#a lot of people dismiss phone games but frankly

[catboyebooks]

right, i'm kinda losing my mind here, apologies if this is a mess. the tricky thing with analyzing junko's character is that she's the character who gets to lean on the fourth wall the most, as her role as the mastermind has quite a lot in common with kodaka's out-of-universe role as the author. so i wanna talk both in-universe and out-of-universe about this one.

starting in-universe. i'm sure i've commented on this, but junko has a very different attitude towards the sdr2 cast than she did towards the dr1 cast and this has been fairly obvious throughout. it makes sense. junko was actually friends with her classmates in dr1. that group spent a year in lockdown together, it's definitely implied they were all pretty close. that's part of what made it fun for junko; it was personal. by forcing people she genuinely cared about to kill each other, she was causing herself despair, not just them, and we know that's the shit she lives for. as for the sdr2 cast, well, frankly, i think it's pretty clear she doesn't give two shits about these guys. monokuma frequently gets bored and impatient even when they're literally in the middle of the murder trials, the executions this time have been kinda phoning it in on the psychological aspect (what's the point in breaking this group? she's already been there and done that), and junko has also made it clear repeatedly during this trial that she thinks of them as a bunch of chumps and doesn't care what happens to them at all. she's not even trying to kill the survivors, that's how little they matter to her. in junko's mind this is still about her vs. naegi. when i said earlier that her and naegi's argument felt like a continuation of their argument from 1-6 — it is, that's the point. she's still trying to break him.

the realization that junko has merely been using the sdr2 cast to bait the dr1 survivors into another confrontation with her (not just any confrontation, but one taking place in a VR reality she has godlike power over) reframes the entire game as not really being about hinata and the others at all. combined with the reveal that hinata and co. are former terrorists, this makes you seriously question whether the game will give them a happy ending, or even a bittersweet one. because of the way this game has closely paralleled the first, you go into chapter 6 of this game assuming that everyone still alive at this point is going to ultimately live and escape, because they're the heroes, but now the game is telling us they're not the heroes and the mastermind herself isn't concerned with their fate one way or the other.

junko's claim that the sdr2 cast agreed to this all in advance, tricking the future foundation into sympathizing with them so they could help her execute her plan, is especially troubling. this is a really tough one to dismiss; at this point, knowing so little about what this group was actually like before the memory wipe, we don't really have a way of disproving it. naegi's already reassured the group that junko brainwashed them and he's sure it can be overcome even if they don't keep their memories from VR, but we know that naegi is prone to getting blinded by his own optimism, and he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer... so is his read of the situation actually correct? has the game actually just been tricking us into rooting for the bad guys the whole time? is hinata actually the protagonist of this story?

even though i know how this game concludes, this part of the game still makes me feel like the cast might actually be fucked. i'm sure the first time around when i got here i did seriously consider whether they might be fucked. like, at this point it seems like the final showdown might actually take place between the dr1 trio and AI!junko, and since the sdr2 cast are junko's former(?) allies, it seems very much not guaranteed that they'll get their happy ending or even live through this.

oh god i think i'm gonna have a lot to unpack here.

so then kirigiri tells junko this isn't a game (because she's acting like she's having too much fun, per usual) and junko says, actually, it IS a game, it's a game that started with the killing game i put our class through, and that's why these "chumps who weren't around last time" have been reduced to side characters. we gotta have a logic dive about what that means too, naturally, and hinata puts it together that the killing game was never actually about them. this was all aimed at the future foundation. junko was broadcasting the killing game live to every member of the future foundation via the cameras. sonia's upset because, she admits, she "did a lot of disgraceful things" in front of those cameras. togami replies "you... sure did." i guess you could interpret this in multiple ways but personally i lean towards thinking sonia's been jackin off crazy style all the time in here (there was that earlier joke about her spending a long time in the bathroom that seemed to be implying similar?) anyway i laughed

hinata got told this part earlier, but the rest of the group doesn't know, so the dr1 trio explains that they couldn't intervene sooner because of the virus. up until now they couldn't enter the program themselves, initiating a shutdown sequence from outside the program wasn't working, and while they did consider just cutting power to the VR program entirely they didn't know if it would be safe to do so, so didn't risk it.

anyway. this revelation, that the killing game was never about them at all and they were essentially just used as bait to lure in the future foundation, is pretty upsetting to the group, but junko takes it a step further by telling them they actually agreed to the whole thing in advance. that they agreed to this, and helped her set this trap for the future foundation, of their own free will. naegi protests that this can't be true, but he's clearly never considered it before, and junko calls him naïve for not realizing shsl despair played him.

i gotta say more about this. we have to pause. sorry

[not-poignant]

Top 5 games (any kind, any genre, any scale) !!

Oh man, if it’s anything at all, this is going to be super tough. And I’m going to forget a ton of things, but here we go:

1. Stardew Valley - With 8+ farms and over 1,000 hours, it’s probably the game I’ve loved the most aside from some phone games which take up a lot of my time, lol. Oh yeah I wrote a Stardew Valley fic too, which is usually a sign I’m enjoying something.

2. The entire Pokemon franchise, but especially Pokemon Go, and Pokemon Conquest, which was a turn-based RPG for the DS that I sunk hundreds of hours into, and was amazingly addictive. Pokemon Go I still actively play. Not as much as other people, because physical disability makes it hard to walk as much as you really need to, in order to play the game, but definitely enough that I’m really proud of my shiny collection.

3. Most of the entire Final Fantasy franchise, but especially Final Fantasy VII, the original of which accompanied me in highschool, and friends used to come over to watch me play (not everyone had consoles back then - I remember calling the kids across the road because they were like ‘YOU HAVE TO TELL US WHEN YOU’RE UP TO SEPHIROTH’ and then I thought I was but actually I was at that giant cave system that takes forever lmao). And especially Final Fantasy Tactics A2: Grimoire of the Rift. Another turn-based RPG, the gameplay mechanics in this meant I played it all the fucking time. They’ve never released another game like it (and no, Final Fantasy Tactics is not the same).

4. Zen Koi II (and Zen Koi). These are phone games where you quietly play a koi that ascends into a dragon. It’s impossible to die in any way. It’s designed to be (moderately) relaxing and absorbing, and the only goal is to complete koi collections and get more cool colours and patterns.

5. The original Legend of Zelda. Yes, it’s true, I was playing this when it first came out in Australia at 7/8 years old, and though it wasn’t my first video game, it was close to it. I also liked the Adventures of Link (and completed both). (Actually honorable mention to Faxanadu, but I got emulators specifically to play that game well over a decade ago). That original 8-bit theme song to Legend of Zelda is still one of my favourites, and I have quite a few symphony and other remakes. It set me on the path of playing video games, though honestly, largely due to the magic of experiencing those games as a young child, I haven’t been able to get into anything else in the Zelda/Link franchise, though I like that it’s still successful to this day.

*

Honourable mentions to: Slime Rancher, Fire Emblem Heroes, Child of Light, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Phantasy Star Online, Merge Dragons, Duke Nukem (the original two), Wip3Out (and everything in the Wip3Out franchise, which I have played), and the original Super Mario Bros, which I completed without the ability to save or take much of a break, awash with fear and anxiety, while my sister screamed at me, and even my Mum came out of the kitchen to watch when I was about 7. Oh and Ufouria. Oh and Megaman, the og.

*

From the Top 5 Meme!

[sugakuns]

[ʜᴄ] | 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

being childhood friends with kenma, akaashi & iwa + telling each other they’d be married when they were younger

ᴀ/ɴ: gender neautral pronouns

— kozume k.

you’ve known kenma basically since the day you were born

both you and his family lived in the apartment building and you happened to live next door to each other which was both a blessing and a curse

since kenma was quite shy he had never really iniciated any conversation or play with you so you overcame your own shyness to play with him

mostly the two of you would play with dolls or go out in the local park but as soon as kenma got his first gaming device he would never go outside

even when the new kid kuroo came along it took him a while to warm up and try to play with you and kenma

kuroo noticed how throughout primary school you seemed closer to the quiet boy

you’d hang off of his shoulder and call him cute names like “kenma-san” or “kenken”

so one day kuroo gave you the idea to propose to little kenma

yes, at 7 years of age kuroo told you to ask 6 year old kenma to marry you

so you did

with little plastic rings from a magazine your mother had bought you

“kenken, im giving you this ring because it means we’re married, okay?” kenma nods and takes the ring, even going as far as slipping it on his ring finger

“Kenken!” Your voice bellows throughout the gym, hands extending out as you throw yourself into a frankly violent hug. Kenma stumbles a little, hands grasping your waist as he trieds to stablilise himself from the running hug. His hair tousles from the impact, the stray strands brushing along your cheeks as you pull away.

“You’ll never guess what I found!” Your smile is large, beaming under the fluorescent lights belonging to the gym ceiling. Kenma states curiously, his expression close to one of a curious kitten. Practice had just ended and currently Kenma and Kuroo were the only ones there due to waiting on you.

Your fingers swiftly dance along your screen as you locate the picture you had taken of your family’s photo album. There was one particular picture of both you and the now faux blonde, both smiling (albeit kenma’s looked a little forced) and showing off the plastic rings you had won in a vending machine the day prior.

“Remember? I forgot we’re married!” You giggle as Kenma stares at the picture on your phone. He hadn’t forgotten that day - yet he hoped you would - the day his childhood crush told him that they were getting married. He hadn’t put much thought into you remembering what happened on that day but when he thinks about it he feels a warm, blooming senestaion fill his chest.

“You’re married?” Kuroo chuckles as he swings the keys around his index finger in an attempt to look suave. You nod quickly whereas Kenma blinks coyly at the taller male. Kuroo can feel the chuckle bubbling up from his chest into his throat yet he catches it last moment at the sharp state he’s getting from his friend.

“Yeah..We’ll get really rings later” Kenma muses, a lazily sweet smile resting on his lips.

— iwaizumi h.

so you actually knew oikawa before iwa,, so he was the sole reason you even met hajime

iwa was actually a little jealous of oikawa since the two of you were closer and he developed a puppy crush on you 🥺

the two of you were around 8 and iwa still held the crush he had since he was 5 - yes he didn’t give it away surprisingly (since he was a child)

so one day, when the both of you were playing and oikawa had planted a kiss on your head cuz he was feeling all confident iwa got jealous

“me and [y/n] are married stupidkawa!! you can’t do that!”

you just went along with it and told oikawa he had cooties LMAO

“Oh my god, you will not believe what I just remembered” Oikawa exclaims, hands clutching at his alien themed pillow. The three of you usually had sleepovers, even at your older age, and Oikawa usually hosted them since his house was bigger.

The three of you were perched on his bed dressed in your pajamas. You and Iwa were leaning against his beds headboard and Oikawa was laying further down the bed, leaning against the wall beside his bed.

“Your brain works?” You tease, chucking lightly as Oikawa dismissively sticks his tongue out at you. Iwa sniggers at your fast witted comment, even going as far to ruffle your hair.

“Yes.” Oikawa deadpans “But, seriously, remember when we were kids and Iwa-chan got jealous because I-I kissed you and he said- he said you two were married!” Oikawa howls with laughter at his own words, barely able to even spew the sentence before he clutches at his stomach to stabilise himself.

Your eyebrow raises, watching as Oikawa laughs to himself. Iwaizumi states dismissively too, arms crossing along his chest.

“We flamed you after that, Tōru” You state, remembering the relentless teasing that both you and Iwa inflicted on the poor boy.

“Plus, we’re dating..Iwa gave me an actual promise ring” you point at the ring on your finger (which was way too expensive for your liking) which reflects under the dim lighting in Oikawa’s room.

Oikawa pouts, laughter seizing as he sees his plan to fluster the two of you didn’t go through “You’re both boring”

— akaashi k.

akaashi didn’t have a lot of friends when he was younger

so you were really his only proper friend,, so he’s find himself with you most of the time

a lot of the time the two of you would play in the public park or at his house

and you two would usually play volleyball since akaashi liked it and you enjoyed it too

he hadn’t really thought snout his feelings for you since he thought they were normal to have towards a close friend

but one day you got quite jealous of all of the other (mainly girls) people who would flock to akaashi

so you simply told them that you two were married so they couldn’t take him away from you

akaashi, like kenma, just went with it

“Bokuto-san, what are you doing?” You ask as you watch the two-toned ace feverishly flick through your childhood memorabilia. He smiles as he comes across old photos of you and his new ‘bestie’ Akaashi; cooing as he looks at the tiny baby shoes that used to for your small feet.

The two boys had came over to study for a test but along the way Bokuto had become distracted and noticed the shiny box on your bedside table. He was more of a magpie than an owl at the moment, diving towards the shiny items rather than the dull items.

“What’s this?” He holds a poorly written letter between his index finger and thumb, staring at the crooked writing on the lined paper. It’s a little crumbled, plastered with stickers and has a massive love heart on the back. You flush as you realise what letter it is, the letter you gave to akaashi to sign if he wanted to marry you.

Bokuto squeals, jumping up and allowing the box to fall recklessly onto your bed. He practically screams as he swings the old piece of paper around.

“You’re married!” He seems more excited than confused, almost acting as if the two of you were actually married.

“Bokuto” Akaashi starts “If you keep this quiet from the rest of the team I’ll do even more serves for you tomorrow”

Bokuto jumps in excitement, the old piece of paper forgotten as he animatedly thanks his friend in advance. You can’t believe that you had forgot to take the little piece of paper out of the box since you had already thought about Bokuto finding it.

However, you can’t help but smile. That was how Akaashi asked you out in first year, reactating the letter you had made in childhood.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are Weird:   The Hand of Andromeda Ch. 1

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) (New chapters will be posted first to patreon and then moved here) Hanging above the front of the classroom loomed an archaic clock; its arms slowly moving with the passing of each second. To Lizzy Stalwart who was the only student left in the classroom the clock appeared more like a prison warden, watching over her until her hour was due.

Mr. Parkins, her teacher, sat behind his desk just under the clock. He appeared to the casual observer to be going over today’s submitted papers and grading them, but Lizzy could tell from his constant sidelong glances that he was more interested in his data pad he had tucked away in a side drawer. No doubt it was playing the live feed for the Rebound Prix game going on today. He would occasionally look up to watch Lizzy with suspicious eyes before looking away again as if uninterested.

Lizzy had never liked Mr. Parkins as a teacher. He always felt the need to show off his intelligence, always needing to make people feel inferior to him, and always gloating about his past achievements. Frankly she thought that he was having a midlife crisis and this was his coping mechanism, but with each passing day it just became sadder and sadder to watch.

Before Lizzy could further ponder the sad existence of her teacher a series of knocks came from the classroom door. Mr. Parkins looked up from data pad and closed the drawer it was in. He straightened himself out and said “Come in.”

The door to the classroom slowly opened and a towering figure entered the room. They needed to stoop slightly to enter as their muscular build could barely squeeze through the door frame. At first Parkins thought that the figure was just a rather muscular human until the figure fully emerged into the room.

“Thank you for coming on such short-“Mr. Parkins began as he stood and held a hand out then stopped himself. He took a good look at the figure now that he was outside of the doorway and saying he was surprised would be an understatement.

The figure was none other than a Predatorian, standing easily six or seven feet tall and dressed in a coal black suit and matching pants of no doubt expensive material. Orange and black slit eyes looked down at Parkins before looking passed him to Lizzy. As they saw her the Predatorian’s mouth twitched for a moment and Parkins could see a gleaming row of razor teeth behind the smooth blue and white scaly skin.

Turning their gaze back to Mr. Parkins with his hand still held out but unable to move, the Predatorian clasped it with his own hand and shook it.

“It’s no trouble at all.” The Predatorian said. The fluency of his speech was almost as unnerving to Parkins as the sand paper like texture of their skin.

“You-you-you are…” Parkins trebled on as his body switched to auto pilot and continued shaking the alien’s hand. “You are Ms. Starlwart’s guardian?”

“I am.” The Predatorian let go of Mr. Parkins hand who was still dumbly shaking it. “You can call me Mr. B; I spoke with you earlier on the phone.”

“Why yes we did, but I was just thinking you would be-.”

“Human?”

Mr B. grinned, showing off even more teeth as he waved his hand as if dismissing Parkins concerns. “That’s alright; I get that a lot with humans.”

Lizzy watched as her father motioned for Parkins to sit back down which he gladly did. She could tell Mr. Parkins was regaining a bit of his composure returning as he sat behind his desk now that it separated the two of them.

“I was a bit confused why I am here however.” Mr B. continued. “You weren’t specific with what my little girl was in trouble for and I would like to clear up that confusion now.”

“Today was the final exam for the class before the summer break.”

At this Parkins pulled open a drawer from behind his desk and withdrew a single paper sheet from it. He placed it on his desk so Mr. B could fully see it.

“Your daughter was upset with how her grade came out and began arguing with me about changing it. I felt this was most disrespectful and thought her parents should be made aware.”

“That’s because you docked me points for not using a calculator!” Lizzy stood up suddenly and nearly knocked over her chair. “I told you I didn’t need one but you still told me I needed to use it!”

“It’s alright sweetie,” Mr. B said in a soothing tone Mr. Parkins found completely at odds with his appearance, “I’ll take care of this.”

Lizzy pouted but sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. She couldn’t even look at Mr. Parkins without becoming upset at this point.

Smirking Parkins turned from Lizzy back to Mr. B. “You see? Your daughter is smart but her manners can be lacking at times.”

Mr. B was ignoring Parkins and picked up Lizzy’s exam. He slowly went over reading every line before looking back at Parkins.

“Were her answers wrong?”

Mr. Parkins looked confused for a moment but rallied.

“She was docked points by not following the rules.”

“But were her answers right?”

Mr. B walked towards the desk and now loomed over Parkins. He set the paper back down on the desk and tapped it with his talon like finger. He locked eyes with Parkins and continued tapping the paper.

“I’m asking if these answers she gave are right or not.”

“Technically,” Parkins began, swallowing deeply as the locked eye contact whittled away his composure again, “they were correct.”

“Then it makes no sense why you took away points.” Mr. B stood back up to his full height. “She did the work and gave the correct responses.”

“But she didn’t follow the rules I laid out for the exam.” Parkins countered. “Not following the rules will not get you anywhere in the real world Mr. Stalwart.”

“And what would you know of the real world?”

Parkins looked up and saw nothing but pure anger written across Mr. B’s face. The corner of his mouth was twitching once more revealing the sharpened white teeth. His eyes narrowed and his stare turned hard.

“You, who spend every day inside this tiny safe box”

Parkins retreated deeper into his chair as Mr. B grasped the table and leaned forward.

“You sit here behind your tiny desk in your tiny world and think that you know how the “real” world works, do you?”

Mr. B was now leaning over Parkins, his shadow swallowing him up. Parkins clasped his hands together to stop them from shaking as gut wrenching fear crept up his spine like a cold shower. He looked into Mr. B’s eyes for a moment and saw nothing but a barely contained rage, held in check by the thinnest of lines. Parkins’s stare broke away for a moment and looked over at Lizzy only to see she was still sitting at her desk but had covered her face in her arms as if embarrassed.

Mr. B pushed forward Lizzy’s papers. “You will give her the credit she is do or else.”

“O-o-o-or else what?” Parkins stammered, to which Mr. B smiled. Not a friendly smile, but one of pure devilish delight. The kind of smile Parkins had seen on holo dramas from villains just as they were about to commit evil.

“Or else I will have the school board have you removed from your position.”

As Parkins looked at Mr. B’s calm demeanor he could tell this was no idle threat, but more a assured promise.

“Oh,” Mr. B continued as he casually picked some lint off his suit and flicked it away, “I’ll also have you black listed from every school on the planet.”

“But you can’t do that!” Parkins was on his feet so suddenly that he knocked his desk with his knees and sent the contents atop it scattering to the floor.

Mr. B casually shrugged and took on a more relaxed posture. “I can, because unlike you I know how the real world works.” He calmly bent down and picked up Lizzy’s paper and put it on the desk again.

Parkins looked back and forth between Lizzy and Mr. B like a deer trapped in headlights before slumping back into his chair.

“I will correct the mistake.” Parkins said reluctantly.

“Good man.” Mr. B adjusted his suit and motioned to Lizzy. She sighed loudly and rose to her feet, hefting her backpack and heading towards the door. “I knew we would come to an understanding.”

“Your daughter will have no trouble passing my class from now on.” Parkins continued, any shred of dignity lost from the encounter. Surprisingly Mr. B shook his head.

“I don’t want her getting a free pass.” He fixed Parkins with a stern stare again which made him further retreat into his chair. “All I want is for her to be treated fairly.”

Parkins couldn’t say anything and just nodded his head as the two of them left the classroom.

The car ride home from school was uncomfortably quiet for Lizzy. She sat in the back with Mr. B while their driver carefully navigated the busy streets of downtown Gilfield. The buildings flew by like blurry images as the car drove the two of them back home. The car itself was a stretched model with the back lavishly decorated with emerald silk and several bottles of Juvian IV water or exotic liquors.

Every block or so Lizzy would glance over at Mr. B expecting him to say something to her, but every time she saw him casually reading some papers and making notes or dabbing his slowly dying cigar into the ash tray. This went on for about ten minutes before she couldn’t bare the silence anymore.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Lizzy said as she crossed her arms and sat back into her seat. Mr. B set down the papers he was reading and turned to her.

“I’m not upset with you,” he began as he twisted the final embers of his cigar out and closed the tray, “but you know better than to poke the bear.”

“But Mr. Parkins-“Lizzy began but Mr. B held up a hand to stall her.

“I stood up for you because your teacher was being an asshole and needed to be taken down a peg; but that doesn’t mean his point wasn’t valid.” He pulled out a bottle of red velvet like liquid and poured a glass for himself, careful not to spill a drop as the car continued down the road. As the liquid touched his lips his pupils dilated and a shudder ran down the length of his body. “In his classroom he’s the boss, and when you’re the boss everyone under you must do what you say.”

“Until you find a way to do it better.” Lizzy quipped back making Mr. B smile.

“I’m glad to see some of my lessons are sticking with you.”

Lizzy smiled back as she pulled out a napkin and threw it at him. “Were as the ones I teach you fall on deaf ears.” He looked confused for a moment until she motioned down with her head and he saw several drops had spilled on his suit.

“Son-of-a-bi-“he began before the driver cut him off.

“We’ve arrived sir, madam.”

“Thanks Hendriks.” Lizzy was already out the door as she called back to the driver and stepped out on to the street. It was nearly dusk and the city lights were beginning to turn on one by one turning a dull city into a light show of neon and glare. A line was beginning to form around the block as Lizzy walked passed them to the front and waved to the bouncer at the door. To the crowds surprise the bouncer let the kid cut the line and enter the night club “Blitz”.

As she made her way through the club she smiled and greeted the staff still prepping the place for opening. Several of the dancers on stage saw her and called out which she waved back but continued her way upstairs and into the back rooms meant only for staff.

She came to a thick metal door strong enough to take an anti-grav tank rocket and not be dented and stopped. Pulling her backpack off she shuffled around inside until she found he id card and swiped it. The door beeped and lit up green for a moment before slowly rumbling open letting Lizzy continue on.

Unlike the front of the club the back room was an entirely different beast altogether. In place of bar benches and rows of liquor, stood weapon racks and crates larger than her entire body. The scantily clad dancers were replaced with thick muscled guards checking weapons before loading them into storage containers. Even the air itself that had smelled of cologne and perfume was replaced with the stench of weapon oils and hydraulic fluid.

She wondered why her dad had wanted to keep both of the businesses he ran under the same roof but when she thought about it the whole thing was so cliché that no one would believe it anyway. Who would think the largest mercenary company in the Sleisian Belt would be being run out of the back of a seedy nightclub?

She had just made it to her room when an aid approached her. Without a word said they handed her a data pad which she took without looking at it as she opened her room’s door.

“I’ll have it finished and organized in an hour.” She said to them. They nodded and scampered off back down the hallway to the arming room as the door closed behind her.

