#all of those things that were going inside my head were trumped by the fact that i did go in and did buy what i needed

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[thessalian]

Thess vs The Blessing/Suck Balance

The first thing I will say is that yes, I am well aware that I post a lot about American politics, even though I don't live there. I am going to continue doing so, for a lot of reasons. Like ... most of my nearest and dearest live there, and most of them are in really horrible positions if Trump gets back in. Like ... even if I didn't know anyone in the fucking country, I have this little thing called empathy, and I don't want anyone to suffer what Trump would be willing to do to the US. Like ... also the passingly curious fact that politics does not exist in a vacuum and Trump getting into the White House the first time was already seen as proof that some really horrific shit is not only acceptable but desirable, and this country is bad enough as it is without more of that populist bigoted bullshit. Seriously, having been through the whole "elect a populist leader" bullshit back in 2019 ... vote for Biden. Hell, if the Democrats have to scrap Biden and put a head of lettuce as the Democratic candidate, vote for the fucking lettuce. It would have done a better job than Liz Truss, and will certainly do a better job than Trump.

Anyway.

My migraine is still torturing me. This isn't helped by rising temperatures. It's supposed to get up to 32C tomorrow (nearly 90F, by the way), and ... yeah, a) I'm more sensitive to heat than I used to be because fibro, and b) the meds I'm on are apparently less effective in the heat. Because my life is just fun that way.

However, there was some good about today, and oddly enough, it came out of my stupid Zoom staff meeting. I mean, most of it wasn't great. The bad news was:

They hired New Girl as a permanent member of staff, same as Temp (who I will continue to call temp because that's how we know her now). So I guess that explains why she persistently takes only all the smaller, shorter bits of typing - why should she try harder when she was made permanent on minimal effort? Ugh.

The devs who gave us our frankly janky electronic records system are currently trying to code transcription software into said janky electronic records system. The jackasses do things according to what they find useful and user-friendly, and kind of ignore what functionality the rest of us need to consider it user-friendly, so I'm not looking forward to this. But it's IT, so it'll take half-past forever, so I won't worry about it yet.

They want to add more non-typing work to our collective plates. Scruffman was like, "Look, lemme show you how to do this thing but we won't be starting to ask you to do it, like, tomorrow or anything", as apparently it'll only come to us when we're understaffed and/or he's away. And seemed a little taken aback when I asked him to actually write down the procedure so that we could have it to refer to when we were asked to do the thing, because he won't be there to ask for guidance.

Scruffman does not have an inside voice and having him literally in my ear via earbuds was not a fun experience, given migraine.

However, all that badness aside, here's the good news:

The other issue I flagged up when we were asked to start helping with that particular non-typing work was how hard it was going to be on a small laptop screen. Also flagging up how I requested a proper monitor and a USB hub to plug it into back in fucking January and that apparently stalled right the hell out. So Scruffman's going to try to expedite that, at least. Also Goblin's a little happy with me because me bringing that up flagged up to her that she'd do better with a proper monitor too.

When we got to Any Other Business? I was migrainous and a little fed up in general, so I brought up a few of The Annoyances - specifically the two who refuse to actually dictate a block key and the one who doesn't pause recording while taking measurements and thus makes us listen to an awful lot of silence over the dictation. Apparently, those three had been driving Goblin up the wall too. Now, Scruffman seemed to want us to take that to the guy in charge of the dictating doctors ourselves, but I flagged up that it's actually way more professional to have it coming from the secretary's line manager, since just one of us flagging up the issue could be ignored as just one of us with a problem, and all of us flagging up the issue in separate emails would just be petty. So Scruffman accepted that and hopefully this will make a few of The Annoyances less annoying. (Though nothing will make one of those particular three Annoyances less annoying because ... well, accent. Word salad. It's a thing.)

So I'm trying to focus on the silver lining here. Shame it's kind of balanced by suck in terms of my professional life.

I don't want to cook dinner. I want a curry. Eh well.

[talkingpointsusa]

Debunking Charlie Kirk on student debt relief

Every time I watch Charlie's crap my eye is automatically drawn to that bizarre ass Eagle head impaled on an American flag in the background. (source: Charlie Kirk on Rumble)

Charlie Kirk, he's a profoundly bizarre human being. The fact that he's as serious a figure in the Republican party as he is should horrify all of us. Anyway, Charlie has thoughts on student loan forgiveness that are about as dumb as you might expect. Lets get into it.

10:57, Charlie Kirk: "Where was Joe Biden yesterday? Was Joe Biden staring into the heavens to look at the Eclipse? Was Joe Biden taking a nap in the East Wing? No, Joe Biden was in one of the states he believes will decide the entire election."

So....campaigning. This isn't exactly a new concept in politics. Trump does it too Charlie.

