Smiling to yourself, you push the button in the elevator, watching the sleek chrome doors close in front of you. You’d just picked up Jimin’s favorite takeout and we’re bringing it up to him in the practice room. It was your weekly routine, every Thursday after your last class, you’d come and have an early dinner with him before his late practice.

Stepping off the elevator, you could hear the loud music coming from down the hall in the practice room. Smiling even brighter at the thought of seeing your sweet boyfriend, you make your way down the hallway with the warm food in your arms. 

Pushing the door open with your foot, you instantly see Jimin and Hoseok dancing in the middle of the room. Deciding to not be a bother, you head to the corner and set the food down on the table, carefully taking everything out and plating it. After a few minutes, you hear the music cut off and Jimin and Hoseok talking intensely across the room. You don’t really pay attention, not one to eavesdrop, and patiently wait for your boyfriend to be done. 

After a few moments of what sounded like arguing, Jimin walks over to the table, placing a hand on the small of your back and leaning over to kiss the top of your head. You smile at the gesture, but when you turn around, it’s not Jimin, but your best friend, Hoseok in his place. “Hey bub,” he whispers, leaning down to speak into your ear, “I think you should go home.”

“What do you mean? It’s Thursday…” you trail off, looking behind your bubbly best friend to see your boyfriend, sulking in the corner, arms crossed, sitting on the floor. “What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hoseok says gently, smiling down at you, “I’m sure he’ll tell you later, but you know how he gets.” You nodded, because yes, you do know when he gets into these moods, he’s hard to talk to. 

“Okay, just let me make sure he’s okay,” you start to walk towards your boyfriend's small frame, but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, bub.” Turning towards Hoseok, you smile up at him, but he doesn’t return the gesture, sending worry down your spine.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, turning back towards Jimin. You don’t see the way Hoseok winces when you walk towards the younger man and crouch down next to him.

“Jimin?” you ask sweetly, making him glance up at you before fixing his gaze on the wall. 

“Please leave, YN,” he says flatly.

“I am. But, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and to let you know that I left food-” 

“You never fucking listen, YN!” Jimin screamed, standing up and making you fall back onto your butt. The force of the fall makes a loud thump on the wooden floor, making Hoseok rush over to make sure you’re okay. “I told you to leave!” You flinch as Jimin’s arms fly up in frustration.

Helping you up, Hoseok sends a pointed look at his friend, “Jimin,” he warns. Like a flip was switched, Jimin’s eyes instantly softened at the sight of you cowering in fear on the floor, your face pushed into Hoseok’s chest. Jimin realizes what he’s just done and immediately pulls his arms down to the side, horrified at himself for scaring you like that. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly. 

Wiping tears from your wet cheeks, you allow Hoseok to stand you up straight, before you’re taking off out of the practice room and back into the elevator you came up on. 

Hoseok sighs, watching your back as you fly down the hallway. When he turns to look at Jimin, the younger man realizes that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. At the realization of what he’s just done, he breaks down, knees hitting the floor, face falling into his hands. Hoseok doesn’t help him, he just walks away, in search of his broken best friend.

Taehyung lets his duffle bag slip off his shoulder and hit the floor with a muted thump. Walking further into your shared apartment, he sees your half-eaten dinner sitting in the kitchen sink, his portion packed away and on the countertop. He lets out a sigh at the sight. He knew he should’ve been home hours ago, knew he should’ve texted you to let you know, but it slipped his mind. He was so caught up at practice, he couldn’t be bothered to go and find his phone. 

Taehyung has had a really long day. First thing this morning, he was yelled at by his manager about something he had posted on Weverse the night before, and then it escalated into having to talk about the lyrics for his new song that he hasn’t been able to finish. He knows he’s been walking on thin ice with the company lately, but things have been getting better, or at least he thought they were.

Walking down the hall he noticed that your bedroom light is off, which is unusual. He checked his watch, it’s only 11 pm, not that late in your book. You were usually up until 1 or 2 in the morning. 

Pushing open the door, he sees your small frame curled up under the thin sheet on the bed, comforter pushed onto the floor. Upon hearing the door creak, you sit up slightly, turning towards the source of the sound.

“Taehyung?” you whisper into the darkness, not yet having fallen asleep, but incredibly exhausted from your workout earlier. 

“Hey,” he responds quietly. You can hear in his voice that something is wrong, and you immediately scramble to get out of bed and over to your boyfriend. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” you ask sweetly, looking at him through dark lashes. You’re so beautiful, even in your sleepy state that it almost hurts him. You’re too good for him. Always so caring and kind, even when he’s been the absolute opposite towards you. How can you always be so happy and optimistic? Even when the world is against you? He envies your positivity, and some days he wishes you would rub off on him a bit more. 

“Nothing,” he grunts, shaking your hand off his arm. The look of hurt that flashes across your face hurts his heart. He knows he’s being bitter and has no reason to be, sometimes it’s just hard being around your bubbly self when he’s become so self-loathing, “Just go to sleep.”

“Tae?”

“What,” it comes out harsher than he meant it to, making you flinch, face scrunching up in confusion.

“Did I- did I do something?” you ask quietly, biting your bottom lip a little too hard, nervous for his answer.

He lets out a rough sigh, “Yeah, actually,” he starts, “why can’t you just leave me alone for once? Just because you’re always happy and in a good mood, doesn’t mean I am.”

You shake your head in confusion, “I- I know, Tae. I’m sorry if my mood upsets you-”

“Stop!” he roars, making you step back, “Just, stop, okay?! Stop apologizing, stop being so nice, stop being so fucking perfect!”

You’re so taken aback and dumbfounded, you can’t think of words to say, instead forming a small ‘o’ with your lips and sulking backwards. You attempt to make yourself as small as possible, arms wrapped around your middle, head bowed low, as he continues his barrage.

“Just because you’re the fucking poster child for positivity doesn’t mean that everyone else has to be, too! I wish you would just get mad sometimes. You aren’t normal, YN!” The moment the words leave his mouth, he knows he fucked up. He doesn’t want you to get mad, he loves your personality. It’s one of the reason he absolutely fucking adores you. He doesn’t ever want you to be mad, or sad, but yet, as you stare back at him with glassy eyes and a bloody lip from how hard you’re biting it, all he sees is sadness. “YN- I,” he starts, but you’re already running into your shared bathroom and locking the door behind you.

He rushes towards the door but is too late, feeling a gust of air blow off of it from the force of being closed. Pushing his forehead against the cold wood, he lets out another sigh. Before he even has a chance to speak, he hears your broken sobs right on the other side. You must be leaning against the door, too. His heart crumbles into pieces at the fact that he just broke you. The love of his life, his sunshine, his world. 

Singing to yourself, you dance around your kitchen, prepping all the vegetables you have laid out for your dinner tonight. You were making a simple stew with vegetables and beef. It was one of Jungkook’s favorite recipes of yours and since he was off tomorrow, you wanted to surprise him with a nice cooked meal. 

Entering the apartment, Jungkook instantly smelled food cooking from the kitchen. It smelled heavenly, but his sour mood from the day and the fight he had earlier with Namjoon was enough to make him not hungry for whatever it was that you were cooking. 

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he drops his keys on the marble countertop, startling you. You gasp, dropping the knife you were holding onto the cutting board, instantly pulling your hand to your chest. Turning around, you notice your boyfriend staring at you curiously. 

“Fuck, YN,” he says, rushing over to you, “let me see.”

You hold your hand out to him, finger stinging in pain and eyes filling with tears at the feeling. He takes your hand carefully, looking over the superficial cut. “It’s not that deep, YN. Just get a bandaid.”

He releases your hand and you blink up at your normally kind and caring boyfriend. You could see the bags under his eyes and the exhausted look on his face, but something else was hiding just under the surface. You sniffle a couple times, fighting back the tears from cutting yourself. 

“I uh - I’m making dinner,” you say, trying to change the subject, embarrassed about cutting yourself and worried that he might be mad at you, “it should be done soon.”

“I’m not hungry,” he mutters, heading to the fridge to grab a water bottle, “I’ll be in the office.”

“Kook,” you say, walking after him, “wait, are you oka-” 

Before you could finish your sentence, your foot was catching on the kitchen rug, making you slip and fall forward directly into Jungkook’s back.

Turning around just in time to catch you, Jungkook picks you up and stands you back up. “Jesus, YN,” he grumbles, “how fucking clumsy can you be?”

“W-what?” you ask, clutching your still bleeding finger to your chest.

“You’re like a child, you can’t do anything on your own. You’d probably end up burning the house down if I wasn’t here.”

You were shocked. Jungkook has never spoken to you like that before. Never in the three years you’ve been together has he been this cold. Never has he made fun of your clumsiness before, always claiming he thought it was a cute quirk of yours. 

Huffing a sigh, Jungkook turns back around and heads down the hall to his office. Still shell shocked, you sink to the floor, mind reeling from his words. A child? Did he really think that of you? In a daze, you don’t realize the blood dripping onto the floor, mixing with salty tears. 

Once Jungkook closes the door to his office, he pushes his forehead against the frame, realizing what he’s just said. He was mad at Namjoon, not you, and he was finding reasons to take it out on you. He’s never been so cruel to you, and he instantly regrets it, wanting to find you and make it right.

Speed-walking towards the kitchen, he notices the stove top still on, vegetables boiling, but you’re nowhere to be found. He quickly shuts off the burner. Maybe there was some truth to his words. No, he shakes the thought off, now is not the time. Stepping around the kitchen counter, he steps into a small puddle of blood and water… or were those tears? Shit.

He hurries into the living room, calling your name, but you aren’t there either. Heading back down the hall to check the bedroom, he sees the front door is open and your bag is missing. Eyes screwed shut, Jungkook lets out a long sigh. He really fucked up. 

[your-eternal-muse]

Kinda Wish She Were Dead

Heather Series Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Bonus! Readers Card Confession Series Playlist 

Summery: During a night out on the town with the girls, Reader see’s something she wasn’t supposed to.

Words: 3.7k (my longest yet!)

Warnings: Swearing, a few sexual innuendos, Cheating, Mentions of Alcohol, and a fabulous right hook.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader 

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one....turn it up! Also, the song that inspired this chapter. For the meaning of the song, not that fucking boat scene.

~~~~

It’s hot.

Like “laying naked in the middle of your apartment with the air cranked and every fan blowing on you” hot.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

My old apartment was renovated to include central air a few years before I moved in.

Still, the humidity was smothering.

So why was I putting a full face of makeup on, knowing damn well I’m gonna sweat it off before the end of the night?

Because why the hell not?

It’s the first time I’ve made plans with the girls in months, and I deserve to feel pretty, even if only for an hour or two.

My therapist tells me I’m making progress.

And it finally feels like I am.

I don’t hate the day before it even starts when I wake up.

I hardly close my curtains anymore.

I’d like to say that with her help, everything went back to normal.

I go to work and come home. I hang out with my friends, water my potted plants. Talk to Spencer like I never confessed my love for him.

But it didn’t.

I haven’t really spoken to Spencer since the day I left.

I’ve wanted to.

I’ve wanted to tell him that I’m here. I’m still here. That I’m always going to be here.

That I care about him more than probably life itself.

Ever since I came back, we’ve had to work together, and we’ve had a few small conversations, but nothing like what we used to have.

I crave those conversations.

How we would bounce back and forth from idea to idea, topic to topic without so much as breaking a sweat.

The late night conversations about the probability of aliens, and life on the opposite side of the universe.

I crave him, and the intimacy he brought.

Lately though, he’s been coming to work with a sullen look on his face.

He shows up earlier, and stays later, drowning himself in his paperwork.

When her calls interrupt a caseload, he no longer eagerly picks up to hear what she has to say.

All I want to do is walk over and ask him how he’s doing. How the married life is treating him. If there’s anything I can do to help lift his spirits.

But I can’t.

I’d be overstepping a boundary I didn’t even know I created that night out on the balcony.

Knocking on my door snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly cap my lipstick, making my way towards my front door where my night stands, waiting.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope are waiting, big smiles and laughter bubbling from their lips.

I let the smile spread across my face.

“I just need to grab my shoes and then I’ll be ready.” I usher them into my hallway, running back to my bedroom to grab the pair of heels resting by my closet.

I sit on my bed, slipping them on with ease and grabbing my bag on my way out.

They all ooh and ahh when I step into the light of my kitchen, and JJ grabs my hand, twirling me in place so they can get a better look at my outfit.

“I almost forgot you had party attire, y/n.” 

“God, I wish I had an ass like that. I’m older than you. That’s not fair.” Emily says, landing a playful slap against the fabric of my skirt. 

“Oh stop it, you flatter me.” Once upon a time, the attention would have made me antsy. The voice in my head would whisper that they were lying to me, that they really thought I was the ugliest thing in existence. 

That was then, and this is now. Now the confidence shines off of me like a spotlight.

“You deserve to be flattered, you beautiful goddess you.” Penelope says, her hands waving in the air.

I take a look in the new mirror that hangs in my hallway, and I can’t help but agree. The tight black skirt accentuates my curves, the low cut golden crop top that sticks to me like another skin puts the girls on display, and my heels give me legs for days.

I look damn good.

“Okay okay okay, pre-game selfie!” Penelope grabs her phone and holds up in front of her while we gather around. 

She snaps the picture and within a few quick taps, a buzzing emits from my bag. 

I dig my phone out, seeing the picture pop up in my notifications. 

JJ has her arms wrapped around me, and I’m pressed to Penelope's side. Emily stands over us, one hand on JJ’s shoulder, the other on Penelopes. 

I don’t think I could fake a smile like the one on my face even if I wanted to. 

I save it to my phone.

~~~

If I thought being in my house, alone, with air conditioning was bad, then I shouldn't have even bothered coming out.

The bar, albeit small, was packed. 

Even if there was a breeze, or any airflow at all, the combined body heat of the crowd would have swallowed it up.

I couldn’t really bring it in me to care all that much, though.

The dim lights and heat left my skin with a sexy shine, bringing attention to all the right places. 

I could feel the eyes on me. 

The ones belonging to men wanting to drown their sorrows in a woman like me, one who appears vulnerable, willing to go along for the ride.

It’s been a while, since I’ve had the attention of the opposite gender, especially this very specific kind of attention.