Her room was modest by comparison to the military quarters outside. Pictures of singers were on the walls and the ceiling was covered with star charts that shifted as the projector updated them every passing minute.

She threw off her backpack and plopped herself down on to the nearby bed. She’d hoped laying there for a few minutes would relax her after the mind numbing ordeal Parkins had put her through but the more she thought about it the more frustrated she became.

Sitting up she shuffled over to her desk and picked up the data pad she had been given earlier.

“Computer, play track seven.” She said as she sat down and began going over the day’s expense report for the company. Just looking over the initial figures she had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

[1994sunflower]

Can you just make something really fluffy of just her hanging out with Ashton and Calum while Micheal is busy or something. Like just siblings love because I could use some nice fluff from my favorite writer at this point. Pretty please. If not it's totally chill. ( Heaven to you)

so so cute, I really liked exploring this friendship. hope you like it!

in which you spend some time with calum and ashton

“I’m serious Michael.” You kept pushing him away from you. Tapping the textbook on his lap, “You need to study, you’re going to fail the class if you don’t pass this exam.”

Michael groaned, “It’s a fucking elective, it’s not like I need it to graduate.”

He’d been trying to avoid the studying he denied needing (but knew he did). You were doing your best to not be distracting. You studied yourself, scrolled on your phone, never once speaking to him lest you take his attention away.

But his eyes always seemed to eventually trail over to your small figure laying on his bed after a long time of staring blankly at the book in front of him. Sometimes he would ask you what you were doing, claiming he was taking a break. Other times he would try to kiss you and start something you knew would definitely just destroy his concentration on classwork. He was just a natural procrastinator.

You pushed him away each time, no matter how sweetly he approached you or how innocent his words seemed. You knew his tricks. And frankly, you were worried you might be too weak to resist him if you let him get any closer.

“That’s right. It’s an elective you chose, so you have to study for it. I know you’ll do fine if you’d just actually try.” You’d made your mind up already on what the solution to the problem was. Because apparently it was you, he couldn’t concentrate with you in the room. You got up from his bed, taking your phone and his with you. No distractions. “I’ll come back when you’ve actually finished studying.”

“Wha-” Michael moved to grab your wrist but you moved out of the way quickly. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. You study or I’ll leave altogether. You’re going to pass this class.” You smiled at him, just to show him just how much you believed and cared about him. You were doing this for his own good. “I’ll be outside when you’re done.”

“What are you even going to do all alone?” Michael called out, turned away completely from his book as he stared at you with disbelieving eyes. You’d always ended up going along with his attempts of distractions before, you’d never actually gone this far to make him study. Not when your absence was likely the biggest punishment his girlfriend could inflict.

You huffed, stepping out of his room, “Worry about what you’re going to do in this room, Michael Clifford.”

You full named him. Michael groaned heavily as he rested his forehead against his desk, that was how he knew you were serious. And he had nothing to do but dreadfully start learning about a subject he didn’t even care about and barely understood during the little lectures he did attend. Because no matter how docile you may appear and how intimidating he may seem to everyone else, his small girlfriend was truly the only one who would ever be able to tell him what to do. He’s wrapped around your finger.

-

The house was lit up for once and you could see Ashton wrestling with the control in his hands, completely immersed in whatever war game was on in the television. Calum was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, glancing up at the screen every so often. But his attention was almost completely on the laptop on his lap. At least one of the people in that house tried to do his school work.

You stepped out hesitantly. You already missed the comfort of your boyfriend’s presence. It might’ve been a punishment for both of you. But it was for his best. So you sighed and moved forward nonetheless. You always felt equally as safe and more than happy in Ashton and Calum’s presence.

“What are you two doing?” You asked as you took a seat next to Ashton. Your movements were confident, like second nature because they never made you feel like you were intruding.

Ashton’s only acknowledgement of you was a nudge but Calum looked up from his screen and smiled at you. It hadn’t been long since you could say you barely knew him, compared to your relationship Ashton. But you were glad that your friendship had evolved and you felt a lot closer to him, a lot more comfortable and friendly.

Calum gestured to his screen which you couldn’t see, “Well, I’m doing my work unlike other people.”

Ashton was just able to let go of the controller with one hand to be able to flip Calum off before going back to handling it with two. The multitasking was honestly impressive.

“At least someone in this house is being a good student.” You muttered, placing Michael’s phone on your lap as you leaned back on the couch. A sigh left your lips as if all your attempts with Michael had left you exhausted.

“I’m sorry.” Ashton glanced at you and only then did you realize he had paused his game, “Are you insinuating that I’m not a good student?”

“I’m ‘insinuating’ that I didn’t know you knew big words.”

“Fuck you, Hood.”

Your giggles were the only thing that stopped Ashton from some saying some very select words to Calum. A smile formed on his lips without him even thinking about it. It was hard to repress, your happiness was contagious. He understood why Michael always talked about your goodness.

“Where’s Michael anyway?” Ashton asked, his tone already teasing. “I was wondering when you’d get sick of being around each other 24/7.”

“Hey!” You slapped his arm in faux-anger. To which he laughed promptly, ruffling your hair dismissively enough for you to swat at him again.

Your attempt to get your hair back to normal was useless until Calum decided to move forward and place the pieces of hair back in place for you. You sat perfectly still as he did. They were always gentle with you. Sometimes you wondered if they thought you would break otherwise, you looked dainty but you’d gotten used to Michael’s manhandling, not being held back by that.

“For your information, he’s studying too. So it seems you’re the only one who isn’t, Ash.”

Ashton eyed you up and down, “I don’t see a book in your hands.”

You glared up at him but to both he and Calum, you looked a little less threatening than a Chihuahua. So they did nothing but smirk back down at you until you huffed out and crossed your arms.

Calum closed his laptop, his attention evidently no longer being held by it. “So you’re just going to wait until he’s done?”

Ashton scoffed, “As if he’s actually studying. Sorry to tell you, Y/N, but you’re giving him way too much credit.”

You looked so offended at his words that both of them wordlessly burst out laughing. Ashton shook his head, his grin so big you could see his dimples as he held out the control in his hands to you.

“Here. While you wait the whole 10 minutes he’ll pretend to be studying, you can play with us.”

Ashton was serious about his games. Only letting a select few friends ever even pick up one of his controllers. It was a privilege for only the people he liked the most. One he was giving you and you beamed with pride. You took the controller from his hand.

Calum took the other one left abandoned on the floor. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, feeling utterly too confident for someone who could barely hold the controller correctly. “You’re going down, frat boy.”

Calum let out a surprised laugh. It was so easy to forget who exactly he was associated with when he was so different from all the frat boys you’d ever known. You were grateful he was, because otherwise you’d never feel comfortable with him. And certainly never develop the close friendship you had with him.

Ashton was kind enough to change the game, knowing you weren’t fond of war, even depictions of it. How ironic for a girl who was dating a guy that seemed to bring the spirit of war anytime he got pissed off. He didn’t ask but you felt happy that he knew you enough to think of your preferences.

It was sweet. The way they took the time to remind you what exactly the keys did (Ashton reminding you for the nth time since the first time you taught you).

“You’ll do fine.” Calum waved dismissively, leaning back on the couch. His laptop long forgotten next to him. “But not better than me.”

When the game finally started, it was a slow start. Mostly because you were trying to get into the rhythm of things and Calum slowed down too, allowing you to adjust. They both watched you carefully, nodding when you were hesitant about pressing a button. Even giving you words of encouragement when you actually did well in the game. Or when your calm demeanor sent a wave of enjoyment through the three of you.

“I think we like you more than Michael.”

“Yeah, you better.”

Your grin and giggles was genuine. You were having fun. Even without Michael there. While any other time you’d be just counting down the time until you could get back to him. Good thing his friends, your friends as well, were so hospitable and nice to be around. That they included you and they liked you. It sure meant a lot to Michael anyway that the people closest to him cared for you and looked after you even when he wasn’t there.

Truthfully, they weren’t the type of guys you would’ve befriended if you hadn’t dated Michael; you were too shy and they were too outgoing and friendly. You would’ve been too hesitant to even try to go into their world or group, you would’ve been too awkward and nervous. But despite that, you felt perfectly comfortable in their presence. And you were glad they were your friends.

Ashton helped you a lot during the game. His gaze would be completely on the screen as he watched you and Calum play but his hands hovered over yours. His fingers sometimes clicking buttons for you that you never would have known to press otherwise. Other times, completely moving your fingers as if he was playing through your hands. You didn’t mind, in fact you preferred it when he helped. It was when you started winning.

His face was focused, serious as it always was when he was playing and it was kind of amusing to glance at, especially because technically, he wasn’t playing.

Calum didn’t call you out for cheating even though having Ashton help you technically was exactly that. It wasn’t that he wasn’t aware. It was pretty obvious, Ashton did nothing to hide it. And even if he did, it was kind of hard to not at least be suspicious when your sloppy gaming suddenly got much better and you started to win. But for your sake, Calum pretended to be oblivious.

Truth was, you sucked. But if anyone ever even tried saying that to you, they’d be asking for a death wish. Especially when you looked so content just to be involved, you trying your best. And that was what mattered to them.

It was subtle when Calum began to ease up on his playing. You didn’t notice. Not even when the game that was so close beforehand started to go overwhelmingly in your favor. Just like that Calum let you win. Even if he was known to be competitive. He could put that aside for his dear friend.

You squealed out in happiness, dropping the controller on the sofa as your arms went up in celebration. “Ash!! Did you see that?”

Ashton locked eyes with your excited one and nodded, his own arms mimicking yours and wooping in celebration. Your high fives were probably too many given that it was a video game you won by cheating half of the time and had been allowed to win. But his smile was large and his laugh was genuine.

He turned to Calum, both hands flipping him off in good humor while you placed your hands on Ashton’s shoulders, just enough to be able to look past him above his head to Calum.

You stuck your tongue out at him in the way that was not very sportsmanlike but very cute, so he couldn’t be mad. “Told you I’d win.”

Then you shrieked when Calum pulled your from your seat. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders enough to have you leaning forward from the weight. He wasn’t as big as Michael but he certainly rose up much taller than you. “Yeah, yeah. Good luck trying to beat me again.”

You were laughing along with him, looking up at the amused boy but you couldn’t respond. Michael’s door was flung open before you could. You hadn’t realized how loud the three of you were being.

“If I’m being forced to study could you two at least shut the fuck up so I can concentrate.” He didn’t leave his room, his head just peeking out of his doorway. He was as daunting as always, his face serious and close to emotionless. His words harsh. But if he wanted to be intimidating, it was a shame his demeanor didn’t effect the room filled with the closest people in his life.

Michael’s eyes softened when he spotted you in Calum’s arms. Obviously he hadn’t been talking to you, he never would be so brash with you. Especially when you looked at him with those eyes that said you could do no wrong. But he also hadn’t expected you to be participating in making the noise with his rowdy friends. His voice was markedly nicer, “Oh…what are you doing?”

“What we get yelled at but she doesn’t?” Ashton scoffed.

You smiled sweetly at Michael, knowing that he could never get mad at you. Your nose crinkled slightly from pride, “I just beat Cal at a game.”

Calum placed a hand on the top of your head, “She got lucky. But she’s actually pretty good.”

“She’s a natural.” Ashton interrupted, even if his words were a bit of an exaggeration, you still raised up on your tiptoes for a second at the praise. Ashton’s eyes held a mischief to them. “One of us just might steal her from you, I think she likes us better anyway.”

If it was anyone else that dared utter those words, you were sure the result would be much different. You could imagine the way Michael’s eyes would shut down in anger, the way his body would tense up and his knuckles would be ready to meet bone. They’d be on the ground bleeding, almost as quickly as the words would leave someone’s mouth. The same went if anyone else put their hands on you like Calum was currently doing.

But it was his best friend. Someone he trusted, cared for and most importantly, he knew cared and respected you as well. He knew his friends’ flirty comments were just talk, just to rile him up. So he did nothing but roll his eyes. “Don’t make me have to beat your ass. Just fucking try it.”

But his words were all bark, no bite. They couldn’t be when he was saying it to Ashton when he knew there was no real problem and when you looked so amused, no discomfort at all. Ashton and Calum were flirty with you before, only when Michael was around and only to get a reaction out of him. You never felt uncomfortable, they always respected boundaries and you had begun to enjoy seeing their friendship with your boyfriend.

Michael struggled with being friendly. But it was almost fascinating and sweet to see him enjoy himself with Ashton and Calum, play around with them like any other guy. Not like the angry, mean guy others saw him as. Even when it came to you, when it would otherwise be when he was most on edge and terrifying. It was a big part of why you felt so safe and secure in Ashton and Calum’s presence as well, because Michael seemed the same way and his trust wasn’t easily won.

Your boyfriend turned around after that and went back in his room. Muttering under his breath, not happy that he had to leave the fun and get back to studying. But you watched him o silently, a small smile on your face as he was actually responsible for once.

In truth, Michael was happy you got along so well. That he could leave you with them and be sure that they’d entertain you, keep you comfortable and safe when he wasn’t around. That you saw in his friends the same thing he did, that you liked them and didn’t mind spending time with them. Even with how different they were from you. They didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.

Even then, you found a way to connect with them to the point where he would find you laughing with them, that you’d hug them as a greeting or goodbye, could hang out with them on your own accord. Not being forced to just to make him happy to see his loved ones together.

It just went to show him, once again, how perfect his little girlfriend was. Everyone felt happy with you around, you embodied that happiness, it was impossible not to feel it. You were just so good. And it wasn’t just in his head, a side effect of the love he felt for you, that was proven when he saw the way Ashton and Calum succumbed to your goodness as well. They were powerless not to.

He couldn’t be prouder.

[dontcallmecarrie]

Downward Descending

the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and every villain is the hero of his own story. 

Justin Hammer didn’t consider himself a good man. 

Kind? Yes. But not good.

aka thanks, commenter, I blame the plot twist my brain came up with on you because I had zero inspiration for this AU up until I saw your comment

probably won’t make sense if you didn’t read part one to this mess and heads up, the protagonist becomes a villain here. Under the cut because it ran away on me, again.

.

Above all things, Justin Hammer was a realist. 

Kind of hard not to be, considering; between their [fading] memories of another world, and the life they’d been stuck with this round as the heir of Hammer Industries, they’d never really had a chance to get their head in the clouds.

Other people could dream of a better future, and he really did wish them all the best— but in the meantime, he had work to do.

.

Justin didn’t understand these people. 

Sometimes, he wondered if he ever would.

.

Justin didn’t think much of his family: oh, sure, they were loaded, but...well, for obvious reasons, he didn’t think very highly of some— okay, most— of their parenting choices.

Look, some people just aren’t meant to be parents, okay? But at least they try and give a damn.

These guys didn’t even bother.

Not when their heir turned out to be a normal kid instead of a once-in-a-generation child prodigy and genius [no hard feelings, though, Stark]. 

Eh. Whatever. 

Might’ve been for the best, actually; at least it was him and not some other poor kid who got stuck with dealing with all the crushing expectations and comparisons to a frankly impossible ideal, and at least they didn’t try to pull any of that shit with his little sister because if they had then...he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done, but it would not have been pretty.

[they were an older sibling twice over. some things were etched into their soul.]

.

It wasn’t like Justin had set out to quasi-adopt just about everyone remotely his age, okay? It just sort of...happened. 

Okay, look, it’s not his fault everyone his generation looks like a kid to him, they’re all brats and for some reason, all their parents came in different flavors of shitty because their IQs were sky-high but their collective emotional intelligence wouldn’t have filled a teaspoon so looks like it was up to him to step up.

Look, it made perfect sense at the time!

.

Sometimes, it’s funny how Justin is the most mature person in the room. Other times, it’s just pathetic.

Especially when it’s two grown men half a second from duking it out while in public, like they weren’t supposed to be setting an example for their kids.

Justin couldn’t help his dark look at the spectacle, even as he ushered Stark and Pym to the buffet tables on the other side of the room, all the while trying to keep the conversation light. He didn’t really have the time for hobbies, not with all the private tutors his parents kept foisting on him, but it was still nice to hear what other people his age got up to. 

...unless said kid was Stark, in which case they all got regaled with an overenthusiastic spiel on something that went way over Justin’s head but hey, he’d had plenty of practice nodding along to Steph’s chatter so this was nothing.

.

Looking back, it’s kind of sad how something as simple as giving half a damn was enough for Stark to consider them lifelong friends.

Even sadder, because Justin hadn’t even realized it at the time; he’s just been his usual self.

But apparently, that was enough for some people, was significant enough to be remembered even decades later— long after Justin himself had forgotten all about the encounter.

.

There weren’t a lot of things Justin put actual effort in. 

Emotionally, that is; he was not afraid from hard work, never had been, but there was a world of difference between brushing up on engineering terms and being there for someone. 

Not like his mother, who’d apparently thought giving birth to him and his sister was enough involvement in his life, and proceeded to spend all her time in the Bahamas whenever she had the chance. Not for his father, who constantly tried to make him into something he was not, and finding him wanting [when he wasn’t being a sexist piece of shit who regularly cheated on his wife, anyway, but that was a whole other mess entirely].

But maybe that’s why he tried to be kind, why he tried to be there for the people around him.

...oh, and apparently he’d been known for giving good advice in boarding school to anyone who asked. Which was weird, but whatever. At least he’d helped?

.

Justin tried to be a good older sibling. Really, he did, trying to be as supportive as he could be of Steph as he could.

Sometimes, though, that landed him in some...interesting situations.

Such as her infamous ‘fashion design’ phase, which lasted for five very memorable months, during which he wore even her most dubious of creations without complaint even though he really, really couldn’t pull off that particular shade of orange. 

There were probably pictures still floating around, actually, but he was in no particular hurry to dig them up.

Not that he was ashamed, because he’d like to think he pulled off some of those combinations remarkably well, but... well, if it were anyone other than his sister asking, he probably wouldn’t have done it.

Goodness knew how long it’d taken for some of the other guys at boarding school to look him in the eye afterwards. 

.

Several decades in, and Justin Hammer had yet to express interest in anyone.

Oh, he was perfectly polite and charming to everyone; courteous and charismatic, but...well.

'Gentleman’, some called him; ‘in the closet’, dismissed others with a scoff.

The truth was somewhere in between: Justin couldn’t help but see everyone his age or younger as kids, and between that, his natural older sibling instincts, and his own personal issues with his body that came and went, well...

At least Stark was always a good distraction, nobody paid attention to him when the guy was around. 

.

Justin worked at his company long before he became its CEO. 

It was a bit awkward at first, because everyone seemed to be uncomfortable with the idea of the boss’ kid looking over their shoulders, but once they saw he did good work and pulled his weight [and didn’t regularly make tasteless jokes about kitchens or whatever bullshit his old man was up to these days], things picked up the pace.

He bounced between departments a bit because he wanted to get a better feel for the company, and it was during his brief foray in the marketing department that he came across something that gave him pause.

Now, he knew Hammer Industries followed federal guidelines on who they did and didn’t sell to, officially, but...there were a few grey areas sometimes. 

Normally, it wasn’t something he’d have blinked at, but he recognized the names on this particular proposal.

“Von Doom? Latveria? Geez, Victor, what’ve you been up to?”

.

Once upon a time, there had been a boy who appreciated silence when studying during a time when most children his age were anything but.

So when another brat showed up, he hadn’t exactly been happy about it at first. 

But they were quiet, and seemed to prefer to keep their nose in their book, and so they’d come to a wordless agreement to share the space. 

For over three years, they studied together and shared exasperated looks when the other brats got loud, and so it was that a friendship was born.

It wasn’t until they stopped showing up one day that Justin learned that there was turmoil in that student’s country that’d forced them to go back, and only then that he learned his silent studymate’s name.

.

An unusual childhood friendship wasn’t much to go off of.

But it was something.

And knowing what he did about Victor, and the pull his country had in the international sphere... it was a risky gamble, but he was fairly certain he could pull it off.

So Justin quietly but firmly took that particular proposal from the ‘reject’ pile, and took it to his father to look over.

He was still fairly new at this, but he knew how to play the game. It was a risky gamble, but if this panned out, they’d have a significantly stronger foothold in places their rivals couldn’t even dream.

Worst comes to worse, well... everyone was so focused on what was going down in Yugoslavia, it wasn’t like they’d particularly care if a few shipments went missing, now, would they?

It wasn’t pretty, but then, Justin wouldn’t get anywhere in the world if he was afraid of getting his hands dirty.

.

Latveria’s reputation as an unstable country ended when the scion of one of their most eminent families went and united its people, kicking out all of the outside factions vying for territory as he did.

Then he promptly turned around and revitalized its economy, infrastructure, and gods knows what else because seemingly overnight, Latveria turned into one of the richest countries on the planet. 

Sitting back in his chair, Justin smiled as he put down the newspaper.

“Huh. Sounds like someone’s been busy.”

.

He got a very slick cell phone via courier, not long after that. 

That, and a slip of paper with a simple ‘Thanks’ in Victor’s signature scrawl.

.

Years passed.

Years passed, and shit went down, but no matter what hurdles life threw his way, Justin powered through them nonetheless.

Like when his little sister had a kid and their parents freaked out because she wasn’t married, and then freaked out even more when little Timmy turned out to be on the spectrum and Justin wasn’t remotely surprised when she cut all contact with them after that.

Goodness knew he’d have done the same long ago, after all the shit they’d pulled over the years.

He was just happy she chose to keep him in her life, and that Timmy seemed to really like him as an uncle. 

.

Stark was a bona fide hero, was talking about privatizing world peace. 

Justin wished him the best of luck.

But...well, he hadn’t been the one to propose their rivalry, but if Stark wasn’t in the industry to compete against, then... oh, bother.

Looks like he’d have to change up his plans.

.

Stark was acting weird. Well, weirder, he’d never really been able to understand him in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” Justin asked as he pulled him to the side. Sure, it was probably rude to ignore the gala’s host, but he did not like the look in Stark’s eyes, no matter how bright his smile was.

“Hey, Justin! How’ve you been? Long time no see, but—”

“You’re not okay.” He said, making sure his tone brooked no argument because he knew Stark, had known him since they were kids and he was not okay.

It was like a switch flipped: Stark’s smile vanished, and he reached out towards him for a moment before he sighed and were those tears in his eyes? “Yeah, you could say that.”

.

The government wanted to take Stark’s super-fancy suit, and...this, he could work with. Somehow.

Damn it, he’d need to tweak some of his plans even more...

.

For a few seconds, Stark looked very betrayed when he caught sight of him in the courtroom. 

Then his face went blank in the way Justin had long known to be his ‘I am screaming internally but I refuse to let the cameras see’ look, and he felt bad for him even as he submitted his own findings to their audience.

To be honest, they were a long ways off from developing anything close to what Stark already had in hand, but it never hurt to be prepared for the future. If one man could do it, what was to stop another?

They were all lucky Stark was a good man who didn’t abuse his power.

Justin was no hero, but if lightning were to strike twice...better him than a potential threat.

Besides— Stark needed competition if he didn’t want to stagnate. Who knows? Hopefully, they’d be able to push each other to greater heights.

.

Ivan Vanko was a dangerous man. Just as brilliant as Stark, but with an edge that could only have been gained from a hard life.

Dealing with him would be like playing with fire, Justin just knew it.

[Like knew like, after all.]

But he knew people, knew how to work them, and considering that little display at the race track?

He could work with this.

.

It takes a handful of phone calls to put out all the fires from the past few days. 

Perk of being a well-known and respected figure in the defense industry, Justin supposed; Stark’d once mentioned his contact list was classified six ways to Sunday, so really, having a few senators on speed-dial was nothing. 

He had to do some extra sweet-talking to calm down some of the generals, and may or may not have made mention to some of his older contracts to get Stern to ease up, but whatever.

.

Why he was invited to Stark’s birthday celebration, he didn’t know. 

But he brought a bottle of apple cider and champagne anyway, because why the hell not.

.

This party was really, really not his style.