Also, Charlies really trying to go for that "dramatic newsman" thing in this episode. He has a newspaper with him on the desk and he reads that Biden has rebooted student debt relief right off the front page as if it were about JFK getting shot.

Anyway, the thing that Charlie is pissed off about is Joe Biden unveiling a new student debt relief plan. If this plan goes through, it could relieve the student debt of almost 30 million Americans. Given the increased cost of living, which particularly affects students, this is an objectively good thing. Given that we as a society obviously want more people to go to college and learn the skills that they need to contribute to society, this is a total no-brainer. Speaking of no-brainers, here's Charlie's take on the issue.

13:11, Charlie Kirk: "What is this, actually, what Joe Biden is doing? This is naked bribery."

So, this is Charlie Kirks angle on this issue. He thinks that it's bribery. If Biden doing a good thing for Americans is bribery, then every semi-decent president who has put in debt relief and economic programs has also engaged in bribery. All this does is help Americans through college and that's absolutely a good thing.

Charlie's position on this is wildly unpopular by the way. According to a 2023 Bloomberg poll, 47% of Gen Z voters believed that Biden wasn't doing enough to relieve student debt at the time. That same poll showed that 59% of Gen Z voters approve of Biden's plans to cancel 127$ billion in student debt.

13:42, Charlie Kirk: "Remember, as we say frequently here on this program - tyrants have two ways to hold on to power. Fear and free stuff. Fear and Free stuff. Fear and free stuff. In one week you have seen grandmas be sentenced to prison for praying in the capitol, a week later Joe Biden goes away to give free stuff for college students and college graduates in Madison Wisconsin."

I was curious as to what Charlie was talking about regarding the old woman praying so I did a little digging. Turns out it's more January 6th apologetics.

The person that he is referring to is a woman from Falcon Colorado named Rebecca Lavrenz who was at the Capitol on January 6th. She was inside the Capitol which is an illegal act of trespassing on a federal building. Plus, she was part of a mob that intended to overturn a presidential election. Whether or not she was praying is completely irrelevant here. Unless Charlie's saying that it's OK to commit crimes as long as I'm praying while I'm committing the crime.

Also, fear? Very few people even know that this case even happened. I'm not buying the idea that prosecuting people for crimes is some kind of intimidation tactic because that's extremely stupid.

14:39, Charlie Kirk: "And the Biden plan is, no joke, to give most student loan relief to those who have been the least responsible in their behavior. That's right, the people that have paid off the loans the worst. So not only is this debt forgiveness, not only is this bribery, but if you've been paying off your student loans your a sucker."

Or those people are struggling financially and need more help than others. I guess helping others out isn't in Charlies lexicon.

15:03, Charlie Kirk: "If you're a plumber, an electrician, a welder, if you're a police officer, a firefighter, an entrepreneur. If you served our military and didn't go to college, Joe Biden says 'heh, get out of the way.'"

I know that Charlie is having a blast listing jobs that come to his mind but are those people students? This conversation is about student debt relief and those people listed have steady and oft well paying jobs. They're extremely important to our society but those people aren't necessarily financially struggling like many students and recent graduates are.

Student debt relief actually helps the economy.

15:13, Charlie Kirk: "It is the individuals that studied North African lesbian poetry at the University of Wisconsin-Madison that are not able to pay of their loans. They're the ones that Joe Biden is attempting to bribe."

This is a huge Charlie Kirkism, it's also a pretty big Ben Shapiroism. If you consume nothing but right-wing media you'd assume that there are armies of people taking majors that don't easily apply to the job market and that these people deserve it for....studying something they're interested in I guess.

The problem is that it's not true. According to the National Centre for Education Statistics, the number one most studied major in the USA is business. Hmmm, that's pretty far from North African Lesbian Poetry (which by the way sounds like a really fun major but I won't belabor the point), maybe the second most studied major is more in line with that. Oh wait, the second most studied major in the United States is health, so studying to become a doctor or a nurse. As a matter of fact, all of the top ten are extremely traditional majors.

Number 9's journalism. That's me, yay :D

When you tally up all the percentages, you'll find that these ten majors make up for 75.9 percentages of degrees. But I'm sure that the 25% are the people who getting all the student loan forgiveness because they majored in North African Lesbian Poetry. Either that or Charlies argument doesn't make sense, like at all.

Also, if you look at the average salaries for all of these careers you'll find that Charlies argument about all these majors being low paying and financially unviable is totally ridiculous. If you calculate the average salary out of all of the salaries listed it comes up with $62,900. Seems like people are pursuing financially lucrative majors but seem to have something else holding them back...something else that can be relieved maybe.

15:49, Charlie Kirk: "Now what would make sense is making it so students can't take out these loans to attend the schools that have no financial value in the first place, wouldn't that be nice? Stop giving loans to gender studies and race studies. Stop letting people borrow $150,000 dollars for a photography degree."