It feels good, in a way. To be wanted so openly. But it doesn’t mean jack to me, not if it’s not the pair of eyes I’ve been desperate to catch.

I should stop thinking about him.

It’s a girls night out. I don’t have to think, or worry about anything. 

Besides, he’s probably busy doing other things. Thinking about me is the last thing on his mind.

I laugh and take a sip from the Shirley temple sitting in front of me, laughing as JJ recounts a story about will and a botched attempt at breakfast in bed.

I pick a cherry up from the fizzy drink, and bite the end off, relishing in the sweet flavor. I pop the stem in my mouth, twirling it around my tongue as I listen to the conversation, pulling it between my teeth and setting it down on the table in a knot.

“Oh my god. Did you just tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” Penelope is cheesing from the other side of the table, the bright pink straw of her margarita almost to her lips.

I laugh, holding it up for them to inspect. 

“You know what that means.” Emily says, taking a sip from her own drink, before continuing her thought. “You, my friend, can give great head.”

A blush covers my cheek, but I cock an eyebrow. “Who told you?”

The three women burst into high pitched laughter, and I see Pen pull out her phone. She holds it up to me. 

“Do it again. The internet needs to be blessed with this knowledge.”

I chuckle again, the spirit of the night enough to get me drunk off the energy. I grab another cherry from my drink, sucking the end into my mouth before popping it off, and swallowing it. 

“Alright, we have one, untied cherry stem before us.” I hold out the stem for the camera to see. “Now watch as I tie it with no hands.”  I stick out my tongue, placing it in the middle before closing my mouth. 

I rest my elbows on the table, working my tongue around the stem, forcing it into submission to do exactly what I want. 

Within 15 seconds, I pull it through my teeth, and hold up a tied cherry stem. 

“Ta-da! Magic.” I place it on the table as they clap, smiles wide and goofy from their own alcoholic concoctions. 

“She’s single people. And there’s a line forming so shoot your shot.” JJ is the one to speak to the camera, and I giggle, taking another sip. 

Penelope brings her phone down, and within a minute my phone buzzes again, this time with the notification of the video being posted. 

There are worse things to be posted on the internet about me.

“I never knew you could do that, y/n/n.” Pen says, taking a sip from her drink. 

I run a hand through my hair, shrugging. “Didn’t think I needed to put it on my resume. It’s mostly a party trick I use when I like someone. I haven’t used it in years though.”

The unspoken question lingers on the air. 

“No, I never showed Spencer. But I’m sure it’d blow his mind. The way that man applies math and logic to everything he does just solidifies the fact that I know he wouldn’t be able to do it.”

It’s been a while since I’ve joked about him openly, but it wasn’t forced. It didn’t hurt. 

It was just a natural statement.

“Have you guys noticed that something’s up with him? He seems distant lately.” JJ says, leaning in closer so she doesn’t have to talk over the crowd. 

“Okay, so it’s not just me.” I reply, playing with the straw in my drink.

“It’s gotta be something at home. I mean, he doesn’t even remotely act the way that he did when him and Heather first got together.” Emily's eyes look me up and down, reading my body language, but I’m done hiding. 

I let the building anger ripple through me.

“He seems...sad. And not like, normal Reid sad where it has to do with his mom or something, no this is like..” she stops herself from continuing the sentence.

I finish it for her. “It’s like, me, sad.”

JJ sighs. “I hate to say it, but do you think it has anything to do with Heather?”

A glass shatters across the room, and like the red sea, the crowd parts.

Everything happens in no more than a couple seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. 

Through the empty space, I see two people standing at the bar. The woman has her hands wound into the man's shirt, her body turned as she laughs at someone behind her, I’m assuming the one who dropped the glass. 

The man has his hands gripped on her hips, smiling into her hair, before she turns back around, connecting their lips in the most disgusting kiss I have had the displeasure of witnessing.

The rage builds swiftly in my stomach and it pulses from my soul outward. The world’s tint changes and I see red.

“Even if it doesn’t right now, it will.” 

When the hell did I stand up?

They stand with me, and I’m about to argue my point when Emily speaks. “You want something to record, Garcia?” She moves by me, fixing my hair, handing me her glass which holds a swig of her drink left. “Record this.” 

I take it, downing it for a little liquid luck, and start for the bar, the three of them on my heels.

I profile him as best I can in the 20 seconds it takes to get through the now reforming crowd. 

There’s a gold ring on his hand. His pants and shirt are dirty, and his boots are thick. He works in something having to do with construction, which means he’s probably done around 5 every night, and I know for a fact that it is way past that.

I walk up to them, grabbing her shoulder and pulling them apart, stepping in between them, getting face to face to him.

“Before you even think about laying a hand on me, my name is SSA Y/L/N of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I. From the look of your clothes and the ring on your finger, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that your wife is waiting for you at home.” 

His hand instinctively falls to his back pocket.

“And since you just reached for what I’m assuming is your phone, she’s called you multiple times tonight. She knows. Now, fuck off and maybe you can salvage things with her, but believe me when I say this,” His breath smells sour. “You aren’t even half the man that she’s married to.” 

He opens his mouth to say something, looking from me, to Heather, to the three women surrounding her, keeping her from leaving, and the camera pointed directly at his face.

He looks back down to me, and huffs, stepping back and walking in the other direction.

For a moment, I stare at where he stood. 

And then a fire ignites in my stomach and it takes everything in me to not beat the girl standing behind me.

I turn, and lightning strikes behind her eyes. 

“You’re not gonna tell him.”

“Like hell I’m not!” I take a step forward, and she takes one back, bumping into Emily who has her arms crossed, and her shoulders raised. “You know, I tried so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, Heather. You made him happy and I honestly thought you loved him, but I realize now that he deserves someone so much better than you.” 

“Oh what, someone like you?” She’s snide, her demeanor defensive and cocky at the same time. She thinks she’s gonna come out on top of this.

“You know what? Yes. Someone like me. Someone who wouldn’t even think about doing this to him, because the amount of pain that he is about to go through doesn’t even come close to the stupid fucking reward. Oh, so you slept with some douchebag because what? You’re not getting enough attention?” The words are cathartic, leaving my belly with the venom that has been brewing there for the past 2 and half years.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

That would have stopped me in my tracks 6 months ago. Now I don’t even flinch.

“Oh honey, it’s not a fucking secret anymore. You want to hear me say it? I love him. I am in love with Spencer fucking Reid, and the only reason that he is with you, is because I was a decent human being and could see that you made him happy, so I kept my mouth shut. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens now, because whatever it is, it has to be better than being with a lying, cheating bitch like you.”

“You think he’s gonna run to you? Is that what you’re hoping for? He’s not gonna believe you. And even if he did, I’d turn on the water works and make him believe it was just this one time.”

She doesn’t know she’s being filmed. 

I turn to the bartender. “Excuse me, is she a regular here?”

The bartender smirks, wiping down the wood. “Yep. She comes in at least a couple times a week with that dude you kicked to the curb. They almost always leave together.”

Heather scoffs, crossing her arms. “Again, he’ll never believe you.” 

“You sure about that hot stuff?” Penelope steps forward, shoving the camera in her face. “Smile for the camera.”

Heather's eyes go wide, before turning to me. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“I would do it for a fucking corn chip.” 

I place my hands on my hips, getting so close to her our noses almost touch. My voice is dangerously low when I speak. “Either you tell him everything or I will. And trust me. I have my ways of finding out if you did.”

I step back, wishing the daggers in my eyes could inflict actual pain, as I turn to walk away. 

I hear her shout in frustration before I feel her hands on my back, pushing me forward into the mass of people. 

A couple people unaware of the confrontation help me back up with a smile, thinking I’ve just drunkenly tripped over myself.

Emily and JJ each hold one of my arms, making sure I’m stable, while Penelope keeps filming a look of shock on her face.

A wicked smile forms on my face.

I was hoping she’d do something like that.

I turn and my fist connects with her face, a nice cracking noise satisfying the lust building in my chest, as a thin coat of blood covers my knuckles. 

Though, it’s not my blood. 

She’s holding her nose in pain as she falls to the floor, taking down a bar stool with her, and I swear I see the bartender laugh.

I grab a napkin off the bar, wiping my knuckles before throwing it on the floor by her feet. 

“C’mon girls. The night is still young.” 

I see them cover their own smiles with their hands, and Penelope starts to giggle the shock away. 

I know I should feel bad. It was unprofessional of me. 

But she shoved me first. 

It is, legally, self-defense. 

Is it sick that I wish she would have punched me?

It doesn’t matter anyway. I know she won’t press charges. She’s smart enough to know she just dug her grave.