So when he was pulled aside by the man of the hour, he raised an eyebrow when he noticed he was out of his suit and— wait.

Justin whipped back to where the piece of equipment that had been the source of all this mess was dancing on the table, while Tony was in a rumpled suit not three feet from him.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

.

Stark looked like shit. 

...and was apparently dying, because he’d passed up Justin’s offer at a toast, even though it had been an inside joke for almost as long as they could remember.

Also, he’d looked stricken when Justin had tried to joke about it, that was another pretty big clue.

They weren’t normally one for hugs, but this time they didn’t hesitate to offer— and so felt very very awkward when the closest thing they had to a childhood frenemy proceeded to break down in their arms.

Justin’s older sibling instincts flared to life and they tried to murmur reassurances the best they could, but.

Wasn’t like there was much they could say, now, could they?

Stark was dying, and there was nothing they could do about it. 

Something inside Justin was screaming, and the part of him that wasn’t trying to be there for someone absently wondered why...then he noticed what he was saying, and kicked himself for not paying attention earlier.

“—ever give up, I’m here, know you are not alone—”

Geez. Talk about sappy, normally they only got like this around their sister or nephew.

But whatever it was they’d said, it apparently helped. 

Or something, because Stark was honest-to-goodness crying but after a few minutes, started to calm down and pull himself together.

“I’m so, so sorry about this—” Stark started, and Justin cut in.

“Don’t be, looks like you needed it.” And he clearly had; already he looked a lot better than before.

“I...should get back to the party, shouldn’t I?” Ah, looks like Justin wasn’t the only one feeling awkward now.

“It’s gone on for a while, and you look pretty tired. You sure you don’t want to wrap it up instead?”

“...yeah, that’s... probably a good idea. See you around, Justin. Hopefully.”

“See you later, Stark.” 

.

Stark apparently invented a new element in his basement. 

He knew this, because Stark called him up to say he wasn’t dying anymore. 

Once he hung up, he felt torn between immense relief, and exasperation that he’d need to rewrite his plans again.

.

...aaand kinda ran out of steam again. Long story short, yes, this is the AU where Justin Hammer maybe sort of becomes the Lex Luthor of the universe and may or may not end up accidentally creating a League of Evil of sorts because he’s frenemies with Tony and Victor von Doom ends up having a similar dynamic with some grad student and Ivan has some really good ideas and loves sticking it to the man. 

Said club only grows when the Avengers Initiative forms, and Loki escapes custody and joins for the sole purpose of pranking Thor and giving Fury a headache and Justin may or may not end up getting a crush somewhere along the way.

No, I’m not sure how we got here either.

[theteej]

on white performative anxiety on election night

Ok, here we go. I had decided that I would not watch the election results unfold last night because quite frankly--it was clear that it would be a close race, and just like with sports games it takes a particular type of narcissistic imagining to think that constant watching will change the impact of an event simply because you watch it.  Also, this isn't a sports game--it's people's lives.  So I ordered a pizza and worked through three unread X-Men collections (decent, by the way--especially the new take on Marauders).

By 8pm I was getting frequent texts, and despite putting my phone in another room, i heard the buzzing enough to get me off the couch. I logged onto social media to see a flood of white Democrats having a complete meltdown as if the election had been called.  And that same existential dread/despair cataclysmically reverberating across social media in New Zealand, South Africa, and Australia.  I was so confused.  What the actual fuck were people upset about?  He hadn't conceded. Most states hadn't been called.  The responses felt so much like being in high school or college where I'd studied for exams and felt reasonably prepared but then got overwhelmed in the psychic energy of performed anxiety/fear/studying that everyone did around finals.  Hell, in pre-covid times I had to limit my time on campus as a professor in the last week because the palpable miasma of fear/anxiety/performative freaking out was too much for me, even though I WAS JUST GRADING THE FINALS. Honestly, I was baffled.  Why were people like this?  They knew that Wisconsin and Michigan and Pennsylvania were not going to count their early voting polls first, and the in person would screw Republican.  WHY WERE THEY FREAKING OUT?

And then it slowly dawned on me.  They really had believed their own lies.  They thought there was going to be a magical, massive blue wave of repudiation of President Trump, after the xenophobia, the racism, the wanton cruelty, the vicious fascism.  They needed to believe that this moment would redeem them, this electoral moment would fix them.  And they were mourning, almost disproportionately, this sense of utter collapse.  They were treating the reality of the closeness of the election as somehow equivalent to the idea of a Trump re-election victory.  What the actual hell.

I started to see a lot of "I can't believe it's even this close" statuses.  I put down my pizza in annoyance and kept reading.  There were so many variations on the time-honoured "this is not who we are" canard so many people tell themselves about America. People were mourning, in real time, the lie they'd told themselves.  There was a fundamental believe that Trumpism, the vile populism and toxic mix of racism and other oppressive elements, was an "aberration" that could be corrected.  There was a willing disbelief that this was not part of the very core of this country, that 'America' as a concept is a bad place--one made entirely possible through enslavement and genocide and one that was absolutely fixable through a simple electoral action.  And it's wild, because that's never been the case.  Not now, not ever.  I remember in 2008, being overwhelmed by white people wanting to celebrate Obama with me, but I was also keenly aware of racism and the fact that my own state had just voted to take away same-sex marriage.  Dr. Jim Barrett, a professor in my graduate program at Illinois, stopped me, a new, black graduate student who he didn't know, and said, "isn't the election great?" and i said, "I'm from California, and I'm more worried also about how easily people can dismiss queer rights."  He paused for a second, and then said, "but we did it this time with Obama!"  Here was a full-grown man with a PhD in American history casually telling a black graduate student (WHOSE NAME HE DID NOT EVEN KNOW) how great it was to be able to absolve oneself of responsibility via an electoral process, and to imagine an America without self-criticism, just redemption.

And that's what was at the heart of this baffling pre-capitulation, one that exceeded even the easy stereotype of the always-losing Democrats.  BIDEN HADN'T EVEN LOST. He had (and as of now still) leads in electoral votes! But everyone was moaning, gnashing teeth, and grieving.  But what they were really grieving was their own innocence.  Their naïve assumption that they could be the heroes in a story, in a history of violence that was expressly built for them, even if they wanted to deny it.  Trumpism sells a fantasy of white revanchism, of recovery, and even those whites who imagine otherwise can't exorcise it via a ballot because the entire system of it is at its core, still violent and racist.  Y'all seriously wanted a parade, a movement repudiating this.  What America do you live in?  Did we not go through the same black summer?  Of course we didn't.  You saw this summer as a moment of profound alliance building and a recapturing of a mythical value of inclusion.  We saw it with surprise--oh white people either just realized that black lives are cheap, or they were sufficiently bothered/bored enough to perform about it.

So much of this is a navel-gazing performance of anxiety.  2016 was traumatizing for people who didn't want to think Trumpism was America, but it IS.  And it's done in your name.  

This morning, I saw even more of this.  A friend and colleague wrote a lengthy status about her anxiety about it all and hope that 'good' would prevail, and bemoaned the lack of a real wave of change.  A friend, family member, or colleague of theirs immediately commented with pro-Trump sloganeering.  And she did nothing.  She kept commenting.  This broke me for a second.  How could she not see what a joke all of this was? What she was?  Here she was bemoaning a lack of some sort of prelapsarian goodness, trying to make some sort of "we'll get through this message," and she couldn't even see what she was doing.  There was no acknowledgment, no censuring, no pushback, no RESPONSE to the Trump sloganeering, because she could not fathom the idea that this was connected to HER.  The disappointment she felt, that so many people expressed on social media? It was performative, it was a mourning one's inability to distance oneself from genocidal, suicidal logics of all of this populist turpitude.  She couldn't even denounce the very Trumpism on her own fucking wall, in response to her comment.  Of course there was no blue wave, of course there was no rebuking.  Why should there be?  There are no consequences.  Just white folk hoping civility will save them, with the same baffling surety as King Canute commanding the waves to cease lapping at the feet of his throne.  The whole event felt like a farce--people attempting to distance themselves from a violence done in their name by refusing to even pushback against he very violence that endangers millions of people, incarcerates children, kills with impunity.

I feel, once again, like I'm the one person who felt confident for an exam during finals week.  Everyone's freaking the fuck out, performing, demonstrating a goodness, trying to foolishly imagine the country as good.  I think back to March, when black voters in South Carolina made very clear what was going to happen.  White people were not coming to save them.  Electoral legerdemain was not going to happen, there was no last minute deus ex machina.  There was the brutal calculus that many people don't see the fascism as bad, and remain so insulated that they don't care if the brute returns, so much as the lesser peoples are put in their place.  Those black voters saw that their best chance was the utter uninspiring, safe, and milquetoast flavour of whiteness, Joe Biden.  And they were right.  We can push that one, perhaps.  Make changes.  But this was always going to be a bitter slog, and at most, a close thing.  America is a bad place. We cannot redeem it through performance, through simply voting.  We don't exorcise our structural violence with selfies and dashes of ink on sealed papers.

Now that we know this, we can actually push back against the attempted voter fraud that IS happening right now, and then hope that this mediocre blue man wins.  And then maybe y'all can join us in doing the hard, daily work that also involves critically acknowledging our own complicity, investment, and inclusion in a violent, illegitimate space.  We have to live in these contradictions, to push and transform it, and remember that there are no cheat codes here.  Just grinding work, and no cookies or congratulation.

Be fucking better, y'all.

[reminiscing-writer]

Let Him Talk

-

Mostly a way for me to project my feelings of how much I hate when the BAU team dismisses our boy Spence every time he starts to ramble.

Let the man speakkkk

-

Spencer Reid rambled. A lot. It didn't take long after joining the BAU for you to figure this little fact out.

The first time you witnessed this, was when Emily had asked him what he was doing for Halloween. Her question was followed by a long and detailed history of the fellow Doctors favorite holiday. His answer was followed by an eye roll from her.

After that, you and all your colleagues were seated on the jet. This was around the time when JJ was on her maternity leave, and Agent Seaver was conversing with Spencer. You heard her mumble a quick 'Sorry I asked'.

You knew the team never meant any harm by their dismissals, but you also knew it must sting Spencer. After all, you knew first hand what it was like to have your feelings swept under the rug. Slowly, you had started to indicate to Spence you were listening to his rambles. A small nod, a tiny smile.

Now, you and the team were all brainstorming ideas in the local Chicago police department. 4 female bodies in the past month. All of the women were bartenders from the same club. All seemingly poisoned.

You inhaled a sharp breath and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"I think I got it!" Dr. Reid came bursting into the room, grabbing everyone's attention.

Slowly all of the team members followed him back to the room he was working on. Papers and books were scattered all over the floor. (After all, he always said he worked best on the ground.)

His hands got into the weird crab position before the words even left his lips. "The most common date rape drugs- also called club drugs- are flunitrazepam, gamma hydroxybutyric acid, and ketamine. These drugs may come as pills, liquids, or powders. The very few witnesses we do have, all said the same thing. Our vic's were all employees, and as the night went on, they all started to speak with slurred speech, and had a clouded look glaze their eyes. Now, we already now that those are symptoms, or rather, side effects of these 'date rape drugs'," he uses his fingers to air quote, "but-," his explanation continues, when Hotch shoots me a look with raised eyebrows.

The team knew you were all-ears when it came to the Doctors rambles, but even you could see that you were all short on time.

"Spence," you cut him short. You walked closer to him, holding strong eye contact, "The point." He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What is it that you figured out?" You clearified.

"Oh," he blinked, "um- right. The girls mustve been roofied with the standard Rohypnol. Obviously, they wouldn't be allowed to drink on the job. But, they were bartenders, and they would need to drink something. Assuming they have their own water bottles, that's our best bet."

As soon as the Boy Genius stopped speaking, the team quickly rustled out of their seats. Hotch barked orders for Morgan and Rossi to follow him to the workplace of the victims, while Emily and JJ were told to go to the coronors office. You and Spence were instructed to head over to the evidence lockers and look for the girls water bottles.

You jumped to your feet, and before you turned away from Spencer, you quickly stepped closer to him. "Sorry, for cutting you off earlier." You apologized softly.

He shrugged with a half smile, "I'm used to it." He adjusted his satchels strap on his shoulder.

You playfully nudged him with your elbow, smiling, "You can finish your ramble on the plane." His eyes seemingly softened, "Promise." You jokingly blew him an air kiss.

-

He was right. As he always was.

The owner of the bar was drugging the girls water bottles. Not a big enough dose to affect them right away, but enough so that it took them out slowly throughout the day. After their shifts ended, he would play Knight-in-Shining-Armor, and offer them a 'ride home'.

Luckily, Morgan had got a confession out of the bastard before they even got him back to the Police Station. Turns out, he was a bigger wuss than you all thought.

Wrapping up the case was followed by all of team piling back into the tiny jet which brough you guys to Illinois. Emily and Rossi were laughing over a silly game of chess. Hotch was on the phone with Jack, same as how JJ was on FaceTime call with her boys.

You were wrapped up reading a book, seated next to Spence.

He had an eidetic memory. You, however, did not. So, you seemingly forgot about something that was bugging him. Frankly, you barely noticed how the fellow Doctor kept peeping over to you with shy eyes.

He cleared his throat, softly calling you by your nickname, then quickly apologizing for interrupting your reading.

You look over to him, putting an index finger where your reading had paused, "It's alright," you smiled nodding him to go on with his question.

"It's just," he scratched the back of his neck, "you had said that you were interested in listening to the rest of what I had to say about the drugs earlier," he spoke quickly and unsurly, "and if you really were up for it," he seemed to trail himself off.

Your brain clicked at the previous 'promise' you had given him, "Yes! Spence, you gotta remind me, I forgot." You laughed, pulling your legs up onto the seat, and turning your body towards him, "Educate me." You closed the book you were reading, and stuffed it into the back of the seat in front of you.

"Okay," Reid seemed unsure for a split second. All of his confidence slowly found place in his words, as he saw that you were truly interested in his facts. How your eyes lit up at his sentences, and how you would follow his hands actions.

You were fascinated by the man before you.

Why wouldn't you be. Can you imagine having a friend who knows so much? How would you not be endlessly fascinated and enamored? He’s so cute and brave and brilliant and these people do not give him the respect and credit he deserves.

-

-

The last italic part ⬆️ is literally a copy and paste from an OG post of @x-maegana-x

Their post is what honestly really inspired me to write this piece. So hey. Huge credit to them 👌🏻

[snowflake-of-destruction]

Imagine Roxas’s reaction to seeing Axel shirtless when he started getting buff for the first time

Enjoy the distraction of the evening and Roxas and Sora bonding, and be warned of language and reference to adult situations.

"Can I complain to you about Riku for a second?" Sora asked. It was perhaps not the ideal time to start a new conversation as Roxas was in the process of landing the gummi ship in a clear spot of grass in the courtyard outside the entrance to the keyblade academy at the Land of Departure, but that was how Sora was, keeping things in and then letting them explode forth at times that often seemed odd to others, but were simply the breaking point to him.

"No, I require at least ten minutes of complaining about Riku every week,"Roxas deadpanned, guiding the ship down between two others already parked. "You know the time table. Three minutes without air. Three days without food. Seven days without busting Riku's silver dusted balls."

"Gold," Sora chirped, unbuckling his restraints and going for the door.

"I'm going to regret this," Roxas sighed, half to himself as he followed suit,  "But...what?"

"Gold medal," Sora grinned. "Everything in that area is nothing less than first place." 

"Strongly disagree." Roxas screwed up his face in exaggerated disgust.

"You have no way of..." Sora complained as they started up to the castle.

"Please, can we get to the complaining?" Roxas cut him off.

"It's official even. The council of judges, me and Data Sora judging pictures saved on my gummi phone, awarded him the blue ribbon. I tied it..." 

"I will give you all the munny in my munny bag not to finish that sentence." It was pretty clear to Roxas that Sora was torturing him on purpose for crimes of his past lives. Sometimes he still hated his other.

"Then I suppose you don't want to hear about the ribbon cutting ceremony either? Or, well, it was more of a ribbon untying ceremony. I'm not usually good at tongue tricks like the cherry thing so I was kind of proud of myself that I managed to..."

The pattern of hasty interruption of an oblivious or happily malicious Sora continued. "For the love of sea salt ice cream, Sora, I'm begging you to stop before I hurl."

"What were you talking about before?" Sora blanked and grasped at straws of stray thought. "Tortillas?"

"What? Why would you think that?"

"It was taco night when I came up with the ribbon ceremony."

"You were going to tell me how much Riku was annoying you."

 The enlightened glow of remembrance entered Sora's eyes, but the spark of happiness at conquering his brain only lasted a moment before Sora was collapsing against the doors of the castle academy, playing up the drama of whining, "Riku is driving me crazy!"

"That's more like it! Tell me all about it."  Roxas was perhaps a bit overzealous in his support, judging by the look Sora shot him, so he tried a more nonchalant and less gleeful tone, "You'll feel better."

"He keeps looking at me like I'm going to disappear in front of his eyes. He's woken me up in the middle of the night to make sure I'm still breathing. He keeps tripping me up in battle because he's started diving between me and the Heartless, like all of a sudden I can't take care of myself. I know why it's happening, and I know he means well, but I'm not sure how much longer I can take it. Do you have that problem with Axel?"

Now, he and Axel had to work through some anxiety about being separated again. It had taken a lot of long talks, time, and trust exercises, to work through them, but now Roxas could help Sora with Riku's issues from the point of view of someone who had been there before and gotten out. Or he could just make a joke. "Well, I'm afraid he'll get caught in a strong wind one night and snap in half, but I'm trying to keep myself rational. I mean I can stick unwound hangers in his clothes to try and create a brace from something more substantial than his limbs, and I can put a bell on him so I don't lose track of him when he turns sideways, but after we take all the precautions we can, all I can do is tell him to be careful lifting his keyblade so it doesn't break his arm, and look at the positive. He and Jack Skellington wear the same size jacket and being able to trade clothes with  the King of Halloween is pretty cool."

"What are you talking about?"

Roxas steeled himself to be drawn into a serious talk anyway, taking a spot leaning against the doors alongside Sora and putting a hand on his shoulder, dearly hoping someone didn't open the door from the other side and send them sprawling. "Listen, I picked a ridiculous example, but the same principle applies. Take measures to keep each other safe--simple ones that don't stop you from being able to do your job-- talk about what his fears are, and then just try to find silver linings and agree to live your lives. You guys are going to be okay."

"Oh yeah, I know that,"  Sora dismissed, shaking off his hand. "I was just letting off steam. Riku's actually being really sweet. I just need to make him realize what he's doing before he finds a way to sacrifice himself again to keep me safe. What you said about Axel doesn't make sense though. He's ripped."

"He's a twig," Roxas countered with a scoff. "He's got the muscle mass of the jelly creature from Monstropolis, and looks like it the time it let me suck it into a large straw to make Boo laugh. I love him but he's a scarecrow. My stickman scarecrow, and I love him, but let's be realistic."

The light of dawning realization lit Sora's eyes once more, and Roxas found it a bit unnerving. He was definitely missing something. "...Haven't you visited Axel since he started training with Terra?"

"No, this is my first visit, to see Terra confer the master title on him." Master ceremonies had become a big thing now, a little pomp and circumstance to make it seem more important, Roxas guessed. Riku had missed out. Too bad for him. "He was on a journey of the soul as well as the body...Whatever that means. Terra didn't want me distracting him."

"That's what makes it more fun. When I went to retake my mark of mastery at Yensid's tower...Wait a second, Terra ordered you to do something and you just listened?" Sora's pursed lips and glaring eyes spoke more of tantrum throwing toddler than betrayed friend.

"He's a master," Roxas answered simply, though it wasn't respect for orders of a master that held him back. He could have been a master too, if he wanted, if he felt like he needed the validation of being recognized by the others and wanted to jump through hoops set up by Yensid or Aqua or even worse options. He had been named master of the keyblade by the Organization, that was enough. He and Axel had agreed they would help guard the worlds but they wouldn't play into the ranking game. Axel had changed his mind, and Roxas respected that, but he felt no compulsion to join him.

"You never listen when Riku tells you to do something. He's a master too."

"Master, my ass."

"No, master of my..."

"Why do you have to be like this?" Roxas groaned, sliding to the ground.

"Don't get pissy just because you haven't gotten laid in months."

"I didn't visit because Axel told me not to. We've been doing the long distance thing. We've done it before for stretches, like when he and Isa were working on their first book,"Roxas answered Sora's original question, loudly, to change the subject.

"But you've talked on the gummi phone?"

"Every night."

"With video?"

"Is this going back to a weird place you never leave?"

"I live in the gutter now!" Sora confirmed happily, before going back to neutral. "No, it's a serious question. Have you gotten a good look at Axel recently?"

"Same loveable bozo sleeping in a fuzzy zip up adult onesie that makes him look like a Meow Wow  he's always been. "

"You haven't seen him out of the onesie?" At Roxas's exasperated look, Sora defended himself once more. "Legitimate question."

"Some nights I don't even see him take down the hood. He has a voice for Meowaxel."

"And you were griping about the ribbon ceremony. Your sex story is much weirder."

"We don't have phone sex," Roxas's pining despair outweighed his distaste for discussing this kind of thing with Sora who was a dog that never let go of a bone without making a joke about boning. "We have an agreement. He almost crashed a gummi ship once."

"You...while he was driving?" Sora looked impressed and Roxas felt a rare flash of shame.

"New idea?" He pushed through and said the words as if they were a crack of his own.

"Great idea!" Sora's face split into a wide grin and Roxas apologized to Riku internally, the only way he ever did so. Sora grabbed his former Nobody's arm and dragged him to his feet. "Come on. We're going to spy on Axel sparring with Terra. They have a routine. Terra wouldn't deviate from it even knowing people are arriving for the ceremony tonight."

"I am always down to see my baby light someone on fire," Roxas followed Sora down the hill, pliable and, frankly, excited to see Axel as soon as possible.

"Baby? Blech." Sora pulled a face that lasted maybe half a second and rang false while it did, thrilled and supportive as always to see Roxas showing a soft spot, but attempting to play some of Roxas's own attitude back at him.

"Your pet names for Riku are worse...and you should not prove it by listing them." Roxas tacked on the latter part hastily, leaving no room for Sora to start his reign of terror anew.

" There are several riffs on Dream Eater that would make you wish you were as smart as me," Sora huffed, "But that's not what we're here for." He held Roxas back for a second with a thrown out arm, and glanced around the last bend in the hill. Roxas could hear sounds of exertion. Satisfied with what he saw, Sora withdrew the restraining arm in favor of waving his hands like a cheap magician as he ordered Roxas to, "Feast your eyes!"

Roxas ignored Sora's theatrics and stepped around him, only to stop short when he ended up following the other man's order despite himself. His eyes were feasting and there was an entire buffet in the form of Axel, stripped to the waist and hair up in a messy bun with damp loose tendrils stuck to the back of his neck, twisting away to avoid a strike by Terra (in his weird black spandex shirt like always, showing off for who the hell knew or cared) and using the momentum to whirl the rest of the circle and carry out his own blow, the flex and spring back of newly defined muscles Roxas had missed the development of covered by freckled skin that didn't quite make the definition of tan but had been cultivated into a tone more golden than ghost pale translucent on display. The first dish was broad shoulders that had always  been there, but no longer existed just to make clothes hang smoothly like they did on a clothes hanger now that they were attached to the freshly carved meat station--arms that bulged and Roxas was going to declare illegal to ever hide under bunched neon fleece or a thick black coat again. He'd call Axel's new abs the salad bar because he wanted to charge like a bull and then start grazing, but they could also be the drink station because there was definitely a six pack there much more appealing than the beer Hayner had developed a fondness for, and Roxas was remarkably thirsty looking at them. Axel's waist was still comparatively small (Dorito. Delicious. More buffets should include snack food on the side. Jokes weren't over. The man was a snack.) but then there was perhaps the most shocking addition of all had popped into existence below it.

