#PLEASE LET THERE BE SOME REALITY IN ALL OF THIS AND NOT HAVE A 52-WEEK PREGNANCY. THANKS WRITERS AND NETWORK

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Candy Coated [Chapter One] Even in Death [Buddha]

A/n: this is the first chapter of the Buddha (ROR) story that I’ve been mentioning for a week or so now. It was inspired by the one-shot that I wrote ‘Lost in Paradise’, and this story basically follows the same idea. 

I waited to post this chapter until the poll went down, which asked about the gender or lack of gender of the Mortal Reader. 65% of 52 voters voted for the reader to be a female and 35% voted for the reader to be gender neutral. I have the screenshot in case anyone wants to see it, though to be honest, I did my best not the mention the gender of the reader at all unless I need to. So, with the voting done, the reader will be female. Thank you for the support and for the votes.

There is a tag list below; if you would like to be added to it in order to keep up with the story when I post chapter, please let me know so I can add you. I plan to update this story as often as possible with two other stories I’m working on, so please be patient. Read the warning tags and enjoy.     

Words: 2,139

Tag list: @tojibreedingme​, @quinloki, @yingxian, @2lottie2

Warning(s): soulmate au, reader insert, mentions of death, female reader.

No Minors Allowed!!

Fear devours you, tightening your muscles in a way that leaves you powerless and frozen.

You honestly don't remember much; the siren woke you, but it was far too late to evacuate. The storm had been far worse than the news had reported; it had become a category 5 before anyone even knew what was happening. You had tried to shelter yourself indoors as the powerful winds rampaged outside, but it wasn’t enough and the walls came tumbling down.

But somehow you had wound up outside, sitting amongst the wreckage.

This can’t be right. It's silent; the entire world around you. It's almost like the noise had been drained. You can’t hear the wind screaming in your ears or the houses as they are torn asunder. In a way, it’s peaceful, but the silence is also frightening. Especially with your body lying meters away from you, caught beneath the rubble of your cheap apartment.

Why are you looking at yourself?

"This is terrible," a sincere voice utters.

You avert your attention in the direction of the noise, drawn like a moth to a flame, and see a teenage girl with short lilac hair standing in the middle of the road; her aqua-green eyes are filled with tears as she stares out at the chaos.

"The Gods have no mercy," she mentions. "There are so many souls here."

What is she talking about? You raise a curious brow, glancing at your body once again. The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks and tears gather in your eyes.

"I'm dead."

The sound of footsteps brings your attention back to the teenage girl to see her approaching you. If you are dead, is she some sort of reaper? You dart to your feet and take a cautious step away from her, but she raises her hands in defense.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I was sent to help."

"How?" You ask in disbelief, motioning toward your body. "I'm dead. How can you help me?"

She narrows her eyes in sympathy.

"I can take you to the afterlife where you can move on. I'm sorry, but there isn't much else I can do for you."

So, she is a reaper. She doesn't look scary at all, but this doesn't mean that you trust her; a point you emphasize by peddling back as she takes a cautious step forward.

"My name is Göll. I'm a Valkyrie; a demigod. Um... you know, like––"

"I know what a Valkyrie is," you mention. "It's the 21st century."

What you don't understand is what a Valkyrie is doing here. Are they not mere legends? They are specific to Norse mythology, or so you had thought. Realizing that she has been prattling on the entire time about something you haven't been listening to, you raise a hand and stop her.

"So, you came to take me to heaven... or Valhalla–– whatever you want to call it." You ask.

Göll nods.

"Well, not just me. My sisters came here too." She takes a brief look around and frowns. "This was a tragedy. There are more souls here than I can handle on my own."

How many had died? You widen your eyes, a motion that doesn't go unnoticed by Göll.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to bum you out." Her eyes fill with tears. "I'm terrible at this."

You can't help but snort. She is an animated person. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you glance at your body once again in sadness. Göll is right; it's time to move on. As much as it pains you, it's time to leave your life on Earth. Warm tears gather in your eyes, but you blink them away and saunter toward her. Göll notices and smiles.

"There's no need to worry. I'll guide you."

She offers her hand to you, but once you take it, a strange sensation overcomes you. Something tightens simultaneously around your ankles and before your eyes, a red cord appears, flickering in and out like a light. Göll squeals in alarm.

"W-what is that?" She asks.

"You don't know? I thought you were a Valkyrie."

Leaning down, you snatch fearfully at the cord, seeing that it's transparent. What is this? It almost looks like a red string of fate. But how can this be? It's in the wrong area.

When it doesn't seem to be hurting you, besides giving you a major craving for sweets, you calm down, though your heart is pounding. It's impossible to tell where the cord is leading; it twists and coils through the rubble like a snake, going further than you can see.

"What do I do?" Göll asks out loud.

She taps her green high-top sneaker on the ground and groans.

"I'll have to take you to my oldest sister. She'll know what to do."

Grasping your shoulder, a blinding bright light surrounds you. For a moment, you fear being trapped in the light, but quickly it fades. You drop to your knees and rub at your eyes.

"Warning next time."

Göll apologies.

"I'm sorry. Please wait here, I'll be back."

You hear her sneakers squeak on the floor as she rushes away, leaving you alone. With your eyes clear, you glance around to see that you are in a bare room no bigger than a bedroom; there's honestly nothing in it. Where did the Valkyrie take you?

Standing with a grunt, you saunter toward the door, checking to see whether it will open or not. It isn't locked, so you know that you aren't a prisoner. A long marble corridor stretches out on either side of you, but as far as you can tell there is no one around. You take an uneasy breath, shutting the door. Göll had asked you to remain in the room, so you plan to do just that. You aren't certain, but a part of you wants to believe that she is going to do you no harm; she seems nice enough, and a nervous wreck perhaps.

It was nice of her to try and comfort you. Though you reckon it's her job to show sympathy toward lost souls. You feel no less grateful to her. It had been a shock to see your body lying in the dirt; the lifeless look in your eyes nearly shattered you.

And then there is this.

You lift your right leg and watch the red cord flicker in and out. It's a tether; it can't be anything else. But who is on the other end?

And what does this mean for me?

The door comes open with a sudden low click and in saunters Göll and a beautiful woman wearing an elegant white dress with gold and navy detailing. Her piercing eyes observe you in a way that makes you uneasy like you are on the receiving end of a judgmental interview.

"Lift your leg."

Can she not ask nicely? Her tone is demanding, but you can hear the interest in it. Hesitantly you bend your knee and watch as she leans down to have a look; a section of her midnight blue hair falls over her shoulder as she does.

"What does it mean?" Göll asks.

The older Valkyrie stands and hums.

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"Y-you don't?" Göll questions with a squeak.

A deep sigh comes from her sister as she closes her emerald eyes in thought.

"Calm down. I know that it's a God Tether... But for whatever reason this soul has it I don't know."

"This soul has a name," you mention giving it. "You can talk to me. It's a fate string, isn't it?"

She hums.

"It's known as a God Tether here but means the same I imagine as your interpretation of it."

"But do souls have tethers?" You ask.

The woman shakes her head.

"I've never heard of a soul possessing a tether; it's for the living. Is this the first time you've seen it?"

You're certain this is the first time. You nod.

"Very well," she utters. "This warrants an investigation. Come with me."

Raising a brow in question, you watch her turn and saunter toward the door; the feather train hemmed into the inside of her dress slides across the floor as she walks. You glance at Göll a moment in uncertainty, humming as she nods to assure you that it's fine.

As you step out into the corridor, the smooth-tongued woman turns to you.

"What sort of living arrangement suits you?"

You raise a brow in question, having been put on the spot. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

"Um... I guess comfortable and simple, but honestly anything will do."

"Göll, have someone prepare this room," she orders.

Tensing, the expressive teen nods and rushes off leaving you with her. You avert your eyes at her in question.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Brunhilde; the eldest of the Valkyrie sisters," she answers with a grin. "Now come this way."

Following her, you survey the area. There isn't much to look at as far as you can tell. The walls are decorated in elegant gold trim and some of the rooms you pass are locked with electronic keypads which is strange to you, as they appear technological; far too 20th century for a 12th-century Valkyrie to have. Did they advance with the times? Perhaps they've always had this technology and mankind just took its time.

"How many Valkyries are there? I recall reading that the number is uncertain."

Brunhilde peeks over her shoulder at you for a moment, then averts her attention to the path ahead.

"There are 13 of us."

That's a lot less than you had expected. Upon meeting Göll you had known that things were not exactly as the history books had written them to be. The question of how much intrigues you.

"And you guide souls from every corner of the Earth?" You ask.

"The human realm is known as Midgard and the God realm in which you reside is known as Valhalla, or as you know it, Heaven. Gods from every pantheon live here," Brunhilde explains. "But to answer your question, yes, we do."

Interesting. You had always assumed Valkyries only led warriors to Valhalla. This discredits a lot of theories about death in general, like there being reapers.

"Do you know a lot about God Tethers? Or fate strings as you call them," Brunhilde suddenly asks.

Peering behind you for a moment, the cord slides along the floor.

"Only what media and fanfiction taught me about them. They're called the Red String of Fate and it links you to your soulmate. But I’ve always heard that the string is around a person’s pinkie, not their ankles.”

"Then you aren't aware that a God is the one who tethers predestined humans?" Brunhilde questions.

"I wasn't aware... But it makes sense."

You frown in response. Fate is only a concept to some it seems.

Brunhilde laughs uncouthly, a noise that doesn't match her demeanor.

"You seem upset."

"That some God is yanking people around like puppets on a string, yes," you answer honestly. "It doesn't seem fair and now even in death it can't be escaped."

You don't understand it at all.

"But that's not entirely true...is it? I'm a unique case or else you wouldn't be speaking to me."

"I'm merely curious," Brunhilde answers.

She stops at the end of the corridor, behind a railing that overlooks an enormous roofless stadium with thousands of seats. Your eyes widen in amazement.

"What is this place?"

"This is the Valhalla Arena. At the moment it stands as a precaution but that matters not at this time," Brunhilde answers.

You wonder what she means by this, but taking into account her entire answer, you know it isn't your place to ask. Perhaps it is a form of entertainment for the Gods and nothing more.

I doubt it, however.

With an uneasy sigh, you glance at her.

“Somewhere out there is the one I’m bound to.”

“Yes… so until I know who they are, I’d like you to remain here,” Brunhilde concludes.

You hum in understanding. Of course, you are curious, but the unknown unnerves you.

“Who is the God who put the string on me?”

Brunhilde grins.

“His name is Yue-Lao. He is known around China as the God of Love and Marriage. And for some reason, he has taken it upon himself to tether the dead.”

You get the feeling that Brunhilde wants to know why just as much as you do.

“I’ll help in whatever way I can.”

“As one would hope,” Brunhilde states.

You have no idea how long this investigation will last, but you are willing to wait it out for clarity.

I’m dead… there’s not much else I can do.

For once time is on your side.  

[holisticsoulhealer]

Great Life - A Spiritual Story

The equal opportunity of living a great life doesn’t necessarily exist for every single one of us. Some cultures, geographical points and birthing circumstances, do lend themselves to more obstacles in the journey toward a great life. That’s not to say that any one of us cannot potentially overcome where we began, it’s just that not everyone actually will be able to, or have assistance, or a road map to find their way to their own great life experience.

Those of us who do have access, and a much easier pathway toward a great life, are very fortunate indeed. I feel that for me, and most of you reading this, that a great life is not only possible, it’s also worth pursuing.

I have personally lived a great life already. To live big is to be happy, to pursue dreams, to be on purpose and to love and be loved.

I feel that all of these in many cases, is absolutely achievable, and definitely worth our time to continue to create and generate as a reality.

When I was younger I viewed the privileged, celebrity, wealthy, Royals as those who really lived a great life. I believed (wrongly) that to have more choices, more money and more opportunities, made it automatically a great life. With over 30 years of experiencing humanity in all its forms, guiding, channeling and healing hearts during all that time, I’ve realized so much about the suffering and challenges myself and my fellow humans have faced. One of the greatest understandings that’s come out of the work, has been that we all face our own challenging circumstances, with how we think, and how we feel about everything.

The mental and emotional view we take makes our reality what it is.

This is a big part of whether we endure what we are gifted as life experiences, or whether we choose to participate in enjoying a great life, almost regardless of the journey that helps us to reach that enjoyable part.

My finest example is mine.

I married my first real love. I met him at 16 and we traveled around the World in 80 days, in an adventure of a lifetime at 20 years old. We loved the excitement of experiencing life elsewhere, and we moved to America. He had huge family drama, and it changed him completely. He wasn’t the man I’d first met, and he left me behind. W

e split, with two children and one of the all-time worst partings I’ve ever seen, to this date. It was an ugly divorce. I literally (after years of struggle and turmoil) had to let my children leave me behind them, and they never looked back. As the marriage crumbled, I met a kind man who I spent 14 years with, and we had sweet times, in spite of our 25 year age gap. He and I traveled across most of the 50 States of America, on a great adventure, with love and laughter.

When he passed, I was totally lost. Suddenly at 52, I was single for the first time since I was 16. Navigating a World I’d never lived in before, was more than challenging. I really didn’t love it, and more often than not I forgot to reflect back on the great life I’d already lived.

I moved to Maui, Hawaii, close to a dear, beloved friend. I met the man of my dreams. He is the partner, twin flame and soul I’ve known existed all along. We are together and I intend keeping him around for the rest of this life.

I am living a great life, and because I am so happy, I can now reflect back on all the years I’ve so far lived, with the pleasure of living my great life. I can’t wait for the next chapter in this, my greatest life.

As always, please share this post with anyone that you feel can benefit from it! Please like us on your social media channels and subscribe to our mailing list if you haven't already done so! We are mailing out a monthly newsletter and a recap each week of our blog posts and interesting tidbits! This is how you can stay informed with what is new in the world of The Holistic Soul Healer!!

Love & Blessings,

Ruth

Get personal with your Angels!! Connect with me and see what they have to say!!

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[jswdmb1]

If I Had a Boat

“And if I had a boat

I'd go out on the ocean

And if I had a pony

I'd ride him on my boat

And we could all together

Go out on the ocean

Me upon my pony on my boat”

Lyle Lovett

I currently coach high-school boys in a park district basketball league.  One of the players is a friend’s son, and they needed to put an “adult” down as a coach.  She asked if I would be interested in helping as I had recently expressed a desire to coach again now that my kids no longer need my services. I asked her if they were up for me coming to practices and games to do what they needed, and they agreed.  During the first practice, I mostly watched, and then I asked them what kind of league this was.  They started naming teams of kids, which gave me some pause.  One is made up of varsity football players with a kid that is 6’ 5” in the middle.  Another team is last year’s JV basketball team, who just missed this year’s varsity team cut.  Most of the others are club teams that have been together for a while.  None sounded like a group of undersized friends of varying levels of experience looking to have a little fun on Sunday afternoons.  I didn’t say much as I like to keep things positive other than let’s see how things go, and we’ll take it from there.

They lost the first game we played last week by 52 points.  Remember that we are playing with a running clock, no press, and the other team had to drop behind the three-point line once they got up by fifteen, which was early in the first quarter. It is almost impossible to lose by that much in that amount of time under those conditions.  But these kids never gave up.  There are only eight on this team, so it is a short bench.  That means lots of minutes with little rest, and I never saw a decrease in energy.  Despite the long odds and disappointing results, I was pleased to see their effort never diminished.  The challenge was now on me to figure out how to accentuate the positives we could take from the defeat and build on it.  Our weekly practice was in a few days, so I had some time to think through it.

When Wednesday night came, I gathered them around before practice and gave a brief talk.  Remember that none of these kids belong to me, and I don’t even know most of them.  Still, I felt responsible for letting these young men know that days like last Sunday would happen.  It’s a reality you must accept in life; the sooner you hear it, the better.  Besides, who better to listen to it from than me?  I like to think I know a thing or two about bad days (who doesn’t – I don’t pretend I have the market covered on them).  The question was how to articulate it.  The best I could come up with was, “Boys, you are going to have days in life when you get your ass kicked, and Sunday was one of them.  The question is not why this happened, but what life is trying to tell me and how I can use that to improve.” That may be paraphrasing, and then I went on with some basketball stuff, but you get the gist of it.  Nothing particularly creative there, and possibly even cliche, but something that needed to be said, and I said it before moving on.

The problem with giving advice, even if it is decent, is that often you don’t take it yourself.  Or worse, no one is around to give it to you when you need it most.  I have had a decent share of my ass getting kicked in the past few months. A lot of those (most) were inventions of my own imagination.  Worse, I let them get to me and spent a lot of time asking why.  Little to no time was spent either figuring out what I could learn from these experiences or simply moving on because the event was so trivial.  It took a legitimate ass-kicking a few years ago really get the message home.  A few months after my dad died, I finally broke down.  I took a break and spent a few weeks in an outpatient program.  It was essentially spending time in the psych ward, but I got to go home at night.  Most of the people there were coming straight from the hospital.  Many had gone through a recent suicide attempt.  Others were suffering from addiction issues, bipolar disease, and one who heard voices (one of the nicest people I have ever met).  It was a profound experience that may have saved my life.

The biggest thing we learned was that you must find ways to express yourself.  A daily exercise in the program was journaling.  You would sometimes be asked to take what you wrote and read it to the group.  The point was that getting it out of you and onto paper was the first step, but saying it aloud made it real.  I wrote and said some things that were bottled up for years and finally gave some legitimacy to what I had kept inside for so long.  Finding this side of me was liberating and exciting.  I even thought I saw hints of creativity in my writing, which I never believed I had.  When my release came, I knew I wanted to keep doing it, but I wasn’t sure how.  That’s roughly when I started this blog, and rough is a good word to describe my work.  Not that it has smoothed out much in the last few years, but I feel it has come together with some practice and inspiration.  The source of that inspiration was my favorite DJ and best friend in the world, Lin Brehmer.  

If you are reading this, you know my love for music and that WXRT is my favorite radio station.  I discovered it around the same time Lin took over as the morning host in 1991.  Coming out of the 80s as a teenager had me awfully confused from a musical sense (among many other senses that were confused).  The music on XRT grounded me and, more importantly, expanded my horizons.  Remember, there was no internet or streaming music at this point, so self-discovery of new music, while possible, was difficult.  Especially if you didn’t get a hint about the latest hot new band, an upcoming show at the Vic, or where to get some of this fine music at the non-corporate neighborhood record stores.  DJs on the station, like Terri Hemmert, Marty Lennartz, and Frank E. Lee, were like professors guiding a young student along his way.  While I loved them all, there was a guy that stood out who seemed to really take me under his wing.  That, of course, was Lin.

I did not listen to Lin in the mornings so much at the time because I wasn’t usually up until well after he signed off at 10:00.  But I heard him often at night when they would play his latest Lin’s bin segment.  It was often on the way home after taking my first job in accounting.  His soothing voice and wise words (often funny) helped right the ship after a particularly bad day.  I would think, “I wish I had that job,” and dreamed of someday losing the shackles of my office work and spinning records while waxing poetically about whatever came to mind.  That, of course, never happened because I don’t have any talent for such a job, but isn’t that what dreams are for? 