And now she has to lie in it.

~~~~

The atmosphere is different when I walk into the office the next morning. 

It’s tense. 

And one look from JJ and an inhale of air tells me why. 

Spencer’s here. 

I barely have time to set my bag down on my desk, before he grabs me suddenly by the arm, dragging me into a nearby conference room.

The anger is rolling off of him in waves, and I can see by the way he clenches and unclenches his fists, he is pissed.

He almost throws me into the room, slamming the door behind him. 

“You want to tell me why the fuck you punched Heather in the face for no damn reason?”

Stupid, stupid girl. 

Did she not think, that the way I would find out, would be from Spencer himself?

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. “She didn’t tell you.”

“She told me that she was having a drink with a girlfriend of hers when you came up drunk, yelling at her, until you just punched her. Can you explain that to me?”

He’s finally yelling at me. After months of begging for him to yell at me, he finally is. 

It doesn’t feel as good as I had hoped it would.

I don’t say anything, just pull out my phone to find the video that Garcia sent me.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N? Put your fucking phone down and explain to me why you broke my wife's nose!”

I sit in a chair, setting the phone on the table and sliding it towards him. I lean back and cross my hands over my stomach.

“Watch the video, Spencer.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything you tell me?”

I lean forward, onto my elbow, annunciating every syllable. “Watch the damn video.”

He stands, and I watch as he fights with himself, before huffing in defeat, sitting in a chair and pulling my phone towards him.

He presses play.

I watch as his anger flows away with each passing second, despair taking its place. 

This is what I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing him see it for the first time.

Watching him break. 

It wasn’t pretty.

I watch as tears form in his eyes and silently drop down his cheeks. 

He clenches his jaw as he watches her shove me, and the punch that followed. 

The room is dead quite when the video ends.

I’m the one who speaks first, my voice soft. 

“I punched her, because she had the audacity to do this. She had the audacity to hurt you, and flaunt that fact publicly.” 

I swallow, taking a breath before speaking. 

“I meant everything I said in that video, Spence.” 

He looks up at the nickname, his anger no longer directed at me.

“She hurt you, and I saw red. I didn’t think about what I was doing, and frankly, I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t regret standing up for you. I never have, and I never will.”  I clasp my hands together, forcing myself to continue. 

“I love you Spencer. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I’m going to have to live with you finding other people and falling in love, and I promise you, I will support you in that. But not with her. Not after that. You deserve so much better than a girl who thinks she can get away with this just because she’s pretty and jealous.”

He taps a couple things on my phone, before turning the screen off and sliding it back over to me. 

He stands. 

I don’t. I continue talking as he walks over to me.

“You mean everything to me, Spence. If I know you’re happy, truly happy, then I’m satisfied. I will defend you until the end of the universe comes. You are my best friend, and I love you. And I’m sorry I was never upfront about it before, but I am now.”

I look up at him as he stands in front of me. “I’m done hiding from you.”

He’s still for a moment. 

He reaches down and grabs my hands, pulling me up before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries himself into my neck. 

I pause, but only for a moment, before wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight against me. 

I can feel the wet spots on my neck as he cries, and his hands wind themselves into the fabric of my shirt.

When was the last time he was held like this?

I don’t count the time until he loosens his grip, stepping back from me and wiping his face. 

I would hold him until the end of time if he let me.

“Thank you.” He whispers, before moving towards the door. 

He opens it and walks out, and I grab my phone, running after him.

I stop in the doorway. 

“Hey!” 

He stops and turns, and the rest of the team is watching over their files. 

My heart is pounding, and I feel out of breath.

“I don’t have a choice,” I let him remember. “But I still choose you.”

A small smile flutters across his face, before he turns and walks away.

I look down at my phone.

Spence xp

[Video]

    Sent, 9:06 a.m.

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[kurt-nightcrawler]

And I figured out we’re dating in this Chili’s tonight

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Request: Mother Nature and warren have my whole ass HEART!!!!! I loved flower so much. I know you’re gonna write lil dates one day I wonder if you’ll write something of how they officially got together?? Like who asked who to be each other’s girlf/boyf . Would be so cute I know you’re busy but either way all your fics are *chefs kiss* —(I think this was from an anon!)

Blurb: Mother Nature and Warren are officially dating! They figured it out!

Warnings: some language and mentions of sex

Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: the timeline is kind of all over. This is set before Decay but I posted it way after! Anyway! Enjoy!

Warren was on Instagram as Scott explained the plot of Fast and The Furious 7 to Jean. 

“It’s not good— but my dad loves them— mostly for the cars— but it’s supposed to be the last movie in the franchise. I think…” 

Warren rarely posted— on his story and his main page— but he looked at what his friends were up to. 

He tapped on (Y/N)’s profile icon to view her story— the highlight of his lunch period. She wasn’t around for the time being— she had mentioned a test she was retaking, which made Warren sad. He wouldn’t get to sit next to her and share whatever fruit she grew for lunch, but he also wanted her to do well and get good grades. 

(Y/N) had posted a photo of a movie poster with the caption, “OHMYGOD!! ” followed by a blue and yellow shocked face emoji and a heart-eyed emoji. The movie poster in question was for the animated Addams Family movie. 

“Is there a new Addams family movie coming out?” Warren asked. 

“Yeah, (Y/N) watched the latest trailer during class. She’s really excited about it,” Jean told him.

Warren felt himself get shaky with nerves and excitement. He could ask her to go see it with him. Just him. Not with the whole group, or Jubilee third-wheeling, or Jean and Scott with them, making out in the seat next to them. 

Wait. 

Am I going to ask her on a date? Is that what this is? A date? 

“You good?” Scott asked.

“What?” Warren glanced at him. “Oh, yeah… Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Okay.”

Warren went back to his phone, pressing reply to (Y/N)’s story post about the Addams Family movie coming out. 

He started to type out a message. 

“Hey. Would you want to see this together when it comes out? We could also go out for dinner?” Warren then promptly deleted the entire message. 

No, no. That makes me sound like a lonely middle-aged mom. He thought to himself.

“I think it was fine!”

“Ah!” Warren flinched. “Did you read my mind, Jean?” 

“No…” Jean denied.

Warren frowned. 

“I was curious as to what you were doing, and you were really nervous and your thoughts are loud anyway.” 

“What?” Scott asked. 

“Warren’s trying to ask (Y/N) out on a date to the movies,” Jean explained.

“It’s not a date!” Warren tried to defend.

“When is it ever going to be a date?” Scott asked. “It wasn’t a date when she slept over in your room and you watched Phineas and Ferb and ordered pizza. It wasn’t a date when you spent three hours at the library studying together. It wasn’t a date when you spent the afternoon together and she told you her secret brownie recipe! When is it ever going to be a date?”

“I… I don’t… Those were not dates...” 

“They kind of were,” Jean admitted. “That’s what people do on dates. Scott and I do stuff like that all the time…” 

Warren blinked. 

“You’ve dated people before, right?” Scott asked him.

“I mean “date” is a loose term but, yeah…” 

 Scott decided he didn’t have time to unpack that sentence. “Okay. What did you do with them to like, spend time together, and stuff?”

“We mostly just got drunk and hooked up…” 

Scott sighed, “You sound like my brother after he got out of jail.” 

“Warren, have… you… never been on a real date before?” Jean asked.

“Well, um, I mean, my last “girlfriend” and I went to clubs and stuff in Germany, but we’d usually go with some friends…” He admitted.   

“Oh my god…” Scott mumbled.

Warren panicked. “Wait, did— Did (Y/N) think we were dating this whole time?” 

“I don’t know,” Jean shrugged.

“Everyone else thought you guys were,” Scott muttered. 

“So we’ve been dating this whole time?” 

“I mean, kind of…” 

Warren paled. He had no idea what to do. Were they dating? Were they not dating? What was he supposed to do as a boyfriend? Or not a boyfriend? 

“Just ask her, ‘what are we?’ That should clear things up.” 

Warren gawked at Scott. “What are we? That’s the cliche that makes guys run for the hills! I can’t ask her that!”

“(Y/N)’s reasonable,” Jean reminded him. “If you ask her that, she won’t run away.” 

Warren didn’t say anything back. 

“Just ask her what you were originally going to say on Instagram.”

Warren whined. 

“Do it now.” Jean advised. “Before Jubilee makes plans to see the movie with her.” 

Warren paled at the possibility of (Y/N) not being available. He quickly typed out another message and sent it. 

“Oh my god! Oh my god, I just did that! Hhhhh…” Warren quickly threw his phone on the table and refused to look at it. 

Jean chuckled and rolled her eyes, taking his phone to see if (Y/N) replied.

—

(Y/N) finished her test early and decided to check up on some of the plants in the attic greenhouse before her next class. 

She had been focusing on a baby caladium, making sure it had plenty of sun and water and was growing at a healthy pace. 

(Y/N) named it, Warren Worthington IV, but she told no one and would take that piece of information to the grave.  

 As she was poking Warren the Fourth’s soil to see if it needed water for the day, she felt her phone vibrate against her thigh in her pocket. 

She pulled it out to see that Warren— the Third— had replied to her Instagram story. Her eyes turned pink just by reading his name on her phone screen.  

“Do you want to see this together Friday night? We could go to Chili’s before and get dinner?”

(Y/N) read the message over at least ten times. Dinner and a movie? Was Warren asking her on a date? 

Her eyes were orange in confusion and purple due to nerves. 

She took a few minutes but finally responded with, “Yeah! There’s a showing on Friday at 9 at the theatre by the mall. Does that work?” 

Warren immediately hearted the message and said, “Yeah :)” 

(Y/N) hearted his message. Excited and a bit nervous for Friday, she left the attic and headed to her next class. 

—

(Y/N) ignored any work she had after class and immediately went through her closet, rummaging for clothes.

“Whatcha doing?” Ororo asked, setting her books on her bed. 

“You’ve been on plenty of not date dates,” (Y/N) began. Ororo gave her a curious look. “What would you wear?”

“Are you going out on a date?” Ororo asked. 

“Well, not exactly…” (Y/N) confessed. 

Ororo smirked as she opened her notebook and started working on an assignment, “Is it with Warren?”

“Who else would it be?” (Y/N) asked.

“I don’t know… Dylan from math class? Ruby from my yoga class? The handful of people from Bayville you’ve kissed at house parties before you even knew Warren? There are options.”

(Y/N) was not amused. 

“Are you and Warren going out on a date? Or is this a ‘we’re just hanging out… alone together… but just as friends! Because we are friends! Who like each other very romantically! But we refuse to do anything about it!’”

(Y/N) sighed. “Okay, so he didn’t explicitly say it was a date, but we’re seeing the new Addams Family movie and going to Chili’s.” 

Ororo blinked in shock, Warren asked (Y/N) to see a movie about one of her favorite franchises and go to one of her favorite go-to restaurants, and he didn’t clarify if it was a date or not? 

What a dumbass, Ororo mused, tearing herself away from her work to go on her phone.

 Ororo

Are you and (Y/N) going on a date?

 No response. 

Ororo went back to her homework, glancing at (Y/N) every so often to give feedback on the numerous items she pulled out of her closet. 

“Is a dress too much?” 

“Definitely,” Ororo stated without looking up. “I’ve only worn a dress twice since I came here and one I borrowed from Jubilee.” 

(Y/N) sighed and kept looking for options. Ororo’s phone screen lit up, and she quickly grabbed it, checking to see if Warren responded.

 Warren

I think so???

 Ororo

What do you mean? “i tHiNk So” 

 Warren

*not amused emoji* 

I’m not sure if we’re dating or not. We were gonna talk about it at dinner.

 “Are you and Warren dating?” Ororo asked. 

(Y/N) froze at the question, unsure what to say. “I mean… no… but like, we like each other— or I like him. I think he likes me. Sometimes I’m not really sure—”

“—(Y/N),” Ororo interrupted. “He likes you a lot. Assume this is a date.” 

“Assume— What?” (Y/N) gaped.   

Ororo looked at her phone again, seeing five text messages from Warren in panic, asking why she didn’t respond.

 Ororo

Calm down!

You should thank me

 Warren

Ro…

What did you do?...

 Ororo

You have to trust me… ;)

 Warren

*Not amused emoji*

 Ororo left Warren on read and continued her assignment. Until someone barged into the room, unexpected.

Jubilee came in, bubbling with enthusiasm. “I heard from Jean! Oh my god, I have to help you pick out an outfit! This is huge!” 

“It’s not a date…” (Y/N) awkwardly tried to explain.

“Oh, no— it definitely is!” 

Ororo and (Y/N) were both confused. 

“We all know Warren is a little… emotionally hesitant…” Juilee carefully stated. “But like, if it was anyone else they would have literally said, “Wanna go on a date with me and see The Addams Family?” Warren’s just scared you’d say no— which you’d never do.” 

“Is he— I thought he knew I liked him?”

“He’s a guy,” Jubilee explained as she looked in (Y/N)’s closet for something she could wear. “They never know what they’re doing.”

(Y/N) sat on the floor, with more questions than answers from everything Jubilee had said.

“This would be perfect!” It was a black skater skirt. “Skirts are your best friend in times like these.” 

“Huh?” 

“Incase anything happens… Duh!” Jubilee stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. (Y/N) didn’t respond, causing Jubilee to groan. 

“From That 70s Show? Skirts are your best friend for sex. Zip, zip, bim, bam! You’re done, you’re dressed, you’re back to whatever you were doing. Nobody suspects a thing!” 

“Jubilee, they’re seeing a kids movie, not having sex,” Ororo told her.

“Hmm…” Jubilee crossed her arms. “You should still wear the skirt. You look really pretty in it anyway.” 

(Y/N) sat there, eyes wide and purple, mind reeling, trying to process what Jubilee said.

“We’re… We’re not going to have sex, are we? I’m not— I don’t think— I don’t even know if we’re dating or not!” 

“Hey, hey— Jubilee’s just messing around.” Ororo moved from her bed to sit next to (Y/N) and rub her back. “She’s just used to Scott and Jean’s shenanigans. Plus, Warren’s a good guy! He won’t pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to and he’s too nervous to do anything like that anyway.”

 “Warren’s like, obsessed with you, in a good way. And if he doesn’t respect your boundaries I can snap his neck for you.” Jubilee innocently smiled and batted her eyes. 

“Thanks… Do you think my soft dark green sweater would look good with the skirt?”

  “Oh my god yes!” Jubilee grabbed it out of the closet and set it on (Y/N)’s bed. “And with your Doc Martens? Goth little plant goddess vibes. I love it.”

“You think I’ll be warm enough? Should I bring a jacket?” (Y/N) checked the weather on her phone. 

“You should be fine! Besides, if you’re cold…” Jubilee smirked. “You can always cuddle with Warren in the movie theatre.” 

Ororo smiled and rolled her eyes, while (Y/N) decided to humor her, “I’ll keep it in mind.” 

—

Friday couldn’t come soon enough— Warren kept thinking about how (Y/N) said, “Yes.” And about what might happen, how he would bring up the question that would change everything. He was distracted during training, nervous, and lost in thought. He constantly talked about his weekend plans with some of their friends. 

Some found it annoying at first, but most had never seen Warren so passionate about something before. It was sweet.

“I dunno, I just want things to go well. But what if I make things awkward? I say or do something really stupid? What if I spill my drink all over my crotch and then it looks like I peed myself?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Ororo reassured him. 