"Bite the buns and have a popsicles for dessert," Roxas whispered under his breath, awed, unable to even be embarrassed by half consciously daydreaming out loud because his eyes had continued their journey and found out there was now meat on the stork (too long to be chicken) drumsticks Axel walked around on.

"Think he's safe from the wind now?" Sora taunted.

"Time for you to leave." Roxas shook himself out of his daze to return fully to the present.

"What?"

"Run up to the castle," Roxas gave the same order in new phrasing as he walked on ahead and waved to Terra, yelling, "Time to leave."

The scene that ensued was bordering on comical as Terra froze, caught off guard and was smacked full in the face with head turning force by the flat of Axel's keyblade, an act that was accompanied by an apologetic, "Oh shit!" and widened eyes that spoke to Axel trying to cut his actions short but being unable to stop the blow, just lessen it. Terra stumbled and Axel reached out to steady him, but then appeared to change his mind or become irrevocably distracted halfway through as Roxas's presence sank in fully. His keyblade disappeared in a shower of sparks, Terra fell, and the lovers ran to be reunited. 

Roxas found himself lifted off the ground like he weighed nothing and his soul left his body, leaving him not responsible for the happily sighed word that he used to greet Axel, "Arms."

[alitaimagines]

“oh, baby, it's alright now, you ain't gotta flaunt for me. if we go and touch, you can still touch my love, it's free. we can work without the perks just you and me.”

LEVI ACKERMAN ☆ ATTACK ON TITAN

note: I finally reached three thousand followers!! three thousand of you read the bullshit I write. I can’t thank you guys enough for it. the continuation of THIS and THIS. although I’m getting the feeling that a lot of people didn’t read the first one so I linked both. 

“so, how did it go?” Mikasa asked while you and her were on your first break of the day, “fine for the most part. we’re just planning on taking it slow and see how it goes.” 

she gave you a small smile before taking out the broken flower you had taken out of the trash when Levi wasn’t looking. 

“but something is going on,” you whispered, “when I walked into work this morning, I seen this flower on my desk. I originally thought it was Levi’s but when I asked, he said he didn’t do it. there was a note and the initials were H.B.” 

Mikasa read over the note before thinking for a moment, “I don’t know anyone with those initials. you should ask Reiner or Eren, maybe they’d know,” she offered as you shrugged, “I’ll have to ask but I’m dying to know.”

she pointed behind you as you noticed Reiner and his right hand man walking behind him. you waved at them as they pulled chairs to the table. 

“hey Reiner, can I ask you something?” he nodded as you handed him the note, “do you know anyone with those initials? I found that note with a flower on my desk this morning but I haven’t been able to figure who it is.” 

Reiner scanned the note and tried to figure it out but came up with nothing, “no clue, babe. however let me know when you find out, I’m interested to see who it is,” he exclaimed as you rolled your eyes.

you gave a look to Bertholdt and gave him a smile.

“you wouldn’t happen to know, Bertl?” the tall boy shook his head no, “you could ask Eren?” he whispered as you sighed, “no use. I’ll just have to try and figure this out. I could ask Erwin but I would feel like it’s a bit out of place,” you thought to yourself before realizing that you break was over. 

“I’ll see you guys for lunch? if you guys figure it out, let me know!” 

once Reiner saw that the two of you were no longer in sight, he looked over to Bertholdt, “if you’re going to be secretive, at least don’t make it obvious that it was you!” Reiner proclaimed as Bertholdt perked up in nervousness, “all you did was flip your initials. I have to give it to you though, that was pretty smooth.” 

Bertholdt played with his fingers, “I left her another one on her desk before we came. hopefully she doesn’t figure it out,” he murmured as Reiner gave him a surprised look, “really? I didn’t even see you do it!”

you walked back into Levi’s office to see him at his desk and holding another flower along with a note. you couldn’t help but start laughing before grabbing the baby pink rose and the note. 

“every time I see you, I fall in love again - H.B.” 

your eyes widened at the note before Levi took it back, “hey, give me that! I want to show Mikasa!” you exclaimed trying to reach over to grab the note. 

he remained in his seat and threw the note into the trash bin before handing you multiple different files, “these need to be done and reported on before the end of the day,” you stuck your tongue out at him as you grabbed them and went back to your desk, “these need to be done and reported on before the end of the day,” you mocked before popping one of your headphones in. 

doing what you did with the previous note, you waited until he left to grab it from the bin. you read it over and over again until Levi came back into the room and quickly put it into your backpack. 

the files you had to work on for Levi were fairly easy and although you would have finished before lunch, you dragged it on for a bit so it gave you something to do for the second half of the day. 

once you heard your watch indicate that your lunch hour was finally here, you gave Levi all the finished files before grabbing your lunch bag and heading to the common area. 

this time around, you weren’t on break with Mikasa and knew it was best to keep it to yourself until you told her. you didn’t want it getting around the company and have Hanji pestering you about it. 

“so, what is everyone’s plans tonight?” Connie asked as you stared at him blankly, “nothing. I have to clean my room tonight. Why?” you asked as he shrugged, “Sasha and I wanted to have a game night, all of you should come!” he offered. 

all of you gave vague responses as you watched Levi stare at you. you gave him a discreet wink before taking a bite of your food. he gave you the tiniest of smiles before tuning back into what Erwin and Mike were telling him. 

you tapped your fork on the table as you continued thinking of that note. Sasha was able to notice your change in attitude, “earth to ( your name )! what is up with you!” she asked with a mouthful of food. you shook your head and tried to dismiss the conversation. 

she gave you a ‘this isn’t over’ look as you decided to get up and make your way back to Levi’s office. you still had a few minutes in your break but you figured getting back a bit earlier wouldn’t hurt. 

as soon as you entered his office, he was on the phone talking to god knows who when he called you to sit in the seat in front of him. you nodded as you grabbed your phone and waited for him to get off his call. 

you could tell he was getting more and more annoyed as the call continued. it wasn’t until he made up a lie that he finally hung it up and took a deep breath before looking at you. 

“what are you doing tonight?” he asked in that deep tone of voice that made your heart flutter a bit. you thought about Connies offer, “you should come over. I’ll make us dinner,” he continued. 

Connie and everyone else wouldn’t mind if you missed tonight’s hang out, you were sure of it, “and what is the great Levi Ackerman going to cook for me?” you asked in a taunting tone, “leave that up for me to figure out. you can leave your car here and I’ll just pick you up tomorrow before working.”

you thought for a moment. what if everyone saw you and Levi together? you were sure that it would get a bunch of people talking and probably have a bunch of unsolicited comments made towards you. 

“what if everyone sees?” you asked as he rolled his eyes, “we’re not even official and I don’t want people thinking that you’re my sugar daddy of some sort,” you added. 

Levi scoffed, “what did I tell you earlier? fuck what everyone else thinks,” he stated making you laugh nervously, “so are you going to come over?” he asked again. you sighed before agreeing. 

“it’s different for you. the men in this company would praise you for reeling in the hot assistant but I would be the one getting the comments about using you for money and being called a hoe.” 

his eyes widened for a moment, “and if I ever found out that someone said that, they’d be fired the moment after they finished that sentence,” you slumped in your seat as Levi could tell that regardless of what he told you, those thoughts would still be running in your head. 

“we can come in before any of these useless employee’s get here,” he finally said, “just so no one sees you if you’re that concerned about it,” you smiled before going around his desk and giving him a peck on the cheek. 

“you missed.” 

you rolled your eyes before leaning down and giving him kiss on his lips. he deepened it as you sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck as the kiss continued. 

it wasn’t until there was a knock on the door that you jumped out of his arms and quickly ran back to your desk as he called for whoever it was to come in. you smiled seeing Bertholdt walking in. 

“hey Bertl!” you exclaimed as Levi gave him a blank look, “Erwin was wondering if you finished that report for the Military Police. they’ve been calling him about it all day.” 

you put your hand up, “I’m working on that as we speak. it should be done within the next five minutes so if you want to sit and wait for me?” you asked giving him a smile that seemed a bit too sweet. 

Bertholdt nodded as he sat in front of your desk as the two of you made small talk. Levi was able to tell the small blush on his cheeks as the two of you talked and frankly, he didn’t like it. 

although Bertholdt wasn’t a man of many words, Levi saw that you and him got along a lot more compared to others in the company. the conversation hardly went stale and in his gut, there was something telling Levi to watch out for Bertholdt. 

“and I’m done!” you told him, “tell Erwin I’m sorry it wasn’t done but I filling out other work for Levi!” you exclaimed as Bertholdt waved you off. 

“are you going to Connie’s later? I was just wondering since everyone else was,” you shook your head no before giving Levi a quick look, “no, I have other plans but I’ll be there on Friday, you can count on it,” you told him. 

Levi was able to tell that Bertholdt was seemingly disappointed in your response and felt his anger rise a bit as he watched him leave. he knew you weren’t intentionally trying to make him jealous so he didn’t bother to bring it up to you.

from that point on, Levi was going to make sure that he was present whenever you had to be around Bertholdt. his gut feeling was never wrong and he wasn’t about to start doubting it now. 

ALITA 

[petersasteria]

Past is Past - Peter Parker AU

Pairing: Peter x Reader, Harry Osborn x Reader Requested? Nah. It based on one of @writing-prompt-s’ prompts. 2.5k words Warning/s: character death, confusion, a satisfied ending

PP Masterlist

Big thanks to my friend @croissantwriting for the help! She’s doing a little gift-giving this Christmas, so if you want a gift from a stranger who’s super nice and friendly, check it out! 

* * * *

“She’s not getting any better, Mr. Parker. I’m afraid she’ll be going soon.” The doctor told Peter with no expression on their face. The doctor kept their face neutral, so that it wouldn’t be an issue for anyone. It was also protocol at the hospital.

The doctor excused themselves and left Peter standing alone in the cold hallway outside of his wife’s room. Peter couldn’t believe that he would lose the person he truly loved; he would lose her to cancer. ‘Fuck cancer.’ He thought. He wanted his wife to live long; to see their children grow up to be the people they’re meant to be. Alas, it was just wishful thinking.

You see, Peter was immortal. In a world where 2% of the population are born immortal, he was one of them. It could be anyone, really. One’s parents don’t have to be immortal for one to be immortal. They were just cursed that way. Being born immortal was God’s cruel way of letting people stay on Earth to be His stewards of creation for eternity. Whether they like it or not, if they were born immortal, they are immediately tied up and forced into the duty of being God’s steward.

The duty of being God’s steward felt wrong. It feels wrong  to watch mortals move on with their lives while some get stuck, getting caught by the sorrow of this immortality that has been given upon them.

Peter had the saddest eyes for a long time, but it all changed when he met the love of his life. Peter has seen things; someone’s last breath, some more heart breaking scenarios, etc. But everything changed when she came into his life. She appeared as someone new... and well, unexpected. She was a great surprise, though. She gave Peter a brand new purpose, she gave him happiness. Every time Peter was with her, he would forget about his curse.

Peter’s eyes held sadness again and it broke his heart to know that he couldn’t do anything to save her; his one true love. His heart broke at the harsh reality that no matter what happens, he’ll eternally stay on Earth while he watches his loved ones pass on.

Gathering up his courage, Peter took a deep breath before entering her hospital room. He quietly entered her room and slowly shut the door behind him. He observed the sight in front of him: his wife slept peacefully with their youngest son next to her on the bed while their two older children were asleep on the couch.

He silently approached the bed and held his wife’s hand as he sat on the chair that was next to her bed. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. This caused her to stir awake and look at him with a small smile adoring her face.

“Peter.” She breathed.

“Hey there.” Peter said softly as tears clouded his vision. It pained him to see her like that; weak and fragile and ill. If only there was a cure for her cancer, he would’ve given it to her in a heartbeat.

“I love you, Peter. So much.” She whispered.

“I love you more than everything else.” Peter said as tears freely streamed down his rosy cheeks.

“Please remember that my love for you is eternal. I’ll look for you in the next life just so I can love you the way I love you now. I promise you that, Peter.” She smiled softly. Peter could only nod, not trusting his voice to speak.

That was their last moment together. She died in her sleep, her youngest cuddling up to her as Peter held her hand.

The moment life left her body, God took it and gave it to the baby girl of the woman giving birth at the same hospital on a different floor.

“Baby, wake up or you’ll be late on your first day.” The man’s voice whispered in her ear. “Y/N, seriously. It’s time to get up. I’ll have the car ready for you.”

Y/N groaned and rubbed the sleep off her eyes before stretching and sitting up. She slowly opened her eyes and the sight of her boyfriend of three years greeted her. She smiled at him and said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning!” He smiled and leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead. “Breakfast is ready.” She hummed in response and got out of bed. Her boyfriend, Harry, led the way to the dining area and as soon as they arrived there, they sat down and ate their breakfast in peace.

Today was their first day in college and they decided it would be best to live together in an apartment near their university. Harry Osborn, Y/N’s boyfriend, was privileged and he was able to buy an apartment unit that suited his standards. After all, his girl deserved the best. Harry is kind and generous which surprised a lot of people considering his lifestyle. Y/N was truly lucky, but Harry claims that he’s the lucky one.

The couple parted their ways when they arrived at the university; both of them studying different courses. The rest of the day was alright. Nothing really significant happened and Y/N kept to herself most of the time. Only mingling when she’s supposed to. It wasn’t until her last subject when things started taking a turn.

Y/N sat at the back of the class and texted Harry as student after student came in the classroom. About ten minutes later, Y/N’s professor walked in.

Her professor was undeniably handsome. He had brown, curly hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short either. His height was just right. He looked like he was in his thirties and he had the brightest smile. Naturally, the girls in her class swooned over him which made her chuckle. While she would admit that her professor is handsome, her loyalty remained with Harry. He was her endgame and she was sure. They wouldn’t last long if he wasn’t.

“Hello, everyone! My name is Noah Parker and I’d let you guys call me by my nickname, but that would be unprofessional. So, Mr. Parker or sir would be really nice.” Noah smiled at everyone. He wasted no time in teaching.

“Welcome to history 101 and I’ll be your professor for the whole semester.” Noah smiled and grabbed a chalk to write something on the board. Seeing as the class is for three hours, Noah started with the first lesson.

It was obvious that Noah was passionate about history. Everyone listened and he made history fun. They did some ice breakers and a short group activity and a quick game before the class ended. Noah gave them their first assignment which was really easy and it would be passed two days from now.

The class was dismissed and everyone gathered their things and left. Y/N took her time and Noah was erasing the things he wrote on the board. Y/N approached him and cleared her throat, “Excuse me, Mr. Parker?”

Noah turned around with a smile, but it quickly faded when he saw her. He dropped the eraser as his jaw dropped, his gaze remaining on her. Y/N was confused, so she just picked up the eraser and put it on his desk to avoid Noah’s gaze.

Noah shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, it’s just- mom? Is that you?”

Now, it was definitely weird

“Excuse me?” Y/N chuckled awkwardly.

“I can’t believe it.” Noah said in amusement. “I thought dad was crazy, but he’s right! You’d be in the next life after all. Well, your next life. You and dad can be together again! This is so cool. Oh my god.” Noah rambled in excitement.

“I’m so confused right now.” Y/N confessed. “I’m no one else’s mom and I don’t know who your dad is and I’m definitely not getting back together with anyone because I have a boyfriend. You must be mistaken, sir.”

Noah cleared his throat and said, “Um, was there anything you needed before?”

“Oh, yes!” Y/N’s eyes lit up at the change of topic. It was her saving grace. “I have a question about the homework, actually.”

Y/N asked about the homework and Noah happily explained it to her once more. After that, she left Noah all alone in the classroom.

Since then, everything has been awkward between them. Noah informed his father, Peter Parker, about what happened and Peter wanted to see her; to see if it was true. Now, it was Noah’s mission to get you to meet Peter.

One day after class, Noah asked Y/N to stay behind. She awkwardly sat on the seat in front of his desk and Noah sat on his chair behind his desk.

“I would just like to apologize for my behavior last time.” Noah started. “Second of all, I must tell you that I have this weird connection to you. No matter how far I stay away from you, there’s a force pulling me closer to you. Lastly, if you won’t believe me before, you might believe me now.”

Noah took out his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He opened his gallery and clicked on the album full of photos from his childhood, most of them had his mom in it. He handed the phone to Y/N and she gasped at the sight of the photos.

It was like she was looking at a window to the past. The woman in the pictures looked similar to her; not completely alike. She returned the phone to her professor, Noah, and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Um, I don’t know what to say.” Y/N said.

“Could you maybe meet my dad? It would mean a lot to him. I told you about him and he wants to see you.” Noah pleaded.

“I find this really weird, to be honest.” Y/N said. “I don’t know anything you’re talking about and frankly, I’m not curious about my past life...sir.”

“I understand, but could you maybe reconsider? My dad would love it if you’d visit.” Noah pleaded. “If you meet my dad, I’ll give you extra credit. You kinda suck at this subject, no offense.”

“None taken.” She said as she thought about it. “What if someone becomes suspicious about my grades going up?”

“I’ll just say that it’s because of your extra work and just say that you’ve been studying a lot recently. So, does this mean that you’ll meet him?” Noah asked hopefully.

“Fine. Mainly because I need extra credit.” Y/N agreed. She wordlessly grabbed her things and left the room. Later that night, she received an email from Noah.

Noah Parker To Y/N Y/L/N

Good evening, Ms. Y/L/N! 

My father would like to meet with you at my childhood home at 123 Hamilton Street, this Saturday at lunch time, 12 noon. Please confirm if you’re available at this time and if not, we can reschedule.

My personal phone number is: xxx-xxx-xxxxx. Please contact me there for more details.

All information will be kept between the two of us .

Thank you and stay safe!

Lo and behold, Y/N stood outside the Parker Residence. She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. It didn’t take long for a young man to open the door. He looked similar to Noah, but he looked younger.

“Please come in.” The man said as he looked at her. She entered the home and the man led the way to the living room. Y/N made herself comfortable on the couch and the man who opened the door sat across from her.

“Um, I’m Y/N.” She smiled.

“I know.” The man said. “I’m Peter Parker and oh my god. It’s really you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relation to my professor, Noah Parker?” Y/N asked innocently.

“He’s my son.” Peter answered. “And you’re my wife.”

Y/N stared at him as Peter had happy tears streaming down his face, “We can finally be together again and we’ll be happier than ever! We could be a family.”

“I’m so confused. How can you be Mr. Parker father when you look like you’re twenty-three?!” Y/N shrieked.

“I’m immortal, honey. I stopped aging at twenty, but I’m still me! I love you and you love me. We can be together.”

“I’m so sorry, but I don’t know who you are and I can’t just start a life with someone I don’t know. If you think I can do that, then you’re sorely mistaken, sir.” Y/N said.

Peter shook his head, “But you said , on your deathbed, that you’d find me in another life. I’m here! We found each other. I don’t understand why you don’t want to stay. You said that your love for me is eternal and you’d love me the same way you did then. What happened? Why can’t we pick up where we left off?”

“With all due respect, if what you claim is right; if I’m your wife in the past, then I’m sorry I can’t be your wife in this life. I have my own things going on and I’m in a committed and happy relationship. I can’t leave him for you. Besides, you’re way older than I am despite your looks. I’m really sorry.” Y/N said softly.

“This is more heartbreaking than when we found out you had cancer.” Peter chuckled bitterly and nodded in understanding. “You may go now, Y/N. I’m sure your boyfriend would wonder where you are.”

Y/N stood up and walked to him to put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m really sorry, but I’d like to get to know you… as friends.”

Peter nodded, “Alright. That’s better than nothing.”

After that encounter with Peter, Y/N saw him a few times after that even after she graduated from college. She got a decent job and her friendship with Peter and the rest of the Parker family remained. Though they never saw each other after she got a job, they all remained in contact.

Y/N and Harry Osborn finally got married after being together for so long. The Parkers were invited to the wedding, but Peter never showed up. He was crestfallen upon finding out that the woman he loved was getting married to someone else.

A year later, Y/N and Harry welcomed their first born in the world. They have been graced with a son and the couple agreed that if they were going to have a son, Y/N would name him.

As she laid there with the newborn baby boy in her arms, she racked her brains for the perfect name. After thinking about it for a long time, a smile formed her mouth as she looked down at her son. They were alone in the room, her husband was buying some food outside. This moment was very soft and peaceful.

“I know what name to give you now.” Y/N whispered and kissed her son’s forehead. The door opened and revealed her husband with a paper bag with take-out in it.

“Have you thought of a name?” Harry asked quietly as he set the food down on the table.

“Yeah.” She nodded, sure of her decision.

“What’ll you name him?” Harry asked.

“Peter.” She smiled fondly at her son. “His name is Peter.”

* * * *

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @harryismysunflower @buckys-little-hoe @sandystoriess @heeeyitskay @slytherin-chaser @quaksonhehe @yaya4302 @lil-mellow-bunbun @starlight-starks @swiftmind @alexx-stancati @sovereignparker @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @pearce14 @cherthegoddess @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy @parkerlovebot @supred12 @peterspidey @givebuckyhisplumsnow @beverlythrillz @slutforsr

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:  @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @allyz @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen  @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @fancyxparker​ @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @theonly1outof-a-billion @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess

[gohyuck]

hi, for the dreamie drabble game; jeno with 4, 8 and 6 please ^^

based off of this post

this is highkey a ficlet because it’s 1.7k words but whatever

okay i wanna expand this and make it a full fic with a lot more detail and timestamps but idk if anyone would ever want that so lmk if you do i guess?

4: college

8: childhood friends

6:  “you used to joke calling me little brother but something changed and now you’re my girl.”

[february of 2019]

after being denied entry at not one but two frat parties (dismissed each time with ‘what kind of freshmen think they’re allowed in?’ and laughter that can only be described as mocking) your friends and you find yourselves back where you pre-gamed: the lobby of your residence hall. your RA has been turning a blind eye for quite some time (you mentally thank johnny for being the chillest person alive), allowing all of you to drink almost completely freely in your dorm’s common areas.

as you settle onto one of the beat up couches in the corner farthest away from the entrance, you can’t help but survey your surroundings. mark is getting his ass absolutely handed to him by donghyuck at the center pool table while renjun discreetly videotapes the debacle. you have a sneaking suspicion that he’ll edit it to death (you can envision it now - the camera zooming in on mark’s face after he accidentally hits the 8 ball in prematurely, colors fading to black and white as wasted swims across the screen in bold, brilliantly red letters) and post it on his growing youtube channel by tomorrow night. jaemin, ryujin, and chaeryeong are parked in front of the sole tv, hollering drunkenly at whatever game replay is flashing across the screen. yeji and chenle are bickering over something or the other - “a yellow hat? with that monstrosity of a jacket? are you out of your damn mind, zhong?” - and jisung, who, like chenle, is definitely still a high schooler, sits on his phone in a corner of the room, likely playing pubg.

even in a room full of the people you love most, however, your gaze ends up naturally falling on the person beside you - jeno, who pauses in whatever he’s doing (moving magazines off of the coffee table so he can put his feet on it) to send you a small smile that makes your heart beat out of your chest. he finishes up, setting his bottle of dos equis down on a haphazard stack of time mags before leaning back onto the couch, throwing one of his arms around you as he does. before you can say anything, he pulls you into his chest, pressing his lips to your temple.

you relax into his arms, knowing it’s exactly where you’re meant to be. frankly, you note, it’s a wonder that it wasn’t always like this.

[june of 2012]

you shift awkwardly on your feet as you wait. you chew on the inside of your cheek, you inspect your nails for dirt not once, not twice, but thrice. the door stays closed, though, and you wonder how long you have to stay before your mother calls you back.

after what feels like a true eternity, you sigh, finally giving up. just as you turn around, however, you hear the door fly open behind you, hitting a wall - or a person, you aren’t sure - with a resounding thwack that makes you wince on impulse. you turn around quickly, only to come face to face with a boy who’s wearing the most sheepish expression of all time.