"Yeah, why don't they just not give out loans to people taking courses that I don't like?"

Also, here's an interesting and often unacknowledged fact - people with degrees in gender studies make bank. According to Data USA, gender studies majors make an average wage of $85,454 a year and the industry is growing. But the point still stands that 3 quarters of American college students aren't getting degrees in things like gender studies and photography so its a moot point.

16:16, Charlie Kirk: "So who gets most hosed in this system? Anyone who was responsible. There are millions of ways -- there are millions of people who avoided college to avoid debt. Other people went to lower ranked schools on scholarship. Some people did AP classes in high school. Some people went to community college first. Some people did a stint in the military just to get the GI money. All of you are losers."

So, Charlies got two arguments here.

1): Just don't get an education - again, most nations have figured this out and offer college for free. As it stands now, college is extremely expensive but increases your chances of getting a job. So really this argument is just stupid because it reinforces a terrible system that Biden is somewhat helping to fix (although I personally am a believer in college being entirely free like in many European nations)

2): We shouldn't make any progress because that's unfair to the people who struggled before the progress was made - if you take what Charlie is saying here to its logical conclusion society wouldn't move forward at all because we'd be caught up in how unfair progress is to people who didn't get to benefit from that progress in the past.

Conclusion:

Charlie Kirk is usually a pretty good pulse for what the right-wing griftospheres take on new policies will be. Charlie really just trotted out the usual right-wing talking points about student debt relief that don't really make any sense. For a guy who runs what is supposedly a right-wing student organization, Charlie not only took the single most unpopular position on this issue but the stupidest.

Cheers and I'll see you in the next one.

Sources:

Original Video:

“Biden’s Student Loan Bribe + the Ukraine Money Pit | Mansour, Sacks, Klingenstein | LIVE 4.9.24.” Rumble.com, 9 Apr. 2024.

Student Debt Relief:

Douglas-Gabriel, Danielle. “Biden Makes Another Pitch for Student Loan Relief, but Challenges Loom.” Washington Post, 8 Apr. 2024

Browning, Lynnley. “What to Know about the Latest Student-Loan Forgiveness Plans.” Intelligencer, 2 Apr. 2024.

“Biden Forgave Billions in Student Debt. Poll Shows It’s Not Enough for Gen Z.” Bloomberg.com, 14 Dec. 2023.

Griset, Rich. “How Wiping out All Student Loan Debt Would Change the Economy.” Fortune, 3 Jan. 2022.

“10 Most Popular College Majors.” Coursera,

Miller, Dan. “What Would Be the Impact of Canceling Student Debt?” Investopedia, 9 Oct. 2023.

Woman praying in the Capitol:

Keith, Tony. “Falcon Woman Known as “Praying Grandma” Found Guilty for Her Role in the U.S. Capitol Riot.” Https://Www.kktv.com, 8 Apr. 2024.

[stargazer-tps]

Overanalyzing Lydia’s Flute (sort of a rant)

Hello everyone! I have a bit of something different today but maybe y’all can help me on this. So I’ve been on a Barbie kick, and specifically I’ve fallen back into the Barbie and the Diamond Castle hole, if you could not tell.

ANYWAY, for a really long time now, I’ve been trying to wrap my head around how Lydia’s flute like…. Actually functions, because it’s confusing to look at and I’ve come to the conclusion that it in fact would not function as an instrument because the animators and artists were probably not expecting anyone to look too closely at her instrument and thus made something that looked cool but was impossible to play.

But seriously, what kind of a flute is this???

The idea of her double flute is likely based on the aulos, which was actually a double reed instrument like an oboe, but that is very clearly not the case here. (It’s not the case for the “good guy” version of this flute either, based on her embouchure and the fact that the entire thing appears to be made out of Ambiguous Gray Material and does not have visible reeds, but whatever I guess.) There’s no edge for the stream of air to be split between the inside and outside of the tube, as on a recorder or a transverse flute (which is how those instruments make sound), and her embouchure does not suggest that she’s buzzing her lips as you would on a trumped, which means that we’ve exhausted all of the possible ways for an aerophone to make sound.

But Stargazer, you might be saying, maybe there is a hole like on a recorder and you just can’t see it, like how you couldn’t see the finger holes on Melody’s whistle!

To which I reply, “maybe! But there’s also the issue that the two tubes of her flute appear to not really be connected at all (on the inside). Based on this angle, I thought they might be connected like with a drone flute:

But based on this angle, they are in fact not connected like that and appear to be like… glued together at the top or something. Like it doesn’t look like air from the mouthpiece is actually going through the second tube, but evidently it is somehow. Like, you can clearly see space between them:

Anyway I am very confused and I do not like how this fictional magical instrument does not obey the physics of real life instruments or something.