Many years later, this blog is my realization of that dream in my own little way.  Everything about it is stolen from Lin.  This includes the connection to music in the title, the mix of topics that inspire me whenever they happen (which accounts for the haphazard timing of my posts), or the attempt to find a little more meaning out of this life than what appears on the surface.  I don’t even think to pretend that I come within the same universe as Lin, but he taught me that it doesn’t make any difference.  It’s about what is inside you and living your life true to that.  You don’t have to be somebody else.  Just be yourself.  

That is why yesterday was so tough.  My first instinct after hearing of Lin’s passing was to be pissed.  Another good guy in this world who was important to me was taken too soon.  Most influential men in my life are gone and left this world much earlier than I felt they should have. I just went through this less than six months ago with my father-in-law, Mike.  Now, I must deal with it again, and I really don’t think it’s fair.  Why can’t it be someone kind of rotten?  There are many great candidates to nominate, but I quickly stopped creating a list.  That is not what Lin was about.  I spent the rest of the day yesterday going about my day and thinking through what his life really meant to me.  Here was a man I had never met but who had so much influence on my life, and I found myself as profoundly sad as I ever had.  Instead of questioning things further, I went with the feeling.  I ended the night with a couple hours of listening to Terri Hemmert’s beautiful selection of songs honoring Lin.  I finally had to turn it off because it was getting too sad.  I knew there would be plenty of time for that today.

As I write this, I am listening to the tribute show on the air at XRT.  It started with me crying (took twelve minutes from the start of the tribute), but it quickly moved into writing as those emotions needed to flow somewhere.  I have not been able to write a thing of worth since Mike died, but today this essay poured out of me in about 45 minutes.  I have been able to do nothing else since I sat down at the typewriter.  There was no way I couldn’t.  If Lin taught me anything, it is to go with your heart and treat every day as the gift that it is.  It is simple advice but awfully hard to follow.  Kind of like what I told those boys at that practice recently.  

After my talk, they went out, practiced their asses off, and looked better than I ever saw them in my brief stint as their coach.  I said so afterward and encouraged them to take that with them into the next game, and we will see results.  That game just happened to be a few hours after Lin’s death, and just like in a fairy tale, they went out and lost by 42 points.  I don't say that as a joke.  I was truly heartened to see them work and improve over a very short time. In one week, they doubled their point total (from 15 to 31!) and cut their margin of the deficit by 20%.  I don’t care how you want to analyze things, but those are metrics that really show success regardless of the final outcome.  

That may not be true, but there is no denying that while I was standing on those sidelines, I could hear Lin’s voice telling me it was.  He had an optimism on life that was tinted with just the right touch of cynicism that really spoke to me.  It is summarized as enjoy the moment but recognize it for what it is worth and not what it could be or isn’t. So, despite everything else that was important to me that I learned from Lin to enjoy, like music, writing, fun, good food, and baseball (we differed on teams, but the passion is the same), nothing matters more than his signature catchphrase “It’s great to be alive.”  That could sound ironic on a day like today, but it doesn’t in any way whatsoever.  That’s because Lin was genuine when he said it, and I truly believed he lived his life exactly the way he preached.  As sad as I am, I feel pretty good about that, and I also think I made a pretty good choice for a role model.  What is even cooler is that thousands upon thousands of people feel the same way I do.  And isn’t that what life is really about?  Living it to the fullest and making a difference in the lives you touch. And Lin is an excellent choice if you are searching for a role model.  His death does not eliminate him from the job; it may even accentuate it.  It is a perfect tribute to him, and in return, I guarantee you will find out that you have a new best friend in the whole wide world.

[btswritingcafe]

Welcome to Btswritingcafe’s Specialty Coffee Anniversary Event.

For this event we highlight two exciting anniversaries: Btswritingcafe’s 3rd anniversary as a network and BTS’ 9th anniversary.

How we want to incorporate both of these anniversaries is by hosting an event that highlights our cafe theme while focusing on BTS b-side tracks.

Want to get involved? Read on for more information!

— DETAILS

There will be three categories that contain various b-side tracks. A lyric will be listed that is meant to be the basis for a fic.

The lyric can be transformed into a fic however the writer chooses. As long as it is incorporated in some form, that is the main goal.

The b-side tracks are meant to highlight songs of BTS that deserve all the love.

You are not restricted to the one lyric that is listed on this post. This is just a starting point.

Only one person can write for one song.

Each fic should be at least 500 words.

— HOW TO APPLY

Read the entirety of this post.

You do not need to be a member to participate. However, you must follow the network if you are not currently a member.

Like and Reblog this post.

Read our network guidelines for posting fics.

Fill out application.

Tag your fic during posting fic with the tag #cafeanniversary22

There will be an event discord in order for us to communicate about this collab. If you do not have a discord please let us know in the application and we will make it work!

— SPECIALTY COFFEE MENU

coffee beverages

Let Me Know | “The promises we made disappeared with the time we spent together, The dominos have fallen with our breakup.”

Coffee | “Breaking up was like a bitter americano, My memories still go to that cafe.”

Embarrassed | “I was too shy to become your sun so I became a cold moon. But afterwards, I keep making a wave of blankets on top of my ocean bed.”

Boyz With Fun | “The fun boys go until the dawn moon sets. This is so fun, all fakeness has gone home. So even if you’re tone-deaf or rhythm-deaf. It doesn’t matter, throw your timidness away.”

Am I Wrong | “Am I wrong, fallin' in love with you. Tell me am I wrong.”

tea beverages

Ma City | “You’re my summer autumn, Winter and every spring.”

Sea | “Where there is hope, there is always trial.”

House Of Cards | “A house made of cards, and us, inside, Even though the end is visible. Even if it’s going to collapse soon.”

Whalien 52 | “An endless signal will reach someday. Everywhere, even to the other side of the earth.”

134340 | “Beyond the fog, I watch you as you continue to smile, Without you or anything, There’s no meaning to my irregular orbit.”

baked goods

Butterfly | “You're there but for some reason, I can't reach you.”

21st Century Girls | “Whatever other people say, Whatever this world tells you, You’re the best to me just the way you are.”

Moving On | “Goodbye to this place, that we grew attached to, Let’s move. Now to a higher place.”

Best Of Me | “You got the best of me, you got the best of me. It's not important if it's a dream or reality. Only the fact that you're by my side.”

Lost | “Even if I'm slow I will walk with my own feet, Because I know this path is mine to take.”

— TIMELINE

April 18th - April 23 | application is open.

April 24th | application closed and admins send out messages regarding event information.

April 24th - June 12th | fic writing commences.

June 13th - June 19th | posting week

June 20th | masterlist posted

[aspiestvmusings]

FUN TV FACTS:

HUMAN PREGNANCIES (FULL TERM) ON TV SHOWS: 

...and the continuity mistakes that come with those plots... 

FRIENDS: Rachel Green

Got pregnant/Revealed to be pregnant: May 2001 (revealed on May 15th at Mondler wedding...when she was around a few weeks...as they’ve said in the episodes that it happened “about abonth ago” before the wedding) in ep 7x23/24 - S7 finale

Due date/Gave birth: Spring of the next year, 2002 in ep 8x23/24- S8 finale 

Gestation period: Unknown, but about a year implied (conception in April, birth April of next year, when an April conception implies birth in winter/Jan)

Fiction/Reality: Actress not pregnant IRL

No exact dates for the birth or other info given. But it’s been implied the baby was born in spring (April/May), and by end of year (Thanksgiving) when Rachel returns to work the baby looks around half a year old & she’s learning to crawl & walk only during season 9B (end of S9). So while exact details are unknown, the pregnancy definitely lasted longer than 40 weeks + 8? days (she was over her due date... it was a plot point in the birth ep)... closer to a year or so. 

THE X-FILES: Dana Scully

Got pregnant/revealed to be pregnant: May of 2000 - ep 7x22 (S7 finale) 

Due date/Gave birth: May of next year, 2001 - ep 8x21 (S8 finale) 

Gestation period: around 52 weeks/1 year (but guess that’s “normal”, since it’s implied the baby wasn’t human, but alien... *wink*) 

Fiction/Reality: Actress not pregnant IRL

Sources: 

7x22: Pregnancy revealed as a S7 cliffhanger ending twist in ep 7x22. 

8x15: “Gary was  abducted last May. same time as Mulder” 

8x21: Birth of baby William (no exact date given but spring/May implied) 

9x06 Baby William looks like a 4-10 month (around 6 months-old) baby when we see him in this episode that takes place in January 2002 (Jan 7th is the date of the e-mail Mulder sent Scully). That is around 21 months  after she’s revealed to be pregnant in May 2000... so while Mulder & Scully lost 9 minutes in the series premiere, we/Scully lost around 6 months during her pregnancy...when time “disappeared” 

Inconsistencies: 

8x01 Skinners phone records show dates of his recent calls & the dates are for February & March, when its just after Mulder’s abduction (days, 1-2 weeks) #continuityerror #theythinknoonereadsthetextonfilesandscreensshown ? 

8x13 show records of Mulder’s car rental in May 2000

8x13 reveals that Scully is 14 weeks along (the fetus/baby is ~8cm as the doc says)

8x15 happens around 3 months after episode 8x13 events (and Scully looks visibly pregnant, around 6-7-months... it seems) 

BONES: Temperance Brennan 

Got pregnant/Revealed to be pregnant: spring 2011 - ep 6x23 (S6 finale) 

Due date/Gave birth:  unknown date - ep 7x07

Gestation period: unknown

Fiction/Reality: Actress was pregnant IRL, pregnancy written around her real life pregnancy & maternity leave 

Additional info: Pregnancy revealed in 623, with strong suggestion that the conception happened in 6x22...the night after VNMs death. Since I am unaware of the S7 timeline (shortened season with what looks no Xmas ep to help determine the timeline), I am unaware of the birth date.

BONES:Angela Montenegro

Got pregnant/Revealed to be pregnant: unknown date in  ep 6x01 (S6 premiere)

Due date/Gave birth:  unknown date in ep 6x23 (S6 finale) 

Gestation period: unknown (but sounds like around 9-10 mths)

Fiction/Reality: Actress not pregnant IRL

Additional info: Though no exact dates revealed, the pregnancy reveal seems to happen in autumn/fall (6x01) & the baby seems to have been born in the spring of next year (6x23), so that is the closest to reality from the examples I’ve listed. This seems like a normal human pregnancy that follows the timeline of reality quite well. 

CM: Jennifer Jareau (BABY #1) 

Got pregnant/Revealed to be pregnant: spring 2011 - ep 3x18 

Due date/Gave birth:  unknown date - ep 407 

Gestation period: unknown

Fiction/Reality: Actress was pregnant IRL, pregnancy written around her real life pregnancy & maternity leave 

JJ reveals that she is pregnant in episode 318 & she gives birth (to baby Henry) in ep 407. 

CM: Jennifer Jareau (BABY #1)

Got pregnant/Revealed to be pregnant: spring 2011 - ep 10x23 (S10 finale) 

Due date/Gave birth:  unknown date before ep 11x01, revealed in 11x01 (S11 premiere) 

Gestation period: unknown

Fiction/Reality: Actress was pregnant IRL, pregnancy written around her real life pregnancy & maternity leave 

JJ reveals to Reid that he’s gonna be a Godfather again in the S10 finale. S11 premiere picks up after a timejump, and it’s revealed JJ had her baby...as we  see her hold the baby & she’s on maternity leave til ep 11x07. No dates revealed. 

CONCLUSION: It’s always better...for continuity and believability if a TV characters pregnancy plot is written around/for/during the actresses real life pregnancy (compared to pregnancy plots when the actress isn’t pregnant IRl). Cause no real baby bump & maternity leave equals to unbelievable and impossible gestation periods and other things. (TV shows love to leave pregnancy reveals & birth to season finales...which equals to 52-week = 12 month pregnancy instead of the normal 40 week/~9 months* human pregnancy)

But either way... the one thing I expect fiction to follow reality and laws of Nature is things like this. I don’t care that much if TV shows get some things wrong, and twist  facts, but when they twist the laws of nature so bad... which is very visible with pregnancy plots... it’s to me like they’re ignoring gravity and things don’t fall down, but fall up. Or showing the sun set on east and rise from the west. So that is the thing that annoys me a lot with pregnancy plots... cause too often are laws of nature ignored just to time the big events for certain eps (sweeps eps, premieres/finales, Xmas eps)

Post created: Dec 6th, 2017

[maddieinwonder]

A Lesson In Romance #3: The Cast

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, the team figures it out.

A/N: I'm guilty of writing too much Morgan and Garcia but I can't help it — they're so much fun! I think them plus Emily would have the most dramatic reactions to Spencer in a (potential) relationship, though I'm excited to write about the rest too.

(Also, the reference at the end is from Lord of the Rings, because I love Lord of the Rings.)

Masterlist | All chapters here!

-----------

If you've learned anything from rom-coms, it's that every romantic lead needed a supporting cast. Whether they were siblings, parents, or childhood best friends, the main character needed somebody who would drop everything to talk to them — preferably showing up at their doorstep with face masks, nail polish, and a bottle of wine.

In your life right now, you suppose those people would be your teammates from the BAU.

Of course, this hypothetical scenario didn't require your potential love interest to be from work, but let's say for the purposes of the discussion that they were. Then you hoped, at least, that they would have an IQ of 150 or higher and a propensity for wearing mismatched socks.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. You were simply imagining the hypothetical scenario where your life was a rom-com. Hypothetically, you would need a love interest, and hypothetically, you kind of already had one.

“Hey,” Spencer waved you over from across the coffee shop. It wasn’t difficult to spot him when the place was nearly vacant. Everything was slow and quiet this early in the morning, and you weren’t going to make an exception.

“Morning,” you greeted softly as you sat down, relaxing into the smell of freshly roasted coffee and baked goods.

“I already ordered yours.” He smiled, tucking his book away in his messenger bag. “They had bagels this morning. Yours is cream cheese, but mine is strawberry jelly.” He looked overly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but crack a sleepy smile.

You eyed the spread in front of you, before lifting your gaze to meet his. “So your theory that you can predict my taste in desserts seems to be getting better.”

"Yes!" He shout-whispered, silently raising his fists in victory. “I knew I was right.”

You giggled at his overexcitement over something as small as getting your dessert order right. Although, he did once spend ten whole minutes explaining to you why dessert for breakfast was an underrated concept, so you couldn't say this was beyond your expectations for Dr. Spencer Reid.

You propped your head up with your arms, a smile plastered over your face. “Have I ever told you that you’re a weirdo, doctor?” You teased.

“Why, yes. Yes you have.” He replied with a smile, gesturing at you to try the bagel. His own was almost-gone, so they must be good.

And it was. Your eyes fluttered shut as the heavenly combination of carbs and cream woke up your taste buds. It was made even better with a sip of the perfect cup of coffee.

"Perfect," you sighed happily, digging into your breakfast further as Spencer quietly caught you up on the latest news in classical art.

Two weeks ago, you wouldn't have guessed that you would talk to Spencer alone, much less spend your mornings together with him. But as it turned out, a lot could change in a few days.

After the initial awkwardness between you had passed, you found that the two of you shared a lot more interests than interdimensional doctors and space opera. You both loved coffee, obviously, but you also had a mutual love for desserts, classical literature, and history.

It didn't take long for these interests to seep into the weekend, resulting in a suspiciously date-like afternoon with Spencer at his favourite museum. But you tried not to think too much into it. After all, the day had ended with a "see you at work", and not a "would you like to come in?"

Still, your dance between friendship and something more continued to grow wilder as days passed, until it reached a point where it inhabited your every waking thought. The only time it didn't, ironically, was when you were spending time with the person in question and every stray thought seemed to fall away.

Your mornings with him brought a necessary reprieve to the dark realities of this job, and some days you almost had to drag yourself out of your seat, knowing that you were straying from the calm of his company straight into the lion's mouth. But duty always called.

Your sudden hesitance to be apart from the resident genius hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of your team either; ever since the two of you walked into office one morning with matching coffee cups and smiles on your faces.

At first you enjoyed Spencer's company too much to care, but you knew that it was going to bite you back one day. And today seemed to be that day.

You could tell, because the lift doors to the BAU opened to one very determined Penelope Garcia with her arms folded across her chest. "Spit it out, you two," she said sharply without any greeting.

You and Spencer looked at each other, confused, before looking back at Penelope. "Spit out what, Pen?" You asked, a frown starting to form between your eyes.

"You know what I mean!" She squeaked, dropping her stern facade for a brief moment. "Are the two of you dating? The entire team has been dying to know, and I mean, d-y-i-n-g because there's a huge pot of money with my name on it if you are."

"Ah— No— I mean, you think—" Spencer stammered, his face instantly turning beet red in embarrassment, while your face began to grow red for another reason entirely.

"I think what he means is 'no', and what I mean to say is— what do you mean the entire team?" You half-yelled the question, while Penelope raised her hands defensively.

"What I mean, sugar, is that the two of you went from avoiding each other completely, to coming into work together everyday — and I know you spent last weekend together too, because you couldn't stop talking about it the next day at work and everybody noticed." She stated, pushing up her glasses.

"Not to mention, Dr. Reid here started wearing brighter colours subconsciously." She continued with her observations. "I know this, because in the almost four years I've worked with this man, I've never seen him wear anything brighter than violet. Or white. Or beige. But those don't count." She shook her head, getting back to her point.

"You get what I mean— and you," she pointed her pen in your direction, causing you to jump slightly. "You finally stopped doubting yourself as a part of this team. I knew this when you started talking more often during briefings — which I have nothing against, B-T-W, I totally support any effort in self-care and personal growth — but you also stopped shifting in your seat which you used to do when you felt nervous."

Penelope took a deep breath, preparing for the climax. "So all I can assume, is either you've been attending one of the 52 self-help classes that happen every weekend in Virginia, or somebody has been helping you find some serious zen."

"And my money's on the latter because every time you think nobody's watching, you're making eyes at Reid. But you're wrong. Garcia is always watching." She concluded triumphantly, raising one finger to point at herself.

"You might make a good profiler yet, doll." Derek remarked, walking up to the group with a smirk firmly affixed to his face.

"Expert at all things romance, and Cupid of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Penelope Garcia at your service." She smiled, graciously curtseying to your other teammate.

"I know you're smart like that, babygirl," he grinned, draping his arm around her shoulder, "but you also don't know pretty boy as well as I do, because they aren't in a relationship."

He turned to you questioningly. "Are you?"

"No." You replied, glancing hesitantly at Spencer for his response, but his face simply looked blank with shock.

"See? Now it's time to collect my payout." Derek grinned at the tech analyst, making the motion of raining dollar bills.