“hi,” you say once you’ve regathered your wits, stepping forward to reach out your hand. “i’m (name), and i live right next door. i figured i should introduce myself, since you’re new.” a lie. your mom had noticed that your new neighbors seemed to have a kid around your age and had all but forced you to go talk to him. she seemed excited at the prospect of you making a new friend. you? you really couldn’t care less.

the boy smiles, taking your outstretched hand into his. he shakes it once, twice before letting go, and you find yourself smiling back before you can register your own reaction.

“i’m jeno,” he finally says, and a voice in the back of your mind tells you that this moment is important. you push it away. “it was nice to meet you,” he says politely, although not unkindly, and you recognize that neither of you have much else to say to each other. it isn’t an unpleasant end to the conversation, but, and you only realize this much, much later, it’s a reasonably pleasant beginning to the most important friendship of your life.

[april of 2015]

“so i went in and asked for extra credit and, surprisingly, he said y- jeno!” you reach across the table to smack your best friend’s hand away from your basket of french fries, only to hand him one of your precious fries yourself once he pouts at you. your friend felix snorts at your interaction, and you shoot him your best pissed-off glare you can muster.

“i can’t believe mr. kim really gave you extra credit, though. he’s usually kind of a hard ass.” somi brings your attention back to your story, and you nod in agreement.

“maybe he just likes (name),” jeno says, leaning across the food court table to finesse another one of your fries. “after all, who could dislike you?” he directs the last part at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes even as you smile at him.

“you’re just saying that because you want more of my fries,” you state, pulling your tray towards you. your best friend furrows his brow at the growing space between him and his (your) potatoes, but before he can say anything, hyunjin beats him to it.

“we’ll be late to the movie if you two idiots keep flirting, so let’s get a move on, maybe?”

before you and jeno can protest, the rest of your friends are already getting up to go throw away the remnants of their lunches. you simply share a look with jeno that says everything you need to say before you both toss your trash away and move to join the rest of your” friends. as you all fall into step and chatter with each other, jeno throws his arms easily over your shoulder. you fall into his side embrace naturally.

neither of you notice the glances your friends throw at you from time to time.

[january of 2017]

“are you sure you and jeno aren’t a thing?”

somi has always been fairly blunt, and you suppose you can’t blame her for something that’s so inherent. still, you choke on air, forcing daehwi to smack you repeatedly on the back until your breathing pattern restores itself. 

“god no, not at all,” you force out between wheezes. “he’s like - he’s like a little brother to me.”

“so i guess we live in alabama now-” she starts, but before she can finish her sentence, jeno drops his backpack down onto the seat next to you. 

you turn around to greet him, only to be taken aback by just how pissed off he looks. in that moment, you decide it’s better if you leave him alone, though you do make sure to tell yourself to ask him about what’s bothering him after school. after all, he’s your ride home anyways.

“can you find someone else to drive you home today? i have errands to run.” jeno asks you, abruptly pulling you from your thoughts. his voice is low, slightly gruffer than usual. whatever it is must really, really have upset him.

“sure,” you say, shooting him a smile that’s - you hope - reassuring. he doesn’t return the expression, only nodding curtly before moving to pull his notebook out of his backpack. you turn away from him as well to face the board, although you find it hard for you to focus when the teacher starts to drone on and on about l’hospital’s rule.

you started the class period with no worries, and you’re going to end it with two: is your crush on jeno really that obvious? and, speaking of jeno, what’s bothering him so much? it can’t be you, can it?

[september of 2018]

“so that’s it, then?” 

jeno’s voice is steady but as sharp as a knife, and if you weren’t so angry at him you’d stop pacing to ask him if he’s doing okay. unfortunately for both of you, however, you’re pissed. extremely pissed. at him. 

“what’s it? huh? pray, tell me, what the fuck is it?”

“our friendship. it’s over, right? ever since you started hanging out with that prick yeonjun -”

“- he’s not a prick!”

“ever since you’ve started hanging out with him,” jeno continues. “you’ve had no time for me. none! i don’t care if you don’t like me back, but at the very least it would be cool if you made some goddamn time for me!” he slams his hands onto the frame of his bunk bed to emphasize his last point, but you don’t register the noise.

he likes you? jeno... likes you?

“you like me?” your voice is soft, a direct contrast to how jeno’d been speaking only moments earlier. he whips his head around to stare at you, and you see the realization of what he’s said dawn on him.

“fuck...” he murmurs, stepping back to lean against the ladder that’s build into his bed. you take the opportunity to step forward, your chest heaving as you try to let all of your anger go as you realize why jeno’s been acting the way he has.

“i’m not dating yeonjun, by the way,” you finally say once you’re directly in front of him. “how could i, when it’s always been you?”

[back to february of 2019]

“you know, it’s kind of crazy that we ended up together now, just within the last school year, after being best friends for all these years.” you say, looking up at your boyfriend. he raises an eyebrow back at you before leaning both of you over so he can grab his beer. 

“yeah? and whose fault is that?”

“both of ours? duh?” you respond, though you know he’s only messing with you. still, he just laughs before throwing a reply back at you. 

“you used to joke, calling me little brother, but something changed and now you’re my girl.” he emphasizes ‘something’ with just the right amount of pointedness, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“yeah, that something was me confessing to you, you idiot.”

“you only confessed because i told you i liked you first!” he exclaims, and you can’t help but giggle at his antics before craning your neck to press a kiss to his cheek. before jeno can capture your lips with his own, however, you hear someone mutter a ‘disgusting’ from somewhere above you.

you both look up only to come face-to-face with renjun’s video camera.

[trissmarrygoals]

the train room

Here is my secret Santa gift for @knightryder24!  I hope you like it, my mom is a librarian so of course I had to jump on that idea.  This was written for @thewitchersecretsanta, thank you so much for getting this together.  This will be posted on AO3 at some point, so check it out there as well

Warnings: None

The library is quiet at this time of day.  If Geralt is being honest, the library is quiet most times of the day, but he chooses not to dwell on that.  Sure, they have some of the lowest patronage in the system, but they’re also in a dying town with no open businesses aside from the bank.

The quiet seeps into every part of the building, seeming to infect his staff and volunteers.  He’s put Dara, his daughter Ciri’s friend and a reliable volunteer despite being fourteen, to work pulling holds, and Priscilla and Triss are busy at their computers, probably not doing work.  He doesn’t blame them.  He isn’t really doing anything either, just watching over his little library.

He’s been director here for five months, and it hasn’t been easy.  To survive, the library needs to change, and this small Kaedweni town is nothing if not reluctant to change.  He’s the only one of his staff who currently has a masters, although Triss is putting herself through library school. “Someone should be coming about the train room today.”

He spins around.  He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Triss leave her desk and come up behind him.  “Hmm.”

The train room is one of his projects - or it’s going to be, once he’s buttered the board up enough.  Which might take a while, considering he’s socially awkward and prone to underspeaking, but he’ll make it work.  He suspects Calanthe, the frankly terrifying head of the board, thinks of him as crazy in an amusing way, which is a start.

“You won’t have to do anything besides unlocking the back for them,” Triss assures him.  “It’ll probably be Letho, you’ve met him before.”

He appreciates Triss - saying that she keeps him mostly sane at this job wouldn’t be an exaggeration - but he hates the feeling of being handled.  “It’ll be fine, whoever it is.”  She just grins in response.

“Do you know where the key is?”

He doesn’t.

--

He’s not sure what he’s expecting from a firefighter, but it’s definitely not a man his own age in a blue cable knit sweater that brings out his eyes.  The kid looks like all of Geralt’s friends from library school, mashed into one.  Geralt always felt out of place at library school.

He introduces himself as Jaskier.  He’s bright and bubbly and Geralt isn’t sure entirely how to handle him.  Because he doesn’t just take the key from Geralt, oh no.  He clearly wants to talk.

“I heard you’re trying to move our train room!” He says cheerily.  Geralt’s stomach sinks.  He didn’t realize the firefighters had heard about that.  He can’t afford to alienate them.  Jaskier must realize, because he laughs.  “Don’t worry, I think it’s a good idea.  Don’t tell the other firefighters I said that, though.” Geralt relaxes a little, but not all the way.  He rarely relaxes all the way these days.  Or maybe ever.

“Do you want to come in?” Jaskier asks with a bright smile that makes something in Geralt do a flip.  “I can give you the official tour.”

“I’ve been in there.”  Geralt pointedly doesn’t bring up the time he was in there alone and one of the train whistles went off because it was definitely nothing and hadn’t scared him at all.  He does watch Jaskier go in, though.  Not like that, the way people joke about watching people walk away, because Geralt is wildly asexual and doesn’t really get the whole butt thing.  But he appreciates the silhouette of Jaskier in the dark room, the way he moves, the lines of his body.  He’s a beautiful thing.

And suddenly, Geralt knows he’s fucked.

--

The train room opens after Thanksgiving.  Suddenly, Geralt’s little library is flooded with people, none of whom are here for books.  He tries not to be bitter, but as much as he worries about their circulation numbers, he finds he prefers the library quiet.  He likes having it to himself.

There are always firefighters watching the door, welcoming people in.  Geralt’s pretty sure they bro around in the back - the previous director told him tales of them using a grill in the train room, but he’s not sure if there’s truth to it.

He definitely doesn’t hang around to see if he can see Jaskier.  Not at all, not even a little bit, even though Triss definitely notices.  She keeps giving him Looks, which Geralt ignores because nothing is going on.

Except every time Jaskier is there, he always seems to make a point to talk to Geralt.  He’s happy and chipper, but Geralt tries not to read anything into it.  Why would someone like Jaskier be interested in a dour library director?

"You have a daughter, right?" Jaskier asks one day.  "You should bring her by!"

Geralt almost points out that Ciri is fourteen and likely to consider a train room little kid stuff (not to mention that she's heard Geralt ranting about it for the past few months) when Jaskier says, "I'd love to meet her!"

It would, Geralt thinks, probably be good for the library director to be seen engaging in a town tradition, especially since most residents seem to consider him very much an outsider.  Yeah.  He'll drag Ciri along, and maybe Yennefer, for the image.  Or maybe not Yennefer - when they go out in public people tend to make assumptions, and he doesn't want - he doesn't want <i>the town</i> getting the wrong idea.

"We'll be there," he says gruffly, before returning to the shelter of the circulation desk.

--

They go the next weekend.  Ciri is less resistant than expected, mostly because she sees it as an opportunity to engage in her favorite holiday pastime, forcing her dad to engage in "festive" activities and then laughing at him.  In a stunning display of hypocrisy, she also mocks him for the rare times he gets too into the season's spirit (he and his brothers admittedly get intense about tree selection).  Teenagers.  You can't win.

They pull up at the library in Yennefer’s Prius (Geralt’s truck has, yet again, broken down) and Ciri doesn’t wait for him before throwing open the car door and running for the library steps.  The line of people has snaked out the door, and Geralt shudders at how much heating is going to cost this month.

Standing in line is never pleasant, but Geralt and Ciri have a time honored tradition of games to play while doing so - quietly deciding which of their linemates are secretly monsters.  Before long, they’re through the big glass doors, standing in the warm lobby.  Ciri takes her mittens off and shoves them in her coat pocket.

There’s hot chocolate set up in the corner, and Geralt is surprised to see a few people looking through the permanent book sale as they wait.  Without really meaning to, he strains to see Jaskier, but the hallway is blocked with people in bulky coats.

Ciri sees him looking.  “Expecting someone?  Scoping out the competition?”  She’s been thoroughly filled in on Geralt’s plans of conquest.

“Yeah, sure.” He tells her, distracted.  One of the mittens is falling out of her coat pocket, so he takes it out and puts it in the opposite pocket.  She pouts.

“Don’t dad at me in public!”

“But we’re in public, and I’m your dad,” he tells her, deadpan, and she groans.

There’s a soft chuckle from behind them, and Geralt turns to see Jaskier.  He’s wearing a jauntily bent santa hat and a cable sweater with trains on the front, and Geralt gets the sudden and deep urge to hug him.

“Hi, Geralt,” he says, sounding strangely breathless.  “I wasn’t sure you’d show up.”

“It’s uh.  It’s good for the library,” Geralt says, and fuck.  If he’s falling over his words like this that means it’s worse than he thought.  Luckily, Jaskier doesn’t call him out on it and turns to Ciri instead.

“You must be Cirilla.”

“Ciri,” she says, sticking out her hand for a firm handshake, the way Yennefer taught her.

“Ciri,” he agrees.  “Thanks for coming with your dad today.”

“Oh, I couldn’t let him go on his own,” Ciri says with a sly grin.  “He gets lonely.”

“I’m right here,” Geralt grumbles, but they ignore him, moving towards the train room and chatting like they’re old friends.

The train room, Geralt will admit, is a lot more impressive when it’s all set up and the lights are on.  All the firefighters he sees give him cheery smiles, so he must not be too on their bad side.  That or they’re all very good actors.

--

Christmas comes and goes.  Geralt and Ciri spend the morning together, before heading to Vesemir and his husband Ellis’ house for dinner.  Yennefer joins them, and at Geralt’s invitation, Triss drops in.  Geralt has a sneaking suspicion the two of them hit it off.

It doesn’t snow on Christmas, but it snows the day Geralt goes back to the library.  As a part time employee, he got a slightly better holiday deal than most of his employees.  To his surprise, the little building seems to echo without the throngs of people.

It doesn’t change his mind about wanting that space, though.

But he does miss something, and it doesn’t take him a long time to realize it’s Jaskier.  As he shovels yet more snow off the library stairs and ramp, he finds himself thinking about their talks when the train room had been open.  As he weeds in the stacks, he thinks about the easy way he’d conversed with Ciri.  As he searches desperately in the circ desk for the book drop key, he thinks of how Jaskier would smile at the story.

Triss and Yennefer go to see a movie together.  Triss, for reasons Geralt doesn’t want to think about, avoids telling him the details, but Yennefer suddenly starts volunteering at the library.

The thing is that Geralt could find Jaskier.  If he wanted to be wildly unethical, he could look up his phone number in the system, but that thought barely crosses his mind before he dismisses it.  But he could ask around.  He doesn’t think Jaskier would mind if he asked the fire chief to pass along a message.  He doesn’t, though, for a multitude of reasons, all of which boil down to the fact that Jaskier deserves a better relationship than Geralt can give him.

When it comes down to it, Geralt’s good at people, but he’s not good at relationships.  He’s not even really good at friendships outside of Yenn (and Borch, and Zoltan, and Milva, and maybe Triss).  When he’s hurt, he emotionally pillbugs - pulls all the soft parts inside, leaving only the shell.  He’s working on it, but it’s still his go to reaction.

So he doesn’t do anything, and when he lets himself daydream at all, he thinks about next Christmas.

--

Jaskier shows up on a Wednesday.  It’s late January, and the snow has all melted except for dirty gray lumps where the plows piled it up.  Geralt is in his office, head full of book orders, and Triss knocks on the door.  “Someone’s here to see you,” She says.

Jaskier is standing behind her, looking nervous.  “Is it okay if I come in the office?”

“Yeah,” Geralt says, slightly stunned.

“So I was thinking,” Jaskier says.  “About your idea about the train room.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.  And I want to help you with it.”

Geralt looks at him, taking him all in.  Then he says, “I think.  I think we should go to the Poppy for lunch this weekend.  To talk about the train room.”

Jaskier grins.  “Just to talk about the train room?”

“Maybe not just that,” Geralt says, smiling back.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

FORTY THREE - THE ACCORDS

LEGACY: A Tony Stark Daughter Story

MASTERLIST

< previous

Word Count: 2,250ish

Summary: The Team learns about the Accords.

 “Five years ago, I had a heart attack. I dropped right in the middle of my backswing. Turned out it was the best round of my life, because after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass… I found something 40 years in the Army had never taught me: Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some… who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’.” Secretary Ross stated.

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha cut in, snarkily.

“How about ‘dangerous'? What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?” Secretary Ross said, activating the screen behind him. It started playing news reels from past Avengers and SHIELD matters. “New York.”  The Chitauri invasion. “Washington DC.” When SHIELD fell. 

“Sokovia.” Ultron, I shuddered. “Lagos.” Their most recent mission. I could tell Wanda wasn’t taking all this well.

“Okay,” Steve said, obviously noticing Wanda reaction as well. “That’s enough.” Ross turned off the screen. 

“For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” Ross said and he threw a thick book on the table. “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary. The Accords will also require anyone who is enhanced to be put on a registry.” Ross stated.

“Like me?” Wanda wondered, “Like Bailey?” She glanced at Tony, who refused to look at her. “We’d be put on a list so that you can watch our every move? Maybe even experiment on us?”

“No it’s not like that. It’s—“ Ross paused. “Wait a minute. Who the hell is Bailey?” Ross quickly glared at Tony. “Are you hiding enhanced people here?” Tony sat there, staring at the ground, not saying a word. I waited for him to defend me or something. But nothing happened. So Steve quickly chimed in. 

“No. Bailey is someone we were thinking about recruiting. She’s not unofficial member of the team and she’s not enhanced.” Phew, at least Steve has my back. I felt bad that he had to lie though, and I immediately felt that Ross hadn’t fully believed him. He changed the subject quickly. “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we’ve done that.”

“Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” Steve merely looked at Ross, unable to answer the question. Thor was probably on Asgard and no one had seen or heard from Bruce since Sokovia, a year ago. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes, you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.”

“So, there are contingencies,” Rhodey spoke up. 

“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.” I noticed Steve and Tony briefly make eye contact and Tony quickly look back down. That floor must be really interesting, interesting enough for a man who never shuts up to stop talking. 

 “Talk it over,” Ross continued.

“And if we come to a decision you don’t like?” Nat asked.

“Then you retire.” Ross answered. Everyone kinda glanced at each other. “Let me know what you guys decide.” And with that, Ross left. 

I sat in the security room watching, waiting for Tony to speak up. But nothing. He just got up and walked out. I switched the cameras so that I could see where he was going. He went to the main gathering area, took off his jacket and tie and then laid down on the couch. Everyone else slowly followed. Sam and Rhodey were bickering back and forth about the Accords while Steve had grabbed the Accords themselves and was looking through them. They listened to Sam and Rhodey go at it for a while until Vision spoke up.

“I have an equation,” Vision stated.

“Oh, this will clear it up.” Sam grumbled sarcastically. 

“In the six years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man,” Vision started, “the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”

“Are you saying it’s our fault?” Steve questioned, as he looked up from the Accords.

“I’m saying there may be a causality,” Vision answered. “Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodey said.

“Tony…” Nat said. “You’re uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.” Tony moved his hand off from over his face and looked at Nat. She was right. He’s always very open about his opinion. Something was definitely off if he was keeping his mouth shut.

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind.” Steve stated.

“Boy, you know me so well,” Tony said sarcastically. Tony stood up and walked into the kitchen, he rubbed the back of his head as he went. “Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache.” He opened a cabinet and grabbed a mug. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort.” Tony looked into the sink. “Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed-and-breakfast for a biker gang?” 

Oops, that was me. I quickly mad a mental note that I needed to stop doing that. He tried to causally pull up a holographic image on his phone. 

“Oh, that’s Charles Spencer by the way,” Tony continued. “He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree. 3.6 GPA. Had a floor-level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world, maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer, building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.” I could feel the emotional shift in the room from where I was. “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.” Tony threw some pills in his mouth and took a drink before continuing. “There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, we’re boundary less, we’re no better than the bad guys.” 

“Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve stated.

“Who said we’re giving up?” Tony questioned. 

“We are, if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

“Sorry,” Rhodey interrupted, “Steve, that, that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.” 

“No, but it’s run by people with agendas and agents change,” Steve stated.

“That’s good. That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing them,” Tony said back. 

“Tony. You chose to do that. If we sign these, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there’s somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.” 

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s a fact. That won’t be pretty.”

“You’re saying they’ll come for me… for Bailey.” Wanda whispered.

“We’ll protect you,” Vision promised, looking at Wanda. I sensed him caring, but in a different way than I had ever felt from the android. A way that shouldn’t have been possible. It was almost… human. “Both of you."

“Do want them to be taken away, Tony?” Steve stood up to face Tony. “Do you want Bailey to be taken away?” I could feel Steve’s emotions acutely as he asked those questions. He was terrified that the government really would take me away and worried that Tony was willing to take that chance. 

“Don’t bring her into this!” Tony slapped the counter top. “She’s different, she’s not a part of this. She’s not an official member of the team and they don’t even know about her.”

“She is apart of this, Tony! She’s trained, gone on missions. She’s enhanced! Do you want them to know what powers she has? If they find out that she has healing abilities, they would run tests on her to create some sort of super drug! And then there’s her super strength and what about her—”

“You don’t think I know that?! I have thought about every possibility! I have…” Tony looked up at Steve, the glimmer of tears in his eyes was obvious. “She is all I think about. She is the reason I am doing this. Bailey is the reason I do anything. She is my kid! And no one here has a say about what happens to her except me!”

I burst into tears as I sat there listening to everything that was being said. I shook my head and ran out of the security room, down the stairs, and out the back doors. I went straight to the facility fence line, collapsing against it as I continued to cry. When Tony first found me, I was being tested on. When my parents and others found out about my abilities, I was sought out for. My parents were paid a lot of money to sell me to, what we now know was, HYDRA. I was 4 years old when I was sold, just 4 years old. Kept in a cage, poked and cut open, blood drawn. Then I was kidnapped. Now, the government could put me on a list and could possibly do the same things that HYDRA had done to me. I agree that the Avengers need to be put in check, but not at the risk of those who are enhanced. 

While I was crying across the compound grounds, things were still heated inside.

“I signed the Accords to protect her,” Tony continued. “To protect all of us.”

“Steve, maybe Tony’s right,” Nat suggested. “If we have one hand on the wheel we can still steer.”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam asked. 

“I’m just raiding the terrain,” Natasha answered. “We’ve made some very public mistakes, we need to win their trust back.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony interrupted, the hint of surprise in his voice, “Did I just miss hear you or did you just say that you agree with me?” 

“Oh, I want to take it back—“ Nat quickly shook her head. 

“No no no,” Tony said, as he shook his finger. “You can’t retracted it.” 

Natasha looked at everyone around the room. They were all tense. She knew that continuing this conversation would get them no where. Especially with Tony and Steve going at each other about me. It frustrated her that Tony didn’t know what was going on between Steve and I. But she understood that it needed to be kept a secret from Tony for now.

“I think we need to take a break and rethink things. We can talk about this once we all have cool heads,” Nat suggested.

Tony marched out, immediately in search of me since he hadn’t seen me in weeks. Steve sat down and put his face in his hands. Nat went over and put her hand on his back. She glanced at everyone else in the room. They all got the hint and then left. 

“You can’t be serious about this Nat,” Steve said, once everyone else was gone. 

 “They’re going to put them on a list. They’re going to put her on a list. I can’t—“ He took in a harsh breath. “I can’t let that happen. She’s already been through so much, too much. I have to do what I can to prevent more from happening to her.”

“I know you love her Steve, but you have no say in the matter. Tony’s her father and you’re her secret boyfriend. Until it’s out in the open, you’re just going to have to deal with having no say.”

“I know,” he sighed.

“He’s just trying his best.”

“I know.”

“We need to ride this out, see what happens. But you should go talk to her. We both know she heard the whole thing.”

“I can’t be the one to talk to her first. Tony needs to… I’ll just have to pick up the pieces of that conversation.”

next >

[clumsyclifford]

intimacy prompts - 37 with mashton? feels like it would work for them

i got this idea and then i just felt like a compelling need to write it im sorry im not taking these prompts literally enough however this plot is absolutely crucial frankly i don’t know why it’s not employed in fic more often

-

“This stuff doesn’t work,” Ashton says.

Michael frowns. “You’re saying you don’t want to fall in love with me?”

“I’m saying there are better ways to fall in love than to just a bunch of questions,” Ashton says. “If I were going to be in love with you, don’t you think I’d have done it by now? I’ve known you for, like, seven years.”