“What if our server flirts with her?”

“Just glare at them. You’re scary enough.” 

Warren sighed, wishing time moved as fast for him as it did for Peter.

“Just be yourself and have a good time. Open doors for her, tell her she’s beautiful, if she’s cold give her your jacket, walk her back to her dorm room— things like that.” Ororo told him. “Those will make it obvious that it’s a date. Because you guys do date activities all the time, and you refuse to admit it’s a date.” 

Warren huffed at her. Ororo stuck out her tongue.  

—

It was Friday.

(Y/N) had been antsy in all of her classes, just wanting them to end so she could get ready for the night. 

She had her outfit picked out and ready. (Y/N) planned on light makeup— a little eyeshadow and lipgloss— and she had a small little purse packed with a few things. 

 (Y/N) started to doubt herself. “Maybe a skirt is too much… It’s dinner and a movie… Maybe I should just wear jeans…”  

She huffed as she held the skirt up to her waist. “But I wanna look cute… Screw it!” 

(Y/N) slipped the skirt and sweater on, doing a french tuck, and then started to apply makeup. She was done in under thirty minutes, and then looked over her hair in the mirror, trying to hastily pluck out leaves and shove flowers into different areas of her head and strategically place them under specific sections. 

Once (Y/N) was satisfied with how she looked, she checked the time. It was 5:30, and (Y/N) and Warren weren’t leaving until six. So she had time to just sit around and wait.

(Y/N) pulled her phone out and opened Snapchat, choosing to take at least a hundred selfies with different filters. 

Holding her phone from different angles, making different faces, posing in slightly different positions, and choosing a new filter every five photos, almost like a mini-photoshoot in the palm of her hand. Some selfies got posted to her Snapchat story, others were sent to Jubilee and Ororo, and the remainder were saved but would probably never see the light of day. She huffed and tapped through people’s Snapchat stories to kill more time.

Warren asked Jubilee for help. 

Well, he didn’t exactly ask, she just texted him, “I’m helping you get ready.” And he thanked her. 

“One of the hottest things a guy can do is have good hygiene. You, surprisingly, already have accomplished that—”

“Hey!” Warren frowned as he pulled his leather jacket out from his closet. “Did you, like, think I didn’t?”

“No! I’m just surprised you know what exfoliate means… Do you have a different jacket? That one is cute and everything, but it’s a bit much.” 

“It’s the easiest one I can get my wings out of,” Warren explained while slipping on a black shirt.

“Why? Also, do you only wear black?” Jubilee complained.

“In case (Y/N) gets cold…? Also, no, I have that one yellow sweater you made me get and some white shirts.” Warren defended.

Jubilee almost scoffed, “(Y/N)’s not going to get cold. You’re going out to eat and the movies.”

“Well, Ororo said I should give her my jacket in case she is cold.” 

“Fair enough,” Jubilee mumbled. “I was supposed to hang out with Ororo tonight… We were going to make Tiktoks and watch Wonder Woman.”

“I thought she went stargazing with Kurt?” Warren asked as he laced up his boots. 

“Yeah! And they didn’t invite me!” Jubilee flopped onto Kurt’s empty bed and huffed.

“Jubilee— I don’t think—”

“I’m a fucking delight to be around!” 

Warren’s eyes widened, “I didn’t say you weren’t.” 

“It sucks because Kurt’s got the accent, he can sword fight, he likes movies but hates Tarantino, he’s respectful, god and he’s just as hot as Ororo.” 

“Um…” Warren furrowed his brows. “Do you think, maybe— maybe uh, Ororo thinks you like Kurt?” 

Jubilee looked at him with a deadpan expression. Warren panicked, thinking he said the wrong thing. 

“I like both of them, Bird brain! It’s the fact they haven’t expressed liking me at all and probably don’t want that. Also like half of the girls at Bayville think Kurt’s hot and try to kiss him at house parties.” 

“Oh…” Warren hadn’t considered that. “Um… I uh, I had a threesome once—” 

“Oh my god! Stop!” Jubilee cringed. “I don’t wanna hear about that right now! Go get your girlfriend, and like, yawn, and stretch your arm out over her while Gomez confesses his undying love for Morticia for the millionth time.” 

“Okay, okay.” Warren grabbed his phone and wallet. “Don’t spend all night in here,” He advised, leaving Jubilee alone in his room. 

—

Warren sent (Y/N) a text, asking if she was ready. She said yes, and asked him to meet her in the common room area. 

Warren found her sitting in a lounge chair, talking to a student. (Y/N) turned her head and saw Warren. She got up and smiled, bid the other person goodbye, and then walked over to Warren. 

“Hey!” She greeted him. 

“Uh, hey.” Warren tried to discreetly check her out. She looked nice. “You look really nice.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” (Y/N)’s pink eyes shifted to a slightly purple hue. “You do too.”   

“Thanks… Are you ready to go?” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah. What car are we taking?”

“Um…” Warren realized he didn’t decide on which one of Xavier’s numerous cars he was taking out for the night. Not that it mattered, but he was a bit frustrated with himself on that one. 

“I don’t know…” 

(Y/N) snickered to herself. “That’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Jubilee and I do have a rule though.” 

“What is it?” 

“Whatever car Scott and Jean took last, don’t even touch it.” 

Warren blinked, “I don’t get it.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes turned purple completely. 

“Um, uh, it’s cause um— it’s not... clean...”

“Oh…” Suddenly, everything connected in Warren’s mind.  

“Oh!”       

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah...” 

“Scott likes the Oldsmobile rocket. Maybe we should avoid that one…”

“Yeah. Yeah…”

They picked a different car. Warren didn’t get a chance to open the door for (Y/N), but he told himself the night had only just begun, and he’d get another chance. 

 “Want me to play some music?” (Y/N) asked.

“Sure! Play whatever you want.”

“You don’t have a preference or anything…?” She questioned, while her thumb hovered over the play button of a playlist. 

“Not really… Besides, I can pick next time.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed purple and she mumbled in agreement and started a playlist. 

Warren cursed internally to himself. Why would I say that? Why did I say that!? As if I’d have the privilege of going out with her again after that dumbass sentence. 

Warren made a lame attempt to change the subject. “Are you excited about the movie?”

 “Yeah! They announced the cast like a year ago, and I thought it was going to be live-action, but animation is probably better for The Addams Family. It’s supposed to be really good! Oscar Isaac is voicing Gomez—” 

“—Who?”

“Poe from Star Wars…”

“Finn’s boyfriend?” Warren asked.

(Y/N) smiled, “Yeah, yeah. Him.” 

“I haven’t seen anything else he’s been in, but Kurt and Scott say he’s a really good actor.”

“Hmm…” I wonder if she thinks he’s hot… I mean Oscar is, but I doubt I can compete with that. 

No, no, Worthington. Remember what Jean said, “No self-deprecating thoughts.”

“Pugsley’s voiced by Finn Wolfhard. He was in Stranger Things…”

Warren nodded, he knew what Stranger Things was. He watched it with Jubilee, Kurt, and Ororo over Labor Day weekend.  

“He plays Will, right?” 

“No. Finn has curly hair…” “Dustin?...” Warren was unsure about his answer, but he knew Dustin had curly hair. 

“Mike. Eleven’s boyfriend? Black hair?” 

“Oh… Okay… I feel really stupid. I should have known that.” 

(Y/N) scoffed, “You’re fine. There’s like seven of them, and that’s not even including the adults and the characters our age.”

“Yeah, that’s true, I guess. I might rewatch it…” 

An idea came to (Y/N), “We should have like, a marathon with our friends! We could also play D&D.” 

“I never played before,” Warren admitted. 

“I haven’t either really… but I kind of know how to play… Scott’s played before! He was really into D&D before he came to Xavier’s.” 

Warren chuckled quietly, “That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Yeah, he’s kind of a dork, but just because you play a board game doesn’t mean you’re lame.”

“Yeah— Do you see any parking spots?” Warren asked.

(Y/N) shifted in her seat, looking for an empty spot, “Yeah, right there.” 

 Warren slowed down and started to pull in. “God, I’m so bad at parking. Please don’t judge me.” 

(Y/N) laughed, “You can’t be bad as Jubilee. She tried to park at the mall and ran over a curb. We thought the tired popped off!” 

“No!” Warren gasped. 

(Y/N) nodded, “The car was fine, but Jubilee had Jean drive home.” 

Warren snickered as he put the car in park and then turned it off. 

(Y/N) got out before Warren could open the door for her. He bit his lip in frustration. 

“Oh, the sun is so pretty!” (Y/N) cooed. “I love golden hour sometimes.”

 “I don’t… What?” Warren wasn’t too sure what golden hour was. Jubilee had mentioned it before, but he never asked what it meant. 

“Come here—” (Y/N) pulled out her phone and held it horizontally. “Get in the frame and smile!” 

Warren obliged, smiling and doing an awkward peace sign. (Y/N) grinned, also doing a peace sign, with her eyes closed and tongue poking out slightly. 

“Let me see how it turned out— Oh my god! We look amazing.” She was practically gleaming as she angled the phone towards Warren so he could see the photo. 

Warren smiled. 

“Want me to send this to you?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“There!” (Y/N) smiled. “I sent it.” Warren thanked her and they headed into Chili’s.  

He managed to open the door in time for (Y/N). 

“Oh…” Her eyes shifted to a slight violet hue, the nerves of is this a date or not? Coming back to her. “Thanks…” 

“You’re welcome.”  

The hostess greeted them and asked how many were in their party. 

“Two,” Warren responded. 

“Alright, follow me.” She grabbed two menus and had them follow her to a booth.

“Here you guys are. Your server will be with you soon.” 

“Oh my god, I’m really hungry…” (Y/N) unfolded her menu and buried her nose in it.

“Uh, me too…” Warren browsed his menu.

“Hi, I’m Ariana, I’ll be your server tonight! What can I get you guys started with to drink?”

“I’ll have a Coke Zero,” Warren told her.

“I’ll have a strawberry lemonade,” (Y/N) answered. 

“I’ll get those right out for you.” 

“Thanks!”

She walked off, leaving Warren and (Y/N) alone. 

“Do you know what you’re gonna get?” (Y/N) asked. She was eyeing the nachos and the chicken crispers.

“Uh… Not really…” Warren awkwardly admitted. “The fajitas look good, but that’s a lot of food.” 

“Yeah, they’re good though.” 

Their server came back with their drinks asking if they needed more time to look at the menu. She smiled and said she’d be back. 

“You’ve been here before, right?” (Y/N) asked Warren. She swore he had, but perhaps she was wrong.

“Once, with the guys. We were comforting Peter after another failed Tinder date. I think I got... nachos? I don’t remember.” 

(Y/N) chuckled to herself. “Peter needs to try another dating app.”

“He’s got like three.” 

“Oh, jeez— Jubilee almost downloaded tinder but she doesn’t need it.” 

Warren furrowed his brows, “Huh? Isn’t she into that one dude from Bayville? And Ororo?”

(Y/N) nodded and took a sip of her lemonade. 

Warren jokingly rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand her.” 

Ariana came back, asking if they were ready to order. 

“Yeah, um, I’ll have the nachos with chicken,” (Y/N) told her. 

“Nachos with chicken,” Ariana repeated. “And you?” She asked Warren.

“I’ll have the Santa Fe chicken salad.”

She wrote it down on a little notepad, “Santa Fe chicken salad. Alrighty! Those will be right out.” 

“Thanks.”

“Thank you.” 

(Y/N) took another sip of her lemonade, letting it fill the silence. 

Warren was suddenly very nervous. “Um…”  “You okay?... Is there something on my face? Do I have lipstick on my teeth?” (Y/N) started to worry. 

“You don’t have any lipstick on…” Warren stated a bit dumbfounded. 

“Oh…” 

“Um, anyway, I um— I like— I want, no. Um, is this— Is this a date?” 

“Um…” (Y/N) froze up for a moment. “You asked me out.” 

“Um, yeah, if you don’t want this to be a date, it like, isn’t then, you know? I mean, I didn’t really specify.”

“I kind of thought this was a date,” (Y/N) admitted.

Kind of… That’s good— Wait. Does she not want this to be a date?

“Do you want this to be a date?” Warren asked.

“Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t mind if it was, but like, we’re just friends so if you didn’t mean for it to be a date then that’s cool. Pretend I didn’t say anything.” 

(Y/N) avoided eye contact as she drank more lemonade, her eyes fully purple.   

“No, no! Um, I do want this to be a date. I um, I really, uh, I really like you.” Warren nervously confessed.

God, I hope I die here, right now, He silently pleaded. 

“Uh, yeah… I like you too… That’s kind of why I’ve been like, hanging out with you, alone, um, a lot…” 

“Me, um— me too.” Warren awkwardly took a sip of his soda. 

“Great.” 

“Great.”

“...”

“...” 

“Are— are we... dating?” Warren asked.

“Uh… I guess so?” (Y/N) wasn’t too sure how to respond, but when she saw Warren’s face fall slightly she quickly changed her words. 

“I mean, I think we are. I hope so. Um—”

“—We’re dating then?” Warren asked.

“We’re dating!” 

“Great!”

“Great!”

Soon as they figured it out, Ariana came in with their food. 

“Alright, I’ve got the Sante Fe chicken salad,” She set the plate in front of Warren. “And the nachos with chicken!” She set that plate in front of (Y/N). 

“Do you guys need anything else?” 

“I think we’re good for now,” Warren told her. “Thanks, though.” 

“Let me know if you need anything!” Ariana left the couple to eat their food. 

“Oh my gosh, yours looks really good,” (Y/N) commented.  

 “You can have some if you want,” Warren offered. 

“Oh, thanks!” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

The conversation died down a bit as Warren and (Y/N) focused on their food, but Warren was internally stressing.

I have no idea what boyfriends do. Am I doing a good job right now? What if she tells Jubilee and then Jubilee murders me because so far I’m a shitty boyfriend? 

Maybe I can hold her hand while we watch The Addams Family… How do I initiate that? What if she doesn’t want to hold my hand? 

Why do I want to hold her hand?... Warren almost visibly shuddered at the feeling of love. Ew… feelings…

Warren snapped back into reality for a moment, watching (Y/N) spill a piece of chicken into her lap. 

“Shoot!” 

Warren didn’t need his eyes to turn pink to show he was awestruck by her. She’s adorable… I’m so lucky to be her boyfriend…

—

Once they had finished, their server Ariana came back asking if they needed to-go boxes and if they wanted the check.

“Do you want it separate or together?” 

“Together,” Warren told her. (Y/N) furrowed her brows for a moment, eyes a bit orange, as Ariana left to go get the check. 

“I’m paying,” Warren stated nonchalantly as he got his card out. 

“Oh, okay.” 

Ariana came back with two to-go boxes and the check. 

Warren handed her his card and she walked away. 

(Y/N) started to put her leftover nachos in her box. Warren scooped his leftover salad into his to-go box. 

“Alright! Here’s your card and receipt,” Ariana handed those to Warren. “Do you guys need anything else?” 

“I think we’re good.” 

“Alright! Have a good night!” 

“You too!”

Warren was figuring out how much to tip. “Is like, $10 good?” 

“What?” (Y/N) asked.

“To tip…?” Warren awkwardly said.

“What’s the total?”

“Uh… $28.76.” 

“Warren, that’s like a 35% tip, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Warren shrugged. “Look, servers don’t get paid enough.” 

“You’re right.” 

Warren finished filling out his receipt, then he looked at (Y/N). “Are you ready to go?” 

“Yep! I’ll get the boxes.” (Y/N) picked hers up and reached over for Warren’s.

“No, I got it. I can carry them.” 

“No, I can carry them,” (Y/N) insisted. 

“I’m your boyfriend, let me carry them,” Warren insisted. 

(Y/N)’s heart did a flip at the fact he said, boyfriend. 

“... Fine…” She let Warren carry the to-go boxes. 

He also managed to open the door for her when they left. 

(Y/N) was still trying to process the fact they were dating. 

What’s the date? I should write it down. So I can remember for our first anniversary! 

Will we last that long?... I hope so… I really like Warren… Maybe I should tell him?

No… That’s kind of embarrassing…

“So…” (Y/N) trailed off.

“Yeah?” Warren asked, eyes on the road.

“I don’t know…” She admitted.

“Oh…” Things were starting to get awkward. Warren didn’t want things to be awkward. Awkwardness would ruin the relationship.

But Warren was bad at small talk. He was bad at socializing, period. And while he had improved, he still got nervous. He hated being nervous— scared. He didn’t want to come off as weak or vulnerable. 