Penelope tailed behind him grumpily as he walked into the BAU office, surely to share the "good news" with everybody else.

You hesitated to follow, imagining what teasing and looks would follow regardless of the outcome. Then you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, Spencer gestured back at the empty lift with his head and you smiled, realising what he meant.

"That is the best hypothesis you've had all morning," you said. The two of you shared a laugh as you got back into the lift.

Even behind glass doors, you could hear a muffled "What?!" that you guessed came from Emily. "There's absolutely no way those two aren't together already. Have you seen them?"

There was a brief pause, then a loud groan.

"I know, that's what I told him!" Penelope's high-pitched voice was clear. "You know I'm going to be right about them eventually—"

The lift doors finally closed, blocking out the rest of their conversation. You looked up at Spencer, your gaze meeting his clear hazel eyes. He looked at his watch briefly before saying the next words.

"We've got time. Are you up for second breakfast?" He asked, referencing a movie from a conversation two weeks ago. He remembered. Of course he remembered.

You cleared your throat before replying the next line. "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper?"

He laughed, and you felt a familiar peace return to you.

Whatever your teammates were yelling about, the two of you could deal with it later. Together.

-----------

Tag list:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot

[suicidalslasher]

𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒚 ➤ 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆

Here's one of three Carrie White fics!! :D This is honestly short and sweet, plus simple... compared to the other two. But.... it's here and I'm very much happy with the way it came out. I hope you all enjoy it, as well.

Although, the gif is of Sissy, you can pretend it's either version of Carrie.

(Chloe or Angela's. I, personally, just prefer Sissy's. Although, I love all three.) And despite it being Sissy, too, I took inspiration from the (2002) adaption with Angela whereas Carrie never died in the accident of her house.

Instead, she lives and runs away. And yadda yadda. Enjoy!! xx

Warnings: None. Unless you count fluff and love confessions UwU.

“I know she was your friend but c’mon, (Y/N). She was nothing more than a piece of shit… Grow up. Move on.”

“She was a monster, (Y/N). Do you really think she wasn’t? After all she had done? She destroyed everything and hurt so many people… she killed several hundred people, too… if that isn’t a cruel, heartless bitch, I don’t know who or what is.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just like her…. are you a demon in disguise, too, (Y/N)?”

They said the same exact thing. The statements were always said by different people but the topic of the subject remained the same - Carrie White.   Carrie White was the devil. So on and so forth…

It was a constant reminder she no longer was here with us - with me.  

 The tragedy that struck on prom  night wasn’t my fault. Nor, was it Carrie’s.

Carrie had so much anger built up within her, she was bound to explode with rage eventually. And that day just so happened to unravel at the dance. All thanks to the students (and some teachers) of Bates High.

They constantly bullied Carrie for no real given reason, they harassed her for things she couldn’t quite control, either.  Not me, though.

I’m not crazy, even if there are people that  say I am and even if there are those that put words in my mouth I never said to begin with, too -

It’s not true.

None of it is true.

Everything you’ve read about Carrie White is false. Everything you’ve, more than likely, heard about her is furthest from the truth, also.

She’s not a monster. She never was one. She was just an ordinary girl, begging to be loved,  to be happy. And I loved her.

I just… I wish more than anything she realized how much I loved her.  I was in love with Carrie White, truly, madly, deeply…. in love with her.

And nobody could ever change how I felt - how I feel - towards her.

The night I was going to confess my feelings, believe it or not, was before the dance. Before everything happened.

The moment I arrived to the dance, well…by then, it was too late.   I hadn’t known it yet but almost everyone  was trapped inside the gymnasium, nails digging through the doors as they tried - and failed - to escape.

Their blood curling whines and agonizing moans were silenced by the music that played out on the speakers which echoed outside of the windows and bounced back and forth from the building to the parking lot.

I didn’t realize something terrible had happened until I smelled an intoxicating scent that caused my eyes to blur over with tears and caused me to grimace as the odor only grew stronger, thicker.

I winced and gazed around the parking lot which still remained full of different colored vehicles.     Confusion struck but after a moment or two later, realization hit like a ton of bricks.

From where I had stood, I saw a huge  cloud of gray smoke lingering around the building, only growing more and more thicker in the sky.

When I first arrived, the sky was crystal clear.  Not a single   speck of white was seen from above.   Now, that beautiful shade of blue was replaced with dark and haunting clouds of gray.

Even the moon was no longer hanging in the air for the smoke had it hidden.

The odor that swarmed the air, I realized, was people’s flesh burning.   One by one, people within the school were dying and suffocating to death.

Call me whatever you wish, as I’ve been called every name in the book, but I mean it when I say that I could care less  about the students and teachers of Bates High. If that made me an insensitive bitch, so be it.

The only reason I even attempted to try to get inside the building was because I remembered Carrie had gone to the dance with Tommy Ross.  And I’d do anything to save her.

Expect… I couldn’t.

Every area of the school was locked. Every entrance and exit doors were shut tightly. No matter how hard I tried to open them,  the damned thing wouldn’t budge.

I even tried to go through the windows but they were shut, too. There was nothing I could do.

Nothing expect fall to the ground and bury my face in my hands as tears began to fall, one by one, a tear dropped and soaked my hands and stained my cheeks.

Everyone said prom was a night to remember… but I doubt anyone wanted to remember their prom like this.

*~*

The following week after the incident, I heard a knock at my door. Slowly making my way out of bed, I walk down my too small and narrow hallway and open the door once I’ve reached the entrance,  glancing at the  person behind the screen door.

Sue Snell stood there, hands in her pocket and a look of sadness painted across her face.

“(Y/N),” She began.  “Can…. can we talk?”

“About what?” I snarled, not caring if I came off as rude or ignorant or any other definition.  I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to sleep and never wake up. I already knew where the conversation was going and what the main subject was going to be about. And I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to talk about it.

“It’s about last week…  It’s…. it’s about Carrie.”

“I already know. She’s dead, okay? She’s dead and she isn’t going to come back, you don’t have to remind me.” I go to shut the door but Sue sticks her foot out and stops me from doing so. I narrow my eyebrows at her and give her a questioning gaze.

“Please…” She but all begged. “Tonight. Meet me at her headstone, tonight, would you? Midnight. I’m being serious. Trust me on this, would you? I know you have no reason to… but please.. if not for me, for Carrie.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it. Now, I have to go.”

“(Y/N), wait-”

Before she could finish her sentence, I’m  closing the door in her face and storming back to my bedroom, falling onto my mattress with an ‘ugh’ leaving my lips.

For the past few days, I didn’t do anything expect cry and scream into my pillow.

The moment I got back under the covers and buried my face under several blankets and two of my pillows,  the tears came rushing back down.

I was surprised I still had tears left in me from all the crying I had done, truth be told.

I tried, really, I did… to be strong but it was so hard. Especially when Carrie wasn’t here to make things better.

It was so difficult to live when  the one person you kept yourself alive for is no longer around…. it’s hard to live when your heart is no longer beating.

The day Carrie White died was the day a little part of me died, too.

*~*

It was 11:50PM.

The house was eerily silent. The only noise, from where I was at in my bedroom, was the whistle of the wind and the gentle knocking of tree limbs outside on my window.

I glance at the clock by my bedside table. It now read 11:52.

I sigh and sit up, my feet touching the cold hardwood floor. I rub my hands over my face tiredly as I try to come to a decision whether or not I wanted to meet Sue at Carrie’s gravestone.

I came to the decision… yes, I should go.  After all, I wanted to make sure nobody wrote any more harsh and ruthless slurs on Carrie’s grave.

Even in death, they wouldn’t let her rest and wouldn’t stop picking on her.   Carrie should be able to rest and yet there’s hundreds of people who forbid her from doing so. It was a shame.

People say Carrie White is a monster or the daughter of the Devil himself but in reality, the only monsters are the ones  that won’t leave that poor girl alone.

"If you look in the face of evil - evil's going to look right back at you."

*~*

The time I got to the cemetery  it had just turned midnight.  As I exited out the car, it seemed as if the howl of the wind grew louder upon my arrival.

“Hello?” I call out. My voice seems loud against the empty area and I grimace; I didn’t realize how wobbly it sounded until I had spoken.

(I blamed that on all the off and on crying sessions I’ve done recently.)

“Sue? Are you there? Hello?”

Nothing.

I groan and face palm, shaking my head from side to side. I should’ve known not to come. I should have known better and yet-

“(Y/N).”

My eyes dart forward and I feel my knees begin to buckle out underneath me and all the air in my lungs is snatched away from me.

“(Y/N).” She repeats, walking toward me and gives me a wry smile. “Hi.”

“C-Carrie?” My voice shook and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There she was, alive, breathing and all.

And she was right in front of me.

“You… I thought you were dead.” I was speechless. I could barely form any sentences without stumbling over my words.

“That’s why I’m here,” Carrie explained, stepping closer to me.  She rests the palm of her hand across my cheek, fingers brushing over my skin and I shudder, goose bumps prickling ever so softly across my arms.

“I didn’t know how to tell you….” She continued, sighing as she moves a loose piece of hair back and out from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

“I didn’t want anyone to know but Sue found me  on the side of the road when my house collapsed… she took me under her wing and helped me out.” She informed.  Carrie looked up and gave me a shy smile, her cheeks turning a bright rosy red.

“She insisted I should tell you, too… I was wanting to tell you, regardless but… I had been so scared. I’ve been terrified recently…. and with everything that happened, I only got more scared and… well, I thought you’d be like them and laugh at me or go on and tell the world where I was at and-”

“Carrie, I love you.” I blurt, unable to stop the words from forming out my mouth.

“I’d never, in any way, hurt you. I’ve loved you for the longest time and I thought…. I thought you were dead, Carrie… and it truly felt like I lost a piece of myself, too.”

The blush on Carrie’s cheeks grows darker, deeper as she nods. Tears swell in the corner of her eyes and she laughs softly, taking her hand away from my cheek as she wipes her eyes, sniffling quietly.

“I know. Sue told me, too… and I didn’t believe her. How could anyone love a freak like me? The laughing stock? Everyone’s personal punching bag..” Carrie smiled sadly as she shook her head.

“Mama told me it was a sin, you know? Love only is shared between a man and a woman. Not two men or two women together but… I realized I’d rather burn in Hell and be with the person I love than to go to Heaven being the person I’m not. I love you, (Y/N).

“I prayed every night for a friend and you came into my life at the time I needed you the most. You’re not only my best friend but my blessing, too.” By the time she’s finished talking, I’m crying and pulling her into my chest, hugging her tightly.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” I repeat.  “From the moment I met you in the library and we bonded over our favorite novels together at the start of school, I knew I wanted to be your friend. I could care less what others thought.

And then when we went to the park that Saturday evening and had a picnic, I knew I loved you then…. I knew that no matter what, whether we were friends or more, I always wanted to make you happy, Carrie White.”

“And you do,” she reassured, voice cracking as she buried her head in the crook between my shoulder and neck. “You make me the happiest girl alive. I’ve never known true happiness until you came into the picture, (Y/N).”

I pull a little bit of ways out and take her face, pressing my hands across her cheeks and with little to no hesitation, I press my lips hungrily against hers.

Carrie, almost instantly, kisses back.

“I love you.” I murmur into the kiss, not daring to pull away.

“I love you.” She muttered. Through the kiss, I can feel the corners of her lips curling up into a smile. A grin finds its way across my face, too.

“Let’s go… let’s get out of here.” She said, pulling back as she looks up and into my eyes. “Let’s leave Chamberlain and never look back.”

And so, well, we did.

Carrie White wasn’t your average or your typical ordinary girl. She had powers, as I came to find out. I knew there was something unique, something special about her and now I knew what it was.

Carrie White wasn’t a demon. Or the daughter of the Devil or none of that sort.

Carrie White was simply just a girl, ready to start her own life and accomplish her own goals and seek happiness.

And I, (Y/N) (L/N) would do anything to help her achieve that.

Carrie White deserved better than to live in fear and shame.

Carrie White, just like anybody else, deserved to be happy.

So, whether you believe me or not, I don’t care.

If you still think she is a monster in disguise or whatever; I do not care.

I know the truth. Sue Snell knows the truth, too. Carrie White is anything but a monster.

Carrie White is, and forever will be, my girl.

And that’s just that.

End of story.

[joannasteez]

Hey lovely! Could I request a little something for Jax? It could be a headcanon or imagine, it’s up to you. But could it be about the reader is Angel and Ez’s little sister, and she’s in love with Jax?

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 {𝐇.𝐂}

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Jax Teller x Reyes!Reader

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: The emotional direction wasn’t specified so I kind of just went with what came to me, by the way, This is my very first request!!, so hope whoever sent it in enjoys ❤️

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Angst. Fluff. I also suck at simplifying things so this is another long head canon, apologies if that sort of thing bothers you all lol.

Credits to the gif maker @tragertrap

Taglist: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @elektriknachosss @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @superhoeva @witching-hour @noz4a2 @nutterbu @withmyteeth

If you’d like to be tagged for Mayans MC fics ONLY let me know!!

☠︎

It amazed Felipe at times, scared him even, at how similar you looked to your mother Marisol. The spitting image of her; a younger, but slightly taller, reincarnation. But you were your fathers child through and through. The toothless yet warm endearing smile, the sharp intuitiveness, placid nature, and just through the black center of your eyes, enough experience to cover a few lifetimes. It’s what the Reyes men feared the most, that uncanny familial trait that forces you to bury such soul crushing pain, to turn cold to things that warrant warmth. Your father has it, your brothers as well, Ezekiel more than Angel, and so do you.

You had it now, that calm, collected demeanor, as the guys brought in a bleeding Jax Teller through the entry doors of the lodge. He was barely conscious, eyes dim, limbs heavy, and blood staining all along his color drained skin and the aged leather of his kutte. If you were anyone else you’d be alarmed, startled by the amount of blood and frantic men, but you were you, having seen too many things that resembled such a scene to let even a shudder pass through you.

“Get the kit, we need you to sew him up but he’s lost a lot of blood.”, Bishop says briskly, filled with worry, and your feet move faster than your mind can comprehend, snatching the kit laying near by and pacing to the bedroom where they have Jax. His head elevated by pillows, Both Ezekiel and Angel hot on your tail waiting for you to give them directions.

There’s a poorly wrapped cloth that lays against the wound, and just as you peel it back you pressurize the wound with a gauze. “I need gloves”, you say.

Angel’s a bit taken back, the President of the Sons original charter is on the precipice of death and you’re talking about gloves. “We don’t have time for that”.

“Just get the fucking gloves Angel”, you clip. Tone harsher than it’s meant to be, but he takes no offense and moves quick for the gloves before coming back.

You’re cleaning Jax’s skin once there on, wiping away all the blood that pours from him. A needle in your hand, eyes steady. “This is gonna hurt”.

Jax is sweating, teeth clenched at the piercing sting of the needle. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Did he really just ask you that? “I guess we’ll just have to find out”, you deadpan.

“Y/N”, Ezekiel warns.

The situation isn’t funny, a man’s life is on the line but still, you want to laugh at the audacity. “What?! He’s got a bullet in his abdomen and he’s worried about if I know what I’m doing”.

There’s silence now, a heaviness that settles to suffocate the whole lodge it seems. A dread of existential proportions that looms like a phantom in the waning rusted gold of the setting sun. The stillness is calming as you work, slipping the fine needle through his paling skin with a frightening ease that forces a worried look to Ezekiel’s face, Angel’s as well. Mayhem has consumed them all, men who laugh in the face of death everyday are doubling over, overwrought with fear, and here you are, unaware of the dark silhouette that threatens to form over Jax’s body, inching over the walls, creeping slowly as they tease whispers of death through the wispy blow of the wind.

Your brothers leave after while, called out by Bishop and Chibs who are talking over possible scenarios for revenge.

“Can you stay after this......... please?” It’s barely a whisper, and it’s drawled, but you hear the need in his voice.

It compels you to say “Okay”.

When you’re finished you wipe at Jax’s skin again, fingers trembling just the slightest as your mind catches up with your body, or is it the other way around? You’re not sure, but the two have surely had a crashing reunion and now you’re exhausted at such a fast build and fall of adrenaline. You’re thinking now, at the side of the bed, of deeply buried memories because the blood reminds you, it always does. All you see is Marisol, and your vision is blurred, eyes glistening with warm tears that comfort your skin, thumb shaking as you push the wetness away. She’s so lovely in your mind, a bright silhouette framing her and she’s so beautiful, so light and gentle. The aura of her, just from a thought, it makes her presence palpable again, till you remember she isn’t really there. Because it’s just a memory. A timeless mirage of sorts that ungrounds you from reality.

You breath, looking to the clock to find that it’s been three hours already. Three hours of you looking through your memories for your mother, Marisol. It’s purposeful, must be, why the need to think of her is so strong in this moment of all moments.

It’s infuriating, that you weren’t there, you couldn’t save her, but you were here now and you saved Jax. That counts for something right? It had to.

He’s awake again, and you’re not sure how but he is. Must be the force of his will that has his eyes opening, fighting against a sleep that feels too much like forever. “You alright?”

His eyes are a near lifeless blue but still they’ve got shine to them. “I should be asking you that, you’re the one that got shot”.

“Why the tears darlin’ ?”

You’re not up for a personal deep dive, never have been really. “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

He smiled, noticing your reserved demeanor. “They we’re probably tears for me, I saw how worried you were earlier”, he jokes sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “Why’d you want me to stay?”

“Didn’t want to die alone, if I did”.

You shake your head, fully convinced of otherwise. “You weren’t gonna die”.

He gives a weak smile. “I know that now since we’re talking, unless this is a dream, or some purgatory shit then I’m screwed”.

You chuckle at his dazed rambling and it makes his weak smile a little stronger as it spreads. Amusement looks good on you. Pretty. “There it is”, he says. Talking about your little smile.

There’s a stretch of silence, and it’s contemplative for Jax. Flashes of the incident from moments prior running through his mind. He’d just met Galindo for the first time, shook his hand, exchanging pleasantries. They’d talked business and at the end all parties seemed happy with the results, but it made him wary. How well everything was going, something somewhere was bound to go wrong, and yeah maybe he was a bit too pessimistic in the moment but it proved him right. The Sons and The Mayans were riding back to the lodge when the Lobos attacked and he can’t remember much after that, just feeling more than alive and then a little ways from death. His father calling him and then his mother, and he almost answered. He’s glad he didn’t.

“I’m sure you know as much as I do, you see a lot of shit when you live this life. Seen more guys than I can count take a bullet, and more times than none I’ve been the one to give it to them”. He’s quiet, contemplative. On the rise of something that resembles an epiphany. “After a while they just become faceless y’know, nameless, just kill #52 on someone’s list. That’s what it felt like, I was about to be on somebody’s fucking list and that shit is scary”. He turns to you then. “And then the next thing I know I’m in here, with your pretty ass standing over me saving my life. I thought I was in heaven”.