[dumbestthingiveeverheard]

Dumbest Thing I've Ever Heard: 8/14/2023

Fifth Place: Dean Phillips

Another day, another Democrat trying to push for somebody--anybody--to come out and primary President Biden for reasons that never make any fucking sense. Of course, Phillips is a "moderate Democrat" (read: Republican) who clearly wants Biden out of the way because of how progressive the President is--and honestly, I think Biden should welcome the hatred of people like this. I also cannot believe we live in a world where Joe Biden of all people is too progressive for some Democrats, but here we are.

Mind you, Biden is much more well liked not just among the insiders of the Democratic Party but also among the rank and file members who actually would vote in a primary. Meaning any chance of a primary against him is unlikely to be successful, but the fact that these idiots keep trying to run to Biden's right while assuming that's what the Democratic voter base wants (a large chunk of Democrats are too the left of Biden) is just sad. And that's not even getting into how Biden is seen as some sign of the status quo by these people--while they constantly want alternatives who are too his right and would more than likely continue the status quo, albeit with a younger face.

Of course, this fear about Biden being old is a totally manufactured concern by the political class. The average voter doesn't care how old a politician is--in fact, back in 2016 and 2020 the youngest voters went for Bernie Sanders, who is even older than Biden. This is all just bullshit designed to scare Biden into not running for re-election, and I am very happy he has not fallen for it.

Fourth Place: Kurt Schlichter

Speaking of primary challengers that have no chance of going anywhere, Ron DeSantis is still running for President--and Kurt over at Townhall firmly believes he'll be the nomination. You see, according to Kurt, the real reason why DeSantis isn't leading in the polls is because nobody has heard of him yet:

Remember, this is a primary race, not a Twitter popularity race. The simple fact is that the polls in July 2023 do not reflect the real situation on the ground in 2023, much less 2024 when the actual voting happens. You know who are active right now? The activists. And those aren’t polls of activists. Those are polls of regular people living regular lives who think “Yeah, I like Trump and Trump’s getting a raw deal from the scumbag prosecutors, and he’s the only guy I really know about, so I’m going to put his name down.” They haven’t had to think hard about it yet. They haven’t had to weigh the facts. They haven’t really looked at Ron DeSantis’s record – if they’re looking at Twitter, they’re going to think that he parties with Paul Ryan over at George Soros’s crash pad. That kind of dumb lie is easy to dispel, and when people see that they’ve been lied to, they’re going to look deeper to find the truth. 

You mean four years of the media shoving him down our throats hasn't been enough time for the average person to know his record? And none of this is even getting into the stupidity of assuming that people who are political enough to vote in the Republican primary also haven't taken the time to know who DeSantis is.

Mind you, more exposure to DeSantis does not seem to be helping him--if anything, the opposite seems to be the case. Remember two years ago when DeSantis was seen as the 2024 frontrunner? Some were even predicting that he'd replace Donald Trump as head of the Republican Party by the midterm elections--and that never happened. That is because people saw exactly who Ron DeSantis was, and they didn't like it.

Third Place: Ron DeSantis

A short follow up on my last entry, it seems like Ron has trouble keeping the attention of the people who already know of him. Here's some reporting from Mediaite:

Donald Trump literally overshadowed Ron DeSantis — with planes – at the Iowa State Fair on Saturday, flying over the event and prompting the throngs of GOP voters to chant “we want Trump!” while the Florida governor was flipping burgers and trying to woo support.

This man seriously thinks people want him to be President.

Second Place: Karl Lake

The former Arizona candidate for Governor challenged somebody to "milk a bull" in order to prove that there are only two genders. Of course, given people aren't steer--and people assigned male at birth can produce milk if they have enough estrogen in their system, by the way--this comparison was seen as really dumb, because it is.

Winner: Merrick Garland

I talked Friday about Merrick's choice to create a special council to investigate Hunter Biden, which was little more than an attempt to appease Republicans--and said attempt has failed as many Republicans, including ones who asked for the exact special prosecutor Garland picked, are still upset with him.

So Garland has lost all Biden supporters and Biden critics--this is the most Merrick Garland move of all time.

Merrick Garland, you've done the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

[understanding-parrots]

What is this blog?

What’s going to be posted here? Why did I feel compelled to make this blog? Who the hell am I and what qualifies me to have or share my thoughts on this topic? This is going to be a labour of love regarding something I spend vast amounts of time reflecting on. I’m hoping to organise my thoughts and discuss them with others who may have ideas or an interest.

Here’s the TLDR

What: parrot psychology, welfare and contrasting views on conventions and touted rules.

Why: I love parrots and think many opinions and rules regarding them miss the mark.

Who: a person with OCD who lives with many parrots and has very strong feelings about their welfare.