But he didn’t want to come off as scary or cold-hearted either. 

It was a hard scale to balance. 

“Okay, I don’t want to be rude, but who taught you how to drive?” (Y/N) asked.

“Sean…?” Warren stated. 

(Y/N) face practically lit up in realization, “That explains a lot.”

”What do you mean?”

“You were taught how to drive by someone who originally learned how to drive on the other side of the road!”

“That— What does that have to do with my shitty parking?” Warren asked. “I drive on the “right side of the road”. 

(Y/N) laughed. 

“Look,” Warren explained. “If I’m bad at parking that’s on me. The lines caught me!” 

“Haha! Yeah.” (Y/N) laughed. “At least you don’t hit curbs like Jubilee.” 

Warren laughed, “Yeah!” 

“Come on— I want to get good seats!” Warren put the car in park and turned it off. (Y/N) and he both got out and walked towards the theatre. Along the way she (not-so) discreetly slipped her hand into Warren’s. He blushed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. (Y/N) did her best to not grin her face off. 

Warren had to let go of (Y/N)’s hand momentarily, so he could open the door, causing her to frown a bit and her eyes to go a bit grey. 

This is a crime! I don’t want to let go of his hand!

Warren slipped his hand back into (Y/N)’s once they were inside, and her eyes went back to their “normal” pink shade. 

Warren paid for their tickets and they picked out seats in the back row. They weren’t in the center, but sitting in the back row was best due to Warren’s wings. 

“Auditorium three is on your left!” The ticket ripper told them as she ripped their tickets in half and handed them back. 

“Thanks!... Do you want any snacks?” Warren asked (Y/N) as they passed the concession stand to auditorium three. 

“Nah, I’m not hungry,” (Y/N) said. “You?”

“No, not really.” 

They walked into auditorium three and looked around for their seats. 

“Wow, it’s really crowded,” Warren observed. He was a bit nervous, folding his wings back tightly as he could. 

“Yeah, it’s opening night,” (Y/N) reminded him. “Row G is up this way.”

He was used to the stares for the most part, but he hadn’t been exposed to many kids and soccer moms outside the mansion— not that there exactly were any soccer moms at Xavier’s. 

Luckily, Warren didn’t see anyone glare at him or (Y/N). They both got into their seats without any problem. Their seats were recliners, where if you moved the arm up, you could almost be on top of each other. 

Warren thought this would be perfect for him to maybe wrap his arm around (Y/N), but he was far too nervous. Their hands were still intertwined, which was good enough for him, but Warren was trying with all his might to not have his hand get sweaty. 

That would be so embarrassing…

Once they got situated, and the movie trailers began, (Y/N)’s eyes were focused on the screen. Warren glanced at her for a moment, once the lights dimmed, but his gaze quickly flickered to the screen as to not get caught.

“That movie looks good!” (Y/N) whispered into Warren’s ear. He nodded, not exactly sure what he should respond with. 

Halfway through the film, while Gomez was saying something stupidly romantic to Morticia, Warren did something risky.

Well, not necessarily risky, but if Jubilee or Scott caught him doing it, they’d tease him relentlessly.  

Warren yawned, not very loudly, and then stretched his arm out and over (Y/N)’s shoulders. He fiddled with a leave that dangled from her head. 

His heart was racing. Oh my god, she’s going to think I’m a weirdo. Why did I do that? Who even does the yawn and stretch move anymore? Literally no one!

(Y/N)’s heart started racing when she realized what he had done, Oh my god! Oh my god… This is happening! Oh my god! Just relax, (Y/N), just relax. Be cool. Warren’s cool… he’s being effortless at this “dating” thing… 

They were both too nervous to initiate any further and decided to get reabsorbed in the plot of the movie.

—

As the credits rolled and the lights came back on, Warren and (Y/N) gained space between them awkwardly pretending like nothing happened. 

(Y/N) filled the awkward silence by raving about the film. 

“I loved it! I thought it was so cool, you could see all the family members in the background and like, the backstory they gave them was really creative, and just oh my god the animation style was super neat too! I liked what they did with Ophelia’s design, even though she wasn’t in it very long.”

“Who’s Ophelia?” Warren asked. 

“So she’s Morticia’s sister— they look almost the same, except Morticia is goth and Ophelia is more like me. She has flowers growing on her head and stuff— she was in the background, you probably missed her.”

“That’s cool,” Warren mused. 

“Yeah, she was more in the TV show… What did you think of the movie?” 

“Oh! I thought it was really good! I liked it. The story really, like, reaches out to modern issues and stuff…” 

“Like how everyone was rude to the Addams family because they were gothic and a little different?” (Y/N) asked as she pushed open the door. 

“Yeah. I think if the Addams were real, they’d be mutants,” Warren said as they walked out on to the parking lot.   

“Oh definitely!” (Y/N) agreed. 

Warren smiled as he fished the car keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the car. 

(Y/N) and Warren both got in the car and put on their seat belts. Warren then backed out of the parking lot and made his way onto the main road to drive back to Xavier’s. 

“So uh… Are we gonna, like, tell our friends we’re dating?” (Y/N) asked.

Warren blinked. 

“Yeah? Did you— do you not want to?” Warren felt like he had just seen someone kick a puppy.

“No!— No, I do!” (Y/N) clarified.

Whew!

 “I just— I don’t know how I guess? Jubilee walked in on Jean and Scott making out in her room and then she told everyone and then Scott was all, like, super awkward about it, but then they admitted they were dating.”  

“Sounds stressful,” Warren decided. “We could just like, text the group chat?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged. “That works.”

 X-BABES

 (Y/N)

So… Warren and I dating

 Jubilee

Finally!

 Scott

^^lol. Congrats.

 Kurt

Weren’t you already dating?

 (Y/N)

No?...

 Kurt

…

……….

 (Y/N) laughed quietly to herself. 

“What’s up?” Warren asked.

“Kurt thought we were dating this whole time,” She explained.

“Oh… Oh?” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah.” 

“I didn’t— I didn’t tell him anything— that like, wasn’t true. I don’t know why he thought that—”

(Y/N) giggled. “Ren, it’s fine. We’ve shared a bed before— in your guys’ room no less— he’s gonna assume stuff.” 

“Still…” 

“Well, we’re dating now… So, it doesn’t really matter,” (Y/N) pointed out.

Warren couldn’t hide the blush on his face at the fact they were finally dating. He hoped it was too dark for (Y/N) to see it.

“Do I turn left here?” He asked.

“Yeah, then you turn into the gates.” 

Warren did so and drove around the X-Mansion, into the garage.   

“I’ll grab the food and put it in the fridge,” (Y/N) told Warren as he turned the car off. 

“Okay.” 

They both got out of the car— (Y/N) opening the back door to grab the white to-go boxes.

Warren followed her into the mansion. 

They stopped in the kitchen and (Y/N) set the boxes on the counter. “Do you see a sticky note or a pen or something? I need to mark these as ours.” 

“Uh…” Warren looked around the room before spotting a marker. “Here,” He handed it to (Y/N). She scribbled their names down and shoved the leftovers into the fridge.  

 “Now what do you wanna do?” (Y/N) asked Warren.

“Uh… we could um… like, go upstairs maybe?” 

“Do you want to?” She asked.

“I mean if you want to, yeah.” 

“Oh, um, okay.” 

Warren panicked a bit. “If you don’t we don’t have to. We can, like, just kind of chill and see what our friends are doing.” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” 

“Oh, okay.” Warren avoided awkward eye contact as they headed upstairs. 

“We could, um, go to my room…?” (Y/N) offered up. 

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” Warren was nervous. He wasn’t sure why— He had no reason to be. He’d been in (Y/N)’s room before. Alone. They’d also spent loads of time together alone doing “couple things” as Scott put it. 

So why was he nervous?

Warren didn’t have time to linger on the thought as he walked into (Y/N)’s room. 

It was a bit cluttered, but he wouldn’t consider it messy. With plants strewn everywhere— floor, walls, ceiling— and some books, posters, and other things you’d expect in (Y/N) and Ororo’s room. 

Ororo wasn’t there though.

“Um, I had a really fun time tonight,” (Y/N) said. Her back was facing Warren for a moment as she doted on a small potted plant. 

“Me too… um… what are you doing tomorrow?” 

“Uh, nothing? I mean Jubilee mentioned going to the skate park tomorrow to take pictures… but she didn’t really say when…” (Y/N) trailed off and turned around to face Warren. 

Their eyes met. (Y/N) stepped forward, towards him.

She glanced at his lips for a moment too long. 

Warren gulped. 

“Can I kiss you…?” (Y/N) murmured. 

Warren’s mouth gaped. “Uh, yeah.” 

(Y/N) leaned in to kiss him, her hands cupping his face. Their lips met. (Y/N) shifted her head a bit as her lips pressed onto his and kissed him. She hooked his bottom lip with her teeth, lightly biting it for a moment. Her hands grabbed the hair near the nape of his neck. 

Warren’s arms were wrapped around her waist, his hands resting on the small of her back. 

(Y/N)’s tongue snuck into his mouth, their lips still pressing together. Warren could feel her smiling. Warren had to break away, for a moment, and regain compulsion. 

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed grey for a split second. She didn’t want to stop. She had become ravenous for Warren’s lips, his tongue… for him in general. It wasn’t exactly a new feeling, but it was foreign, and she liked it.

She blinked. “Sorry, um, I didn’t mean— um, never mind.” 

Warren’s jaw was practically slack. He was speechless. He was not expecting that. At all.

“Warren?” (Y/N) asked. “Are you okay?” 

“What? Yeah, I’m fine!”Warren tried to seem chill.  “I’m fine.” 

“Oh… Well, um, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.” (Y/N) started to worry a bit, thinking maybe she went too far and he didn’t like it.

“I’m— I’m’ not uncomfortable— uh, far from it actually— um, it was, it was really nice, actually.” Warren hoped she wouldn’t look down. 

“Oh, okay. Good.”    

“Um, it’s kind of late—“ 

“—Yeah, definitely.” (Y/N) agreed. 

“You said you were going to… Ulta?... With Jubilee tomorrow?” Warren awkwardly asked.

(Y/N) nodded. 

“Um, I should probably go then… You don’t want to oversleep or anything…” Warren mentally scolded himself for being so awkward. He was usually better than that. 

“Oh, yeah… I’ll see you tomorrow though…” (Y/N) reminded him. “We live here…” 

“Right! Right…” 

“...”

“...” 

“I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight.” Warren quickly kissed (Y/N)’s cheek and headed out the door to his dorm. 

(Y/N) stood there, still processing what just happened. 

“Oh my god… Oh my god! OH MY GOD!” (Y/N) let out. 

She buried her face in her hands. “HOLY SHIT! I like— Oh my god! I did that. I kissed Warren with force and passion and with tongue!” She exclaimed. 

“I kissed my boyfriend with tongue. I cannot believe I did that! Oh my god!” 

Unbeknownst to her, Warren had heard most of her excited screams as he left her room. He was ecstatic by her enthusiasm. 

Warren went down the halls to the boys’ dormitory. Kurt wasn’t in their room, leaving Warren alone. He wanted to be alone. Alone with his thoughts for the first time in a long time. Warren wanted to lay in his bed and have the night’s events replay in his mind as he fell asleep. 

Warren was officially dating (Y/N). 

He didn’t have to assume things, dance on eggshells wondering if he was doing too much, he no longer had to wish he was her, and Warren didn’t have to admire her in secret. 

Warren wanted to text her, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He sighed, and slipped into some pajamas, and brushed his teeth, leaving his phone open. Hoping by some miracle (Y/N) would text first and he could spend the whole night overthinking what to say back. 

(Y/N) hadn’t texted him. 

Warren got under his sheets and settled into bed, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling. 

He grabbed his phone and decided to text her. 

Warren looked at the last thing (Y/N) had sent him. It was the golden hour selfie they took together in the Chili’s parking lot. 

Warren thought he looked rather silly, but he liked the photo nonetheless. He saved it to his camera roll and turned it into his lock screen background. 

Warren couldn’t take it any longer, despite it only being a few minutes, he decided to text (Y/N). 

 Warren

hi 

 (Y/N)

heyyy I thought u were going to bed *side eye emoji*

Warren

Couldn’t sleep

 (Y/N) 

ohhh

whatcha doing right now?

 Warren

Laying in bed. not much really

 (Y/N) 

lol, me too. I just finished spraying the ivy hanging above my bed and my air plant, Clark

 Warren’s heart swelled and he smiled at (Y/N) being so passionate about her plants. 

 Warren

Is that the one in the llama pot?

 (Y/N)

Yea! he’s grown a lot since I got him *bug-eye emoji*

 Warren

That’s good! :)

 (Y/N) 

Yeah!!! 

I hate to do this but I’m really tired, so I’m going to go to sleep

 Warren

That’s okay!! I’m going to watch some YouTube or something to fall asleep. 

 (Y/N)

Okay

Goodnight! *kissy-face emoji with closed eyes and blush* *smiling and blushing face with closed eyes with three hearts around it*

 Warren

*bug-eyed emoji* night, flower

 Warren set his phone off to the side and shifted to a more comfortable position before drifting off to sleep. 

[mermaidsneedwater]

christmas with you | epilogue

series page

tag list: @yup-indecisive-girl-cece

A Holly Jolly Christmas

3 YEARS LATER…

“I can’t believe Joey has finally brought someone home for Christmas!” Dorine cheered excitedly, bringing down the plates from the cupboard. “Oh to think, all my babies are going to be married soon…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll all always be home for Christmas though.” Tammy smiled, helping bring the plates to the table.

“How did they meet again?” You asked, coming into the kitchen and heading to the counter. Tossing the salad in the bowl, you listened for the answer to your question.

“College, but they reconnected recently.” Grace informed you.

“How sweet.” You grinned. “I’ve never seen Joey like this, he must really like her.”

“It’s definitely serious.” Grace agreed. “Joey dates around but he never brings anyone home.”

“Okay, we’re ready!” Dorine said. “Just bring the salad to the table when you’re done Y/N.”

Dorine, Tammy and Grace left the kitchen to gather the rest of the family at the dinner table.

“Joey and I laid the table.” You heard Mark announced from the other room. He walked into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and planting a kiss on your cheek. “Hi baby. How are you feeling?”

“I’m good.” You turned around to peck him, before laughing. “But you don’t have to keep asking me how I’m feeling, I’m only 12 weeks.”

“I know but I just want to make sure you’re not over exerting yourself. It’s bad for the baby!”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you handed him the salad bowl that was now tossed. “Okay, okay. Can you take this bowl to the table?”

“Of course.” He smiled, feeling very helpful. Mark took the bowl from your hands and walked away to the table.

You and Mark had agreed not to mention anything to the family until you were past the first trimester. However with Raymond and Grace offering you a drink every other hour it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hide.

Sighing, you closed the kitchen light and walked to the dining table where everyone had gathered. Upon seeing you, Mark jumped out of his seat and pulled your chair for you. Smiling, you heard Raymond tap his knife to his glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Hi everyone.” He started, smiling. “I’d like to make a little toast.”

Everyone slowly quieted down, eager to hear the speech.

“I want to thank god for the food and amazing people gathered tonight. And I want to welcome Abby, the newbie this year.” Raymond smiled. “I can’t tell you how much I love having everyone together for the holidays… so without further ado, let’s eat!”

The family cheered as they began to dig into the spread of food laid out on the table.

+++

“So Abby,” Mark spoke up. “How did my meathead brother convince you to spend Christmas with us?”

Flustered, you watched as Joey’s girlfriend looked at Mark. “Oh- uh I was just in town and he messaged to meet up and the rest is history.”

“Ah, I see.” Mark laughed. “He’s not as smooth as he thinks he is.”

Grace chuckled at her brother’s remark before turning to you. “Want some wine Y/N? I think mom just opened up a Cabernet.”

“Oh no thank you,” you declined politely. “I’m good for now.”