You roll your eyes, it’s delirium from the blood loss, making him say things he doesn’t mean. “Even with a bullet wound, flattery gets you no where Teller”.

“Tell me what does”.

———————————————————

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 & 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

He’s warm under your skin, heartbeat a sweet song that pulses a quiet steady rhythm into your ears. It’s a comforting thing, soothing and mellow like the fiery cool blend of a setting summer sun.

You feel his hand, cool rings caressing the nape of your neck. “You awake baby?”

You move against him, to let him know that you are and a hand pulls gentle at your chin. “Let me see you darlin’ ”

Your body pulls up atop of his, bare chest moving along his and toward him so that you’re face to face, legs tangled together. His hands reach to caress your face, touch a gentle flame that burns to light your skin. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in the morning for weeks, the club stealing him away every moment it could, screwing around with the days you’d set aside to see each other. He grins, loving the dim set of your sleepy eyes. “Hi”.

“Hi”, you say. Tone rasped, sleepy.

There’s a glimmer in his stare, a dazzling sparkle that lives just over the grayish blue of his irises. You don’t identify it, what the warm glint means, for fear of being wrong, but somewhere inside, you know it’s love. It looks to pure to be anything else. He’s grinning again, all nostalgic like. “I was thinking just now, about that day when you patched me up. Best day of my life”.

You scoff. “You almost died”.

“But I got to meet you”.

You’re shaking your head at how lovey dovey he’s being. “Always with the flattery”.

“I’m serious, I fuckin’ love you. More than I ever thought I could”. He rolls you both over easy, his lean build on top surrounding you, fingers still caressing idly against your face and yours drawing along his tattooed back. He kisses you, patient and deep, as if to savor this moment. Staining his memory with the soft pliant flesh of your lips, the airy moan that resonates from your chest, and the lulling skim your nails give the gold of his hair. Forget the Irish and their guns, the Cartel and their H and everything that isn’t this. If he could, he’d stay with you here. Just like this. Forever.

He’s at your neck now, teasing you with tongue wet kisses and stingless nips, but something comes to mind. A wary thought that’s bugged you for a while. “When are we gonna tell my father about us. I want you to meet him”.

He looks to you, confused. “You don’t wanna tell your brothers first?”

“Ezekiel already knows. Found out the first time we met back up to see each other”. You’d thought you’d been sneaky enough that night, leaving after everyone fell asleep, but Ezekiel was always a couple steps ahead it seemed, following you out of Santo Padre a few hours to a bar where you’d met up with Jax. The conversation with him was easier than you expected, but still he was wary, and how couldn’t he be. You were his baby sister. He’d worry till his last breath. “... and I told Angel a couple of weeks ago. Couldn’t really get out of explaining how I had your rings laying around”. You couldn’t remember much of what that admission to him entailed, besides the look of disbelief he had, and then the screaming, and then eventually the forced calm of his expression when he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. It was still unbelievable to him, you weren’t that little girl anymore, no matter how much he wanted you to be.

You were grown, beyond capable of making your own decisions. But boy did it scare you having to tell Felipe.

“Whenever you want to tell him I’m ready”.

His sureness makes you smile, wide and bright, laying a kiss to his rosy lips. “I love you too Jackson”.

[quokkacore]

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee​ for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday. 

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00. 

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak. 

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM] 

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY 

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM] 

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear 

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late 

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid. 

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me. 

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range. 

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life. 

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly. 

[7:57 AM] 

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took. 

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School. 

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.” 

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation. 

  A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.” 

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement. 

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.” 

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon. 

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking. 

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored. 

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him. 

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you. 

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry. 

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.” 

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front. 

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since. 

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her. 

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today. 

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

 “I don’t like her, Yeeun.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark,  Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken. 

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.” 

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club. 

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you. 

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice. 

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?” 

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.” 

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled. 

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately. 

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?” 

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?” 

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’. 

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.” 

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch. 

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy. 

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time. 

 Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord. 

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends. 

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?" 

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

 The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!” 

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me 

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving 

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months. 

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung. 

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung. 

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history. 

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since. 

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything. 

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration. 

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to. 

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel. 

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face. 

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also. 

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college. 

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing. 

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!” 

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss. 

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either. 

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only. 

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters. 

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked. 

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—” 

 The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit. 

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here." 

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things. 

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious. 

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together. 

“Perfect.” 

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things. 

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed. 

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?” 

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!” 

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.” 

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?” 

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.” 

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out. 

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry." 

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me." 

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change." 

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult.  You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?" 

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year." 

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal." 

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist. 

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether. 

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly. 

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed. 

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

 “Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.” 

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them. 

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was. 

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before. 

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped. 

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him. 

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered. 

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came. 

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground. 

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!” 

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault. 

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station. 

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could. 

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up. 

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs​ @crescentjen​

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

For One More Hour or One More Day

Dukeceit Week Day 6: Horror/Comedy

Remus and Janus work in IT, and Remus never fails to make Janus' life a bit more exciting than it should be. Janus wouldn't have it any other way.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 1416

Warnings: swearing, typical Remus-levels of implied sexual content. 

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[06032021 Network Node Down- 172.12.203.1 - Dee Why ]

Janus stared at the next ticket in his queue. He didn't even have to look at which tech wrote it. He just knew. He picked up his phone and dialed. 

“'Sup, DeeDee?" 

"Because they use ancient technology and refuse to upgrade, that's why." 

There was a beat of silence on the line. Janus didn't need to see him to know Remus was grinning like a maniac. 

“Oh, JD, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Remus said finally. His voice was laced with barely-contained glee. 

“Uh-huh, sure," Janus replied dryly. He watched on his screen as an incoming call diverted from his in-use line. "Do you want to clarify for me, in excruciating detail, what, exactly, it is that broke this time? After all, if it's something I can fix from here, it would save the company an awful lot of money. And you know how I love saving this company money." 

“You don't feel like taking work calls either, huh?" 

“Ree, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

-

[06142021 CRITICAL | Device failed Availability and Latency checks - Dispatch Requested]

Janus sat in his truck for a few minutes, cross-checking the address across his e-mail, Slack, and the ticket itself. And yeah, they all matched. This wasn’t a repeat of that time Remus had changed the address on the ticket from 96th St. to 69th St. as a joke. 

(Janus had almost gotten mugged. He was still a little salty about that one.)

But this time, all the addresses matched. The problem was, he was parked in front of a restaurant instead of the usual office building, and that just didn’t seem right. He opened up Slack on his phone. 

Janus D’lyre: Are you sure the address is right?

Remus Rey: Yeah, it’s right.

Janus D’lyre: It’s a restaurant. 

Remus Rey:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Janus D’lyre: Are you positive it’s right?

Remus Rey: I just write the tickets, Dee, I don’t do a background check. Just go in.

Janus sighed. He got out of his truck, hefted his tech bag over his shoulder, and went inside.

It was a nice restaurant. Very fancy, with a goddamn chandelier hanging over the front lobby. Field engineers weren’t required to dress in a suit and tie, but Janus did by habit- and he was glad he did, because he would feel like a horrible slob standing here in jeans and a polo.

“Can I help you?”

Janus looked over to the host, standing at the counter with a bright smile that only looked 52% faked.

“Yes,” Janus answered. “I’m here about the network issues?”

“Oh!” The host- his name tag read ‘Patton’- brightened up a bit. “Yeah! Remus is waiting for you, this way!”

“Remus is what?”

It was too late. Patton had already darted around the counter and off into the dining area. Janus sighed and, regretting every life choice leading up to this exact moment, followed.

Sure enough, Remus was waiting for him. Patton led him to a quieter area of the restaurant, where Remus was sitting at a table. Well, sitting was a generous way to phrase it, because in reality, he was tipped back on the rear two legs of the chair, combat boot-clad feet up on the table. He jumped up eagerly at the sight of Janus, and somehow managed not to fall backwards and crack his skull open. 

“Hey! You made it! Thanks, Pat!” 

“No problemo!” the host replied with a grin before heading back to the front counter. Janus briefly considered that he might be having a fever dream right now.

“Remus, what the fuck?” 

“Told you it was the right address!”

Janus glared. “That is not what I’m ‘what the fuck’-ing you about.”

“I mean, I’d prefer me fucking you-”

“Remus.”

“Well, you work so hard, DeeDee,” Remus said calmly, as if he wasn’t standing in the middle of the fanciest restaurant on this side of town, dressed in his usual tank-top and leather vest combo and probably mashing dirt into the plush red carpet, and definitely doing something that should get him fired. “I thought you could take a break, and we could have a nice dinner.”

No, he wasn’t doing something that should get him fired. He was doing something that should get them both fired. 

“You’re joking, right?”

“Kinda a lame joke.”

“Remus, you had me dispatched to a random address for a fake problem, to have dinner with you on company time?”

“‘Course not, who do you think I am?”

Janus did not dignify that with an answer. He turned to walk away.

“Jannie, wait!” Remus darted around the table to get in front of him. Janus stopped, and glared. “This is Roman’s restaurant! It’s not a random address, he’s an actual client.”

Janus’ glare lessened. Ok, sure, they did have some smaller commercial clients. And sure, Remus had mentioned his brother’s restaurant was using them as tech support now after a bad experience with a different company. But- “It’s still a fake problem, Remus.”

A shit-eating grin spread across Remus’ face. “Nah. I unplugged the router.”

Janus snorted in a totally dignified manner. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“...Well, I suppose… I’d better investigate the issue. Couldn’t be solved remotely, hardware problem and all.”

Remus held out a hand. Janus took it, and let Remus lead him back to the table.

“Great, cause I already ordered!”

-

[06192021 Switch is problematic. Unable to get into the switch || Serial No. 111-0203-2018]

Janus very calmly cleared the ticket, set his work phone to away, pulled out his personal phone, and sent Remus a text. 

Jannie-D: I know you’re upset I didn’t let you fuck me last night. Get over it. 

Remster: i will not 

- 

Virgil Caligo: yo are u and remus like good?

Janus D’lyre: We had a small argument last night. Why?

Virgil Caligo: [image attached]

Janus sighed. Virgil had sent him a screenshot of a ticket update Remus had just posted.

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘The device is not only unresponsive to simple ping requests, but is being kind of a jerk about it. 100% package loss, a tragedy. Device was confirmed to be connected to a working power source, but they all say that, so who can really be sure. Dispatch requested, please confirm maintenance window. Actually showing up would be great, too.’

Janus hastily typed a message to Virgil. 

Janus D’lyre: Did you take that one?

Virgil Caligo: ya. logan didnt see dw

Janus D’lyre: Thanks. You can transfer it to me, I’ll take care of it. 

Janus leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. What a comedy of errors this day had been. It was the last time he’d forget he and Remus had a date night planned, that’s for sure. 

- 

Remus sighed when a priority ticket popped up in his queue. He was having a grand time ignoring his other queues in favor of sculpting a rather elaborate dick out of the green Play-Doh he kept at his desk, but he really did not feel like getting bitched out by Logan for missing a priority ticket. Grumbling to himself, he stuffed the Play-Doh back into its tub and opened the ticket. 

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘Likely a hardware bug. Possible remote fix with reset and reconfigure. Device information missing from online records. Please check file and update record.’ 

Fuck. Remus hated pulling files. What a pain. He trudged his way upstairs to the records room, which was always dark and depressing because nobody ever went there because who the fuck used physical paper in 2021?

But when he unlocked the door and pushed it open, the light was on. And every surface was covered in flowers.

“What the fuck?” Remus asked the flowers. They didn’t answer. But, at the small desk near the door, there was a stack of green boxes from his favorite bakery- and on top of that, he saw an envelope with his name on it. Eagerly, Remus tore open the envelope. 

Inside, he found a single sheet of Janus’ fancy stationery paper, the kind with the little holographic snakes along the edge that he only ever used for special occasions. And on that paper, one single sentence, penned in Janus’ elegant, flourishy handwriting: Ok, you can fuck me tonight.

- - -

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘I take it back, the device is no longer being a jerk, and I love the device very much.’ 

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 52

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut

"We fucked up."

"No, we didn't."

"We had Peter. Now we don't have Peter."

Loki's eyes were completely dark from a spell letting him see through Barbara's, but still he waved toward the completely-not-suspicious building complex in front of you. "But we found him again. That surely counts toward something, right?"

"We lost the alien pin too."

"Which we also found, if memory serves," Loki shrugged, as if the search hadn't taken the two of you the better part of an evening. Who knew searching through half of New York and visiting places it might've been dropped could be so time-consuming?

The weather was pleasant, the air growing warmer as the seasons continued to change. It was one of those days where everything felt brighter, despite how disappointing the reality might be.

"I'm still voting for arson," Loki said, assessing the tall fence surrounding the area. An area which crawled with people trying their hardest not to look like agents of some super-secret government facility, and failing rather miserably.

"You might not have noticed, but buildings nowadays have systems preventing fire from spreading."

"Do these systems work against magic fire too?"

"How am I supposed to know? Do I look like I spit magic fire on a whim?"

"You did last week," Loki muttered. The memory was still fresh.

"Wow, so now I'm the bad guy, and not the sneaky little bastard that ate all the cupcakes I left for-"

Barbara came back, flying on quiet, if a little filthy and decomposed, wings. Loki blinked twice, shedding the spell connecting him to the bird. As much as he didn't mind the heights, Loki had to admit he wasn't a fan of the sharp turns and rather random drops Barbara's flying pattern involved.

Loki pointed to one of the buildings further inside the complex. The red, evening sun hit the countless windows with blinding intensity. "The bird thinks the boy might be there."

You looked at the long stretch of road leading to the complex, like a carpet laid out specifically for you, but the crowds of agents working in the area leading to it made you cringe.

"I still vote arson."

"Why don't we just walk in, though? I mean, it was SHIELD themselves that contacted us, right? It should be okay to just… pay them a visit without sneaking around like… well, like villains. No offense."

Loki frowned. He didn't look convinced. "I like sneaking around, though. It keeps me away from trouble."

"If that’s true, how did you get banned from the Moon twice?"

"Touché. Lead the way then, love."

The way took you down the asphalt road, busy with cars rushing both ways. Despite their past issues, Loki couldn't help feeling a little bad for the agents. For all the grandeur and importance they always described their life to hold, Loki's imagination kept on showing him pictures of ants in their little nests, crawling in their endless, pointless patterns.

The ants seemed to fall into a state of shock rather abruptly after laying their eyes on the two visitors to their nest. Some of them just stood there, looking after the figures marching right to the gates, while others ran in a seemingly random direction.

"That worked out better than I thought," Loki admitted when all the space around you cleared.

Barbara perched on top of the gates, screaming on top of her rotten lungs. The security guards looked at one another and then at the approaching god. Their hands went to their guns. Loki took that as a compliment.

"I know this might surprise you," Loki said, "but we are here to talk. Fetch us your Agent Cauldron, and be quick about it."

"Coulson," you whispered.

"Whatever."

*

"No matter how many times you ask me, the answer will stay the same - I don't know," Peter groaned.

His back hurt from sitting on the same, incredibly uncomfortable metal chair for hours, and the lights of the small and a little outdated office were starting to make his head throb with an upcoming headache. Or maybe the reason behind it were the endless questions to which he wished he know the answer.

Agent Coulson looked at the photos on the desk between him and the boy. These were nice pictures. If he were more sentimental, he might've put them on a fridge or maybe to the clipboard on the wall to his left. They were definitely worth taking a look at least once a day - it wasn't often one had a chance to look at a god and an ex-assassin, completely drunk, being led by a teenage boy on a spider-thread.

Peter glanced down at them too, and scowled.

"Yeah, well, we've met and hung out together, but I don't know where they are now. Sir, if I knew, do you really think I'd willingly stay behind?"

The agent didn't answer. He moved very little, in fact. Peter was unsure whether it was a part of some special, super-secret interrogation technique, but it was working. To make things even worse, the metal chair he had been given was making sitting still a nightmare. 

"That's a fair point, Peter," Coulson nodded, "but do you think I would be pressing you so much if two of the most dangerous people on this planet weren't currently on the run with an alien artifact of unknown origin that might've been recently used to damage our Moon?"

That was a fair point too, Peter had to admit. He might've even grown a little worried after hearing such news, if only it all didn't sound so exciting.

"So you DO know what happened to it, right?" the boy leaned forward, with eyes shining with excitement. 

Agent Coulson sighed.

It was a small,  almost invisible display of all the emotions boiling inside of him that he'd never show. He knew better, and had far too many years of experience to allow that. Still, the situation was beginning to wear on him, especially if he spared a thought or two to consider what the two people that should absolutely never go off radar, could be up to at this very moment. 

Last time Loki visited Earth, he led an alien invasion. Last time Coulson met you before you hesitantly joined forces with the Avengers, you'd already put two bullets in Tony Stark and were on the way to making it three.

Coulson allowed himself a moment to thank his hair for already thinning out or he'd be losing it in a handfuls. 

And the worst part was, he actually believed the boy.

He had clearly helped with sneaking you through half the city and into his apartment, but there was no evidence of him helping you out too. Wherever Loki and you were, Coulson was sure he'd hear about it soon enough. He might even let the boy go, and monitor him long enough to see if you'd show up. 

The decision wasn't an easy one, but the agent was left with very limited choices. After all, how likely was it that the two of you would just show up?

The phone vibrated on the desk in front of agent Coulson. He picked it up.

He blinked. And simply said, "Yes."

Peter did not like the absent look on the agent's face. He'd seen far too many movies not to recognize the moment the power shifted in the room. Just in time for something bad to happen. It wouldn't be a problem if it stayed on the screen - Ned and him would freeze with the popcorn halfway to their mouths in anticipation of what was to come. But here, in reality, far from the safe spot on a couch, Peter was painfully aware of how much he didn't want to know what was about to happen next.

Unfortunately, whatever powers weaved through the lives of people, deciding their fate and luck, rarely listened to young boys in their judgement. In fact, they listened to old agents even less, but that was something Peter was unlikely to ever find out.

Peter twisted on the chair biting into his backside, and looked back to the thick, metal door. He hadn't realized it when he had been brought inside, but the door looked like it could take a few shots from a gun and remain unscathed. 

Peter was not sure what to do with that information.

The door in question decided to finally open and reveal the reason for the sudden tension. It didn't even creak, so the god walked in in complete silence. You followed him, not as quiet, but just as unexpected.

Your face lit up when you noticed the boy. "There you are!" 

Peter looked at the agent. The agent looked at Peter.

"I know you're probably not going to believe me, sir, but I swear I had nothing to do with this."

The agent had no doubt that the boy was the least likely person to ever manipulate the god of trickery and lies, or the almost-ex-assasin into anything, but he didn't say a word. He only raised an eyebrow and asked, "To what do we owe the pleasure?", as if there was anything pleasant to be found in the room. But lying was not solely a domain of gods, as all the agents in the world would probably agree. 