Those who aren't interested in the background should move onto the next post :BUT PLEASE: read this post before disputing my views or anything along those lines; it's only fair. I'm not here to make people feel bad about how they do things or to argue. We all have our own thoughts and feelings based on our experiences but none of us have all the answers. I love to learn, especially about birds. If you disagree with my point of view, let's talk about it. Learning you were wrong about something opens up new avenues to understand things better; which I welcome.

The What and the Why

Those whose lack of attention span trumps their interest in parrots, this might not be the blog for you: it's going to get textical up in here. There will be pretty pictures though.

For those with an excess of attention; sources will be brought in wherever possible. Please ask, message or comment and discuss your opinions and experiences with me.

The word parrot typically summons images of vivid, beautiful birds with large hooked bills. Maybe they are saying silly or offensive things, perhaps reciting vocabulary on queue or maybe flicking their head back and forth to metal music while screaming. Maybe they are riding bikes. We see them in movies, videos online, pass them in pet shops. It feels like we generally get what they are about. I spent six years obsessing over them and researching them in between general bird-watching, bird photography and doing my research before committing to taking one in. At this point, I still somehow had no idea about the depth and complexity of the relationships they are capable of forming with us. How is that possible? Most of us despite having an "understanding" that parrots are very intelligent creatures don't seem to actually comprehend what that even means. Everyone who meets anyone from my flock is blown away by what they can do, what they can say, their level of affection towards me, even just the fact they will wear a harness. Some people ask if the birds have have names. Some people ask how we remember all of their names. People are sometimes surprised they live inside. Even people who have birds, love birds or work with birds have been shocked by even the most rudimentary aspects of our flock life. I spend a lot time thinking about what people believe, what articles (and websites in general) say, the rules that are pushed; and how much of it doesn't necessarily stand up to scrutiny beyond a cursory glance. This makes me feel the need to try and organise my thoughts on the subject.

The Who

I’m a diagnosed OCD person who is part of a large flock of parrots. Since taking in our first parrot we have taken in many more. I have worked with volunteer organisations rescuing and rehabilitating endangered cockatoos; I’ve worked in breeding, raising and training various types of parrots. Our flock has come to us from a multitude of different circumstances ranging from hatching them to taking in self-mutilating birds who's owners are leaving them behind while moving away, from birds who would have been euthanised if given to an institution, to birds who have been sold off to pet stores by family when their owner has passed away.

I don't do anything ground-breaking. I am not claiming to be the parrot messiah. I simply love birds. I have a deep and unique relationship with every bird I've taken in. Each of them are individuals. They have their own personalities, quirks, preferences and problems. I just want to try to organise my constant thoughts about it all and to help people look at these incredible creatures and their behaviour from a different angle.

[the-firebird69]

You have several things that are happening because of us moving the stuff they're open arms they're going after it and yeah they're chasing after it and we're pushing people out of dealerships I was going after them were doing after people who are chasing after it, we're going after people in the dealerships and all over the world and Ford dealerships and yeah we need Chevy and others and was thinking of signing tonight and they are too and it says to get them in there now and sign Chevy and whoever else wants to volunteer to do it and Toyota is and Honda and we have plansiac Chrysler actually they're going to try and get it all together for tonight here and then tomorrow in the in the other countries then they said no tonight right now and they'll do it over there and we said okay and the headquarters is here no it's in New York City so they're going to do it both places but it's going on now and for more than just automobiles and we're moving it and they see it. Matter of fact we're getting attentive agreement faxed over. And for each company we're reading it inside it and faxing it back. It's good enough it's 90%. So we're going to start sending stuff and both of us do it and it's this huge Force around it and it's going to draw them and they're going to get nailed and it's all over the world and it's way more than they can handle and they suck it's going to be over for now and the movies will start the mob movies my son says he wants the sausage up this is why I said because I want all the idiots in the city and the idiot will threaten the other idiot and that's what the idiot wants he goes which idiot now that would be Jason would be threatening Trump in the hate each other and it's probably why Lily shoots him in the head that's probably why and all those nincompoops will go in the city and their cover and it's absurd they're going to message each other up and if it Tommy F doesn't care he says no not really he will afterwards but he doesn't care now so mac gets it and it's on, it's a great idea and yeah it's my idea and I talked to him and her about it and it was Freya her idea too

It's very forceful it's very potent and powerful and hasn't happens in a certain time and this is the time and I knew about that and I started laughing he goes wow this is awesome and I said laughed again and he said finally I got one in there that was me saying it

Thor Freya

Wow this is going to be great we better look at it

Olympus

[rockinmyownboat]

Vindieziel Wooksvagen:

The Nazi Pinata

There's a phrase i use all the time to encapsulate those insane moments when life spirals out of control like a freebasing pimp on the freeway. When life is on its way to smack me, fuck me and steal my money, i just bend over, smile and say,

"It is what it is."

I love it. You literally can't say anything more. Complain all you want, but what good will it do?