“Don’t give your baby brother a hard time Mark,” Tammy winked. “You’re going to scare Abby off.”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t run off already.” Mark teased.

“You’re so funny Mark.” Joey rolled his eyes. “Speaking of running off... Don’t you remember Christmas three years ago?”

You bit back a laugh as you watched Mark frown. He was rather sensitive about the situation.

“What happened?” Abby asked curiously.

“Oh you don’t know?” Tammy perked up. “It’s a Tuan family folktale.”

“What?”

“Oh please Tammy.” You laughed. “I’d hardly call it that.”

“It was pretty wild Y/N.” Grace chimed in.

You heard Kylie, Leila and Bailey from the end of the table “It’s really funny!”

“I’d call it straight out of a hallmark Christmas Movie.” Dorine laughed.

“Okay, now I really want to know. What happened three years ago?” Abby turned to Joey.

“Mom had called Mark up asking him about his Christmas plans and who he would be spending the holiday with.” Joey recounted. “At the time Mark was busy, but they cancelled his schedule. It was a fanmeet or something right?”

“A concert.” Mark corrected.

“Anyway, he panicked because he’d lied and said he was seeing someone. So he did what any normal person would do...”

“He admitted that he lied?” Abby suggested.

“Nope! He managed to convince Y/N to fly here and be his fake girlfriend for the holidays.”

“What?!” Abby’s eyes widened. She then turned to you, “is that true?”

“Unfortunately.” You looked at Mark with a small smile.

“So then what happened?” Abby turned back to Joey.

“Well then they actually started to fall for each other… which by the way no one knew. We all just saw them acting like a couple and thought it was for real.”

“Not all of us!” Tammy interjected. “I had a sneaking suspicion that something was up.”

“Yeah right Tammy.” Mark scoffed. “Nobody had any idea, that’s how great we were at acting.”

He held up a hand for you to high five which you did.

“No! Y/N, didn’t I pull you aside and tell you?” Tammy turned to you.

“You didn’t tell me that you thought we were faking it.” You replied. “Just that you thought Mark loved me.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “She did?!”

You nodded with a chuckle.

“Okay anyway can I finish the story?” Joey asked.

“Yes please continue.” Raymond spoke between bites of his food.

“So they were fake dating and then they fell in love for real? Wow…” Abby said.

“You think that’s dramatic? Then Y/N’s ex showed up at our door!” Joey narrated. “A little backtrack to the story, Y/N had only agreed to come with Mark because she’d just broken up with her fiancé.”

“Oh shit! So he showed up?” Abby said, turning to you. “Then what happened?”

“Mark let her go. He let her leave with her fiancé and told us that she had some family emergency.” He continued. “Pretty stupid if you ask me.”

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying, if you love something then you should let it free, because if it really loves you it’ll come back?” Mark asked.

“Yes. And it’s a dumb saying.” Joey replied.

Mark rolled his eyes, letting out a huff. “I just wanted Y/N to be happy and I thought that it meant being with him.”

“Whatever bro.” His younger brother laughed.

“So that was it? Y/N just left?” Abby asked her boyfriend.

“Well… I’m not too sure about the details after that.” Joey admitted.

“I’ll tell you. I dumped the jerk for the second time in the car ride to his hotel. Then I made him drop me off somewhere and I stayed at a dumpy motel until my flight.” You recounted. “I didn’t come back here because I thought your brother didn’t like me and wanted to get rid of me.”

“You thought that?” Mark asked sadly, grabbing your hand.

“What else was I supposed to think?” You laughed. “You walked me straight out of your house and into the car with him.”

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed your hand.

“So then after moping around for a few days, mom and dad asked him what had really happened and Mark had to come clean.” Joey told Abby.

“Oh wow…” Abby trailed off, thinking about the story.

“Yeah, Mark had to chase Y/N at the airport and catch her before she got on the flight back.”

“You chased her at the airport?! That’s so romantic.” Abby sighed.

“Well, it was romantic once the security guards let go of him.” You smiled. “They were really trying to drag him out of there. I was afraid they thought he was a hijacker or something.”

“I had to do whatever it took to get to you before you left.” Mark said. “Anyway it paid off didn’t it? Now we’re married and about to have a baby.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Mark.

“Y/N IS PREGNANT?!” Dorine yelled across the table.

“Oh shit.” Mark cursed, frantic. “We weren’t really telling anyone yet since it’s so early.”

You watched as Dorine’s eyes welled with tears of happiness.

“It’s okay Mark.” You reassured him, looking around the table and smiling. “But yes, I found out a few weeks ago.”

“Oh my goodness I’m so happy!” Dorine cried. She stood up from her seat and hugged you. “This is the best Christmas present ever!”

“So that’s why you weren’t drinking.” Grace mused. “I was wondering why my wine buddy wasn’t having a glass tonight.”

You laughed at Grace, “I’m sorry, I’m going to be out of commission for the next 7 months.”

Pouting, she raised her wine glass “To Y/N and Mark. Merry Christmas!”

“To Y/N and Mark. Merry Christmas!” The table echoed back.

I hope you guys enjoyed this epilogue! I originally hadn’t planned one but I just thought this was a cute way to catch with the Tuan’s and tie the story up.

[ransomedrogue]

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1 

kiss time! yesssss. well, except everything goes downhill from there

anyhow, this week’s scenes - aftermath of an eventful evening...

1.10 

Weller ushered his nephew up to his apartment, his physical body now inside the building but his mind still stuck out on the stoop. Images and emotions swirled together, with most of his consciousness locked on the memory of kissing Jane, while the rest of his brain did its best to fend off Sawyer's seemingly endless questions about what he'd seen.

"Why were you kissing her?"

"Isn't kissing kind of gross?"

"Was that your friend from when you and mom were kids?"

"Is she your girlfriend?"

Shit. He had to get that under control before they got back to the apartment and Sawyer outed him to Sarah.

But it was nearly impossible to get his thoughts in any sort of order at the moment, and Weller didn't want to outright lie to his nephew. Yet he also didn't want to face Sarah's scrutiny when he hadn't even had time to process what had just happened.

"Um, yeah, that was uh… Taylor. But she's not my girlfriend. So that was kind of a surprise," Weller finally replied, doing his best to focus his attention on the present.

"Oh. So she wants to be your girlfriend," Sawyer concluded.

His nephew was only nine but he'd pretty much nailed the question in the centre of Kurt's mind.

"Er. I don't know. We're going to have to talk about that," he said.

"You think we could not tell your mom about this until I figure that out?"

Sawyer gave him a blank look and for a moment Weller thought he was going to have to bribe the kid to keep him quiet. But then his nephew nodded sagely, and made a confession of his own.

"A girl in my class kissed me last year. I didn't tell mom either."

"She would have made a big deal about it."

Kurt grinned and ruffled Sawyer's hair. He figured that was a fairly normal thing for a boy that age to keep secret from his mom. And it certainly helped him out in the whole scheme of things.

"Yeah. That's kind of what I was thinking," Weller replied, with a breath of relief.

They entered the apartment and, true to his word, Sawyer ran off back to his favourite game without any mention of what he'd seen. Sarah was in the kitchen prepping things for dinner and barely looked up when they came in so Kurt started putting groceries away, hoping to hide the fact that he was in complete turmoil.

Weller was halfway through unloading the bag when he jolted, realizing suddenly that he'd just let Jane go off without her detail after giving her shit for sneaking out. For a full minute he stood there staring at a can of beans, stuck between running after her futilely and calling her right then, even though she most likely hadn't brought her phone on her illicit mission.

"Kurt?"

Shit. Busted.

He had no idea what Sarah had just asked him so Weller looked up blankly, trying to push the sudden panic out of his throat. His instinct was to sprint out the door and drive all her possible routes home but he had enough sense to resist immediately giving into his anxious impulses. Though mostly because he'd have to explain his behaviour to his sister, which could then easily lead to Sawyer spilling his secret.

"I asked if you wanted white rice or brown rice?"

"Oh. Brown please."

Weller finally put the can of beans down and tried to shake himself out of the moment. He forced back his emotions by repeatedly telling himself that Jane could take care of herself. Anyone that tried to attack her would regret their decision immediately. Also, he was already too late to catch up with her, so it would likely be a wild Jane chase that would require ditching dinner and lying about everything.

It took a lot of effort to turn his attention to cooking, but with Sarah insisting on helping him, Weller did his best to not let his mind drift. Yet still he constantly found himself lost in the memory of Jane's mouth coming up to meet his; how it felt, finally kissing her after desiring it for so long.

A huge part of him wanted to drive over to her safe house after dinner and experience that feeling again. Despite where that was likely to lead, including all the complications it would create. It had felt so right with Jane, more so than it ever had with anyone else. Which really wasn't surprising considering the way they'd fit together perfectly, right from the start.

Dinner was a complete blur but thankfully Sarah was questioning Sawyer about a school presentation due the next day so Kurt got away with fixating on what had happened and what he should do next. Jane had said she'd see him tomorrow and that was definitely the wisest course of action. Yet he absolutely could not stop thinking about her and waiting until the next day to see her again seemed torturous.

"Kurt?"

Dammit. Caught again.

He looked up blankly at Sarah, who was giving him a suspicious look. Sawyer, on the other hand, was grinning at him slyly.

"Sorry, I've been thinking about a case," he said, figuring it wasn't entirely a lie.

His sister was still eyeing him strangely but in the end she just shook her head at his inattention.

"Must be some case," she commented.

He couldn't quite tell if she suspected what was going on in his head but forced himself to swallow his instant defensiveness. He didn't need to give Sarah any more indication of where his mind had been during the meal.

"Yeah, sorry," Kurt repeated. "My head's not here right now. Why don't you guys go work on that project and I'll clean up dinner."

Again, Sarah flashed him a funny look but was, thankfully, more concerned about helping Sawyer practice his presentation than quizzing Kurt on his odd behaviour. He breathed a sigh of relief when they headed off and left him to deal with the dishes.

As soon as he was alone, Weller pulled out his phone and stared at it for a moment. He knew he should call first, before making any rash moves. Yet he didn't feel ready to address what had happened between them. Telling her the truth about his feelings seemed risky to the extreme. Even though she'd been the one on his doorstep initiating the kiss, it still didn't seem prudent to tell her that she had completely blown his mind.

He finally dialled her number, his heart pounding in his ears. And when the call went through to her voicemail, Weller felt more deflated than he should have been.

He'd really wanted to talk to her – partly to make sure she'd gotten home okay but mostly just to hear her voice. It was hard not to think that she was avoiding his call and didn't want to talk to him. Which was stupidly crushing despite everything that had happened between them that night.

Weller hung up after leaving a message and stared blankly out the window. Resisting the urge to dial again, he put the phone down and clenched his hands into fists. Going over to her safe house now would certainly get her detail gossiping about his late night visit.

Forcing back both his worry and his desire, Kurt decided the best course of action was to pour himself a drink. Sitting down at the couch, he sipped at his whiskey and tried to drown out all of his impulses.

He shouldn't drive over there, no matter how much he wanted to see her. So Weller forced himself to stay planted on his sofa, trying not to stare at his phone. Instead, he slugged back the rest of his shot and let his mind drift back to where it had been all night. At the memory of Jane's body, tight against his, and the taste of her mouth on his lips.

###

Jane crawled in the window of the safe house and immediately collapsed to the ground, shaking.

It was as if all the physical and mental shock hit her at once, as soon as she made it back inside. Her lungs still burned with the pain of aspirated water and she was unnaturally cold even though she'd run most of the way back and was finally almost dry.

Shivering on the floor, Jane curled up into herself like she had the first night of her new existence. It seemed absurd that she now wanted to return to that state of innocence, without a single memory or revelation about her past. After all that time and so much effort, it had turned out to be better not knowing anything at all.

Who the hell had she been? 

What kind of person would voluntarily choose to do this to herself?

While it was still possible that her former self had been forced to make that video and that none of it was true, Jane had an ominous sense that it was. Oscar's tattoo had gone a long way in making her believe his story and the video he'd shown her. They'd been engaged, presumably in love. She remembered feeling regretful when returning the ring, knowing that he would be upset with her decision.

Jane groaned, desperately wanting to believe that it was all a ruse. She'd already had so many doubts about her past, even before that night's mindblowing revelation. Now she hated the mere thought of who she had been. Especially as all the implications kept flooding through her.

She had done this, planned this all. Purposely involved Kurt in it for some reason, probably a nefarious one. Oscar had been short on details, yet had implied that her team was involved in something illegal. But the idea that Weller was anything but an honest FBI agent seemed completely insane.

God. Had it really only been hours since she'd kissed him?

It felt like a lifetime had passed, especially the time spent being waterboarded by Tom Carter. Jane shuddered again just at the memory of it; the terror of being unable to breathe, feeling like she was drowning. She noted again that she felt frozen despite finally being dry. Knowing that she needed to get warm, Jane tried to push her way off the floor. But it was as if all the trauma of being physically tortured then emotionally devastated had finally caught up to her and she was stuck in her position.

Images of the night kept flashing through her mind, like a frantic slideshow whirling out of control. Sitting on his doorstep, nervous but determined. Walking away from his place, lost in the memory of her lips against his. Being grabbed and thrown in a van before she even had a chance to react. Then the bag and the water and the drill. The gunshots. Oscar and the video.

Jane felt herself starting to hyperventilate as the cycle of images wouldn't stop; always culminating with that picture of herself, telling her that this was all her idea. Even the thought of betraying her team and being a mole was devastating. She owed them so much and trusted them completely. Especially Weller.

Weller.

A part of her still wanted to see him, even though the idea of telling him what had happened was unthinkable. Because, more than anything, Jane needed comfort at that moment and he was her only source for it. The thought of his warmth wrapped around her shaking body was almost inviting enough to push away the horror of the other thought, the one that had been plaguing her ever since she'd seen that video.

What if Weller found out that she was a terrible person, who'd plotted her way into his life? He would obviously despise her, even if she really was Taylor.

Jane moaned again, desperately wishing that it had all been a dream. There had certainly been an unreal quality to her night, yet her misery and self-hatred were entirely too real.

She was about to spin back into the same cycle of remorse and despair when a familiar noise finally broke through her consciousness. It was her cell phone, which she'd left at the safe house so her movements wouldn't be traceable.