And Coulson was a very good agent.

"We recently lost a boy, but it looks like he's just been found. Thank you for taking care of him."

"It was a pleasure," the agent smiled. "Although I can't help but worry if you have lost the pin too?"

"We wouldn't dare," Loki lied smoothly with an even more charming smile.

The god of trickery waved his hand and produced a pin seemingly out of thin air. Whether it was only a clever trick or an actual spell was something agent Coulson would never know, but for once he didn't mind. The pin felt heavy and looked just as the files described, but whether it was the real thing would only be revealed once a detailed analysis was completed. 

Still, it somehow looked like the deal was fulfilled. Coulson would be lying if he said he'd placed a bet on that outcome.

Peter sprung out of the chair the moment you waved at him to go. The agents and armed officers waiting behind Loki and you on the corridor shifted with unease, their fingers laying on triggers. A small crowd eyed every move made in Coulson's office, which was to be expected - it was not every day a facility such as this one was visited by a god.

Especially one with a rather problematic history of attempted world domination.

"If we may, we'll take our leave now." Loki bowed stiffly.

"And what about the 'favor' you insisted on as payment?"

Something cold and ancient flashed in the god's eyes. "All in due time."

[hereformcdonaldshonestly]

Hello there I love your work is it possible for me to request. kirishima, izuwu, bakugo and todoroki getting hit by a boddy swap quirk and now there stuck in their s/o body for a week and vice versa.

💞💕hope you are having a good day don't forget to stay hydrated 💙

Thank you! Remember to drink that H20 everyone!

(Y/N)- Your Name

(L/N)- Your Last Name

Fluff 💖

Body Swap with S/O

Ejirou Kirishima-

Anytime you hung out with your boyfriend Ejirou, or Kiri as you usually called him, you two would mainly cuddle or sleep. “Hey pebbles, could you imagine if we swapped bodies for the week?” He asks, you laugh. He sits up, “I’m being serious! What if we swap bodies, what would you do?” You sit up slowly, looking at him with a confused look. “Hm, well first I would see how your quirk works!” You start, he smiles. His quirk was simple but yet fascinating to you. Whenever it came down to it, it was definitely much better than your quirk of gigantism. Or basically turning yourself into a giant with giant like strength.

After that night, you woke up with an horrendous headache. You slowly blink, to get the sleep out of your eyes. When you did, you seen Kiri’s messy dorm. Obviously you were confused, but you thought you fallen asleep in his dorm. When you sat up, stretching, you saw yourself in the mirror. You immediately screamed, “oh shit!” You scream, getting the attention of everyone down the hall. “What’s wrong shitty hair!” Bakugou yells, you can tell he was woken up from that. “Yeah bro, what’s wrong?” Denki says as well, you look horrified. “I- No way I’m Kiri right now!” You exclaim, the guys looked confused and said, “uh yeah you are.” Thats when you hear a scream and walls breaking. Oh no, please tell me he didn’t discover your quirk.

As you and others ran out, you seen your body grow into a giant and accidentally knocking over walls. “I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Kiri says, Aizawa is trying to get him to stop and honestly it was a failed attempt. So that’s when you see his scarf unravel and he gets wrapped up, or you technically. “(L/N), with me now.” He says, already fed up. You follow behind, desperately trying to explain the situation. “Ejirou not now, I have to deal with (Y/N) right now.” He says turning to you, “but Mr. Aizawa, we have a problem!” You tell him, panicking. He sighed, taking you and Kiri into his classroom, “explain.” You and Kiri look at each other, “woah I look that good!” Kiri said, you laughed while Aizawa rolled his eyes. “But seriously sir, we woke up like this!” He exclaims, you nod in agreement.

After some failed attempts at explaining, it came to conclusion that you two were pranked by this one kid who had the body swapping quirks. Turns out the kid had something against Kirishima for a stupid party he threw, but then again you weren’t expecting it. The effects lasted about a week, a very long week. All the teachers made sure you didn’t go to class or really do much so you don’t get the other person in trouble for something stupid you did. It was definitely a major memory you couldn’t forget, but Kiri made it so enjoyable. He would mess around with your quirk and actually taught you how to use his! There is no other person you would rather switch bodies with.

Izuku Midoriya-

You had the body swapping quirk! You could swap bodies with anyone at any point, but the bad thing is you can’t choose how long you stay in that body is randomized. You and your boyfriend Deku were in his dorm. You were laying on his bed while he was writing something in his notebook. “Babe, you realize one day you’re going to run out of pages right?” You ask, you hear him laugh. “That’s why you get more! Plus I want to learn more about your quirk!” He says, you smile. It’s amazing to see how he gets interested in your quirk.

After talking, you both decided to swap bodies. “Are you sure Deku? I don’t know how long it’ll last.” You say, anytime you did this, you always stayed cautious. He nodded his head and grabbed your hand. You closed your eyes and that’s when the process begun. It stung, that’s one of the main reasons you tried to do it little as possible. But once you can get it mastered, you’ll be powerful. You both hit the floor, for what felt like hours when in reality it was only a minute. Deku rubbed his eyes, now in your body, looking down at himself. “Woah! No way!” He says, looking at you, who is now in his body. You looked around, moving green hair out of your face. You laugh as you see how excited he is. He immediately grabbed his notebook and started to write about the experience.

Everyone knew you switched bodies, for the main reason of everyone heard you and plus he still acted like himself, but in your body. Once your body was in use of the quirk, it was basically quirkless so that other person can’t do anything. As time went on, you were wondering when you were going to switch back. The record time was 1 day, 5 hours, 33 minutes, and 52 seconds. This time it was already much longer, anytime you stayed in a body for a long amount of time you felt anxious and confused. “You can’t change back?” Deku asked, trying to calm you down. “No! I’ve been trying!” You say, trying to take deep breaths. He rubs your back, “it’ll be okay honey, I promise.”

He stayed by your side that whole time, especially when the effects hit you hard. When you woke up again, that next morning. You felt normal, as if you were yourself again. You were in your own dorm, wearing your own clothes, when you looked in the mirror, it was you. You felt as you could of cried tears of joy, you ran out of your dorm going to Izuku’s. Before he even got a chance to say a word, you hugged him tightly. “It wasn’t that bad being me was it?” He asked, you shook your head no. But he understood, it is a huge pressure plus he was even feeling the side effects. After that, you didn’t try that experiment again, you would in training but only when you were able to somewhat control the amount of time you were in that body.

Katsuki Bakugou-

You two have been dating for a while, anytime there was a mission you went together. You fought together, and protected each other. There was no buts about it, it was so Bakugou could be there for you no matter what. It was sweet, expect when it came to certain villains who would target one of you specifically.

This time, it was the villain named Rapid Doctor. He was a medical student whenever he first started being a villain, then he can cause people’s bodies to switch rapidly so that’s how the name Rapid Doctor came into being. “Ha! You think you can stop me?” He yells, his voice booming. Katsuki immediately grabbed you and put you behind him. You had the quirk of dark shadow, you could summon a dark shadow to help you fight. It’s better as defensive but, you still fought anyways. “You won’t get away with this!” You yell, that’s when he hits you and Katsuki with a beam. You both fall back, hitting the pavement. “Damnit!” Katsuki yells, you look over at him.

Wait a minute, you don’t remember falling off to the left where Bakugou did. That was your body, you glanced down at yourself, seeing you were in Bakugou’s. “Bakugou, Wait-!” You say, trying to get his attention before he gets up. But it was too late, he was already trying to fight back. “Damnit, why isn’t my fucking quirk working!?” He yells, you immediately got up and yelling back “He switched our bodies! You have my quirk!” Rapid Doctor laughter was booming, it could be heard all through out of the city. “What!?” Katsuki stops and looks at you, before you get a chance to say anything, the villain hits him and throws him across the pavement. You felt a fire in your hands, you started to use his quirk and throwing explosives at the villain. Once others got there and took it over, you ran to Bakugou. “Please be okay, please be okay.” You whisper to yourself, over and over again.

Thankfully he was, but on the bad side of news. You guys were stuck like this for around a week, it was definitely tougher to handle his quirk than yours. “Dumbass, how does the shadow thing work?” He asks, looking at his, technically yours, hands. You laugh and give him a run down, after a week you woke up in your own body again. Bakugou was happy that he was in his own body again, but it felt weird not having you around all the time. This is what started the tradition of spending nights with each other for majority of the week!

Shoto Todoroki-

You and Shoto out for a date! It was a rainy date, so he had his jacket covering your head as you ran across the street to get inside. “Okay! How about we try something new!” You say, looking at the menu. You both were trying this new Sushi restaurant in town, you never saw anyone there so you both decided why not try it.

As you sat down, ordering, you came across something on the menu that was definitely odd. “Hey babe, look at this.” You say pointing to it, it was a sushi roll that had colors of the galaxies, like blue, purple, pink, etc. “Hmm.” He says in response, reading it. You read it off, “the sushi roll perfect for the perfect pair, this will cause you to learn more about each other.” You look up at him, “I say let’s try it!” He nods and smiles in response, whenever you ordered, the rolls came out quick. They had a smell of lavender and a blend of sage, whenever you both took a bite, you don’t remember much after that. All you remember is you went to your own dorm.

That next morning you woke up in Todoroki’s dorm, you sigh, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. When you looked over at Todoroki, he was- wait what? He was in your body, that can’t be right. When you looked down, you realized that you were in his body. Oh my god, that sushi roll! You grab his shoulders and shake him until he’s awake, he yawns and looks at you. After a moment, realization hits and he sits up quickly. “(Y/N), why are you me? And why am I you?” He asks, clearly panicking. “I have no idea! All I remember is those sushi rolls!” You exclaim, he grabs your hand. “What if it was those rolls? Maybe they put something in there.” He says calmly, thinking about it. Soon as you guys got up, you were dressed and headed off to the sushi place. Whenever you got there, it was gone!

“I- What?” You say in confusion, almost breaking down. “We’re going to be like this forever!” You say, starting to cry. He grabs you and pulls you into a tight hug, “shhh, it’s okay.” He says quietly. After that, you both decided to wait it out since there was no trace of the restaurant or the owners. After a week and a half, you finally woke up in your own bodies. You finally understood each other to a level that you couldn’t imagine of reaching. That made your relationship so much stronger, and now you stick to your regular sushi place.

I hope you liked this one! I was trying to come up with ideas for it 😅

I hope you have a great day! :)

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression  Ep 43 - Man who was living in attic above the supermarket ceiling arrested.

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression.  Joe san, Tasai san, welcome. Ok, lets get straight on with it. Tasai san...

T: Yep.

K: Could you..?

T: Well, we have some unexpected news from America this time. Some attic news.

Y, K: Attic news?

T: A man who who living above the ceiling of a supermarket without permission has been arrested. A man named Matthew Hammer had been found to be living above the ceiling of a branch of the chain store 'Raley's' for one week.  He was stealing food from the supermarket and eating it. So as to the background to his arrest, a night-shift staff member saw a leg poking out through the ceiling, and obviously thought, oh my god, there's someone there. They reported it straight away and the police arrived with the police dog. They sent the dog up to chase the man out, but the dog also lost its footing and it got stuck.

J: It sounds like a joke!

T: Yeh, its like a manga or something. So, in order to rescue the dog, a rescue team from the fire station was dipatched. After rescuing the dog, they arrested the man. What do you think of this sudden news?

J: Well, its really American...its hard not to laugh.

T: Its a crazy idea, right?

J: It is, you would never think someone would live up there.

K: But if you think about it...he could've  continued living up there forever.

J: Yeh, yeh he could, he'd have ample food. Um, its kinda like that Korean movie that was released a while ago, Parasite. Living in a rich person's house without permission, and getting up to things while the owner was out.  In reality this guy is sneaking into the supermarket, living there and helping himself to food.

T: Yeah, and apparently he'd also made a kinda simple-style living room above the ceiling.

J: Did he?

T: He'd put whatever he liked up there..a sofa, a tv...

K: Oh, the supermarkets over there sell all sorts of stuff, don't they?

J: Yeh, they do.

T: Yeah.

J: In America, well..in Nevada, its pretty big right? Thier supermarkets are also big. They are a lot bigger than Japanese supermarkets. So, from that perspective, I bet the attic space is pretty big. He would have had a lot of space to live in. But still, it seems like people might try to copy this idea. Im kinda interested in this leg sticking through the ceiling part.

K: Yeah, like why was his leg sticking through the ceiling?

J: Maybe he didn't realise it was poking through.

T: Its pretty shocking though right? If you suddenly see a leg poking through the ceiling.

J: Yeh, you'd think, 'What is that?!'. Well, at least you could say its good that no-one died.

K: It was dangerous for the police dog too, wasn't it?

J: Yes, it was.

T: It really was.

J: It was dangerous for the dog too.

T: Hm, the police dog. But why ???*1.

J: I wonder what this guy was eating though?

K: It says he was eating ready made deli food.

J: Oh, deli food?

T: What kind of thing is American deli food?

K: They do have it.

T: What is it like? Do they have stuff like deep fried pickled mackerel?

K: Ah, no, they don't have that kind of thing. They have like fried chicken, or salad, or meatballs etc.

J: He must not have had any kitchenware up there, right?

K: Well, he probably didnt need it. But they will have had it in there.

J:Hm, yeah. He probably didn't need to cook. He will have had all-you-can-eat potato chips.

T: Yeah.

J: Well, they recently had the presidential election in America..so from that perspective, well, the gap between rich and poor in America  is a big problem. So for people who can't eat, they have to figure out a way to keep themselves going.

T: Yeah, but why did he start living there? He could have gone in and got what he wanted, then left.

J: It was probably the easy option. Rather than sneaking in and out. He figured he could live pretty well there. It seems like the security weren't checking as far as the ceiling each time.

T: It looks like he didn't ever want to go outside.

K: He might have gone outside sometimes though.

T: Oh, ok.

J: A bit like a guest .

K: But he didn't steal any money from the cash registers, did he?

J: Right.

T: Yeah.

J: When you think about that, it seems quite a reasonable thing.. haha

T: Yeh, like living together with the supermarket, haha

J: Im not sure whats worse in regards to shoplifting...he wasn't stuffing his pockets and making a run for it,  he was just taking what he needs to eat upstairs.

T: He was probably watching who was shopping downstairs.

K: Ah, yeh.

J: Additionally, he was coming down at night to get deli stuff, so it will have been the unsold stuff. If you think about it like that its quite eco-friendly.

T: He's a good guy.

J: Haha, a good guy.

T: Matthew Hammer, age 35. He's a good guy.

J: He is. Rather than stealing the cash register money, he eats the leftover food.

T: I think Kami might have something to say about this story.

J: Yeh, so do I. Hello, are you there?

Kami: Yes, Kami speaking.

K: Haha, 'Yes, Kami speaking'? What is he saying? haha

Kami: Aren't the ceilings in American supermarkets pretty high up?

K: They seem high, don't they?

J: I think so, yeh.

Kami: So in that case, its a good job both the police dog and the criminal didn't fall.

J: Certainly, if he'd have reacted badly there could have been a big accident.

T: Yeh.

Kami: Thats right. Its good that the dog was helped with its task, but it didn't complete its mission at all, so it will end up having to be retrained.

J, K: Ahh.

T: But you'd never imagine a police dog having to walk above the ceiling. haha.

K: Yeah. It wouldn't know where was safe to walk.

Kami: I feel sorry for the police dog.

J: But you think the dog didn't complete its mission, so..

Kami: It will be made to retrain. Don't you feel sorry for it?

J: Well, yes, of course.

T: Hehehe

J: This is the kind face of Kami showing.

T: He is kind sometimes.

Kami: Because I'm a compassionate god.

J: Haha, you're calling yourself a compassionate god?

T: He is kind sometimes.

J: Kami, what do you think about the offender, Matthew Hammer? Whats your judgement of him?

Kami: Its difficult, but, hmm..what can I say? haha.

J: Haha, he laughed. 'What can I say?'

Kami: Well, he's innocent, right?

J: Innocent?

Kami: Innocent.

T: Incidentally, Matthew Hammer has been charged with robbery, and obstruction of police. If he's found guilty he will get at least one year in jail, and at most ten years.

Kami: What did he do to obstruct police?

T: Probably by refusing to get down from the attic or something.

J: Ah, he might have been violent, yeh.

Kami: Well, he's guilty then.

J, T: Hahaha

T: Kami's decision power is pretty weak.

J: His opinions are too casual! 'Well, he's guilty then!' haha. What do you mean by that, Kami?

Kami: Well, a crime is a crime.

J: So Kami also thinks he's guilty.

Kami: He is guilty.

T: Yes, unfortunately, he's guilty.

T: By the way, what type of deli stuff do you guys like? Joe, Kaoru?

K: Deli? *To Joe* Do you eat supermarket deli stuff?

J: I absolutely do.

K: Me too.

J: What do you like?

K: I like..those Korean veggie mixes.

J: Ahh

T: Yeh, like Korean carrots and bean sprouts, or green veggies.

J: As for me, Im trying to be careful with food, but usually the leftover, discounted stuff is fried food, isn't it? My local supermarket puts the half price stickers on at 9:30. So, i get there for 9:30, but so does everyone else. Im on the offense and defense. As soon as a sticker goes onto any non-fried item, everyone is straight in there! There is so much energy.

K: Haha

J: Everyone is there slightly in advance, and just waiting.

T: You too, Joe?

J: Yes, me too.

T: Thats the type of thing that appeals to young women.

J: Ojikyun?

T: Yeh.

J: This?

T: Probably, haha.

J: Thats it! haha.

T: Everyone, try to imagine Joe waiting like that in the supermarket.

J: Its pathetic! At 52 years old, waiting for the half price off stickers in the supermarket! But, still, you have to wait, right? Kaoru, don't you try to get those? The half price off items?

K: I've never tried to.

J: But if you saw it was half price off you would buy it though, wouldn't you?

K: Yeh, if it was the same thing as what I wanted.

J: Right? Absolutely.

K: What about you, Tasai?

T: I like that pickled mackerel. Stuff like that.

Sorry for mentioning that again.

J: Thats all you've said today.

K: He's hinting that to us.

T: I love the stuff.

J: Do you?

K: Ok, shall we finish? Please subscribe, thank you very much.

*1 Couldn't catch.

[sanzoumon]

**FIRE FORCE FIC PROMPTS**

Note: A good chunk of these are smut prompts, featuring various ships (mostly BL ships). There are noncon prompts at the end, clearly marked where they start. I threw in some purely platonic SFW prompts for those of you who are into weird stuff like that lol

Please, if you like any of these prompts and are going to write them - tell me. Also some of these prompts are super detailed while others are like one sentence long.

Ships Included:

Konro x Benimaru • Joker x Benimaru • Viktor x Joker • Burns x Joker • Shinra x Sho • Shinra x Arthur • Charon x Haumea

————

-PLATONIC-

- Arrow & Sho. Sho gets upset and cries into Arrow’s chest. He’s so upset he calls her “mommy” without realizing it.