“I’m pretty sure you are in love with me and you’re just in denial,” Michael says dismissively. “But that’s not the point. I’m just curious. Look, worst case scenario it doesn’t work and we just become closer friends.”

“And best case scenario?” Ashton asks, raising his eyebrows. He can’t really think of a best case scenario here, because falling in love with Michael through a series of carefully curated questions just feels fraudulent, and Ashton wouldn’t believe himself if it “worked.”

“We fall in love,” Michael says. “Duh.”

Ashton rolls his eyes. “Fine. But I want it on the record that I don’t think there’s any merit to this experiment, and I’m mostly doing it so I can have material to blackmail you with.”

Michael smirks. “Sure you are.”

(And maybe a little bit because he’s curious to see what will happen. If maybe it is possible to fall in love in thirty-six questions. If Ashton were going to fall for anyone this easily, he reckons it would be Michael.)

-

Some of the questions are kind of funny. When Ashton asks Michael, “Would you like to be famous? In what way?” Michael snorts before going off about how badly he wants to be a rock star, and how he’s worried he’ll never make it, because everyone in his band sucks and he doesn’t know if this song he wrote is good enough for any record labels. Then Ashton hits him and tells him that if they’re really going to do this, they have to be honest, and from there it gets, well. 

“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?” Michael reads, and then props his chin in his hand and looks expectantly at Ashton.

If Ashton had known just how probing these questions would be, he’s not sure he’d have agreed to this game. (If it can be called a game.) It’s not that he’s uncomfortable, but it’s hard to be open and honest like this, with no buffer, just him, Michael, and the truth.

“Nothing,” Ashton says, which is the only truthful answer he can come up with. Michael looks unimpressed. “I mean it. I wouldn’t want to know anything. What’s the point of life if you can just look up the answers? Why, what would you say?”

“I —” Michael purses his lips. “I’m not sure. But not nothing. I guess, I don’t know, I’d want to know if the band will last.”

“But if you knew the band would last, you’d stop working as hard to keep it together,” Ashton says. “And if you knew it wouldn’t, you’d just give up, wouldn’t you?”

“Would not,” Michael says, defensive, almost offended. “I’d do my best to make sure that future never came true.”

“It’s the future, Mike. It’s — it’s going to come true, that’s the point.”

“If the future tells me something I don’t like, I have every right to try and fight it,” Michael says stubbornly. “The band doesn’t tank unless I say it does.”

Ashton’s gut twists, although not in an unpleasant way. Actually, the dogged determination to protect what he loves is one of Ashton’s favorite things about Michael, and hearing him talk about the band like he’d rather die than lose it is making Ashton feel, well, something. He’s not sure what, and not sure he wants to know, although he has a feeling it’ll identify itself before the thirty-six questions are through.

They work through a few more questions in the second set. Then Michael, slightly strangled, says, “Uh. How close and warm is your family?” He clears his throat. “Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?”

“That’s two questions,” Ashton says. 

“It’s written as one,” Michael tells him, turning his phone around like Ashton won’t take him at his word. “Well, uh. Go ahead. It’s your turn.”

Ashton bites his lip. “You already know all of this about me,” he says, which is an evasion tactic, and Michael sees right through it.

“You — it’s part of the thing,” he says. “If you don’t want to answer it, I guess…”

“No, I just — I don’t think I’m going to say anything surprising.” Ashton sighs. “How close and warm is my family? Enough. My mum’s gotten better at keeping us close. I think it helps that I have money now. My childhood was unhappy until I joined the band. So, no. I don’t think it was happier than most people’s.”

“Until you joined the band?” Michael echoes, tilting his head. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says. “Like, I didn’t really have anything pushing me forward until that. It gave me direction. And three new friends, which didn’t hurt.”

“You’ve never said that,” Michael says, studying Ashton. Ashton feels like he’ll wilt under Michael’s gaze, too vulnerable, too easy to pull apart.

“Yeah, well.” Ashton clears his throat. “It’s your turn.” He wants to avert his gaze but also really, really doesn’t, and is saved by Michael looking away to reread the question from his phone, and they move forward.

The deeper they get into the questions, especially in the third set, the more Ashton wants to crack a joke, and the worse it feels to do so. They’re in the thick of it now, and even if it’s just a test, to see if it works, it’s not exactly the kind of thing Ashton wants to laugh at — just in case it does. (It can’t. There’s no way it could, because Ashton’s known Michael all this time, and hasn’t been in love with him.

And yet.)

“Tell your partner what you like about them,” Michael reads. “Be very honest — say things you might not say to someone you’ve just met.” He gives Ashton a lopsided smile. “Good thing we didn’t just meet. Lay it on me, Irwin.”

Ashton licks his lips, which suddenly feel dry. “Okay,” he says. This shouldn’t be hard. There’s a lot he likes about Michael. But all of the things immediately flying to Ashton’s tongue are things he would say to a complete stranger; surface compliments, or basic acknowledgements of skill. You’re a good guitarist is ridiculously shallow, and even you’re very dedicated sounds too vague to be true.

“I like that you’re the kind of person who knows how to heal,” Ashton says quietly. Michael furrows his brow. “I mean, I like that you’re someone who doesn’t ever fully break. You’re — you’re so strong, and you put up with so much shit, and every single time, I think, this is it, this is going to be the one that breaks him, but I’m always wrong. I’m glad I’m always wrong. I don’t know what I’d do if you really did break, but I’m always amazed. I’ve never — I think I’m the type to shatter, but you’re not. You can pick yourself up. I admire that about you. I always have.”

Michael swallows. “Oh. That’s — that’s really, like. Thank you, I think.”

Ashton rubs the back of his neck. For some reason, he feels more like an open book from this question — which is really, for him, about Michael — than any of the other ones. “Yeah,” he says. “Uh, you go.”

“I don’t really know how to follow that,” Michael says lightly. Ashton cracks a smile. “Okay, well, um. Alright. I like that you have this, I don’t know, endless optimism. It doesn’t make any sense to me, because I feel like with all the shit you’ve gone through, you should be full of, like, hate, and anger, but instead you always smile, and you believe in people, and,” Michael gestures aimlessly, unaware of the way Ashton’s palms feel clammier every second, “I don’t know. You’re relentless in your optimism, even though you’ve been burned. More than once. I don’t think I could be like that if I — but you are. So…I admire that. It’s very — noble.”

“Noble,” Ashton murmurs, cheeks pink. “Thank you. That’s very kind.” 

“Not really,” Michael says. “It’s just true.” But that makes Ashton feel even warmer, a fizzing sensation building in his chest that he can’t really diagnose. He’s used to pressure like this, but usually it’s anxiety or something, not — whatever’s happening right now, doing this. This kind of pressure feels like it needs to be relieved by someone else.

They make their way through the last of the questions, and by the time they’re through, Ashton feels like he’s just been on the emotional rollercoaster of a lifetime. “I need water,” he says.

“Get me some?” Michael requests, with a halfway smile. Ashton chuckles and takes his leave, returning with two glasses of water.

“Well,” he says delicately, “how do you feel? In love with me?”

“It’s not finished,” Michael says. Ashton frowns; he’s pretty sure there are only thirty-six questions. “Now we have to look into each others’ eyes for four minutes.”

“What?” That’s just...strange. And the more Ashton thinks about it, the more nervous he gets. “Why?”

Michael shrugs. “That’s what the article says. Answer the questions, then look into each others’ eyes for four minutes.”

“Four minutes,” Ashton says hoarsely. “That’s kind of long.”

“I think that’s the point,” Michael says. “Shall we?”

Ashton’s panic response is kicking in, but he’s in too deep now to back out. “Sure,” he manages. Michael smiles, soft and small the way he only ever does for Ashton, and some of Ashton’s tension dissipates.

They sit across from each other, cross-legged on the rug, hands in their laps, and Michael sets a four-minute timer on his phone. “Ready?” he asks. Ashton’s not sure he’s ever going to be ready for this particular task, but it doesn’t really matter; Michael hits the start button and then he’s confronted with Michael’s eyes, gazing into his own, and the realization that it’s going to be this for the next four minutes.

For what feels like an eternity, Ashton twists his fingers around themselves, nervous energy manifesting in fidgeting hands, and he keeps wanting to look away, desperate to close whatever window is being opened right now, because he’s absolutely certain that Michael is seeing into his soul. Then Michael reaches across and gently wraps Ashton’s hands up in his own.

“Stop fidgeting,” he whispers. Ashton can feel the calluses on Michael’s fingertips skimming across the back of Ashton’s hands. He stops fidgeting, but Michael doesn’t take his hands back, and Ashton finds himself hoping he doesn’t decide to. 

Michael’s eyes are very pretty. Ashton zeroes in on that fact. They’re the kind of green that looks like sea glass, maybe, and they’re ridiculously easy to get lost in. Again and again, Ashton has to force himself not to look away. He’s never stared at anyone this intently, for this long, in this kind of silence that feels loaded with tension.

(Since when is it loaded with tension?)

Michael’s palm is warm against the back of Ashton’s hand, and Ashton thinks about that, about how Michael always feels warm when Ashton needs him to be, and thinks about the thirty-six questions, and wonders why they were supposed to make him fall in love with Michael. Most of those questions hadn’t been the kind of thing you’d fall in love with for anyone. Knowing that the last time Michael cried by himself was last night, watching Bambi, shouldn’t really make Ashton fall in love. It wouldn’t. 

Although the knowledge that Michael has been crying alone at all is pretty painful. So is the fact that Michael had clearly been relieved to share that information, as if, slightly less recently, he’d cried on his own for something a little heavier than Bambi. Ashton wants to know what it was. He wants to be the person who holds Michael together while he stitches himself up. Michael’s always had an instrumental role in his life — it had been Michael, in the first place, who’d recruited Ashton for the band — and Ashton could spend all his days trying to return that favor and still come up short.

The pressure in his chest, or the butterflies, or the sparkling soda, whatever it is is back with a vengeance, bubbling over until Ashton feels hot and cold all over. He tightens his grip on Michael’s hands.

The realization that they could kiss right now doesn’t so much hit as settle easily into Ashton’s already volatile mind. In fact, Ashton thinks, he kind of wants to kiss Michael like this. It feels like a natural extension of the questions and the staring, the next bridge to cross, the easiest way to communicate to Michael that — well.

It’s not that Ashton’s fallen in love with Michael, it’s just that maybe being in love with Michael has been Ashton’s reality for a little longer than he’d known.

As soon as that thought lands, the timer on Michael’s phone goes off, a breezy alarm song that startles them both. Michael tugs a hand out of Ashton’s grasp to turn the alarm off, and the eye contact breaks for a second, but Ashton stills feels like he’s in a trance, especially when Michael immediately turns back to him, eyes wide and questioning, head at a halfway tilt.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, which is not what Ashton had expected him to ask, and catches him by surprise, enough that he actually says what he’s thinking, though he shouldn’t, though it’s a dangerous train of thought, though it’s probably a mistake because Ashton still doesn’t really believe in the magical thirty-six (and a half) questions.

“I want to kiss you,” he tells Michael, holding unconsciously tighter to Michael’s hand.

Michael exhales, a sigh of…maybe relief. “Oh, thank God.” And he leans in, freeing his hand from Ashton’s grasp to put both palms against Ashton’s cheeks, fingers curling around the back of his head, and kisses him.

The bubbling pressure in Ashton’s chest feels light and airy all of a sudden. Ashton reaches for Michael, anything to get his hands on him, and settles an unsteady hold on Michael’s shoulders just to anchor them in place. The angle’s awful — they’re both still sitting on the floor — but the kiss feels like coming home, and it makes more sense to Ashton than most of the other things in his life. Michael is uncharacteristically gentle with him (Ashton’s seen him kiss other people, knows how rough and tumble he can be), and after a moment, not long enough, he breaks away, resting his forehead against Ashton’s. Ashton’s whole face feels too warm.

“Believe me now?” Michael teases. It takes Ashton a second to understand what he’s talking about.

“I’m not in love with you,” he says, but the way his heart sinks at that, and the way Michael flinches backwards, immediately disprove that statement. “Okay, I might be, but not because of the questions.”

Michael smiles, which turns into something of a smirk, but without losing any of its initial gentleness. “Well, it worked for me.”

Ashton finds that difficult to believe. “You can’t be in love with me now just because you know more about me.”

“Well, I already liked you a whole fucking lot,” Michael says easily.

Ashton does a double-take. “You did?”

Michael sighs. “Oh, Ashton. You’d be the worst if you weren’t the best.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Ashton says, although he fails to bite back a smile. “So now you’re in love with me?”

“I’d be an idiot not to be.” Michael pushes himself to his feet and then holds out a hand for Ashton to do the same. He doesn’t step backwards when Ashton rises, leaving virtually no space between them. “I want to kiss you again.”

“You can kiss me as many times as you want,” Ashton says breathlessly, and Michael does.

[just-come-baek]

at your scarvice

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Jimin x OC (Jiwoo) and other BTS members as cameos

Themes: smut | comedy | ghost!au | haunted house!au | amateur ghost hunters!au | friends to lovers!au

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: “I’ve done a research about a haunted house which is like only one village away from Jiwoo’s parents’ house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. You’re subscribers will love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?”

Prompt: “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

Warnings: amateur ghost hunting | irresponsible usage of ghost hunting devices | mentions of brutal deaths | mentions of Jungkook being a YouTuber | plenty pop culture references | friendly bickering | main characters being idiots | occasional spooky stuff | penetrative sex | 

__________

Knock! Knock!

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked straightforwardly upon seeing me on the other side of the doors. As per usual, I smiled brightly, waiting for him to move aside, so I could feel myself home.

“I’m inviting myself in,” I answered, walking past him. “Tonight is a big day, and we gotta get ourselves ready,” I added and put two heavy shopping bags on the floor before plopping on the couch, catching my breath. “I planned the entire day, and we’re already far behind schedule. If it wasn’t for the traffic, I would be here about thirty minutes earlier.”

“It’s just a Halloween party,” Jungkook stated, and I rolled my eyes. “It’s no big deal; Jiwoo organizes one every year.”

“The party is just one of the things we’re gonna do,” I started, excited to tell him about everything I had meticulously planned. I was going to make sure he would never forget this night. “I’ve prepared a few surprises before the party.”

“Do I wanna know?” Jungkook asked, sitting in an armchair across from me.

“One thing at a time, okay?” I proposed, and Jungkook unwillingly complied; he had never been the one to fancy surprises, but he could make an exception for his best friend. “First thing on the list – re-watching the season 6 of Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural while eating unhealthy snacks and having gin and tonic drinks,” I revealed, and Jungkook scrutinized me, making an ugly face.

“Are we talking postmortem, too?”

“I can’t believe you had to ask me that,” I answered, a little bit disappointed that he thought I’d skip this content. Never; it was too good to be ever skipped on.

“Sweet,” Jungkook exclaimed, jumping out of the armchair in excitement. “Why don’t you turn on the playlist, and I’ll go get us glasses and a bowl for the chips?”

Hurriedly, I logged into Jungkook’s computer and turned on YouTube.

“Which episode was your favorite?” Jungkook asked me as he sat on the couch beside me, setting the tableware on the coffee table next to the laptop.

“All of them were good. They’ve gathered a lot of evidence this season, but for me, the house call one was the best."

“It was dope, but my favorite is definitely the season finale,” Jungkook stated, and I couldn't disagree. All of the episodes were great, and it was impossible to choose the best one – objectively, at least. All of them were hilarious and spooky in their own way, and it was a delight to re-watch them again. “The marathon shall begin,” he added, pressing the play button.

“Finally.”

It was a very peaceful afternoon, and frankly, it was exactly what I needed after a couple of hectic days at the university. The professors were more demanding than usual, and a relaxing hangout was the perfect remedy to all the stress I had been put under.

Per each episode, Jungkook and I would have a drink and empty a bag of potato chips, occasionally bickering about how we would act in these haunted places. While we both considered ourselves shainiacs, it was quite obvious we would chicken out in the moment of strange, not necessarily supernatural, occurrence.

For the outsiders, Jungkook might have seemed to be a tough cookie, but in reality, he was just a big softie. I, on the other side, enjoyed horrors a bit too much; therefore, in the face of danger, I would laugh.

Probably.

One cannot be sure without actually witnessing a supernatural occurrence. Best case scenario – a full- body apparition. 

“You would totally run outside screaming,” Jungkook snickered when the ghoul boys’ spirit box picked up a bizarre voice. “You would lose your fucking mind.”

“I would let out a confused chuckle at best,” I fought back, but Jungkook wasn’t having any of this, throwing a potato chip at me, blowing a raspberry. “See, this is why Jiwoo doesn’t like you. You’re too childish.”

“What are you talking about? Jiwoo adores me,” Jungkook protested, and I couldn’t help myself but burst his little bubble of confidence and self-assurance. “I'm like... her best friend.”

“She only tolerates you because she has the biggest crush on Jimin,” I explained, and Jungkook gasped in disbelief. “What? You didn’t know?” I asked, confused because it was too obvious not to notice her infatuation. Only Jimin was too blind to see it, despite Jiwoo’s blatant flirting.

“Of course, I know. I’m not that stupid,” Jungkook answered, but I still thought he and Jimin shared one brain cell. “Too bad for her; Jimin's dumb.”

“I'm betting she's gonna make a move tonight,” I started, knowing the juicy gossip which would pique Jungkook's interest. “Jimin told me he's cosplaying as Fred from Scooby-Doo, and she's coincidentally dressing as Daphne. She's gonna be as subtle as a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant.”

“Weird way to put it, but I agree,” Jungkook answered, giggling adorably under his breath. “And where's your costume?” Jungkook asked, confused, as he finally noticed the lack of my spooky outfit. Our whole crew enjoyed Halloween too much to attend a party in basic all black clothes. “Jiwoo's not gonna let you in without one. You know it.”

“Relax; I'm going as the Nun from the Conjuring Universe. My costume's at Jiwoo's. I'm not parading in that hellish make-up, giving people heart attacks,” I elaborated, and Jungkook nodded, understanding my choice. Last year, I had been dressed as a very vivid horror character, and a few elders had got pretty spooked. I'm not going down that road again. “I've only got white face powder, three black eyeliners, and a set of black contact lenses on me. And check this out; all of it fitted into my new fanny pack. It's awesome, isn't it?” I showed it to Jungkook, and he grabbed it to investigate my new purchase.

“I've been trying to convince you to buy one for almost a year; what've changed your mind?” Jungkook asked suspiciously, remembering numerous rejections of his (in his opinion) well-argued propositions. In all honesty, I considered fanny packs a terrible accessory, but tonight it suited the occasion. It was more comfortable than a purse or a backpack, and surprisingly, it could fit more items than I had previously assumed. “You've also got a new phone case? It's awesome! Why didn't you get one for me, too?” He added in a whiny tone after inspecting my latest let's summon demons phone case.

“I'd say my fanny pack is going to be a Mystery Mousketool, but then I realized you know what the item is, and you don't know what it's going to be used for,” I started rumbling, and Jungkook looked at me in visible confusion. Perhaps, he had one drink too many to comprehend my twisted presentation. “All I'm saying now, it may come in handy if the second phase of my amazing plan goes a little bit off track,” I continued vaguely. Best friends or not, I couldn't straightforwardly confess that it would be easier for me to run for my life if the police would start chasing us for trespassing a haunted property.

“Whatever's going on your mind, I don't like it,” Jungkook muttered as my previous account must've triggered his spider-sense. “What are you plotting?”

“It's nothing, really,” I tried to dismiss the topic, but Jungkook wasn't having any of that; he wanted to know everything about my secret plan, and he wouldn't stop glaring at me until I'd tell him all the details. With this man, keeping a secret wasn't a possibility.

“Tell me, or else I'm not going anywhere,” Jungkook threatened, and Halloween or not, I knew he wasn't joking. For him, gaming all night was just as entertaining as attending a party; therefore, he didn't have any trouble choosing either one of them. At this point, the only thing I could do was to advertise my plan, making it irresistible. “I was planning on streaming this one game this week, and I might as well start doing it today,” Jungkook carried on with his nerdy shenanigans, letting me know it was my cue to change the subject, snowing him under a handful of promises of an adventurous unforgettable night.

“I've done a research about a haunted house which is like one village away from Jiwoo's parents' house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. Your subscribers would love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?” I blurted out on one breath, hoping my sincerity was enough to convince him. “Pretty please?”

***

The bus to the village was about to leave at 17:06, and we had only ten minutes left to double-check our inventory: two go pro cameras, two old-fashioned flashlights, a legitimate spirit box (which Jungkook had been gifted two months ago on his birthday), an ouija board (which he gave me for my early birthday), and a spare bottle of booze if we sobered up before arriving at the location.

Due to traffic, our bus arrived a few minutes late, but we were in a great mood, so we didn’t mind it that much. If anything, we were even more excited, because it would be already getting dark upon our arrival.

“So tell me something about your research,” Jungkook started, as we found a couple of empty seats in the back row of the bus – finally we were the cool kids.

“OK, so check this out,” I started, sitting comfortably in my window seat, rubbing my hands together in ardor. “No one really knows how many ghosts haunt this place, yet according to previous owners’ accounts there are at least three ghosts roaming all around the house, and I have my theory about their identities,” I said with a mischievous smirk upon my face, waiting for Jungkook to compliment my well-done research.

“What’s your theory?” He inquired, already intrigued by the house’s story.

Even it was only my thesis.

“Finally, let’s go over some theories,” I said, quoting my favorite YouTube channel.

Whispering, I told him everything I had managed to dig out, successfully keeping Jungkook on the edge of his seat for the entire ride.

It was a mystery how many ghosts actually haunt this location, but according to the witnesses’ testimonies, old newspaper articles, and land registers, I was sure about three names. All of the three men were once residents, and all of them died tragically within the sinister four walls.

The unholy trinity of Kims – that’s the name of my theory.

The house was built in 1913 on an old rye field. It was a very amicable side of the village, and no one had expected the house could bring so much evil.

The first tenants moved in 1915, and though neither of them died, they reported they had witnessed strange happenings within the premises, beginning with the dog barking in the middle of the night at the darkness, ending with them hearing screeching sounds from under the walls.

One night, they stirred awake with their skin covered in scratches, and their dog breathing heavily, slowly bleeding to death. Needless to say, they moved out before the dawn, leaving all of their belongings behind.

While the majority of the locals believed it was witches’ revenge since the coven had been denied the premises, some of whom thought the family was mentally-ill and violent.

The house remained empty way until 1973 when Kim Seokjin moved in. Back in the time, he was a singer, slowly gaining popularity. Having signed the contract with an entertainment label, he bought a house as his own getaway when he needed a break from his demanding fans.

He would reside in the house a few times a year, only when he was desperate for a few moments of solitude. In late October 1974, he went for a short hiatus. Late evening, when he was relaxing with a glass of scotch, someone knocked on his doors, asking for someone – almost like in The Strangers.

Seokjin suspected the stranger was just a very sneaky fan and locked the person outside. The sole purpose of buying the property so far away from the city was precisely omitting situations like this.

Unfortunately for him, it was not a fan.

Later that night, a dozen of Satanists broke into Seokjin’s house, tied him up, and carried him straight to the basement where they performed a grim ritual. According to the police report released to the press, he was discovered lying on his back in the middle of a bloody pentagram, his intestines gutted out, his tongue cut out found in a golden goblet, and two paper knives sticking out of his eyeballs.

It is told that his ghost roams around the basement, leaving a bloody trace after him. Moreover, a young journalist, back in 1981, while doing research about satanic rituals, claims she had seen his ghost, resting in a rocking chair down in the basement, sipping a glass of alcohol. She even swore she could smell a mixture of whisky and blood in the air.

Unfortunately, she didn’t gather any evidence, later being called a lunatic by the disbelieving society.

The house waited for its new residents for twenty years – in August 1994, a newly wedded couple moved in right after their honeymoon. Kim Namjoon was a poet, teaching European literature on the university, while his wife, Kim Joori, was a sweet librarian.