A part of her registered that it was the middle of the night by now, so any call would likely be important. Yet still it seemed impossible to get up and answer the phone.

Eventually Jane waited long enough and the ringing stopped, but now that question was occupying a piece of her mind as well. Who was calling her so late? A part of her worried that it was Oscar, or someone else involved in the conspiracy she was tied to.

Trying to get her limbs back under control, Jane growled at her own weakness. The events of the evening had finally caught up to her, especially the stress her body had been put under. But she didn't have time to cry about it, or tremor alone on the floor. Especially if her phone was ringing at that hour.

As if in a trance, Jane found herself pushing herself onto her elbows first then onto her knees. After that, she somehow managed to get to her feet and stumbled towards the phone, feeling as if she wasn't inhabiting her own body. Everything seemed so unreal still; her entire world had collapsed to reveal something she'd never expected.

Jane finally got to her cell and saw that she had missed a number of calls from Weller. Just seeing his name on the screen made her heart clench with dismay. She couldn't talk to him; he would immediately know that something was wrong.

As she listened to her voicemails, Jane's roiling mind went into overdrive, trying to come up with a solution. If she didn't answer at all Weller was liable to show up at her door, despite the time - he certainly sounded concerned enough. Which would then lead to all sorts of complications she couldn't face at the moment.

It seemed to take forever before the obvious answer finally made its way through her anxiety. She could send him a text to let him know she was safe and put off talking to him until she'd had more time to recover.

Somehow Jane forced her fingers to operate the phone and managed to cobble together an excuse for not answering for so long. Even though she was still shaking, unable to get warm despite being dry and safe.

Sorry, out thinking, no phone. Home now. Talk to you tomorrow.

Goodnight. See you in the morning, Weller replied immediately.

Jane pictured him at home, up late worrying about her. The image, along with the text would normally have made her feel warm, though a little guilty too. Now, she could only think what he would say if he knew who she really was.

He'd hate me, she thought once more. 

As much as I hate myself.

Goodnight, Jane texted back, even though it was clear she wasn't going to be doing any sleeping. She could only hope that Weller would be able to get some rest, after keeping him up so late. As for herself, she had hours left to spend ruminating on what had happened and what she was going to do.

The images still wouldn't stop pouring through her mind, forcing her to relive her terror at being repeatedly drowned, then threatened with a drill, then shown that video. And yet there was that other memory too, that brought on a different sort of panic. Reaching up towards Kurt; seeking comfort in the warm sensation of his lips on her mouth, the feeling of his body right up against hers.

She wanted that, wanted him. But not if it was part of a plot. And definitely not if he was going to get hurt.

Jane realized that tears had started to slip down her cheeks and she didn't have the energy to push them back. Soon they were pouring out and and she didn't bother to try controlling them or even wiping them away. Curling up on the couch, Jane just kept sobbing until her lungs ached and daylight was peering through the blinds.

Opening her eyes and groaning at the light, Jane peeled herself off the sofa and stood in a burning hot shower, trying to wash the dirty feeling from her skin. Yet she didn't feel any more cleansed when she emerged from the water, nor had it lifted any of the heaviness in her soul.

Whatever had happened to her, it was obviously all her own fault. Now all she could do was protect everyone from the fallout of what she'd done. No matter what it took, she wasn't going to let any of them get hurt.

Whoever she'd been before the memory wipe, that wasn't who she was anymore. And this version of her wasn't going to let anyone hurt the people that she loved. Not even herself.

[kinda-just-chillin-here]

Greek Mythology and Julie & the Phantoms

My first watch through of Julie and the Phantoms (JATP), I noticed a few similarities and parallels to certain myths within Greek mythology. On my million rewatches, I paid more attention to see if there were others. This post is all my observations of the parallels, as well as a few possible theories for season 2 the writers could follow for certain storylines. This is a ridiculously long read, I apologize.

**Disclaimers: 

There are spoilers, so if you haven’t finished watching for the first time yet, don’t read this. 

The content in Greek myths can vary depending on the source. This is largely due to the fact they are just super old. So some of the myths might be slightly different. I did my best just to compare to the gist of the myth. 

I’m going to refer to Luke, Reggie, and Alex together as either Sunset Curve or the boys to save space. 

I apologize for any typos and mistakes; midterm season has left me with an empty head.

1. Orpheus

Obviously a major motif in the first season is the Orpheum. Orpheum literally means House of Orpheus. 

Background information of Orpheus:

His mother is Calliope (muse of epic poetry), and depending on the version of the story, his father is either Apollo (god of the sun, healing, music, medicine, archery, and poetry) or King Oeagrus of Thrace. 

Orpheus was considered to be one of the greatest musicians. He had a “divinely gifted voice that could charm anyone who heard it,” no god or mortal could resist his music. 

Let’s look at some of his myths.

Orpheus and Eurydice:

The basic summary of this myth is that Eurydice, Orpheus’ wife, died after being bitten by snakes while running away from a man, Aristaeus, or a satyr (depends on source) who wanted her for himself. Devastated, Orpheus began singing sad songs until he was advised by nymphs to go to the Underworld and bring her back. After singing to Hades and Persephone, they agreed to let Eurydice return to the main world. However, they warned him not to look back before they both entered the light of the surface. He happily began his trek back to the surface. When Orpheus reached the exit, Eurydice in toe, he turned around to see her, anxious to make sure it wasn’t a trick, that she was really there. Only, Eurydice was still in the Underworld, she hadn’t crossed over yet. Orpheus turning around when he did, caused Eurydice to remain in the underworld. 

So who’s who?

Julie = Orpheus (talented musician and desperate to save their love from the Underworld)

Sunset Curve = Eurydice (dead and trapped)

Caleb = Aristaeus and Hades (wants Eurydice/Sunset Curve for himself; controls the place the dead are) 

Hollywood Ghost Club (HGC) = The Underworld

How do they relate? Stand Tall (s1e09) is where it all goes down.

Like Aristaeus, Caleb is pursing Sunset Curve because he wants them for himself (and Caleb is also threaten by the power they have).

Caleb has the boys trapped in the HGC, just like Eurydice in the Underworld. 

Julie had to deal with the idea the boys died (again) when they didn’t show up before the performance. At first she couldn’t, she ran out until she had a sign from her mom, telling her to go on stage. You could argue this sort of parallels the nymphs telling Orpheus to plea to Hades, or that it parallels Orpheus on his journey back to the surface after Hades agreed.

This is where Julie and Orpheus differ. Julie goes onstage, fully believing in the sign from her mother; that even if the boys don’t come, she can do it. The lyrics of Stand Tall are pure genius. “Keep moving on, never look back.” That’s exactly what Julie does. Unlike Orpheus, Julie doesn’t look back. And the boys appear, no longer trapped by Caleb at the HGC. Julie breaks away from the Orpheus formula and wins. 

@multifandomterrors wrote an essay on how it relates too! She has three theories of how it fits and I definitely recommend you check it out!

Bonus reasons Julie is Orpheus:

Orpheus joined Jason and the Argonauts. When the ship was approaching the Sirens, Orpheus saves the crew from death by playing his own music, drowning out the Sirens’ Song. Likewise, Julie is able to save the boys from Caleb. You can argue that her singing Stand Tall acted as a beacon, beckoning the boys away from Caleb and back to her, saving them in the process.

This one is more of a long shot but oh well. Orpheus is said to have a “divinely gifted voice that could charm anyone who heard it,” that no god or mortal could resist his music. The boys say that Julie has “the voice of an angel.” Throughout the season, as soon as Julie starts to sing, people are generally drawn in, even Carrie by the end. 

Onto the next parallel...

2. Lotus Eaters

As soon as the slightest idea of the boys missing the dance was hinted at I knew it was going to happen because ~formulas~, but once they got to the HGC, I had a strong feeling it was going to be a Lotus Eaters situation. 

Summary of the Lotus Eaters:

In The Odyssey, Odysseus and his crew encounter the Lotus Eaters. They do as their name suggests, they eat the peculiar Lotus flower. When the lotus flower is eaten, those who eat it are “overcome with a blissful forgetfulness,” and want to do nothing more than stay where they are. The crew mates had to be dragged back to the ship, otherwise they never would have returned to their duties. The most well known adaptation of this is probably the Lotus Casino in Percy Jackson & the Olympians series, where the characters spend days/years there, only thinking it was a few hours/days. It’s a time warp per se. 

So what’s what?

Hollywood Ghost Club =  Lair/island of the lotus eaters (everyone there appears to have no other worries in life)

The music & dancing = Lotus flower (sucks everyone in)

How do they relate?

Once Caleb starts performing, Sunset Curve are sucked in. Eventually, they are overcome with a “blissful forgetfulness” and forget about Julie and the dance. They only get sucked back out once Caleb mentions it’s the witching hour.

Alex literally says “This place is some sort of time warp.”

When the boys try to leave, the dancers and then Caleb try to reel them back in. 

The next is not directly Greek mythology, but distantly related:

3. Disney’s Hercules 

The story in Disney’s Hercules isn’t exactly what the myths of Heracles are. It’s Disney, so of course the stories are romanticized and changed significantly. First of all, in the original myths, Hercules is really named Heracles, and Megara is nothing more than Heracles’ wife that ends with a tragic story.

In the movie, Hades wants Hercules dead since he is the only one that can ruin his plan to take over the world. He enlists Megara (or Meg, whose soul he owns) to get to know him and find his weakness. As Meg gets to know Hercules, they fall in love. Hades uses this as Hercules’ weakness, and once he outs Meg for working for him, Hercules is emotionally defeated. However, he still gives up his power for 24 hours, as long as Meg remains untouched by harm. Of course that doesn’t happen, and Meg dies while saving Hercules. Her soul is returned to the Underworld, and Hercules journeys down there to save her, even though he might die doing so. Except he doesn’t; he saves Meg, and it’s happily ever after. 

So who’s who?

Alex = Hercules

Willie = Meg

Caleb = Hades

How does it relate?

Like Hades wants Hercules dead, Caleb wants Alex (and the boys) under his control because they are too powerful. He’s threatened by them.

Even though Willie didn’t mean to bring the boys into the mess with Caleb, he still did (no hate, I love my son). Willie acts as Meg in this situation because Caleb still uses him to get to the boys. Caleb gets to put his stamp on them.

Willie, just like Meg, decides to not help Caleb anymore, though he’s still stuck. He cares about Alex, he doesn’t want him to be stuck at the HGC like him forever; he doesn’t want Caleb to own Alex’s soul. So, Willie helps Alex and the boys with their plan to crossover. 

In Stand Tall, right before You’ve Got Nothing to Lose, Caleb appeals to each of the boys’ weakness. Caleb says “Everything you want, including Willie, is right here.” Just like Hades uses Meg against Hercules, Caleb uses Willie against Alex.

Potential Season 2 Willex Storyline

The parallel to Hercules and Meg isn’t finished. Alex hasn’t saved Willie from Caleb yet, and Caleb hasn’t been defeated yet. We don’t see Willie after the Willex hug in Stand Tall. I think it’s safe to assume that Willie is not safe from Caleb, especially since he helped Sunset Curve escape Caleb’s curse. There’s a lot of things that could happen. One of my assumptions is that Caleb is going to use Willie as bait to lure Alex back in. Another is that, like how Hercules goes to the Underworld to save Meg’s soul,  Alex is going to actively choose to return to the HGC to try to save Willie from Caleb. 

And the last parallel to Greek mythology in season 1...

4. Cheyenne Jackson

He plays Hades in Descendants 3, a Disney movie, meaning he’s the same Hades as in Hercules. 

Caleb Covington, you could argue is the “king of the dead” in JATP

That’s it, that’s the parallel.

Possible Season 2 Storylines

Cephalus and Procris (I’m not as familiar with this myth, but it basically goes like this)

Cephalus and Procris are happily married and very in love with each other. One day, the goddess of dawn, Eos, kidnaps Cephalus because she wants him to herself. Depending on the version you read, Cephalus either sleeps with Eos, or he doesn’t, but regardless, his only concern is how much he loves his wife, Procris. Eos finds that annoying, and plants the idea in his head that Procris is cheating on him when she releases him eight years later. Cephalus returns to Procris, disguised as another man, to see if she would remain faithful. A disguised Cephalus continuously brings Procris presents, and slowly, Procris is swayed by the mysterious man. When Cephalus reveals himself, Procris runs away, ashamed, and joins Artemis’ hunt. Eos wins essentially. She get’s Cephalus... until Procris returns, trying to make amends with her husband. He takes her back, but not long after Procris hears rumors that Cephalus has been unfaithful. She follows him on a hunt, hiding behind a bush. Cephalus hears a bush move, and thinking it’s an animal, he shoots, killing Procris. In the end, Eos still wins as Procris is no longer in the picture, and she could theoretically be with him. Expect Cephalus exiles himself and Eos is never seen again.

How could this apply to JATP season 2?

Julie = Procris

Luke = Cephalus

Caleb = Eos

Caleb-Possessed-Nick = Disguised man

Since Caleb possessed Nick at the end, I assume his plan is to get Julie to pick Nick, thus pushing Luke away from her. Caleb wants Luke and the boys to himself, and as long as Julie is in the picture, that won’t happen. As Caleb-Possessed-Nick tries to flirt and get closer to Julie, Luke will see this and get jealous. His jealousness could lead to tensions between Julie and Luke, making the band a bit awkward, maybe even a big fight that pushes Luke to think about joining Caleb, or at least isolating himself where Caleb would have easy access. I think it would be a very loosely applied parallel, but the idea of Caleb working to cause a rift between Luke and Julie to get Luke by himself is a major possibility. Regardless, Caleb-Possessed-Nick is going to get in the way of Luke and Julie’s slow burn pining for each other. 

A General Thought Not Related to Greek Mythology 

Regardless of what the writers end up doing, I think Caleb’s best plan would be to target the boys individually; like the continuance of the Hercules parallel with Willex and potential Cephalus & Procris parallel with Juke. I don’t know how he would isolate Reggie, maybe something with his family, but targeting the boys one-on-one would be the most strategic move for Caleb. He could even get super manipulative with it. He could say something like “Alex already agreed” or something along those lines to try to persuade the boy he is talking to. 

Additionally, I don’t have any theories on where Carrie and Julie’s relationship may go, but i’m looking forward to a Carrie redemption arc. As far as where Bobby fits in, I read someone’s theory that Caleb may approach him, offering to help keep his reputation as Trevor Wilson, if he helps deal with the boys somehow. I’m sure there’s a potential greek myth that fits a potential Bobby and the boys storyline, but out of the ones I can think of right now, there aren’t. Betrayal is a huge theme in greek mythology though.

Anyway...

While the original target audience was kids and the show probably wasn’t meant to be this deep, as a screenwriter myself, I find it super useful (and fun) to parallel classic stories and myths when I write. It can add a sense of nuance to the story, especially when done right. I hope the writers (assuming at least the Orpheus and Lotus Eaters parallels were intentional) continue to parallel the season with some form of myth or classic story, only to then completely flip the ending. 