- Charon & Haumea. “Unconditional love” is what his thoughts told her. What she doesn’t understand is why. No matter how much she tries to find out, the answer alludes her.

- Shinra & Sho. Bed sharing and cuddling.

-SHIPPING-

Konro x Benimaru

- Teenage!Benimaru confesses his love for Konro when he’s drunk after having drank Sake for the first time.

- D/s. Benimaru loves giving up control to Konro when they have sex.

- Rumors about them being in a relationship spread, leading to so unsavory comments about Konro regarding their age difference. (Ex: suggesting Konro took advantage of Beni when he was young; that it’s creepy since Konro was an adult while Beni was a child when they first met; etc) Needless to say, Benimaru gets pissed anyone would dare think that about Konro.

- Doppelgänger!Konro x Doppelgänger!Benimaru. Hell’s a little nicer when you have someone you love to have sex with. Even Doppelgängers feel love.

- Doppel!Benimaru manifests and wreaks havoc because his Konro is dead. Now he wants Konro to replace him and he won’t let Benimaru get in the way of that. (Doppel!Beni is Yandere for Konro [both if them] because that’s how people perceive Benimaru to be... and turns out it’s correct, Benimaru IS Yandere for Konro).

- Mourning. Doppel!Benimaru finds out his Konro is dead. All of Adolla quakes from the outburst of his sorrow.

- (past noncon) Teenage!Benimaru tries to thank Konro in the only way he knows how - with his body. Konro is, reasonably, freaked out and finds out why it is Beni thinks this is appropriate.

- Benimaru is a bit of a submissive masochist. Konro is happy to help with whatever Beni needs.

- Their first time together wasn’t gentle. It was passionate, overwhelming, aggressive, heated, rough. All their pent up feelings for each out came rushing out violently and they were both happy to get caught up in it. Benimaru never felt so content in his life as when Konro was manhandling him that night.

- Benimaru does something special, and embarrassing, for Konro. Puppy-play.

- Konro is a bit of a voyeur. Those pictures he took of Beni for the calendar are not the only pictures he has of him. For Konro’s birthday, Benimaru supplies him with extra special pictures that Beni took of himself. As it happens, Benimaru is an exhibitionist.

- The world is on fire and Benimaru has nothing left to give. Before the flames take him he has to tell Konro he loves him. (Sad fic, death fic)

Joker x Benimaru // Benimaru x Joker

- They each have their own shit to be frustrated about. They take it out on each other when one of them needs it. It’s fine, they can take it.

- It’s not love. They don’t even like each other. They irritate each other. But they sure do love angry fucking each other.

Viktor x Joker

- Joker loves how fascinating Viktor finds him.

- Unlike any other partners he’s had, Viktor treats Joker gently when they have sex. He’s not used to it and gets flustered.

- After killing the captain at the Holy Sol Temple, the reality of the situation hits him. The man who violated him for years, who continued to haunt his nightmares into adulthood, was dead. All of a sudden he needs to see Viktor no matter what. (Hurt/comfort)

Burns x Joker

- (past noncon) Joker cries during sex and Burns really doesn’t know what to do about it.

- 52 has a crush on Burns and comes onto him one night. Burns can’t bring himself to turn him down, knowing what 52 goes through, and opts to make him feel good instead.

- Joker mourns Burns’ death.

- After all these years, Joker has daddy issues. It doesn’t surprise Burns’ in the slightest when Joker calls him “daddy” in bed. What surprises him is how much he enjoys being called that.

Shinra x Sho

- Sho has zero sense of personal space and Shinra’s been having some very uncomfortable thoughts about his little brother.

- Sho is in love with Shinra and doesn’t understand why everyone says it’s “wrong”.

- “Let big brother take care of you.”

- (past noncon) Arrow confesses to Shinra about all the terrible things the White Clad did to Sho since they abducted him. When he got old enough to start questioning things, they broke him. They did it again after Shinra’s Adolla Link with Sho (which in turn Shinra feels guilty for). [this one could be romantic or brotherly but either way hurt/comfort]

- Shinra thinks Sho is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. An angel too perfect for a devil like him.

- A little bit of brotherly playful roughhousing, making up for all the years they lost, leads to something much more heated. Neither stops to think about it, it feels too good to finally be together.

- Shinra likes it a lot when Sho cries out “big brother” while they make love.

Shinra x Arthur

- A stupid argument about something pointless ends in Shinra pinning Arthur to the floor. Before either knows it they’re grinding against each other, kissing harshly.

- (attempted noncon) Doppel!Shinra tries to force himself on Arthur when Arthur confronts him about the real Shinra’s whereabouts.

- Arthur knows this isn’t the real Shinra, but there’s something alluringly taboo about being taken roughly by a devil like this.

Charon x Haumea

- The world is about to burn, but before she fulfills her duty she wants to show Charon how thankful she truly is for his devotion to her all this time. She figures she’ll kill two birds with one stone, rewarding him and indulging in pleasure herself.

-NONCON-

Mob x Benimaru

- Before ending up in Asakusa, being found and taken in by Hibachi, Benimaru lived on the streets of the Tokyo Empire. There’s a good reason he resents the Tokyo Empire and doesn’t like to leave Asakusa. A child alone on the streets is dangerous and he was so weak back then. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be cornered in some alley and sexually assaulted, left in the trash once they were done with him.

- Benimaru doesn’t know how this happening to him of all people, why he’s unable to fight off his attackers. They’re mocking him, degrading him, humiliating him, and they’re forcing him to get off on what’s being done to him. At some point he starts crying, begging for them to stop, which only makes them enjoy his torment more.

- Benimaru is drunk off his ass and someone decides to take advantage of the situation. How often do you get the chance to have Asakusa’s “King of Destruction” begging for you to fuck him?

Mob x Joker

- 52 still isn’t learning his lesson. To break him further, and to reward the rest of the shadows for their hard work and dedication, the captain has them punish 52 by letting them do whatever they want to him (nothing that will cause permanent injury, at least). 52’s entire week was spent as a plaything for them all, torture, rape, humiliation, degradation, all manner of creative punishment. It came damn close to breaking him.

- The criminal underworld isn’t a nice place. Sometimes Joker messes with the wrong people and he got taught painful lessons, no different from what the captain did to him.

- Forced Burns x Joker. The church calls it a bonding ceremony. Burns knows it’s just their way of attempting to break 52 by having the one person who hasn’t mistreated him hurt him. If Burns refuses, it won’t end well for anyone involved. So he forces himself on 52 and hates himself for it.

Mob x Sho

- (Extreme underage) Sho was just too tiny and cute. Only 5 years old. So soft, so sweet. Naturally, they had to beat that out of him.

- Haumea x Sho. She dresses him up like the beautiful doll he is. She plays with him like the toy he is. She violates him like the object he is. She makes him cry, cry out for his brother, his mother, Arrow, anyone, like the child he is. She makes him spread his legs for other White Clad members and then hurts him when he gets his dress dirty, like the useless slut he is. She leaves him hard, needy, alone for hours, until he’s begging for release. She tells him if his brother could see him now, he’d be disgusted by him. He agrees.

Kurono x Nataku

- Kurono loves every pathetic thing about Nataku. Or it’s as close to love as he’s capable of. In his own twisted way, he shows his affection for the boy.

- Nataku is such a masochistic boy, it’s impossible for Kurono to resist him.

Doppel!Benimaru x Konro

- Doppel!Benimaru manifests and infiltrates Company 7 while Benimaru is away. He tricks Konro into fucking him.

- Doppel!Benimaru promises to leave Asakusa alone in exchange for Konro fucking him.

Doppel!Konro x Benimaru

- Konro wasn’t there when the Demon Infernal showed up. Benimaru attempts to fight it on his own but the demon gets him on his back and starts ripping off his clothes. Benimaru is too confused to register just what’s happening until he feels white hot searing pain splitting him in half. He’s afraid, too shocked and in too much pain to do anything. In spite of it all, he gets hard. The demon notices and its grin gets wider. He remembers a burning hand jacking him off and feeling liquid fire inside him. Before he blacks out he hears Konro call out his name. When he wakes, the demon is gone and Konro is hurt.

Doppel!Benimaru x Benimaru

- Doppel!Beni captures Konro and forces him to watch while he rapes Benimaru. Beni can’t fight back because he and his Doppelgänger and too evenly matched and Konro would be hurt. All the while his Doppelgänger taunts him and Konro, describing how “his Konro” (the Doppelgänger) used to fuck him - finding all of Benimaru’s sensitive spots easily because he had them too. Tells them how it’s obvious to everyone how in love they are, that everyone suspects they’re together, because Doppel!Konro has been fucking Doppel!Beni’s brains out since he was a teenager. In spite of the situation, Konro ends up getting hard.

- Benimaru is haunted by dreams of hellfire. In them he always sees himself, a version of himself engulfed in flames. He’s had these dreams since the night before he discovered his powers. In them his other self violates him. It hurts. The dreams always feel so real, even in the morning. Nevertheless he chalks them up to just being nightmares until the discovery that Doppelgängers are real.

- They were evenly matched but his Doppelgänger blindsided him. His head is bleeding, Asakusa is burning, he doesn’t know what’s become of Company 7, and his damned Doppelgänger takes time out of his destruction to rape him - just to add insult to injury.

NOTE: If you’re unaware what “mob” means, it’s a doujin term basically meaning their only purpose is to assault whatever canon character. It’s not an OC, self, or reader insert. It can be an individual nameless character or a group of them.

Also yeah you can clearly tell the kinda stuff I’m into and I don’t care. I put all these prompts in one list because laziness.

May or may not update this list as need be! Enjoy the naughty stuff I know y’all really want as well!!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The first sign; Jack Kline x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well it’s been awhile since I updated my Rock angel series and for good reason too because here is where things get DARK!! As you’ll see in the taglist below I’ve started putting trigger warnings cause in this part it involves stalking, dog attacks (some people fear dogs so I wanted to be respectful). Now the next chapter after this will REALLY be insane so I hope you all buckle up cause you’re in for one hell of a ride.

Also face cast for Steve I put the gif for Joe Keery, and for the Rock Angel’s manager just look up actor James Woods (aka Hades from Hercules).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queendeakyy​

@queen-paladin​

@queensdivas​

@wormzteef​

@geek-and-proud​

@starswin​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@dj-lowkey​

@naturalswifty89​

@isabella-bby​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

_______________________________________________________

Everyone thinks it won’t happen to me, that I’m immune to such evil.  No one thinks they’ll ever experience such a thing but you’d sadly be lying, or in complete denial.  At least everyone goes through this type of evil at one point in their lives.  And for celebrities, it’s a living hell because the world will only watch with a bucket of popcorn and enjoy your pain and suffering.

The only ones you can depend on are your family.  And don’t ever say they wouldn’t understand because they will.  Had I not told my family about what was going on—you know what fuck it they were forced into this.  But even so if they didn’t know what was going on, this part of my story would’ve ended very, very, very, very differently.

*2 months after the tribute concert*

I hadn’t slept in a week.  I was exhausted with trying to put the final touches on my tribute album for Freddie.  My manager James Woods was really putting the heat on me with trying to get this album up so that I could ring in the money for him.  Wait first let me backup just a tick and explain some things first.

When I first transferred out of EMI and went to Hollywood Records, my manager at the time was a man known as Desmond Roberts.  He was a generous, kind man who saw my potential as a female musician and like Miami, pushed me to do my best.  He was a family man as well; at the time he had become a grandfather for the first time at the age of 52.

But earlier this year he had to retire because it was by law of the company that all representatives must retire by the age of 65. With that my new manager was his young and vibrant VP James Woods.  James is—well let’s just say he’d make a better car salesman than a recording manager.

A man born and bred in the heart of Boston, he’s the kind of man who sees his own vision and wants other people to execute it for him. Hell he’s even been pressuring me to go more into Pop music as that is the rising fame of music now.  Artists like Madonna, Gwen Stefani, rising star Christina Aguilera, and Mariah Carey.  He wanted to push me to going in their direction.

But I reminded him of my original contract that I signed on between Miami and Desmond.  That my image was to never, ever, ever under any circumstances be changed. Yes he even tried to make me change my stage name into the Spicy Angel (yeah that didn’t sit right with me).

To put it frank—my current manager is a stubborn, two-headed, forked-tongue, snake in the grass.  Sleezy, and can make some vulgar comments either towards me or some of my roadies.

But the one step he took too far was when he hired his own nephew to be my PA (he claimed that he was trying to help out his sister). At first I was against it but with that pleading and begging persuasionistic tone of his, for some reason I ended up agreeing and his nephew Steve Harrison became my new PA.

Steve Harrison.  He was the same age as Jack, had deep brown eyes, a fairly handsome face, but his crown jewel was his hair.  He always bragged and fussed about his hair.  Brown and fluffed up beyond anything, like cotton candy.  Silky and moosed to no end.  Wow and I thought I was bad when it came to doing my air before a show.

Now Steve definitely knew his way around the recording station.  Made sure that every song I recorded sounded to perfection, always sought to my every need, ensured that for upcoming tours I was given updates on the schedule, and he even took my calls and wrote them down for me.  He kept his work profession throughout all of 1991.

But when the summer of 92 came around, things began to change.

As I said before, I hadn’t slept a week.  The Freddie Mercury tribute album was taking longer than the company expected.  That’s because I wanted to make sure every song, especially the cover ones that Fred had given me legal rights to do, were perfect.

I was at the controls listening to my version of Somebody to love when the door opened behind me.

“I would’ve thought her royal highness would’ve gone home?”

“Perfectionists never stop. I learned that from the best group of men I know.” He took the empty seat next to me and presented me with a cup of coffee.  I softly thanked him and went back to listening to my song.

When the last vibrato rang out on the word ‘love’, Steve sighed and said.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s shit!” I complained. “God why did he give me such responsibility to do these songs I-I-I—not I’m even worthy to do his songs. At least not without him.”

“This version is the best. Better than I’ve ever heard it been played. In fact……I think you’re better than Freddie Mercury.” I snapped my head towards him.

“Freddie Mercury was and will always be a genius. His voice is unlike any other performer’s and his style of writing will forever go down in music history as the best damn thing the world will ever know! So don’t you ever say that someone is better than him. Especially me!” I shot up from the chair, it rolled back and slammed against the wall and I turned towards the wall with my arms crossed over my chest, and breathed heavily trying to calm down.

“I—I’m sorry. I was just speaking my opinion. I—didn’t know how much you cared about him. He…..must’ve really meant something to you.” He spoke softly.

“More than you’ll ever know.” I muttered as I fingered the bracelet Fred gave me as a birthday gift. “And I’m sorry Steve I—I didn’t mean to shout. I’m……just exhausted and stressed. With your uncle—”

“Hey, I get it. Uncle James can be a real pain in the ass at times.” I turned towards him and saw him standing a few inches away from me. “Hell one time when I was 16, I had asked him if I could take his mustang for a test drive and he told me ‘kid you so much as even leave a fingerprint you’re as dead as a doornail and I don’t care if you’re my nephew’.” The two of us laughed at his uncle’s impersonation.

“And I thought I was the only one with a douche uncle.”

“Oh trust me, you think he’s demanding at work? You should see him round the holidays.” I softly laughed.  That’s when I felt his finger slightly graze against the back of my palm.

My heart stopped and that’s when I noticed that he had gotten a little closer to me.  Closer and closer his face came but I quickly got out of his way and said.

“Excuse me, I gotta sign off this track and ship it off by tomorrow morning.” I grabbed Steve’s chair and went straight back into my work.  As I was fiddling around with the switches and buttons, I could feel that he was standing right there beside me.  I tried to ignore him and focus on my work but his lingering presence grew too much.

Like a moth to the flame.  Silent but fluttering around too close.

I turned to say something to him, that’s when his lips suddenly crashed with mine.  My eyes widened and my body froze for a moment before my brain snapped back into reality.

I pushed him away and slapped him across the face. Standing up and my chest heaving in so many mixed emotions, but the one main emotion going out about me was anger.

“What the fuck Steve!? Why did you do that!? You know I’m happily married and have children!”

“I—I’m sorry I just…..I’ve always been a fan of yours and I just….I’m sorry. Please don’t tell my uncle. You know as well as I do what he’s like. He’ll beat me to a pulp if he finds out. Please Angel I beg of you, don’t tell him.” His eyes going fearful and tears shined at the corner of his eyes.

I wish I could say that I told him that I was going to rat him out, have him fired even but—I didn’t.  He’s right I did know what it was like to have an abusive uncle.  Now while my uncle never really touched my physical, he did have his temper and would throw things at me just barely missing me (that mostly happened when he was on the bottle).

“Only if you promise me you won’t do shit like that again. And never speak of this to anyone.”

“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He said as he crossed his heart with his finger.  I narrowed my eyes at him and grabbed my purse.

“Take the day off tomorrow. Then come back on Monday to work. Professionally.” I emphasized the last word and he nodded and I walked out without another word.

I wish I could take it all back.  That I had fired him right then and there, if I had then what would eventually come, wouldn’t have happened.  Or at least not gotten to the scale that it did get to.

*3 weeks after the kiss*

I was on the Late Show with David Letterman doing a television interview about the upcoming album as well as my tour coming later in the year.

“So Rock Angel your upcoming album ‘Fly High Mercury’ is said to be unlike your previous albums is that right? It also was the one that also took you the longest to make correct?”

“Yes it is.”

“Care to explain?”

“Well as you can tell by the title this is a tribute album to Freddie Mercury.” The audience applauded.  I nodded and swallowed a lump in my throat.  “Some of the songs are what I’ve written but another half of them are Queen songs that Freddie himself gave me legal rights to make a cover to. In fact they were some of my favorites.”

“Now how long did it take you to make this album?” David asked me.

“Well the songs I did, took roughly a couple of months but when—Freddie passed away I took a few months off to grieve and then as you all may have seen I was a part of the tribute concert so in total almost ten months.”

“Wow ten months.” I nodded. “And you said Freddie gave you the rights to some of Queen’s songs to cover?”

“Yes.”

“How did it feel to have that kind of pressure on you?”

“I’ll be honest it was tough. How-how do you compete with someone like Freddie Mercury? His voice and musical talents were unlike anything anyone’s ever seen or will ever see most likely. And when he asked me to do some of Queen’s works, particularly the songs he himself had written, I felt like I was going up against goliath and I was David. But—Fred has his reasons for why he does what he does, and—he must’ve felt like I could help embrace his memory further by introducing a new audience to some of Queen’s work, especially their earliest songs.” The crowd applauded.

“Well said, well said. Freddie will truly be forever missed. When we come back we have Kurt Russel joining us and then after that the Rock Angel will perform one of her hit songs from her recent album Fly High Mercury which is now available in stores. The Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline everybody!” the crowd applauded and David and I shook hands with each other as his theme song played us out on the commercial break.