It is. What it is.

Heres an example of a great use of this timeless classic.

I bought a used car. Its A jetta TDI. Its a great drive. Fast as hell. Powerful. Handles like a fucking dream, the way that fine German cars are designed to. You could take this thing on the autobahn and it would cling to every curve like silk on a supermodel.

The car has been running great, mechanically, which is EXACTLY what i wanted. I prayed for that. I asked God for it.

I said, "God, give me A mechanically sound car that hauls ass. And please give me a ripped guardian angel who can keep up. I can install my own stereo deck. Amen"

And i left it at that.

God answers prayers.

With a sense of humor.

This spunky little German is my Nazi pinata. Just one bad surprise after another.

Here's the conversation that's been going through my head every day for the last 4 days since Snowmageddon '23 besieged the citizens of Portland.

I preface this with the fact that ive owned this car less than 2 months.

Me: Gosh...Driving around on a tire steadily leaking is bad enough. Now i have to do it on ice, like... what the fuck am i? a German figure skater with a burst breast implant?

wait .... i can pump it up ....i have a portable air compressor. Im good there....

There we go. Tires pumped. Im as pumped as my tire. Pump up the jams, and Lets go. Driving a diesel on ice makes me feel like im on Ice Road Truckers.

BRING IT ONNNN....

>a few minutes later, staring at the low tire air indicator on the dash, while slipping and sliding down thick sheets of ice that were streets yesterday<

Inner voice : Change the bloody tire...?

Me: Well... i can't.... there's........ no tire places open ... everything's Frozen ... gotta let it go...

IV: You have a bloody spare, you idiot! You could change your own tire, right??? You're as worthless as pig shit on an oil pan aren't you??

Me: Well no ... I'm not .... i could change my own tire...

>lightbulb< I have a spare! SAVED!!!

... wait ....

oh no ....

IV: Where in the bloody hell is the sodding tire jack???

Me: ummm ......

Damn.

IV: Well shit to that idea. Good thing you thought to check for that at the dealership when you bought the car, you fuckin muppet!

Me, somewhat frazzled: Okay, but i got roadside assistance? ATT? Farmers? AAA???? They could come out to put the spare on for me... yes! Ill call them! One of them HAS to be able to make this happen ....

IV: Ha!! Guess what? They have the EXACT BLOODY SAME service provider pool. No responses to level 2 requests. Emergencies only. Blizzard trumps all like its trying to make Oregon less than great again. Foiled again!

>this is where i start slowly breaking down as my inner Chef Ramsay lets loose with a tirade<

Oh hey, don't forget the check engine lights still on, and it will beep incessantly like a digital chinese water torture device.

>anxiety reaching critical levels<

And the driver side handle is still busted from the LAST ice storm, so good luck on those contortionist skills. Every day, you'll open up the driver side door through the back door, from the inside...

Get creative and think thin, you chunky monkey.

Lets add 14 inches of ice and snow to add a degree of coordination challenges as you're trying to get on the road for work, Slippy mcLegstretchy

>anxiety at maximum capacity<

As you settle in with broken seat warmers, take some more snow and smile as you choke on it.

Mother Natures on the rag and you're her bloody tampon.

>critical point reached. Its time to scream<

As i slide down an icy urban Slip'n'Slide, im minnowing back behind a city bus doing a fishtail -- wait no ... i guess its a whale-tail....

...lets be accurate....

...I think to myself .... it is what it is.

[mcuwitxh]

Drukkari headcanon: Makkari loves it when Druig reads to her

Word count: 1564

of all of the things that Makkari loves most dearly in this world, only two of them trump her love for reading: 1) Druig, and 2) when Druig reads to her. she discovered the latter one cold night, after she had a particularly bad nightmare.

they were all standing on the beach. they had beat their enemy, but they hadn’t won— Druig was gone. Makkari feels like a shell, her soul empty from the weight of the irreplaceable loss, yet heavy with guilt that she couldn’t save him. she wishes Ikaris had killed her too. 

suddenly she feels a familiar heartbeat. at first she thinks she was imagining it. but then she feels it again, more clear this time. no… it couldn’t be. unless…

she turns around reluctantly. her knees nearly buckle at the sight of a familiar figure walking towards her. she can’t tell if he’s real or not, but she meets him halfway across the demolished beach. Druig— her Druig— was stood before her, seemingly fine sans a few scrapes and cuts on his face and a noticeable limp. but those injuries were minor and inconsequential compared to the fact that he was alive, alive for her. his eyes were still bright, his smile was still happy as ever at the sight of her.

she falls into his familiar arms that have come to feel like home. she burrows her head into the crook of his neck and cries, cries for the love they almost didn’t have. cries for the chance at a happy life that was almost taken from them. she squeezes Druig lightly as if he would fade away if she let him go. he strokes her hair slowly, and Makkari can feel him whispering words of reassurance into her ear. the soft murmur of his heartbeat eases her anxiety… he was there. 

she forgets how long they’ve been stood like that but suddenly his body feels cold against her. she didn’t notice when his hand had stopped running through her hair and his soft voice had been silenced. 

she pulls away and sees his skin gray and his eyes rolled back inside his head. his pale face was covered in dark red blood that oozed out of a deep gash across his forehead. his nose was bleeding and his lips were cut up. Makkari releases an inaudible scream, throwing his limp body away from her.