If you actually took the time to read ALL of this, my god, I applaud you, you amazing human. Thank you so much for reading it. I’d love to hear what y’all think or what theories y’all have as well!

[bobohunn]

The 56th Street

Title : 56th Street

Pair : baekhyun x reader, baekhyun x you

Genre : angst, fluff, one shot

Warnings : language, and mentions of stalking, divorce and non consensual taking of pictures (not between pair)

Word count : 3k

Note : Italicized words are character/reader’s thoughts; indented (blockquote) and italicized paragraphs are flashbacks.

xx

“Are you busy right now?” a husky voice found its way to your ear from the other side of the line.

“No. Thank god,” you mumbled before letting a deep sigh leave your lips.

After ages, you finally heard your favorite sound on earth again.

It was the sound that went a little too high while singing along to Queen and Michael Jackson songs that played on the radio in your room while you did homework at 3 pm. The one that rang loud throughout the whole house while you danced to random and silly steps on the stage that is your bed at 3 am.

It was the same sound that went two octaves lower when you teased him too much about the little crush he seemed to harbor for the girl who sat beside him in 11th grade or when you asked him for one of his friend’s number. One that carried sweet nothings with it to your blushing ears the first time you got drunk on your birthday.

It was the very same sound that was once your refuge and salvation. The very same that calmed the erratic beating of your heart when you were nervous. One that chased your tears to crawl back up and hide in the corners of your round eyes when life enveloped you into darkness.

The voice you’ve been longing for more frequently these days.  

Your best friend’s voice.

He chuckled, his low register ringing through your eardrums. “Are you at home?” 

“No, but I’m walking home,” you say almost too softly, trying not to sound too excited.

There was a long period of silence. If you didn’t know Baekhyun enough, you would have already ended the call at the lack of response. However, you knew him way too well to see (hear) that he was still thinking about what he would say. So you just continued walking on your path slowly, occasionally looking over your shoulders in case you were blocking somebody’s way.

“You’re walking on that street again, aren’t you?” He hummed before asking in a very knowing tone. It took you a moment to process his question, so when you were about to defend yourself, Baekhyun had already started his nagging, “I told you not to take that street when I’m not with you!”

You smiled a bit at the realization that although you didn’t even answer yet, he already knew the truth. And your smile grew more prominent at the thought that he still knows you better than anyone.

The only person you wanted to remember you still knows you like you were the back of his hand. And you‘re not anywhere near remarkable for anyone— or even just for him at least, to remember you. Isn’t that an achievement for you?

Snorting out a laugh, you said, “Sorry, Baek. It’s the fastest way home.”

No. Actually, it’s the street that reminds me of you most.

It was the quietest street in your town, 56th street, both your favorite route to take. It was the street that held a huge part of your memories together with him and had all the little moments that piled up into ones you’ll treasure forever. The road that witnessed both of you grow from the innocent little boy and girl you once were to the lovely man and woman you both are today.

It’s the street that reminded you of when you first heard him laugh,

“Since we’re neighbors, and I’m new here, can’t you show me around the town?” the little boy said as he lifted his hands to his neck to scratch at the skin right below his jaw, making you stare at them in awe.

You snapped yourself out of your short trance and said blankly, “The only places I know are my house and the school.”

As cliché as it may sound, everything around you moved in slow motion as the side of the boy’s lips rose to his tinted cheeks. His eyes turned upside down, and his eyebrows raised. He laughed lightly before asking, “Then, should we see where this street ends?”

Of when you first saw him pout,

“Baekhyun, no. We have to go home,” you said as you continued on your track without looking back at him. He went silent, and a smirk crept up your face.

However, it grew too suspiciously silent. So you stopped walking and turned your head back, only to find a sulking Baekhyun. His hands were in his pockets, eyebrows knit together, cheeks puffed out, and his lower lip pouty. He slowly looked back up at you with his puppy eyes that always won you over.

“Oh my god, don’t give me that look. You’re making my head hurt.”

He moved closer to you and grabbed one of your hands, “I’ll stay over at yours for dinner so your mom won’t scold you for too long. Just please come with me to the supermarket. I’m really craving ice cream,” he said with his eyes quivering from left to right.

He’s onto something. “What do you have up in your sleeve, Mr. Byun? Tell me, or I’m not going with you,” you said as you narrowed your eyes at him.

He looked away from you and landed his gaze towards the ground again, “Y-you, I heard y-you crying in your room last night. I just want to buy you ice cream to cheer you up because I won’t be able to sleep knowing I hadn’t done anything for you before this day ended.”

When you first heard him curse and get mad,

“Excuse me, Dude. But what are those photos for?” you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Recognizing it as Baekhyun, you quickly looked over your shoulder to greet your friend.

“A-ah i-it’s just for documentation purposes for our group study,” stuttered the other guy whose back was turned to you.

You called out Baekhyun’s name, confused about the current situation laid in front of you. Your friend only raised his head to you and motioned for you to come to him, “do you know this guy?”

You approach the two men, curious as to who the other person is. When you caught a glimpse of the unfamiliar face, you slowly shook your head no. “I don’t think so. Do I have to?”

Baekhyun clicked his tongue and clenched his jaw. He sneered a little and turned his head to the side, making you more confused.

“The next time you make a fucking excuse, make sure it’s not as stupid as you look. Stop being a fucking pervert, you fucking stalking asshole.”

And of when you first heard him cry.

“Oh my god, Baekhyun, what happened?” you said as you brought the taller man’s head to your shoulder. You tried to rub his back and smooth out the creases of his school uniform, but he just started wailing more.

He was leaning into you, and you couldn’t take his weight anymore, so you guided him to sit down on the sidewalk. You tried to pull away from him, but he planted his face deeper into your neck, so you just hugged him tighter and drew unnamed patterns on his arms.

When his sobbing finally toned down, you tugged at his chin and made him look up at you. The redness of his nose, along with the tears in and around his eyes, made your heart hurt. Who on earth would try to make this man cry?

“You’re not telling me what happened?” you whispered as you wiped the tears that continued to drop down his cheeks.

“My mom wants to divorce my dad.”

You heard a small huff from his end, making you chuckle loud enough for him to hear.

You tilted your head to your side and pictured how he would have looked if he were actually walking with you today. Would he have had his hair down or gelled back? Would he have worn the oversized hoodies you told him were your favorite on him? Would he have walked in all his glory on the sidewalk in his new Js? Would he have looked at you with loving eyes, like he did back then?

“Still! Didn’t I tell you that I’d be mad and not call you if you walked there alone? That street is so quiet and far from people. It’s too dangerous!” he whined again.

A bitter taste started to spread in your mouth. You took a deep breath of the crisp air, “Yeah. I know it’s dangerous.”

Dangerously silent and lonely without you.

“Do you remember? That time when I told you to go home without me because I had fun playing football with my classmates?” he paused for you to answer, but he knows that you remember it anyway.

Yeah, when I almost cried, thinking you didn’t want to hang out with me anymore?

He laughed, “I think I hit my head somewhere that time, and I realized that I wanted to walk home with you. So I ran to catch up with you, but then I saw a guy taking pictures of you from the back.” You chuckled a little at how fast his tone changed from happy to angered towards the end.

You added in, “And you cursed him with all your heart, and I had to drag your boiling ass home or else you would have had a swollen hand.”

And when I thought my heart would explode, seeing you all worked up and protective of me.

You stopped walking and recalled how it exactly happened, where you exactly were, and what you exactly felt. While reminiscing, you could almost see the image of your younger self pulling the younger Baekhyun, who couldn’t take his eyes off the stranger who stalked you, pass by in front of your eyes.

“Yup. I decided to walk home with you every day since then. But now that I can’t, I made you promise not to walk 56th street, didn’t I?” Baekhyun said in a sing-song tone.

“Sorry,”

“I’ll let it go this time. But next time I really won’t call you for three months! Or even six months!” He taunted.

Even if I kept my promise and never walked on the same street again, when the time comes, you’d probably stop calling me.

“How are you?”

“I’m okay here. Training is getting hard, though. But I bet you five tubs of ice cream that I’m gonna be on national TV in 3 months!”

I need not bet because I know you’ll make it. It’s your lifelong dream, after all.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N]!” Baekhyun beamed from your porch as he took off his shoes. You watched him with confused eyes from the couch of your father’s living room.

“What?”

He quickly approached you and pulled you up from your seat, “it’s time for us to take a walk. Long since we’ve done it, no?”

You and Baekhyun took your precious time to walk. One whole step before the other, as if scared that the sidewalk would run out if you walk faster.

You didn’t really say anything to each other, but the sound of the spring birds singing and your soles rubbing against the bricks on the sidewalk made you both feel entertained.

With longer legs and bigger feet, Baekhyun was walking slightly ahead of you. Having to catch up with his steps, you walked faster, eager to walk side by side with him. But he noticed that you were trying so hard to keep up with him, so he tried to make his steps smaller. Then, he moved closer to you until your hips touched each other.

It was always like this with Baekhyun. You’d take a walk together on 56th street without saying anything, and you’d still enjoy it. He would always end up walking ahead of you, and you would ever walk behind him. Then, when he notices that he’s walking too fast for you, he would start taking smaller steps so you could keep up with him. And when he thinks he’s walking slow enough to match your pace, he would close the gap between your bodies by putting an arm around your shoulders or waist or just by feeling your sides against his.

“I li-“

“I’m leaving,” Baekhyun started, cutting off what you wanted to say.

“What?” Your voice came out shaky, unsure of what you heard.

Baekhyun stopped walking, “I said I’m leaving. I’m leaving for the city.”

You blinked your eyes twice. Stiff as you were, you tried to open your mouth to say something which you couldn’t seem to remember anymore. Baekhyun giggled at how you looked.

“I’m gonna be an idol, [y/n]. I’m going to be a singer.” he said as his eyes twinkled with joy.

How? Where? When? Why? You wanted to ask him, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to move even a muscle except for your eyes.

“A company scouted me at graduation. They said I had the potential to be a singer. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure, but now I am.” He said while looking up at the cloudless sky.

You didn’t know how it happened, but you only managed to speak out the words, “I’m happy for you, Baekhyun.”

You didn’t see Baekhyun the week after that walk because he was busy packing, and you were busy denying to yourself that he was leaving. So when you saw him from your window pushing boxes unto the trunk of his parents’ SUV with his hair white as snow, you couldn’t help but jump out from where you were standing.

You accidentally pushed your windowpane in an attempt to save your face from kissing the wooden floor, and it made a noise loud enough for Baekhyun to look up at your room. He waved up at you and motioned for you to meet him outside.

“Are you leaving today?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I wasn’t able to tell you,” Baekhyun said as he scratched the skin under his ear. He always did this when he was in an awkward situation.

You stared at him without speaking. You took in how he looked for the last time. But you realized that it was too much for you. He was too much for you. So you focused on his now white hair that rested against his scalp, seemingly tired from the process of bleaching.

Baekhyun only smiled at you like a child that was offered candies and delight. You moved closer to him, eyes exploring his face and stopping at his lips for a few seconds before losing confidence again.

His name softly left your lips, to which he only hummed in response.

“I,” you paused for a moment, maybe two? or three. You don’t know.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline.

“I like your hair.” you said with a smile.

“Don’t I look like a real celebrity now?” he said as he let his fingers run through his locks.

“You do,” he always did.

You let yet another chuckle escape your mouth, although the last thing you wanted to do was laugh. “I’m still your best friend, right?” you questioned, though you were scared he’d say no.

However, you heard a different voice from his end of the call shout, “Baekhyun! 10-minute break is over!” and your friend responded with something you couldn’t catch. All that you knew was that he was laughing with someone, their voices slowly fading as if they were walking away from the phone.

He’s happier now. Even happier than when he was with me.

You used to associate his laugh with flowers, candies, love, and everything sweet. But now you can’t help but feel bitterness crawl up your spine, like a vine climbing its way up the walls and lampposts.

The cold and long blow of the wind made you feel nostalgic (if you weren’t yet), and you wanted as much to let it take you to wherever your heart is, where Baekhyun is.

“I have to go [y/n]! I’ll call you again soon!” he quickly said before a long beep was heard, announcing the end of the call.

Months passed, and you are still waiting for when his name flashes as the caller ID on the screen of your phone. Maybe he’s busy? Or he lost my number? Perhaps he changed his phone?

You wanted to ask his parents for his new number or even just how their son was doing. But you were surprised to find out that they already moved out of the house next to yours, when you returned from your grandparents’ house for a 3-week vacation. You wanted to ask your parents if they had his parents’ number, but then you decided that seeing him on TV and your phone screen was enough for you.

He’s clearly doing well.

He has got to be doing well. How could he not when he has been flashing the cameras the widest and prettiest smiles? The kind of smiles you never witnessed when he was with you.

He’s clearly happier than ever.

Although you kept saying that you were happy for him too, you just can’t deny that you do feel jealous of how far he had come. It was just like the long and silent walks you took with him throughout 56th street before: he was always steps ahead of you, and you were burning in jealousy behind him because of the advances his relatively longer legs brought him. Except that he was miles and dreams ahead of you now, and he couldn’t slow down his pace to match yours and stay by your side anymore.

He’s way too far ahead to turn and run back to me.

He’s probably living a better life.

He probably has funnier (best) friends to laugh with.

He probably has prettier eyes to stare at, softer hands to hold, and more comfortable shoulders to lean on.

He probably has a new favorite street to walk with somebody new. Somebody who’s better, somebody who’s not you.

And you started to accept that little by little.

You had started to move on.

You started to forget.

You finally let go.

But you kept the promise you made him.

You never walked 56th street again,

because he’s not there with you anymore.

—