I went backstage to change out from my black sequin interview dress and into some regular but dressy performance clothes.  A black leather jacket, a white blouse, tight jeans, and some high-heeled black boots.

“Oh angel.” I internally groaned.  Speak of the devil.  James Woods soon came into my dressing room without a single care in the world (he’s lucky I’ve learned to do quick changes otherwise we’d have a problem). “Now darling please remind me again why you’ve declined Donald Trump’s hotel gig? He’s offered plenty of money for your performance especially since it’s his son’s birthday that day.”

“When I went to talk to him he also made me an offer I simply had to refuse.” I shuddered. “He’s a pig and an upright asshole with no respect for anyone but himself and his precious hotel business. God help us if he ever becomes President.”

“Fine. Instead of adding to the profit we would’ve gotten from this, we’ll take it out of your next pay how bout that?” I glared at him.

“You really wanna go toe to toe with me regarding money? Go ahead. Just know I’ve got the best lawyers in all of London on my side and they’ve been good to me for 10 years. So you better pucker your lips and do some serious arse kissing to the judge because they’ve won every. Single. Case I’ve ever had to do. From false stories to paparazzi stalking.” I stared him down even though I only came up to his chest.

Even through those cold, greedy eyes of his, I saw that he was afraid.

“Ahh court cases are a waste of time and a waste of profit. Now go on out there and give them a show baby cakes.”

“Never call me baby cakes.” I trudged out of my dressing room with my red special in hand and headed back towards the stage to sing my song.

After the show ended, I was back in my hotel room in Manhattan.  I had just gotten done with my shower and soon coming into the room was Jack with some late night takeout.

“Chinatown special for the Rock Angel.” I smiled and splayed myself across the bed as he came toward me with the food.

“Mmm room service and a cute delivery boy. I am one lucky girl.”

“Well then Mrs. Kline, do I get a special tip for my services?” Jack played along with a grin.  I smirked and placed my hand on the back of his head and brought his lips towards mine.  His hands soon came to my waist as we separated but I kissed him again.  Jack hummed in surprise. “A double tip? Well then, guess I need to be the delivery boy more often.” I giggled and took my food out of the bag.

“But serious babe, thanks for getting the food.”

“Hey no problem, anything for my beautiful rock star. I know that with your schedule firing back up, you don’t have time for a normal meal like we did before.”

“Did you call your mom about the kids?”

“Yep. Kids are safe and healthy. Well Little Jack had a slight fever but he was better within a day thanks to mama’s secret chicken noodle soup. I know that thing saved my life as a kid.”

“Well then she better……” a knock was soon heard at the door. Jack and I looked at each other confused.  He stood up from the bed and answered the door.  I held my robe tighter around me and soon I heard the door slam shut and Jack soon came in with a bouquet of a dozen roses.  “Did you order those?”

“Nope. But I’ve got a feeling who did.” He turned as he glared to the room opposite of our suite.

Well of course I told Jack about the kiss.  I know what it’s like to have been cheated on so there was no way in fucking hell I was gonna keep this a secret from Jack.  As you can see he has not taken it well, in fact he’s grown very angry and jealous when Steve gets mentioned.

“Let me see the card.” He tossed the bouquet down on the bed. I sent him a glare and went to pick the card out and I opened it up.  And low and behold it was from Steve.  Even though it didn’t have his name on it, I recognized his handwriting anywhere.  He wrote.

Fabulous performance (as always).  A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Your secret admirer and #1 fan

“You should’ve fired him.”

“Oh so you’re saying this is my fault!?” I snapped.

“No that’s not what I’m saying!” Jack snapped back at me. “I just…..” he exhaled deeply trying to release his anger. “I don’t trust him anymore. Not after what he did. In fact ever since he’s kissed you he’s been sending you a lot of stuff. The flowers, your favorite German chocolates, he even gave a teddy bear to our daughter! I’m telling you something about him now is just……” I walked up to him and embraced him.

“I know love, I know. I don’t feel comfortable around him too. But—he is James’ nephew and unfortunately he wants his sister to get off his back with this favor.”

“That shouldn’t matter! If he makes you uncomfortable you should just fire him and not even worry about what that sales talker of a manager tells you.” He is right.  It shouldn’t have to go on like this but unfortunately the business world isn’t on my side when it comes to choosing my PA’s, I was thankful enough to keep my touring roadies and not get some rookies or 40 year old perverts who get high or drunk.

“The likes of a woman in a men’s workforce. I wish I could Jack but I can’t. Legally anyways. Look I’m exhausted right now can we please just go to bed?”

“Alright. But we will come back to this. (Y/n) I’m only stressed about this because I don’t want to lose you. What if—”

“Hey!” I put my finger of his lips. “Don’t you dare think like that. I know celebrities are always the first to die when it comes to crazed fans. But I swear to you Jack Kline, I will not be one of those singers to die at the hands of a so called ‘fan’. I’m your lioness.”

“And no one can break you down.” We pressed our forehead together and just stayed like that for a good long moment.  I then softly kissed him and went to change out of my robe into my nightdress.  Jack stripped down to his boxers and we put our takeout in the mini-fridge by the bed and turned off the lights before cuddling close together.

*September 8th, 1992*

It was Kelly’s first day of 1st grade.  Jack and I couldn’t believe that our little girl was on her way to 1st grade.  Of course to me it was the first day of primary school but still it was a big day for her.  So Jack and I were sure to be there to see her off but sadly both of us had a long day today so we couldn’t go pick her up.

I was busy prepping for my upcoming tour while Jack got backed up with the car dealership.  But thankfully Jack’s cousin Jared (who was working a case at the time) volunteered to go pick Kelly up after school.  Now this school was at the top with their security, only those who were approved by the Parent or Guardian could pick up the child (which was good with us).

So Jack and I made sure to list the family members down in order so we went from Kelly Kline, Misha Kline, Roger Taylor, Brian May, John Deacon, and Jared and Jensen Walker as the adults to pick Kelly Kline up from school should Jack and I not be available.

It was late in the afternoon, around 3:30ish and I was talking with my tour manager Phillipe about where each performance was gonna take place when the phone suddenly rang.  One of the assistants answered it and she said.

“Hollywood Records how may I help you?” there was a pause and suddenly her voice went frantic. “Whoa, whoa, whoa wait a minute slow down. Slow down who are you wanting to talk to?” I turned to her confused. “Okay hold on I’ll get her,” she turned to me and said as she held the phone close to her breast, “Mrs. Kline someone wants to speak to you. Says his name is Jared Walker.” I immediately shot up and took the phone and said frantically.

“Jared what’s happened?”

‘I-I-I-I went to pick Kelly up like I said I would, but when I got there they had said you had already sent approval of someone else to come get her!’

My heart stopped.  They say it’s every parent’s worse nightmare come true, but it’s never fully real until it happens to you.

I dropped the phone as Jared’s voice echoed through the speakers calling out my name.

“CALL THE POLICE! CALL JACK! CALL KELLY’S SCHOOL! CALL ANYONE!!” I screamed frantically.

The search for my daughter was—one of the worst things I ever had to go through.  Just who in the hell would know where exactly her school was? Not only that but who got my approval to sign off for her release?

I was frantic to the bone.  I kept pacing with anxiety as every fiber of my being was buzzing with all kinds of emotions.  Jack and Jared tried their best to calm me down but I wasn’t going to be calm till I had my baby in my arms.

After an hour and a half grueling search, the home phone suddenly rang.  I went up to the phone and answered it.

“Hello?!” there was silence at the end of it for awhile till finally his voice came up.

‘Lose your little cub?’ my eyes narrowed and now only rage filled my body.

“Where is she Steve?” I sneered.

‘Just meet me by the spot where the first action sequence of Terminator 2 was shot.’ Then the line went dead.  I hung up the phone, grabbed my keys and dragged Jared by the arm towards my car and we raced down the highway.

When we arrived at Bull Creek, I told Jared to stay in the car while I handled Steve.  I got out of the car and right there at the very track where the first action chase scene of the film took place at.

Just ahead of me was a blue Ferrari leaning against it was Steve Harrison.  And through the windows I could see Kelly playing with her favorite doll that she took with her to school, without a care in the world.

“So glad you finally made it Angel. Didn’t think I’d expect to see you to take my advice so quick.”

“Open the door.” I sneered.

“Gee not even a thank you?” he joked.

“I don’t have time for bullocks right now Harrison! Now open your bloody car door and give me back my baby!” he went over and opened the door and once Kelly saw me, her smile on her face grew wider.

“Mummy!” she cheered as she got out and raced towards me. I immediately knelt down and picked her up in my arms.

“Oh my baby girl. Oh thank god you’re safe! Are you okay? Look at me. We were all so worried about you.” I said as I kept kissing all over her face.  She groaned and tried to get me to stop.

“I’m fine mum! Mum stop it stop kissing me! Mr. Steve said you changed your mind about uncle Jared coming to pick me up.” I glared over to Steve and said.

“Honey go in mummy’s car and wait there with Uncle Jared.” I kissed her one last time and she did as I asked her to.  I walked closer to Steve as he kept talking.

“Lovely reunion. See I knew you’d appreciate what I’d done. After all as your personal—” I sucker punched him hard across the face sending him down to the ground.  Blood even dripped down his nose. “Wow. Wow!” he scoffed. “I-I-I-I know that girls could punch but that…..that was—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” I snapped at him.

“You should be grateful. I did you a favor. I picked up your daughter from her first day of school.” He tried to reason with me.

“You had no legal right too! You kidnapped her!”

“Kidnapped?! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa wait time out!” he stood up and wiped his bloody nose. “Wow head rush. Okay hang on a minute. You were incredibly business with the tour manager so I knew you wouldn’t be able to pick her up. And of course Jack……” he sneered out Jack’s name with anger and jealousy. “He works now right? I mean about damn time too, can’t be the house husband forever right?” My glare deepened, “Anyways, so no one else was there to pick up sweet, little Kelly so I volunteered myself to pick her up. Didn’t want her staying at the school all by herself, now did we?”

“She wasn’t going to be alone we arranged for Jared to pick her up!” at that Steve’s face turned to shock as he said.

“Oh. Well—this is awkward.” Oh he was an incredible actor I’ll give him that.

“What is wrong with you Steve? What were you trying to accomplish here?” that’s when his eyes darkened and grew cold.  His voice even changed to a possessive tone as he walked closer to me.

“Jack doesn’t deserve you. A farm boy like that? No you need a real man at your side. Someone who gets the business, someone who is always by your side. I know who you are (Y/n) Kline.”

He tried to grab my chin but I clenched his hand in mine and dug my nails into his skin.  My hand shaking with rage as I stared him down.

“Is that what you think? You think by doing all this you actually believe I would leave Jack for you? You’re even more delusional than Jack painted you. Now I see it for myself.” I threw his hand down and backed away from him. “A wise man once said to another slime like yourself, ‘you just see what you want to see’. Next time you even touch or go near any of my kids, I swear to you there won’t be a courthouse that your uncle can bride with what I’ll charge you for.” I turned and walked back to the car and took Kelly home.

Of course I wish I could say that was the last time I ever saw Steve’s face again.  But due to lack of evidence in the fact that Steve had given a false document allowing him to take Kelly, he wasn’t charged with kidnapping.  

Plus his uncle got involved and swindled with his business talk saying that I was under a lot of pressure with the upcoming tour and that police action at the time of Kelly’s disappearance wasn’t necessary.  He also emphasized that Kelly wasn’t harmed in anyway so it’s not like his nephew was an evil person.  So the police believed James’ story and no charges were filed and Steve was a free man to do as he pleased.

Jack and I reinforced the school and even gave them Steve’s picture saying that if he ever came into the school again asking for Kelly again, they were to call the police because Steve Harrison does not have access to take Kelly out of school.

Little did I know that things were only going to get worse after that day.

*October 3rd, 1992. Jack’s POV*

It first began with the constant phone calls to the house. The phone was constantly ringing and everytime I picked it up, there was no one there.  Just heavy breathing and then they’d hang up.  It happened for hours on end, even at some odd hours in the night.

Soon enough I had had enough and decided to unplug all the house phones and I got me my first cellphone.  If anyone in the family wanted to reach me, I told them to call by my new cellphone and that’s where I was talking to my Angel at.

‘Have the phone calls kept coming?’

“Unfortunately yes they did. But I unplugged the house phone so hopefully whoever it is gets the point and drops these crank calls and finds someone else to torment.”

‘I don’t know Jack. Maybe I should just come back and forget this tour.’

“No, no. Look, you nearly missed out the Angel-Queen tour back when we first met, I won’t let you cancel this tour either. Besides the world needs their Angel right now.” I assured her.

‘Yeah but—’

“What would he say right now?” I interrupted her.  I heard her softly scoff and I knew she was smiling on the other end.

‘He’d tell me ‘Angel darling stop being so dramatic. There’s only room in this partnership for one hysterical Queen. Plus you’ll get early wrinkles’.’ We both laughed. ‘God I miss him so much. I can’t believe it’ll almost be a year come November.’

“I know. Have you talked to the guys at all since the concert?”

‘Not really. Figure I’d give them some space. They know my team’s number if they want to talk to me.’ I nodded and hummed in understandment so that she knew I was still listening.

“So you made it to Phoenix in one piece?”

‘Yeah thankfully. I’ll give you a call right after the show. Give the kids a kiss and cuddle for me.’

“Oh you know I will.” I said with a smile.

‘I love you Jack Kline; you know that right?’

“Of course I do. And I love you to the moon and back. Have a good show baby.”

‘I will. I love you.’

“I love you infinity times infinity there. Now you can’t say you love me more.” I heard her giggle. “Knock ‘em dead Angel.”

‘I will, bye.’

“Bye.” We both hung up and I deeply sighed.

“Daddy?” I looked up and there was Kelly in her nightdress holding her stuffed lion that her godfather gifted her.

“Hey baby girl, why are you awake?” I asked concerned. She walked up to me and sat down in my lap and said.

“I couldn’t sleep. Can you tell me a bedtime story? You know how like uncle Freddie used to tell me?” I stroked down her hair and said.

“Well, I’m not as extravagant or detailed as he used to make it but—I’ll do my best. C’mon I’ll make you some warm milk and tuck you back into bed, sound good?” she nodded.  I picked her up, set her on the kitchen counter and prepared her some warm milk.

After that I carried her back to her bed and tucked her back under her covers and she took a sip of her milk.

“Okay so, what shall it be tonight? Do you want a story about—fairies?” she shook her head. “Unicorns?” again she shook her head. “Oh how about the story of a beautiful princess who gets saved by a knight in shining armor?”

“No daddy. Do you know the story of the lioness Queen?”

“The lioness Queen?”

“Uncle Freddie once told me a story about the lioness Queen who was raised by evil wolves but soon came on top as Queen of her own pride. He was gonna finish the story of how she would find herself a king but then—” she trailed off and I could see the tears prickling in her eyes.  Oh that Freddie, of course he would tell our story like we were two lions.

“I think I know that story. Now again I may not be as good of a storyteller as Uncle Freddie was but I’ll do my best.” I sat down by her bedside and she cuddled up into her pillow, her stuffed lion in her arms. “Now let’s see……the Lioness Queen had reached the height of her reign. Everyone loved her because of her kindness and loyalty, but she was very much lonely. Sure she had the support of her new family but she still longed for someone she could love more than the family love she had from her new pride. So one day when she was out hunting, she was suddenly ambushed by the no good jackal. Now this jackal had particularly taken an interest in our brave Lioness Queen but she knew to not take any of his bullying. However he had brought his entire pack and they ganged up on the poor lioness.”

“Daddy don’t make it too scary.”

“Right, right, right I’m sorry angel. But the lioness Queen didn’t have to fear anymore. Because leaping from over the tall savannah grass was a dashing, handsome and powerful lion.  He beat the jackals away and told the head jackal to leave and never bother the lioness again. Soon the jackal tucked his tail in like a frightened dog and fled the savannah and was never seen again. The lioness Queen was in debt to the young lion that saved her so she asked him if they could go to the watering hole together to talk and get to know each other more.”

I continued on to tell her mine and (Y/n)’s story of the day we met and fell in love with each other.  Then about midway through the story I looked down and saw Kelly was finally back asleep.  I smiled and kissed her forehead.

“Sleep tight my little lioness cub.” I walked out of her room and shut her door and walked back downstairs.

I walked towards the kitchen and I saw Sammy lying asleep on his doggie bed and Bucky asleep on his.  But as soon as I came in, the two of them looked up at me.

“Hey Buck, Sammy.” Buck grunted as he sat up and came up towards me and sat down.  I ruffled the top of his head. “Okay so what do you say last quick trip outside then time for you guys to get in your pin?” Sammy’s tail wagged as he immediately went towards the backdoor.  I opened it up and he immediately went outside. “Alright Buck come on outside go out and go potty.”

But Bucky seemed tense.  He lowly growled before racing towards the front door.

“Bucky? Buck!” Bucky went over to the front door and suddenly began barking aggressively and very loudly. “Buck! Buck shh! Quiet!” but he refused to listen to me.  He kept barking and barking and barking.  His fangs were out as he raced from the door to the windows.  Growls came out of him and I noticed that his fur was on end.

Okay maybe it’s another dog or a raccoon or something, he tends to do that and we’re trying to break him of that habit.  I grabbed his leash and when he was finally still I got it hooked to his collar and forced him towards his pin.

“Get in your pin now!” he snapped at him.  I got him in his pin and as soon as I shut the door he started whimpering frantically, pacing around his pin letting out bark after bark.  “Shhhh! You’re gonna wake the kids Buck now quiet!” I looked towards the front door and sighed heavily.  Might as well just see just what’s out there.

I grabbed a flashlight and quickly stepped outside. I shined the light in every corner of darkness but I didn’t see a thing.  No stray dog, nor a racoon, a cat not even a squirrel.

“That Buck is crazy sometimes.” It was then I noticed that our trashcan had somehow gone out to the side of the road.  “I thought I brought that in when I came in this afternoon? Damn pranksters.” I left the front gate that surrounded our house and walked out to the curb to grab our trashcan and bring it back towards the side of the garage.

That’s when a loud purr of an engine roared through the quiet streets and bright headlights flashed right towards me.  I heard the screeching of tires coming right towards me and without even thinking I ducked right up towards my driveway and I heard the sound of our garbage can being hit and tossed across the road.

The car’s lights soon turned off and sped off down the street. I panted heavily, my adrenaline now starting to collapse as I began to realize what could’ve happened just now.

Someone was trying to run me over and kill me.  I knew that couldn’t be a mechanical problem cause why would the headlights suddenly come on and then accelerate straight towards me before driving normally down the road?

Only one person came across my mind as to who would go so far as to get rid of me.  Steve.

I called up Jared and using his lawyer expertise he asked me various questions but unfortunately since I couldn’t identify the model of the car clear enough and couldn’t read the license plate in time there was no way for me to truly say it was him unless I could physically prove it.