At first, they didn’t notice anything strange. No weird noises, no unexpected guests, no cold spots, no nothing. Everything was peaceful until they decided to conduct a major renovation – it was then when the hell unleashed.

In 1996 they decided to start trying for a baby, and though they both fancied the old décor of the house, it was evident it wasn’t a safe space for a child. While they were thrilled to upgrade the property, providing their newborn with safety, the entities which lived inside were not.

Joori was the one who started experiencing supernatural happenings; she only worked three times a week, and the majority of her time, she spent alone at home. During these late hours, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. At first, she justified it with stress and a shitload of work regarding the renovation, but then, the occurrences she had witnessed couldn’t be explained with logic.

Joori wanted to sell the property and move out, yet Namjoon would always dismiss her pleas. It wasn’t until November 1996 when Joori, who was already three months pregnant, and Namjoon had a big fight. She gave him an ultimatum, and when Namjoon chose the house over her, she moved out.

A few collective nights after Joori’s departure, Namjoon would sit by the newly rebuilt fireplace and drink into oblivion. It was the first time he noticed peculiar activity in the house, yet he blamed the alcohol for it.

Slowly, day after day, Namjoon would lose his mind. It started off with strange whispers. The voice in his head, or so he thought, begged him to call Joori and bring her back, yet his pride would always stop after pressing the 6th digit of her parents’ landline.

Then it was tugs; from time to time, Namjoon would feel his shirt being tugged. It was challenging to explain with logic, but he opted for blaming the trauma for making him delusional. Namjoon would rather believe his brain was slowly frying itself than accept the supernatural entities.

At some point, he also started hearing distant giggles within the house and seeing shadows passing between walls, but the last straw that broke the camel’s neck was definitely his book of poems flying across the room, landing in the middle of the carpet, and then shredding into pieces right in front of his eyes. While a lot of events could be blamed on the strong drafts of wind or poor timely construction of the house, some things he witnessed were unexplainable.

Shortly after the incident, the entity residing in the house became violent – it wanted Namjoon away, and since he wasn’t going to leave like his wife, there was another way of getting rid of him.

Namjoon wanted to leave the house, reach out to Joori and start anew with her and their baby.

However, he never did.

On a Christmas morning, Joori paid him a visit and the things she witnessed traumatized her for life.

Namjoon’s suitcase was neatly packed, waiting by the doors to be picked up. The house was spotless, except for Namjoon’s study.

Walls were painted red with blood, Namjoon’s body dismembered – pieces of his body parts scattered all over the floor. Only his head was in scarless, resting on top of his desk, right next to his ripped poetry book.

No signs of forced entry, no motive, no evidence.

The police obviously closed the case, but Joori never felt at peace, still believing it was the entity that killed her husband.

And now, finally, the third Kim.

Kim Taehyung.

Not that long time ago, in 2007, the land was purchased by happy-go-lucky Kim Taehyung. At that time, Taehyung was only 19. He bought the house with his inheritance. Ever since little, he was very family-orientated, and when he had a chance to purchase a property, he didn’t hesitate.

Just like former residents, Taehyung didn’t sense anything odd; the omnipresent feeling of darkness came with time. However, even then, Taehyung would dismiss all the strange occurrences happening inside the house.

He had never been one to get scared easily, so a round of floor creaking or cold spots didn’t really impress him.

On the 17th of April, his girlfriend, Chanmi, slept over for the first time, and it was chilling.

According to her testimony, after their steamy sex session, she felt as if being watched. Later on that night, when they were sleeping, cuddling under the sheets, she heard distinctive steps downstairs.

Frightened, suspecting it was a burglar, she shook Taehyung awake, yet the moment he opened his eyes, the noise stopped. Complete undisturbed silence. To Taehyung, Chanmi seemed paranoid (and not accustomed to new surroundings), but he loved her dearly and checked the house, calming her.

Although Taehyung didn’t find anything, Chanmi already knew she didn’t feel welcomed – ever since that night, she made sure they would hang out at her place. Whatever it was that she sensed – it was pure evil.

On the 23rd of June, they had a big fight, and when Chanmi came over the next day to makeup, Taehyung was already gone.

His body was discovered in the bathroom on the second floor – he was lying in the bathtub, sharp pieces of mirror protruding from his wounded body.

Chanmi screamed and fell onto her knees.

But it wasn’t the worst thing about that day – the moment she started sobbing, Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, looked at her with his dead eyes, and in a throaty voice, he growled her name.

In a matter of seconds, Chanmi got back on her feet and bolted out of the house, swearing to herself that she’d never ever return there.

Though the police suspected a murder, deep down, Chanmi knew it was the evil’s doing. She never bothered mentioning that in her official statement, knowing the cops wouldn’t believe her.

Ever since Taehyung’s tragic death, the residence belongs to the city. Despite multiple proposals, it has never been sold.

And now, it’s our cue to investigate these haunted premises.

“You’re shitting me right now, aren’t you?” Jungkook asked me, probably both crept out and impressed. My research was thorough and off-putting at once, and I was sure it partially discouraged him from participating in the exploration.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve read that shit about the house, and you still wanna go there? What’s wrong with you? Only a psychopath can enjoy doing shit like that,” Jungkook argued, and I couldn’t find an answer right away.

I loved horror films and scary stories, mostly because I loved discrediting them and finding flaws in the storylines, and right now, I was about to do the same, but my subject was a real thing.

I didn’t have huge expectations – it was more than probable that we wouldn’t find anything, yet at the same time, it would be pretty dope to witness something strange. Jungkook shouldn’t be that worried – in the worst (best) scenario, we would get spooked by another team of amateur ghost hunters.

“Come on, Kook, grow a pair,” I started, trying to take our conversation on a less pressing level. It was just a silly ghost hunting gig, yet Jungkook sounded serious, almost as if we were going through the pros and cons of keeping a baby. “Ghost ain’t real; the scariest thing inside that house it probably bats,” I reasoned, and Jungkook agreed with a sigh.

“I guess you’re right,” Jungkook said, finally manning up for the mission. “Let’s get this shit over with,” he added when the vehicle stopped at our bus stop.

***

“So… what do you think?” I inquired when the murder house was within our eyesight; the building was spacious, and it really stood out amongst the other residences – no one could miss it. From quite a distance, you could see there was something evil about it, even the fence around the property was installed upside down, supposedly to lock the supernatural entities inside.

“It doesn’t look very welcoming if you ask me,” Jungkook started, scratching the back of his head, probably trying to come up with a good excuse to call it a day and just head over to Jiwoo’s party. “Just by the look of it, I can tell there’s something wrong about it,” he added, and I hummed in agreement.

“Are your spider-senses tingling again?” I asked, and Jungkook elbowed me lightly, not enjoying my teasing. “But for real now. Should we take a few selfies before going in?” I proposed, and Jungkook eagerly agreed, as if prolonging the inevitable reconnaissance.

Carefully, Jungkook wrapped his arm around my frame and snapped a few pictures with his phone, making sure the haunted house was standing proudly in the background. Then, he took another series of photos with my camera.

“If we’re seriously going in there, I think I need an intro for my Halloween special video, don’t you think?” Jungkook announced, pulling out his go-pro camera. After giving me a quick instruction, we started rolling.

At first, he reported what we were doing, but then, he started talking about the new segment of his channel, and my brain just froze. Although I respected his passion for gaming, I completely lost focus whenever he started blabbering about it. But honestly, I thought it was healthy for our friendship. We had a lot of things in common, yet it was a blessing to be different at some point. Whenever one of us felt a bit overwhelmed, we could engage in independent activities. For Jungkook, it was gaming – I’d never try crashing his nerdy party.

“I think we got it,” I announced when Jungkook’s mouth stopped barfing gaming jargon. “Let’s go inside.”

“Fine, but keep it in mind that if I die, I’m going to haunt your ass,” Jungkook stated, and I laughed. Right… as if this cinnamon roll could ever haunt anything.

“Puh-lease,” I retorted, trying to refrain myself from giggling. “If anything bad happened to you, you would be Kookie – the friendly ghost,” I finished, and Jungkook whined quietly, not fancying my opinion.

“Shut up,” Jungkook barked, pulling out the second fancy camera. If he were to step into that hellhole, he would gear himself up from head to toe, getting ready to catch the ghost on tape. “Let’s go in before I change my mind,” he added, as he effortlessly jumped over the fence.

“Will you help me? Not everyone has legs for days,” I mumbled as I extended my arms, so Jungkook could support me when I made my way through the first obstacle. “Thanks,” I quickly said when Jungkook grabbed me, and carefully put me on the ground.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’ve got a sexy pair of legs,” Jungkook complimented me, and though in other circumstances I’d blush, this time I ignored it, focusing on the vibration I felt in the butt pocket of my jeans.

The second I put my foot on the unholy soil, weird shit started happening.

Interesting.

My first thought was that I got a text message on my phone, but then it struck me that I always had my phone on silent mode. Quickly, I checked my cell phone, and it turned out that Siri turned itself on.

“What can I help you with?”

The device turned itself on again, but this time in my hand, when I didn’t push any buttons.

“It’s not a good sign,” Jungkook commented, and I started to second guess the brilliance behind my ingenious plan. “It’s not too late to turn around and leave. I won’t be disappointed if you chicken out,” he carried on, but I just grinned at him. There was no way I’d wimp out.

“Nice try; we’re going in,” I prompted, confidently walking toward the main entrance, Jungkook following behind me, probably shooting the surroundings.

As soon as we stepped onto the porch, the wood would start to creak underneath the pressure. Just like everything about the house, it gave off that creepy vibe.

“Showtime,” I whispered under my breath as I extended my hand and grabbed the knob. Just as expected, it was locked.

“Well… it looks like another sign to me. Let’s go back,” Jungkook spoke, trying once again to convince me to back out.

“Get a grip; we’re going in,” I ordered, and Jungkook sighed, regretting that he couldn’t say no to me. “I’m picking the lock; Betty in Riverdale does it all the time, it can’t be that difficult,” I muttered, reaching into my new fanny pack for a bobby pin.

“Are you for real? Since when anything they do in Riverdale makes any sense to you?” Jungkook wondered, but I just rolled my eyes, ignoring his mean comments. “You’re not opening that lock,” he added, making my blood boil. In times of crisis, Jungkook wasn’t very supportive.

“Just shut up, I almost got it,” I barked, sticking my tongue out, adjusting myself to my ultimate focus form, ignoring Jungkook and his shenanigans. Not only he showed me no support, but also he pulled out the small bottle of booze and took a gulp, without proposing me some.

“Just deal with it. We won’t get inside,” Jungkook teased again, pissing me off, and then leaning in, literally breathing on my neck.

“I really hate you right now,” I yelled at him as I straightened up, dropping my bobby pin in the process. “It was my only one,” I whined, kicking in doors in frustration, and to my surprise, it swung wide open.

“Ladies first?” Jungkook murmured, smiling sheepishly, moving aside.

“How gentlemanly of you,” I tsked, turning on the flashlight before entering the building. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to edit your video, deceiving people into thinking you’re a real macho man,” I complained, inspecting the foyer.

Nothing out of the ordinary. For now.

“I’ve got chills,” I stated matter-of-factly when the silence inside the house started to bother me. Though I didn’t believe in ghosts, for some stupid reasons, my heart rate quickened. I felt uneasy, and when I heard my voice echo across the room, I felt less crept out. “Which room should we check out first?”

“When I listened to you on the bus, all of them sounded awful,” Jungkook honestly answered while shedding some light around the living room. “If got rid of all the dust, it’d look pretty comfy,” he added, and I snorted, not expecting him to give me such a nonchalant comment.

Unfortunately, it seemed I was the jittery one.

Well… fuck.

“How about we check out Ouija board in Namjoon’s study,” I proposed, and Jungkook hummed in agreement.

“Maybe there’s still some blood left. You said it was pretty messy,” Jungkook added in excitement, making me wonder how the hell he did a 180 so fast. Not even two minutes ago, he acted like an adorable sacredly cat, but right now, he seemed confident enough to roundhouse kick all the demons back to hell.

“I doubt so, but it’s worth checking,” I answered, and we both headed to the east wing of the house, navigating toward Namjoon’s office. “It may sound ridiculous, but I’m getting horny,” I confessed, and Jungkook stopped in his tracks, gawking at me, not expecting such revelation.

“I knew you wouldn’t resist my manly charms,” Jungkook murmured cockily, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively. “I knew you would fall for me eventually.”

“Right… I’d rather believe a sex demon just possessed me,” I retorted, and for some reason, Jungkook didn’t find it funny. Come on, it was hilarious! “OK, I guess you’re kinda hot right now,” I gave in, unwillingly stroking his ego.

Not my fault, he was just irresistible.

“I knew it,” Jungkook cheered right before when we finally found the right room. This was it – the first space to be “properly” investigated.

Putting the flashlights on the desk, we set the Ouija board on the floor, sitting across from each other.

“Do you know how to use it?” Jungkook inquired, and I smiled sheepishly, telling him I knew bits and pieces, though I had absolutely no idea if my knowledge was legit since it all was based on multiple horror films I had seen. “I’ll check it online,” he proposed and pulled out his phone, quickly typing his inquiry into Google’s search tab. “Whoa, the signal here is no joke; I have a better connection than I have at my apartment. How expensive is this house again?”

“You’re really dumb, you know…”

“You love me regardless, so I don’t really care,” Jungkook absentmindedly replied while browsing through the answers. “OK, it’s easy.”

Briefly, Jungkook explained the ceremony. Apparently, the horror movies didn’t get everything wrong.

Unfortunately, the spirits inside Namjoon’s study weren’t chatty – during our session, they only edged the planchette toward the numbers 9 and 4 (the date of Namjoon’s settlement), yet I didn’t put much thought to it. Jungkook was probably moving it to scare me, and I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

“You know what? It’s not as exciting as I thought it would,” I started when we were collecting our stuff, getting ready to explore another room. For the majority of the time, nothing was happening. We were sitting just sitting in darkness, waiting for something to give us a real spook.

Later, we headed towards the second floor. The stairs were creaking as we made our way up, but we didn’t pay much attention to it, being too focused on locating the bathroom to actually think about basic safety.

The bathroom looked terrifying; the tiles inside were dirty, the original color already fading. The facilities were covered in rust and probably making a lot of unnecessary noises.

“Give me your flashlight,” Jungkook ordered as he put both torches on the edge of the bathtub, one of which switched on. “If there’s something that wants to communicate with us, turn the right one on, and turn off the left one,” Jungkook spoke loudly, waiting for the lights to change, and after some time one did.

“It was definitely a ghost,” I exclaimed in fake dread, bursting out laughing a second later. “It’s solid evidence; it’s confirmed – ghosts are real,” I added, and Jungkook joined me, chuckling adorably. “You can’t change my mind.”

“If it’s you, Taehyung, tell us what happened to you,” Jungkook carried on, and I grew silent, waiting for the ghost to reach out to us. “We don’t want to hurt you; we just want to know the truth. Who killed you?”

Silence.

“Come on, Taehyung. We don’t have all night; we’ve got places to be,” I urged the ghost in a taunting manner, hoping for something to finally happen. With each passing second, our expedition seemed more and more disappointing, and though I didn’t believe in ghosts, I’d really liked to be proven wrong.

“You’re weak sauce, Taehyung!” Jungkook mocked, reaching for the flashlights, wanting to explore another active part of the house – the basement. “You had your chance, Taehyung, and you blew it.”

We quickly left the bathroom and headed to the basement, yet just before we entered the room, I hesitated.

“Maybe we should investigate the basement individually,” I proposed, and Jungkook bit the inner side of his cheek, pondering over my suggestion.

“Fine, let’s do this,” Jungkook agreed with a sigh. “Do you want me to go first?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged, and Jungkook pulled out the spirit box, a little bit excited to use it for the first time. “Go get ’em, tiger.” I patted Jungkook on the back, and closed the doors behind him. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

The stairs creaked when Jungkook was walking down. For a while, it was oddly silent, but then I heard the loud white noise, and I knew Jungkook finally turned the device on.

While he was down there, I roamed around the ground floor, taking a few extra selfies. Unfortunately, regardless of the flashlight, it was still dark as fuck, and I was sure none of the taken photos were Instagram-worthy.

Ten minutes passed, yet Jungkook still didn’t get out.

“You can come out now,” I shouted, but I got no reply from Jungkook.

This fucker was messing with me. I knew him too well not to understand what he was trying to do. However, I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. He wanted to scare me shitless, but he would never succeed.

Confidently, I swung the doors open and made my way downstairs.

“Have you found anything?” I asked when I noticed Jungkook standing in the corner of the room, facing the walls.

“Nope, it was boring as fuck.”

“OK, it’s my turn. Give me the spirit box,” I spoke eagerly, waiting for Jungkook to give me the gear. He survived the individual session with ghosts, so there was nothing to be afraid of. If ghouls didn’t eat Jungkook’s cute butt, I doubted they would be after mine.

“Good luck,” Jungkook murmured and leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss against my forehead before running upstairs.

OK. What the fuck?

With a slam, I was left alone in the basement, and frankly, right now, I didn’t give two shits about ghosts. What the fuck was that? Jungkook and I never showed any affection for one another. The most intimate interaction we had ever had was elbowing each other.

We didn’t kiss.

Never.

Not even an indirect kiss.

All the wires in my brain were frying. A whole army of ghosts might’ve jumped out of nowhere, and I wouldn’t give two shits about them. What the hell was Jungkook’s deal? Why did he do that?

Regardless of how much I desired to find evidence on ghosts, right now, my mind wasn’t in the right place. Thoughts of Jungkook, of how much I tried to not act on my attraction toward him, how I wanted him to make a move – they completely took over my sanity.

A full-body apparition might’ve as well started reciting Great Gatsby, and I wouldn’t notice it probably.

Trying to leave that horrifying train of thoughts, I shook my head. I needed to get a grip. Tonight was about ghosts, not about Jungkook.

Promptly, I turned on the spirit box, starling at how loud it roared to life.

Except for one beam of light coming out of my flashlight, it was entirely dark, and the white noise emitted by the device made the scene even more terrifying. I would undoubtedly faint if I didn’t like this dreadful atmosphere.

“Is anyone here?” I asked and looked around – everything seemed ordinary. Well… as ordinary as an abandoned house’s basement could be.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

“What the fuck was that?” I jerked my head to the side, staring at the device in my hand. It sounded like a male voice, yet I couldn’t quite comprehend the words. “Can you repeat that? You have to speak more clearly,” I spoke, refraining from face-palming myself.

What the hell was I thinking, talking to ghosts?

I must’ve really lost my mind.

“Behind.”

Once again, I jerked my head, furrowing my eyebrows. It really sounded like the word behind, so obviously, I turned around, checking if there’s something, in fact, behind me.

There wasn’t.

“I have to hear more than just one word,” I declared, focusing on the noise, ready to pick up another message. For a long while, the white noise was ringing in my ears, but then I heard something which sounded like my name.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

Jungkook’s gonna love my footage, I wondered upon hearing these strange noises. Maybe it is not groundbreaking evidence, but it surely will be thrilling to watch. Jungkook’s followers will love the new content.

“You find me.”

“Oh my God, this is awesome,” I cheered enthusiastically, and though I was having the time of my life, it was time to take the fun to the next level. “Who am I talking to? What’s your name?”

“Kim.”

“That was an instant answer,” I commented, feeling goosebumps on my skin.

Much to my dismay, it was the last coherent response I got; I sat there alone in the darkness and received only a few unintelligible reads. So much for ghost hunting… I thought, ready to leave the basement.

Checking the time on my phone, I realized I had two more minutes, and though it was pointless to reach out to ghosts at this point, I decided to record my useless commentary. Maybe Jungkook would use my witty monologue as a part of his YouTube clip, or if not, he’d have a good laugh when analyzing all the footage from this night.

“So… I’ve been sitting in the darkness for a while, and no ghost dared to give me a spook. It’s such a disappointment, really. These ghosts here are real wimps; I lured Jungkook inside this basement, and this may come as a big shocker to everyone, but nothing really happened to him –“

[BANG!]

Quickly, I turned my head around, trying to locate the source of the strange noise; it sounded as if it was coming from under the stairs, yet I quickly dismissed the disturbance – it must’ve been a rat or something.

Clearly, it wasn’t a ghost.

“As I was saying… this house is a complete bummer. When we first arrived, the house looked really nerve-racking, but when we actually started exploring it, it let us down. Honestly, the scariest part of this expedition probably was when Jungkook failed to prank me.”

“Your time is up,” having opened the doors, Jungkook hollered. “I’m going down there,” he added, and I turned around, giving Jungkook a chance to record my grand exit on tape.

“I’m getting outta here, ghosts. You are a bunch of wimps!”

“Did you just seriously mock the ghosts?” Jungkook asked, giggling adorably.

“Why not? It’s not like they’re going to kill me for calling them out.”

“Should we leave now? I’d stay for a little longer and recorded some weird random shit. What do you think?”

“It’s definitely gonna piss these ghosts, so I am in.”

At first, Jungkook insisted I record him dance a few Fortnite choreographies, and though I had no clue what he was doing, I kept the camera rolling. Then, I turned music on my phone, and we jammed to old K-POP hits like Super Junior’s Bonamana, SHINEE’s Lucifer, f(x)’s Electric Shock, and many others.

Then Jungkook made me record his beatbox performance, and it was torture. However, there was a silver lining – it helped me determine whether ghosts were real or not. The answer was no – no one would endure it.

And if it wasn’t for my crush on him, I’d definitely not endure it either.

Later that evening, Jungkook gave a short instruction video on how to defend oneself with basic taekwondo moves, and then we thumb-wrestled.

“You know what would really piss the ghosts off?” Jungkook inquired, and I wondered what else his one brain cell came up with since I highly doubted if it could get any dumber than it already had.

“I don’t know… what else would really piss the ghosts off?” I answered, having no idea what we could do to outdo ourselves. Everything that we had done for the past hour was already offensive as fuck.

“Isn’t it absolutely the worst when you’re in a public place, minding your business when you walk past a couple making out right in front of you?”

“It is absolutely the worst, but how is it any relevant?” I asked, cocking my eyebrow in confusion. Jungkook was right, making out openly in public was rude, and obnoxious, and one of my biggest pet peeves, yet I highly doubted the ghosts had the same hierarchy of irritating situations. They’re dead, and they can haunt people without any consequences – that’s pretty dope itself, and I just couldn’t understand why it would be their top bête noire.

“Well… it’s not completely irrelevant, and besides, ever since you’ve mentioned you’re horny, I really wanted to kiss you,” Jungkook confessed, and my jaw dropped at the revelation. Jungkook wanted to do what!?

“Well… you just played yourself,” I stated, and Jungkook creased his forehead in confusion. “Is that a confession you’ve just recorded? I bet you want to record our kiss, too. That’s kinky, and weirdly enough, it turns me on a little bit,” I finished my thought, and then Jungkook smiled widely at me, figuratively lighting up the rundown basement which we were still in.

“Well… now you just really have to kiss me,” Jungkook retorted, and I smiled mischievously, curious of how he’s going to play his cards now, “unless you want me to show your parents a video of you confessing to your kinks.”

“Well… you should’ve waited a little bit longer, maybe I would’ve named all the other kinks I’m into,” I challenged, biting my bottom lip seductively. “If you really want our first kiss to be in this shabby, totally not haunted basement, then go for it,” I consented, waiting for him to approach me and knock the air out of my lungs with a world-shattering kiss.

“It’s not perfect, it’s not exactly what you deserve, but it will be a hell of a story to tell our grandchildren one day. Don’t you think?”

“I think you’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself,” I retorted, chuckling. Jungkook was acting ridiculous, and it was adorable. With his cute smile and firm butt, he could get away with anything. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

At first, I expected him to say something cringe-worthy like m’lady or alrighty, but thankfully, I was wrong. With one long stride, Jungkook approached me, resting his large hand on my hips before leaning in to kiss me.