•

she jolted upright in bed, drenched in a thick blanket of cool sweat. hot flashes wash over her like waves in a vicious cycle, again and again, as she struggled to manage her breathing. she couldn’t control the stream of tears that escaped her eyes if she wanted to. when the warm tears met the curve of her lip on the way down her face, she was left with a bitter, salty taste in her mouth. her vision was blurred and she could feel her body shaking. she pressed her hands to her face, squeezing her eyes shut with her palms in attempt to rid her mind of the horrific images she had just seen.

Druig heard her hyperventilating next to him and immediately jolted awake. he was out of bed and on the other side of the room within seconds, kneeling on the ground in front of her side of the bed. he placed a careful hand on her knee, shaking her gently to get her attention.

“Makkari, look at me.” he said as he signed her name on her leg, hoping she would understand, hoping she felt the vibration of his voice and knew that he was there. 

to Druig’s disappointment, this only made her cry harder, though, her hands shaking where they were pressed over her eyes. she brought her knees to her chest and dug her head in between them, hiding her face from his sight. 

panic set in the pit of Druig’s stomach— panic because he wasn’t sure how to calm her down. he hadn’t ever seen her in this state before and he would have been lying if he said it didn’t absolutely terrify him.

he readjusted his position on the floor, shifting closer towards her.

“Makkari, you’re okay. just take a deep breath. try and control your breathing, my love.” he wasn’t sure how to help her. he didn’t know what to say or what to do. but, he knew that breathing helped him whenever he had a nightmare, and so hopefully, hopefully, it could help her too. 

his hopes were crushed when she shook her head side to side frantically. she lifted her head slightly to look at him, but she was more looking through him.

“i can’t breathe.” she signed with shaking fingers, finally releasing her hands from her face. there were red marks around her eyes from where her palms were pressed, nails dug into her forehead. Druig’s heart broke at the sight of her resolve. he felt tears rise in his throat, but he quickly swallowed them down. he had to be in the moment with her, not breaking down himself. he knew she was counting on him to be strong for the both of them in that moment. 

Druig furrowed his brow and moved every so slightly closer to her, careful as if not to scare or startle her. as painful as it was seeing her like this, as much as he just wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her go, he knew better.

“no, you’re okay. i promise you’re okay. i’m here.” he gently places his hand on her chest, right near her heartbeat, hoping that the weight of his hand would ground her. “as long as i’m here, you can breathe. you’re okay. okay? i promise.” his voice became softer with each word he spoke. Makkari had never felt his voice this soft, ever. it surprised even Druig himself.

he continued to rub soothing circles around her back, whispering reassuring words to her. eventually, her crying died down, her shaking stopped, and her breathing evened out. eventually, she caught her breath and Druig saw her muscles relax as she started taking deep breaths.

“there you go, come back to me.” he encouraged as she regained her bearings. eventually she unfurled her legs and wiped her face with the back of her sleeve. slowly she released her hands from where she had them pressed over her face, and let them fall into her lap. Druig took this opportunity to hold her hands in his, rubbing random patterns  over her soft, tear-stained knuckles. 

after a few moments, or it could’ve been a few hours, Druig didn’t know, he didn’t care— Makkari gave him a nod that said ‘I’m okay now.’ Druig breathed a sigh of relief as Makkari’s eyes met his for the first time that night. he couldn’t control the smile that formed from his mouth from the sight of her. despite her pink, blotchy skin, red eyes swollen from crying, her messy hair, and her face drenched in soggy tears, she looked as mesmerizing as ever. she was, in that moment and always, his beautiful Makkari. 

he placed a tender kiss on the back of her hand before rising to his feet, untangling their hands in the process. her skin there became cold from the missing connection of their entwined fingers. her curious eyes followed him across the room as he pulled something out from one of her dresser drawers. between the blurriness in her eyes from crying, and the dark of the night, she could hardly make out the object in his hands.

he returned to his usual spot on his side of the bed. that’s when she saw he was holding a book— her favourite one in particular, about the Chinese Shang dynasty. he stretched out his left arm, inviting her to cuddle. she took the invitation immediately, nuzzling her head into his warm chest. she used the familiar vibration patterns of his heartbeat to ground herself back into reality, back to the four walls of their shared bedroom, back to Druig’s safe arms.

he opened the book and started reading aloud, slowly. although she could not hear his voice, she understood him in different ways. she closed her eyes and let the soothing sound of the vibrations of his voice wash over her. his familiar voice was comforting, and lulled her back to sleep. for the rest of the night, she only saw good dreams. 