But after that night I didn’t see Steve again, and I hoped that was the end of it.  Until Halloween came around.

*Halloween night, 1992. 8:30pm*

I had just brought the kids in from our night of trick or treating.  You know I’m glad we decided to allow the kids some time to know the American holidays cause I had to explain this to the guys as well as (Y/n) just what Halloween really was (since they don’t really celebrate it there in jolly old England).

I dressed the boys up as little lions while Kelly went as a witch this year.  We all came in carrying our bags of candy.

“Candy!” Georgie exclaimed.

“That’s right buddy. We got candy, lots and lots of candy.” I told him as I got them out of their little red wagon.

“Daddy, daddy can we eat all the candy tonight please?” Kelly begged.

“You know your mother will kill me if she finds out I let you eat sweets before bedtime.” She whined before giving me her mother’s puppy dog face.

“Please daddy. Not even one itty bitty, teeny tiny bite?” I playfully placed my hands over her face which made her exclaim and shoo away my hand.

“You can have just one. Piece. But that’s it okay?” she cheered and quickly went through her bag and got out a blueberry flavored lollipop.

“Hey daddy? How come we can’t do trick or treating back where uncle Brian, uncle Deacy and papa Roger live?”

“Well sweetie, sometimes other countries don’t do the things we do. And sadly Halloween is just another day for them.”

“They should. Maybe next year papa Roger and I can be Star wars characters together.” I chuckled.

“I think your uncle Brian would enjoy that more than papa Roger.”

“But I wanted papa Roger and I to be Han and Princess Leia. Uncle Brian can be Chewie.”

“And uhh—who-who did you have in mind to be Luke?” I said brushing my fingers through my hair.

“Mommy! Cause she’s brave and strong just like Luke is! Georgie and Jackson can be R2.”

“And just who will uncle Deacy and I be?”

“Well uncle Deacy can be Obi-Wan and you’re C3-PO.” Wow she gives me the nagging droid.

“Oh so you think I’m a mindless philosopher ehh!? Come here you!” I quickly grabbed her and began tickling her which made her shriek and squirm.  “Have me be Luke Skywalker or the tickling continues your highness!” I mimicked Darth Vader’s voice.

“Ne-nevheherererer!” she said through her laughter.  I proceeded with the tickling till I heard the sound of a car engine coming down the street.

My mind suddenly went back to that night when I nearly got ran over.  I set Kelly down on the floor and peeked through the curtains and could see someone standing right beside a familiar shape of a car that I knew well.

“Daddy? Is……everything okay?” I looked down at Kelly before quickly looking back towards the window.

“Kelly I need you to listen to me very carefully sweetheart. I want you to take your brothers and go to mommy and daddy’s room and hide in the closet. And no matter what happens do not come out till I come and get you, okay?”

“But why daddy? What’s going on?”

“Just!” I snapped but clenched my hand tightly and said as I knelt down to her height. “Please Kelly, do as your father tells you. Remember not a word or even let me see you till I tell you it’s safe, promise?”

“I promise.” I hugged her tightly and gave her a kiss and told her to go get her brothers and get upstairs.  I glared at the door and opened it up before closing it.  I walked towards the front gate and that’s when I heard his voice say.

“Well, well, well, Jack Kline I’ll be damned. Still around eh?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me don’t cream your pants.” I sassed bluntly at him.

“Saw that you and the kiddies were doing a little trick or treating. That’s nice of you but umm…..what are you supposed to be? A new kid on the block?” I scoffed.

“What do you want Harrison?”

“What can’t a PA come up to check on his superstar?”

“I don’t know what world you live in but (Y/n) fired you last week.”

“Yeah, you see that-that-that’s…..that’s another reason why I came here. See, I personally am the best and most qualified PA that the Rock Angel could ever have. But while we were in Pittsburg, I get a notice saying that I’ve been fired. Now she never told me why so I thought who is more jealous of me and brainwashing the Rock Angel, than her own husband? So—care to explain?”

“Guess you were dropped as a child one too many times.” I walked closer to the front gate and said in Steve’s face. “She got tired of your advancements towards her.  My wife isn’t like all other rock stars cause she’s been on the end of the cheating stick. And she knows to not put me or our kids through something like that.”

“Really lives up to her angel name huh?” he smart mouthed me. “Let me tell you though buddy boy. We have fucked with each other, and boy is she a freak in the sheets.” Bullshit I know he’s lying.  “We’ve even fucked with each other here at your own house when you were away on business. I mean—who can say no to this?” he gestured to himself.

“You are even worse than we thought. Now do yourself a favor and fuck off Steve before I call the cops.”

“One problem with that amigo.”

“And what’s that? Amigo.” Suddenly I was grabbed by my shirt and a punch went straight through my stomach.  I collapsed to the ground and the gate opened up.  Steve stood over me and he sneered down.

“The cops are working for me.” I was then kicked in the ribs and I watched in horror as Steve kicked the door in and walked right on in the house.

*3rd Person POV*

As Steve entered the Kline residence, a place he had actually been inside a lot with his uncle on the meetings with (Y/n) to discuss further progress with her albums, brandings, etc.  He walked up the stairs and went straight for the master bedroom where Jack and (Y/n) slept.

He looked around as he slowly walked around the bedroom before seeing the closet at the corner of his eyes.  He turned towards it and walked right up to it before slowly reaching for the door.  With a quick flick, the door was opened but no one was there.  He then saw some of (Y/n)’s stuff like her hats and scarves.

He took a red scarf and inhaled it before pocketing it into his back pocket.  That’s when he suddenly heard a thump from the corner of the room.  That’s when his attention went to the wardrobe.  A smirk spread across his face and as he opened it there he saw Kelly, Georgie and Jackson all huddled together.

“Hey kids, whatcha doin in here?”

“Go away! Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!” Steve laughed at Kelly’s empty demand.

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Suddenly he was turned around and a hard punch sent him down to the ground.

“Daddy!” Kelly cheered.

“Daddy! Daddy!” the boys repeated.

*Jack’s POV*

Like hell I was gonna just sit there and allow Steve to take whatever the hell he wants or worse find the kids.  Spitting out some blood I staggered towards the house and walked up the stairs.  That’s when I heard Kelly’s voice cry out.

“Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!”

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Like hell you will! I raced as Steve was talking and immediately grabbed him by the shoulder of his jacket, turned him around and sucker punched him across the face.  My kids cried out for me while Steve staggered to stand up.

He soon began laughing before letting out a hoot.  His nose bleeding from the punch I just gave him as well as his mouth.

“Looks like I underestimated you farm boy! I took you for a pushover but now I see just what that bitch sees in you! Lion King Jack she likes to call you!”

“Get. Out.” I demanded.  Steve chuckled icily and said.

“And what if I don’t?” he spat blood in my face.  I then let out a whistle and said two commands.

“Sick. Em.” Soon running past my right leg Sammy attacked Steve at his ankles tripping him over.  Sammy maybe all sweet and innocent but when he needs to be (especially since Steve’s been around) he knows when someone needs to get bit.

Steve fell right onto his back as Sammy continued to bite and tear at his pants.

“YOU DAMN DOG!! LET GO!”

“You gonna surrender now?”

“FUCK. YOU!” I let out another whistle and soon barking in aggressively was Bucky.  And being a German shepherd he was not holding back.  Sammy released Steve’s leg for a moment and allowed his brother to take over.

Bucky bit Steve’s shoulder and tackled him to the ground and I knew he was biting down harder cause Steve’s screams got louder and more painful.

“Boys come!” the boys came back and stood guard of the wardrobe growling and protectively standing guard over my kids. “You wanna test me again or shall I give them a second chance at a new chew toy?”

Even with multiple dog bites, Steve managed to somehow stand up and he glared with pure hatred at me.

“I’ll—I’ll see to it……that those mutts are put down for attacking me. My uncle will hear about this! And I’ll be sure that you’re put away for a long, long time. I know you guys have no cameras in or outside of this house, so no cameras, no proof.” His sick twisting smirk widened across his face.

He staggered out of the bedroom but I heard the sound of him collapsing down to the ground.  The dogs immediately went towards him but I didn’t hear any snarling or growling, instead I heard happy whimpering.

“Stay here kids.” I told them as I quickly I came out and I was shocked to see standing before Steve with a baseball bat in her hand was my wife, (Y/n).  She panted softly as she dropped the bat and then took out one of our large kitchen knives.

Bucky and Sammy stood guard of the stairs to ensure that Steve didn’t even try to escape and that’s when (Y/n) sneered down at Steve.

“From now on you are no never come near me or my family again. I don’t care what kind of connections you have; we’ve got enough evidence with you in this house without consent and a struggle going on in my very bedroom.”

“Screw you…….bitch.” Steve murmured.  Then I witnessed with my own eyes as my wife took that large 7in knife and slam it right down to the floor, very close to Steve’s dick.  Any further up and she would’ve removed his very identity as a man.

“SAY YOU UNDERSTAND! Say it. SAY IT!!!” She roared down at him.

“I understand.” He muttered quietly.

“You what?!”

“I understand.” He said a bit louder.  Her eyes steaming with hatred and fierce mother instincts stared Steve down as she removed the knife and she looked up to me and simply told me. “Call the police.”

Within minutes the police arrived and Steve was finally arrested. The police took our testimonies and a trial date was set for the 1st of December.

Now as I’m sure my wife as explained I wish we could say that was the last time we’d ever see Steve Harrison in our lives but we underestimated just how fucked up the legal system was here in California.

Thanks to his smooth, fast talking Uncle in trying to bride the judges and the jury, Steve didn’t serve any jail time. Only that he would have a restraining order set against him.  By law he wasn’t to get anywhere within 50ft of (Y/n) or our family.

Steve Harrison was once again a free man.

By the start of 1993, my wife was once again trying to contact the judge, police, and any other law enforcement about taking Steve’s advances seriously.  But all the same they kept turning her down saying there’s nothing else they can do.

That the restraining order will protect her, and if Steve does violate that then and only then could they talk serious jail time for him.

“Well then I want you guys to do one thing for me, the next time you bastards come to this house will be when my body is dead on the ground with a message in blood saying I told you so!” she hung up the phone and sobbed into her hands.

I slowly walked towards her and hesitantly sat down beside her. God I hate seeing her like this, she’s been worrying herself sick over this while still going on with the tour which will resume after this week.

“I—I don’t know what else to do Jack. I……” I refused to allow her to speak again.  I embraced her as tightly as I could and she wept hysterically into my arms.  Bucky and Sammy whimpering at our feet with Sammy licking her feet and Bucky nuzzling his head into her lap.

[platonicavengers]

Pinky Promise

pairing: avengers x teen!reader; platonic!steve x teen!reader; platonic!natasha x teen!reader

word count: 1,772 (hehe told y’all)

warnings: sadness, depression, maybe swearing?? idk i don’t pay enough attention, post-infinity war feels

author’s note: im :) fine :) not :) sad :) at :) all :) also why do i always write angst am i that incapable of letting anyone be happy hahahah help

summary: it’s been a year since thanos snapped his fingers, and you still feel just as upset as you did the day it happened, but steve and nat are there to try their best to help you :)

my masterlist | read it on ao3 | read it on wattpad

One year; 12 months; 52 weeks; 365 days; 8,760 hours; 525,600 minutes; 31,536,000 seconds.

Since it happened. It, of course, being Thanos snapping his fingers, successfully eliminating 50% of life throughout the entire universe. Since you lost so many of your closest friends, your family.

Some people say that it gets easier with time, that eventually, it stops hurting as much. That after a while, the pain just isn't as bad.

But they would be wrong.

It's been an entire year, and for you, it's only seemed to get worse. The pain just grows each day, the loss of some of your favorite people just taking a larger toll on you as the days go by.

And the team could tell. What's left of the team, at least. Even out of the survivors, not everyone stayed around at the compound, as it would just bring back memories of those they've lost.

Tony had gone to live with Pepper and their daughter, Morgan, in a cabin on the lake. Bruce had gone somewhere, you weren't even sure where he was, and the same with Rhodey. Thor left to go establish New Asgard, and you hadn't seen him since. Carol, although technically not an official member of the team, was up in space most of the time, so you never saw her, either. That left only you, Natasha, and Steve.

Natasha was the first to notice. The way you rarely left your room, and if you did, your eyes were rimmed with a red tint, and your cheeks were puffed up. And if she ever got the chance to speak to you, you would only give her one or two word responses, far from the usual energetic and lengthy ones you used to give.

Steve noticed not long after, partially because Natasha pointed it out to him, and partially on his own. He saw the way you always wore sweatshirts or t- shirts belonging to your fallen friends. He heard you crying at the late hours of the night, when you thought no one else was awake.

So the two of them came together, trying to think of any and every way to help you, to take your mind off of everything, even just for a few minutes. But you did know this. You still stayed locked up in your room, today, especially, not even attempting to drag yourself out of bed, knowing that the only thing you were capable of doing today, was mourning.

••

The minute your alarm clock went off at 7 AM, you could already feel the familiar sensation of a wave of tears approaching. You were used to it by now, and just let it happen on its own.

With the sleeves of one of Wanda’s hoodies folded over your hands, you pressed your wrists to your eyes, trying to stop the stinging feeling of the tears. Your attempt was futile, and a steady stream started flowing down your cheeks, onto the comforter below you.

You sighed in frustration and annoyance when the tears wouldn’t stop. It seems like everyone else has moved on already, you thought to yourself, so why can’t I?

You buried your face in your hands and let out a loud sob. You shook your head, slowly lifting it from your hands as you stared up at the ceiling for a moment. You internally swore at yourself, knowing that what you were about to do was immature, but you were going to do it anyways.

“Hey, u-um,” your voice was quiet, hoarse from going so long without speaking, not to mention nasally from all the crying you’ve been doing lately. You brushed your messy hair out of your face, sniffling loudly, “I-I don’t know if anyone can hear me, but I, uh. I wanted to try an-and say something, just in case any of you guys a-are listening right now.”

You sobbed again, swearing under your breath, “Get it together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. You cleared your throat, trying once more to speak, “U-um. I just wanted to say that, um, I miss you all,” your voice broke off, the tears falling faster now, “so much. Uh, I miss you and love you all so much. I would do anything to get a-all of you back here, right now. Whatever it would take, I don’t care. I-I need you all, so badly.”

You cursed at yourself again, much louder than you intended to. Unbeknownst to you, Steve and Natasha heard you. They shared a look, before stopping what they were doing, and standing next to your closed door.

“I’m so, so, so sorry I didn’t do good enough. I tried, as hard as I could. I tried everything I could think of to get everyone back,” your voice had fallen into a low whisper, “b-but nothing worked.”

The pair outside your door felt their hearts break. It hurt them so much to hear you in such pain, and they knew they couldn’t stand to listen any longer. Natasha glanced at Steve, communicating with him through their eyes. Steve sent her a slight nod, knowing what she wanted to do.

The redhead slowly stood up from her squatting position, softly knocking on your door. She spoke quietly, a warm and caring tone laced through her words, “Y/N, sweetie? Could you open the door, please?”

You froze. You hadn’t expected for either of them to try and talk to you. Lately, they had stopped trying to get you to unlock your door, to open up, even just a little, after realizing that you refused to. You stayed silent for a moment, not knowing how, or if you wanted, to respond.

“Please, Y/N. We just want to help you, I promise, honey.”

Natasha’s voice was so calming, with the slight motherly tone coming through her words. You felt your resolve falter for a second, and you contemplated whether to let her in or not. On one hand, you didn’t want them seeing you like this, although you knew they wouldn’t care. But on the other, you so desperately craved comfort, reassurance, especially from those you trusted and cared for so deeply.

“Please,” this time it was Steve that spoke, “we know you’re hurting, and we want to help.”

With his words, you broke. You felt the sobs building up in your chest, and you ran to the door, unlocking and it and yanking it open roughly. You fell into Natasha’s open arms, sobbing. Steve wrapped his arms around you as well, joining the embrace. Your body shook painfully, but the feeling of two of your closest friends holding you so tightly helped soften the blow.

It took you around fifteen minutes to calm down. The whole time, both Steve and Natasha stayed with you on the floor, still holding onto you tightly, occasionally whispering short phrases of comfort into your ears.

When you eventually did settle down, you could feel your body growing tired from your sobs. You slowly lifted your head from Natasha’s shoulder, and she sent you a small smile. She wiped away the tears from under your eyes with the pads of her thumbs, and tucked your hair behind your ears.

Steve shifted so he was in front of you, and he could see your face as he spoke to you, “How ‘bout we have a movie day today, huh? No work, no responsibilities, just hangin’ out and watching movies? Sound good, hmm?”

You weakly nodded, trying your best to send him a smile, but the corners of your lips barely lifted up. He smiled back at you, helping you and Natasha both up from the ground, and the three of you walked together to the living room area.

You sat down on one of the couches, Steve taking the seat next to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, slowly rubbing your arm as Natasha stood in the kitchen, gathering snacks for you all.

As Steve picked up the TV remote, going to put the first movie on, a memory of a day similar came to mind.

“Everybody sit your asses down, it’s movie day!” You grinned widely as Tony shouted at the rest of the team. You plopped down on one of the couches, Steve on your right, and Wanda on your left. You loved having movie nights with the team, as they were a rare pleasantry in a life as hectic as yours.

“Yo, Tiny! Heads up!” Sam called out to you, chucking a bag of popcorn towards you. You giggled as you caught it, quickly ripping it open and shoving a handful of the snack into your mouth.

Steve reached a hand into the bag, trying to steal some of the popcorn, but you quickly smacked his hand, causing him to send you a playful glare. Your eyes widened as you saw popcorn floating out of the bag, but you jokingly rolled your eyes as you turned to your left, seeing Wanda using her magic to grab some of your food. You sighed, a small smile on your lips, “I really can’t have anything around here, huh?”

You were cut off by a loud “Shh!” and you glanced over to one of the other couches, offering a sheepish smile to an impatient Natasha.

You were brought back to reality by a loud shout of your name, and you blinked your eyes a few times, seeing both Steve and Natasha in front of you, worry clear on their faces.

They both visibly relaxed when you looked at them, but their concern quickly returned when they saw your eyes well up with tears, and a sob break its way past your lips.

Natasha wrapped her arms around you, bringing you to her chest and slowly rocking you back and forth, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I-I miss them s-so much!” You stuttered out between sobs.

Natasha felt herself tear up, her hold on you tightening, “Oh, sweetie, I know, I know. I miss them too.”

A few minutes later, Natasha released from the hug, but kept you tucked into her side, running her fingers through your hair. Steve grabbed ahold of your hands, gently rubbing his thumbs on top of your fingers, “I promise you, Y/N, we’re gonna get them back. We’re gonna get them all back.”

You wiped away a lone tear, whispering, “Pinky promise?” You knew it was immature, but you held up a shaking pinky, desperate for reassurance, no matter how childish it made you seem.

Steve chuckled softly, wrapping his pinky around yours, “Pinky promise.”