The kiss was sensual and soft, and the way I had always imagined. Gently, Jungkook pressed his plump lips against mine, and we just moved, basking in pleasure. His hand was roaming over my back and butt, whereas mine was going through his silky hair, tousling it.

Gradually, it grew in passion. Jungkook pulled me closer against him, and I opened my mouth, inviting his tongue. Though it was only one kiss, it was quickly making me thirsty for more.

It felt blissful, yet it came to an abrupt stop when we heard a loud bang upstairs.

“Well… you were right, it obviously pissed someone off,” I whispered, chuckling.

“What do you think it was?” Jungkook asked, concerned about the strange noise. “It sounded as if someone just slammed the doors shut,” Jungkook stated, and I quickly agreed with him.

“But we left the doors closed, didn’t we?” I wondered, trying to remember our previous actions. Neither one of us was perfectly sober, yet I was pretty sure we did close the doors. “OMG, this is awesome! It was probably another group of adrenaline-seeking people! We could give them the spook of their life if we jumped out of the basement,” I explained, and I was sure I wasn’t perfectly sober right now either.

“It was probably the wind, but okay, let’s do this,” although knowing it was a stupid idea, Jungkook agreed to conduct my improvised prank.

Carefully, we made our way upstairs, yet when we jumped out of our hideaway, there was nobody there.

“Stupid wind,” I murmured under my breath, really bummed out by this whole situation. “Fuck you, you stupid house. You’ve wasted our time,” I hollered at nothing in particular as I approached the doors and pulled the knob. “Jungkook, it won’t open,” I announced, taking a step to the side, letting Jungkook’s strength to let us out.

Seriously, what kind of an estate agent would try to sell this house without repairing it first? At this point, only people from these HGTV shows would consider buying it, so they could later sell it with real profit.

At first, the doors didn’t want to budge either, but then he handed me his camera and roundhouse-kicked the doors open.

Whoever locked the doors, be it the wind, the ghost, or anyone else, Jungkook’s thick thighs were more powerful.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jungkook said as he grabbed my hand and led me outside, leaving the creepy though definitely not haunted house behind us.

***

Although the navigation system on my phone estimated our route to take us forty-five minutes on foot, Jungkook and I made that distance under half an hour. The house was creepy, but we were already late for Jiwoo’s party, and we didn’t want to face her wrath.

She had called me three times, and Jungkook and I lived in a universe where three missed calls from Jiwoo were more terrifying than fifty from mom.

When we reached Jiwoo’s house, we tried knocking on the doors, but unfortunately for us, everybody was already in a good mood. They couldn’t hear the knocks due to loud music, and I couldn’t be angry – it was our punishment for arriving so late.

Thankfully, when we walked the house around, the patio doors were open, so we got inside.

The house was packed with people, yet I was familiar with only a few of them – the majority of guests were Jiwoo’s college friends, and I haven’t yet acquainted them. In the kitchen, I saw Mario and Luigi, and I instantly knew it was Yoongi and Hoseok. Each year they have adorable couple costumes.

“Look who’s finally showed up,” I heard a loud voice from over the stairs, leading to the second floor. It was Daphne, closely followed by Fred.

“I guess Daphne and Fred just checked the bedroom,” I told Jungkook, and he chuckled, getting the reference. “I hope they didn’t find any ghosts.”

“I bet Scooby and Shaggy are already eaten by the ghost in the basement,” Jungkook carried on, and we both started to laugh.

“Your costumes are in my bedroom, but before you change, I have to feed us some jello shots,” Jiwoo started, making us follow her to the kitchen. “In which bushes were you two fucking, so you came so late?” She questioned, but Jungkook and I didn’t know how to reply. Jiwoo was unpredictable – she would either scold us for going to that house without her, or just shout at us for being reckless and irresponsible, but I guess it was her role in our friend circle.

She was the mom friend.

“We weren’t fucking,” I protested quickly, trying to buy us some time to get a better excuse for our late arrival. “If we were indeed fucking, we would be here before anyone else,” I joked, yet Jungkook didn’t find it particularly funny.

It didn’t worry me, though. Jungkook and I dissed each other daily, he wasn’t going to pout. If anything, he was plotting how to get his revenge.

“Well… true,” Jiwoo replied as she high-fived me. “Don’t worry, Kookie. I’m just messing with you,” she added, and I nodded, knowing she was extra mean to impress Jimin. Retorts weren’t her strongest suit, but so far, it was okay.

Jiwoo distributed the jello shots among the four of us, and to my surprise, they weren’t as strong as I had expected them to be. She had made them, and it came to me as a shock, then the proportions weren’t fifty-fifty.

“Oh my God, I just noticed you both have matching costumes. What a coincidence!” Jungkook hollered, faking his surprise, taking  revenge on Jiwoo.

“What can I say? Great minds think alike,” Jiwoo quickly retorted before Jungkook managed to embarrass her in front of her crush.

“Some things are just meant to be,” Jimin added, draping his arm over Jiwoo’s shoulder, making me and Jungkook gag. What the hell had we missed?!

We had totally wasted our time in that haunted house – we could have been here, watching their relationship develop in front of our eyes! Though I had no regrets after reaming around that disappointing trip to that house, now I had one regret. I was genuinely upset that I missed witnessing how the line between their friendship and love faded away.

“OK, you know what? Go upstairs and change. You disgust me without your costumes on,” Jiwoo ordered, shooing us upstairs.

Obediently, we headed to her bedroom, finding our costumes on her bed.

“I’m so tired,” I announced as I plopped down onto her bed, wanting to get some rest. The march from one location to another was more exhausting than I had initially thought, and my legs were killing me.

“Well… it’s all your fault, I told to we should call an Uber,” Jungkook replied, lying on the bed next to me. “No slacking,” Jungkook hollered, playfully slapping my butt. “If we don’t get downstairs in a few minutes, Jiwoo’s gonna bust in here and complain how we ruin her party.”

“True,” I agreed, and with a loud groan, I stood up to get changed. “And that reminds me. You’ve never told me what you’re dressing as this year,” I spoke, wondering what was inside the bag which was sitting next to my costume.

“I didn’t have time to come up with anything, so I asked Jimin to lend me his costume from last year. He was Jack Sparrow or something,” he explained, and I watched him unpacking the bag.

“Or something it is,” I started when I saw what his costume consisted of. It was basically a deep-cut white shirt, a pair of tight leather trousers, and a hat. “Good luck with fitting into it,” I snickered, wondering how uncomfortable it’s going to look like on his powerful thighs.

“Why don’t you shut up,” Jungkook said, not pleased with my commentary.

In silence, we got dressed, and since my costume wasn’t revealing, I could quickly put it on my clothes, which gave me plenty of time to gawk at Jungkook.

“I feel like a piece of meat, right now,” Jungkook commented, as he caught me staring at him, zipping his trousers. “Can you stop staring at me like that? I’m a person with feelings, not a sex toy.”

“Now you know how all girls in clubs feel,” I retorted and continued to stare at him shamelessly. Right now, I only needed a bucket of popcorn and a few bills which I could put under the hem of his pants.

“Aren’t you going to put that creepy make-up?”

“I was going to, but I don’t have energy nor patience to do that,” I answered lazily, watching him button his shirt. “Besides, I checked myself in the mirror, and I’m rocking that Mary-Eunice look right now,” I added, and Jungkook agreed, approving my American Horror Story costume.

“You know what? Even when you wear that ridiculous nun costume, I would still fuck you,” Jungkook blatantly confessed, and I giggled, not knowing how to react to this odd compliment. “I really must be wrapped around your little finger. You even made me go to that abandoned house.”

“You make me blush,” I admitted shyly before approaching him. Then, standing on my toes, I pecked his lips innocently. “We better go downstairs, Jiwoo must be furious at us for taking so long,” I added, exiting the room, leaving Jungkook speechless behind me.

Though at first, we were too tired to party hard, Jimin and Jiwoo engaged us in a few drinking games, and I was thankful I managed to bullshit myself out of playing truth and dare with them.

I realized what Jiwoo would make me do or confess, and I’d rather Jungkook find it out in different, more private, circumstances.

Around three a.m., people slowly started to get tired, one by one heading upstairs to either fuck each other’s brains out or simply find an empty bed to sleep in. At that time, Jungkook and I were chilling in the kitchen, munching on the food which other guests had the courtesy of leaving.

“We should go on a date on Saturday,” Jungkook proposed, and I looked him in the eyes, nodding my head. “What do you want to do on our first date?” He asked, leaning against the countertop next to me.

“Is there any chance you’re wearing this outfit on our first date?” I asked, and Jungkook quickly shook his head. I teased him all night about this outfit, and by now, he must’ve dreamed about taking it off at least a dozen times. Best case scenario: taking it off right in front of already naked me.

“Nope, stare at me while you still can,” Jungkook said, and I didn’t dare to question his decision. Though he looked like a snack, I respected his choice. He wasn’t going to wear it again, and I wasn’t going to force him. Besides, I was kind of curious about how he looked naked. “So… what do you want to do on Saturday? Bowling? A candlelight supper? Cinema?”

“I was gonna say that anything is fine as long as it’s with you, but would you really prepare a candlelight supper for me?” I questioned, quite amazed by his proposition. Jungkook rarely cooked himself, and even if he happened to whip something up in the kitchen, it would be ramen or something just as easy to make.

“Of course, anything,” Jungkook promised, and I tried my very best right not to kiss him. “It probably won’t be any tasty, but at least, I made it with my hands.”

Oh, screw it.

Instantly, I pulled him closer, smashing my lips against his. The moment he realized what I was doing, he reciprocated the kiss.

“I don’t really care,” I spoke, wrapping my legs around his hips. “Oh, shit,” I cursed upon noticing Jiwoo and pushed Jungkook away.

“I think everybody’s asleep already, what are you guys still doing here?” She asked, eyeing the both of us.

“Nothing, we were just eating,” I stated, though Jiwoo didn’t fully believe in my innocent reply. “What have you been up to? Your green scarf is gone, and you have a hickey on your neck. Have you had fun with Jimin?” I inquired, and she looked away in embarrassment.

Jiwoo had never been to shy away, but she didn’t act like herself around Jimin. When with him, she became a better person, and right now, she was blushing. It was the first time when I saw her behaving like that, and I liked it.

With Jimin by her side, Jiwoo was slowly turning in the best version of herself, and the transition was crystal clear. Even Jungkook wouldn’t miss it.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow; right now, I just want to clean up and go to bed,” Jiwoo said, and I knew it was our cue to live. I didn’t like cleaning, and I knew Jiwoo wouldn’t appreciate my help. She would prefer Jimin’s assistance. “You’re sleeping in the guest room with Yoongi and Hoseok.”

“Thanks,” I replied, and we slowly headed to the guest room, knowing that Jimin would shortly join Jiwoo. They thought they were subtle, but they really weren’t. One look was enough, and Jungkook and I knew everything.

“I hope Yoongi and Hoseok already fucked each other,” Jungkook stated before we entered our room, and I agreed. I wouldn’t like to walk on them fucking. I just wanted to lie down and get some sleep.

***

On Friday, I focused only on myself. I needed to recover fully after a long night of drinking, but also, I wanted to pamper myself a little bit before my date with Jungkook. I was sure he was going to prepare everything to perfection, like the golden boy he has always been, and it only made sense that his girlfriend (me) also ought to be perfect.

I took a long, relaxing bath, I wore a face mask, I ate plenty of fruit, I planned my next week of college, I even turned on the relatively new drama with Ji Changwook, and whipped up a mug of cocoa with marshmallows.

The day was peaceful, and I cherished every second of it before I had to face reality and go to classes on Monday.

In the evening, I even chatted with Jiwoo, listening to a few newest rumors. I didn’t expect her to have any time to spare, but apparently, to her, gossip was more important than her new boyfriend. Good thing she had her priorities set straight.

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | omg you won’t believe it!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | I know why Seulgi and Irene didn’t come

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | apparently

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | they were on a date yesterday!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | Chanyeol told Jimin that Jongin were their Uber driver and he took them to a fancy restaurant

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | I was gonna get really mad

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | but I ship them so hard

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | I mean…

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:23 | fucking finally

Jiwoo wasn’t ashamed of double texting, obviously. If she had gossip to deliver, she would spam anyone until she would get a reply, and frankly, it never upset me. Mostly because I was texting the same way.

Me | 17:25 | told you

Me | 17:25| I knew they had hots for each other

Me | 17:26 | you should be glad they didn’t come

Me | 17:26 | they probably fucked all night long

Me | 17:27 | that would be gross if they did it at your place

Me | 17:27 | it’s enough that Jungkook and I walked on Yoongi and Hoseok

Me | 17:28 | if it was my house I’d kick them out

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:30 | they did what????

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:31 | are you kidding me???

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:31 | so Jimin lied to me

Me | 17:32 | wow

Me | 17:32 | you started dating and he’s already lying

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:33 | Jimin told me they behaved well

Me | 17:34 | pls don’t make a scene

Me | 17:35 | you better let them taste their own medicine

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | I knew I shouldn’t have invited them

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | they’re cute but also horny af

With Jiwoo, when we started texting, we didn’t know how to stop. Topics would come and go, and we would always come up with something new. This night wasn’t any different. When we discussed everyone’s behavior during the party, late changing the subject to the people who couldn’t make it. Then, we would exchange messages about the newest K-POP hits, scandals, and dramas. Sometimes, we would even send memes to one another.

Usually, we would continue our conversation until one of us was tired and went to sleep, but tonight a bizarre text from Jungkook made me finish.

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | come over

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | now

Well… rude.

We didn’t even go on our first date yet, and he treated me like a booty call.

No, it couldn’t be.

Me | 21:42 | what do you mean???

Me | 21:42 | Jeon Jungkook

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:42 | get your juicy ass over here

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | asap

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | you need to see something

What the hell did he want? Couldn’t he wait until tomorrow to meet me? If he wanted to see me, he could just text me like he a regular person. He didn’t have to act like an asshole about it.

Me | 21:45 | fine

Me | 21:45 | I’ll be in thrity

Me | 21:46 | if it’s your dick that I need to see you’re dead

***

Within thirty minutes, I was at Jungkook’s apartment, breathing heavily. His flat was located on the fourth floor, and the elevator was out of order, and whenever I had to take the stairs, I could feel blood on my tongue.

It wouldn’t hurt me that much to tag along once in a while to the gym with Kook. Well… hopefully.

“What’s the emergency?” I asked instantly when Jungkook swung the doors open. “Jungkook, I swear, if it’s a booty call, I’m gonna be pissed,” I warned him when Jungkook grabbed my wrist and yanked me inside.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Jungkook reassured me as he led me to his bedroom.

Well… he might’ve said it wasn’t a booty call, yet his actions were giving me a totally different message. He was literally dragging me to his bedroom.

“What is going on?” I asked once again, as he made me sit in his gaming chair.

“So… I was editing the footage we recorded at this creepy house, and I found some weird shit,” he started before he leaned against the desk, looking for the right file to show me. “I watched every frame of these tapes, and there’s something seriously wrong with your individual session in the basement.”

“What do you mean by wrong? Can you be more specific? I didn’t feel nor see anything weird when I was down there,” I said, cocking my eyebrows up in utter confusion. Was there something my eye didn’t catch, but the camera did?

“Well… there is like a shadow lingering above you,” Jungkook confessed, and I fought the urge to laugh into his face. It was a shadow, and shadows do linger. “You don’t seem convinced, so why don’t you see for yourself?”

“Ugh, fine,” I answered, focusing on the screen.

I couldn’t believe my own eyes. Jungkook was right. It lasted for a couple of seconds; there was an irregular black specter behind me, and it couldn’t be my shadow – I was perfectly still while it moved for a while, and then disappeared.

It was terrifying.

“I’m speechless.”

Seeing my reaction, Jungkook sat on the edge of the desk and grabbed my hand.

“I know it looks like something supernatural, but I’m pretty sure it can be explained somehow. Don’t worry; all fellow ghost hunters would discredit this evidence in seconds.”

“I’m not worried; I don’t know what I’m feeling, but it’s not worry,” I spoke, still a little shook about the discovery. “Did you find anything else when editing?” I inquired, wondering if Jungkook had more aces up his sleeve.

“Nothing solid,” he declared with a sigh. “I was listening to the messages picked up by the spirit box, and one statement which you assumed unintelligible sounds like not alone, but once again, it’s not perfectly clear. It’s probably just my mind interpreting the white noise.”

“Too bad ghosts ain’t real. If we caught it on tape, we would be millionaires,” I confessed, and Jungkook nodded.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think we’ve gathered a lot of entertaining footage; my viewers are going to love it. It’s probably the dumbest video I’ve ever recorded,” Jungkook spoke, and I started to grin.

He was right – we were a great duo.

“Glad, I could help,” I answered proudly, boasting about my recording skills. Having tooted my own horn for an inappropriate amount of time, I inquired, “Since I’m already here, what do you want to do?”

“How about we cuddle?” Jungkook proposed, plopping on his bed, waiting for me to join him, and since his proposition was irresistible, I obediently lay down beside him, resting my head on his firm chest. “Mm… it’s so comfy,” Jungkook purred as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.

“Have you decided where you’re taking me tomorrow?” I inquired, curious as hell about our date. Knowing Jungkook and how perfect he was at everything he did, I could only guess he would exceed my wildest expectations.

“How is it gonna sound if I tell you I’ve already had it planned out for a while?” Jungkook confessed, and I giggled when he started to press delicate kisses across my neck. It was ticklish, but I liked being teased like that.

“Is there a chance you tell me? You know I hate surprises,” I spoke, turning around on my side, caressing Jungkook’s chest and abs. Jungkook smiled adorably and shook his head. Damn it. “Is there a chance I can guess it?” I tried a different approach, but Jungkook shook his head once again.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Jungkook said, and I pouted.

“Is there a chance I can convince you to tell me now?” I challenged him, and before he managed to shake his head again, I sat astride on his muscular thighs, making him speechless. “You can tell me. I can pretend I’m surprised tomorrow,” I urged him, playfully moving my hips against his crotch. Curiosity was in my nature, and Jungkook was really getting under my skin with his stubbornness.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated,” Jungkook stated before he effortlessly flipped us over, pinning me down to the mattress. “I’d love to push you to your limits, but I’m not ruining the surprise.”

“Come on, Jungkook. You can tell me. We’re best friends, and we don’t keep secrets from each other,” I carelessly mumbled until Jungkook shut me up with a passionate kiss, reminding me that we no longer were just best friends.

With my eyes closed, I gave in entirely, letting Jungkook’s hands roam all over my body. Our mouths moved in sweet harmony while my body writhed beneath him every time his little touches set my skin on fire.

This moment was magical, and I wished every time with Jungkook to be just as good. His smooth and soft movements made my body respond, leaving me breathless and craving for me whenever it lost contact with his hands.

“I really want to fuck you right now,” Jungkook absentmindedly confessed while he was pressing sensual kisses along my chin. “We should wait, shouldn’t we?” I inquired, and I wanted to shout my objection.

Judging by his boner digging into my thigh, he also wanted me to oppose.

“You should’ve thought about it before you kissed me like that,” I replied, and Jungkook smirked, tugging my blouse out of my jeans, slipping his large hands on my bare stomach, slowly making his way up to my breasts. “It’s too late to go back, lover boy,” I added, undoing the buttons of my blouse.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Drop dead,” I corrected him, and Jungkook hummed in agreement, his eyes focused on my cleavage, wondering how my breasts bounce. Arching my back, I wrapped my hands around Jungkook’s hips, pressing them against me, making me feel his throbbing cock.

“You won’t be a good girl, will you?” Jungkook asked me, and I bit my lip, shaking my head, hoping he expected such an answer. “Of course, you won’t. Why did I even ask?” Jungkook smirked, playfully nibbling my delicate skin all over my cleavage, while his hand undid the button of my jeans.

“You always assume the worst when it comes to me,” I reminded him, tugging the hem of his T-shirt, wanting to get rid of it. It wasn’t fair – I was almost half-naked while Jungkook was still fully-clothed. “Take it off, I’m losing my patience,” I ordered, and Jungkook quickly pulled his T-shirt over his head, tossing in on the floor. “Jeans, too,” I added, and with an angry growl, Jungkook stood up and discarded his pants as well.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, standing in front of me only in a pair of boxers.

“Over the moon,” I retorted, and Jungkook smirked as a playful idea crossed his mind. “What are you thinking about?” I questioned uncertainly, but Jungkook didn’t bother to reply. He just leaned forward, slid his fingers under the hem of my jeans, and pulled them down in one fluid motion.

“You make me impatient,” he confessed, and I kneeled on the bed, waiting for him to join me again. I needed him to kiss every inch of my body.

Right now.

“Come here,” I urged him, and he obediently sat on the bed, allowing me to sit astride on him again. “I wanna fuck you like this,” I blurted out, entwining my fingers behind Jungkook’s neck, pulling him closer into another heated kiss.

“I want you to fuck me like this,” Jungkook whispered when we finally parted. “Just jump on it and ride me until I come,” he said before reaching to his night stand for a condom. “Roll it down for me, will you?”

Obediently, I pulled Jungkook’s boxers down, and smeared the pre-cum all over his thick cock before putting a condom.

“I wanted it for so long,” Jungkook whispered when I raised my hips, slowly getting seated on his length. Though Jungkook didn’t go down on me before I took his cock, I didn’t mind it. It stung a little, but I enjoyed this sensation.

“Fuck yeah,” I moaned when I slid down his length all the way to the base. For a short while, neither of us moved, letting one another get used to it. “You stretch me up so fine,” I muttered, gently rolling my hips.

“Move, princess,” Jungkook urged me, and I began to ride him. At first, my actions were delicate and a little shy, but as soon as I relaxed, I picked up the pace, rocking my hips back and forth, making Jungkook moan loudly.

“I love it when men are vocal,” I confessed when I put my hands in his hair, tugging it slightly when I happened to fall out of my rhythm. “It gets me off much faster,” I added, and as if I challenged him, Jungkook moaned again.

“Good to know; now I gotta use this information to my advantage,” Jungkook whimpered with a soft smirk upon his face. “You love hearing my deep moans, don’t you?” Jungkook asked, and I replied in a heartbeat.

“Yes!” I exclaimed when Jungkook began thrusting his hips from underneath, shoving his cock deeper and deeper inside of me. “Ahh… Jung-Jungkook, keep fucking me like that, please, don’t stop,” I begged, and Jungkook even increased his pace, quickly making me overwhelmed in pleasure.

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook started, and I closed my eyes, feeling my orgasm approaching. With a couple of thrusts, I would come around his pulsating cock, and I couldn’t wait to welcome this blissful feeling. “So tight, yet you take my fat cock so well,” he praised, and I pulled his hair when he made me come.

“Fuck, Jungkook, that was amazing,” I praised him, and Jungkook kept ramming his dick inside of me, chasing his own release. His stamina was no joke, and I was feeling lucky because this incredible man was mine.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m coming.” Shortly after me, Jungkook reached his orgasm, milking the condom with his jizz. “You’re out of this world,” Jungkook whispered before he wrapped his arms around me tightly, kissing me deeply.

We were both sticky with sweat, and we smelled like sex, but right now, I couldn’t care any less. Jungkook and I were floating in heaven.

“We should do it again in the morning,” Jungkook proposed, and I laughed, realizing it was the first time in my life I was actually excited to wake up early.

Unfortunately, our plans fell through.

Before my arrival, Jungkook had uploaded our Halloween clip into his YouTube channel, and then, Jimin forwarded it to Jiwoo.

Needless to say, Jiwoo blew up my inbox with notifications, furious at me and Jungkook for doing something so reckless shit without her supervision. Once again, she was the mom friend, and going into an abandoned house without her knowing was pure evil.

Thankfully, she didn’t hold a grudge for a long time – she grew pretty soft on us as soon as she discovered Jungkook and I were well… dating.