•

since then, her nightmares were few and far between, thankfully. Makkari adored when Druig read for her. it was intimate and special. no one else’s voice vibrations were as familiar or comforting for her as Druig’s were. reading was one of her favourite things in the world. now it had become something that they could share, and that made her treasure the pastime even more.

but, for Druig, it was so simple. just read. he thought that was the least he could do for her. he’d do anything to make up for their lost time together. but if that’s what comforted her, then that’s what he’d do. if this small gesture was what she loved, he’d read to her forever. 

the spark in his soul from even looking at her, that fluttering in the deepest part of his chest as he felt her fall asleep in his arms to him reading, was irreplaceable. he would read her anything.

[jungxk]

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

x

4 years ago

x

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

x

x

x

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

x

x

x

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

x

x

x

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

x

x

x

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

x

x

x

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed. 

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

[amiechuchu]

do you do requests? :D can i request for a fluffy doctor!reader and loki? i love your mmaatib series btw!

anon!! you're making me BLUSH!!! thank you so much for your support! and sorry if this came out a bit late i was feeling a bit under the weather the past few days. i also apologize for any errors btw! as you can see, i am a very very tired student who just wants her fix of loki too :'). anyways, i hope you enjoy!

Summary: because of y/n’s incessant pestering, loki turns y/n into a cat hoping that it would give him a moment’s peace.

Warnings: none

Catastrophe.

Loki had become accustomed to the smell of disinfectants that linger in the medical wing as his visits became more and more frequent. Although he hated to admit it, he loved the company you were able to provide. Maybe a bit more than the shared solace your safe haven have provided for the both of you. Usually, the low hum of the air-conditioning filled the room’s silence along with the small conversations you and Loki had shared. 

However, today was not one of those usual days. Today, you decided to reverse the roles, where you would be the one getting under Loki’s skin and Loki would be... Loki. Today, you decided that it would be fun to be the most annoying person in the whole Nine Realms. How? By disrupting the peace that graced this room, of course. You started off by imitating the Avengers to which he easily ignored. Then, you began imitating him, speaking of glorious purpose and whatnot, asking him to conjure his prized golden horns for you to use. Though the image that crossed his mind of you wearing his horns was temptingly adorable, his growing annoyance was far greater. Its evidence pointed at his deepening unamused pouty face.

The last straw for Loki was when you thought of imitating a variety of earth’s animals. You chirped, mooed, croaked, barked, and meowed. At that point, despite how much Loki loved hearing your voice, having a moment’s silence sounded so much sweeter to him. So, the God decided to turn you into the last animal you imitated... a cat. With a flick of his wrist, green swirls engulfed your form, and, in just mere seconds, you were transformed into a furry feline. A very cute one nonetheless.

You stood on your hind legs to admire your paws, mesmerized. Loki, on the other hand, looked pleased to see that your awe has taken over your sudden bouts of wanting to annoy him. He could finally read his book in peace, whilst stealing glances at your feline form every now and then to make sure that you don’t get into trouble. 

You took a few steps forward and a few steps back to see how comfortable it was to walk on four legs. It seemed very unnatural to you at first, but you managed. After a few minutes of walking, running, jumping, and exploring the area with your new form, you were confident that you had mastered the basics of feline movement. Without a care in the world, you began to sing Loki a song... in cat... very badly. In which, the lyrics you uttered were literally just meow, meow, meow, and meow on repeat.

“Loki,” you said in attempts to get the God’s attention. To your surprise, a meow still came out. The evident shock in your furry face shown as your irises were  enlarged and your mouth slightly open.

“Cats meow, pet,” Loki snapped at you, eyes still focused on the novel he was reading. “You know, for a mortal who treats people for a living and studies human physiology all their life, you don’t seem very smart. And no, before you even ask, I will not turn you back. ” 

Ignoring his remark, you jumped up to the table where he was situated. This time you kept tapping on his hands. “Hey, listen,” you meowed wanting the God’s undivided attention. “Wait, how can you even understand me?”

Before Loki could answer, the doors to the medical wing were swung open, revealing your boss, the one and only Tony Stark. Great. Immediately, Loki’s face soured upon seeing the man. His face all scrunched up and pouty again. You, on the other hand, pretended to be a good little kitty and lie down on the table, acting all cute and innocent. Tony wouldn’t notice, right? No, he would. But, he wouldn’t care, right? Hopefully.

“Reindeer games, have you seen the, uh, doctor in charge here. They are about this tall, and probably the only person who hangs out here majority of the time?” Tony asked, as he made gestures with his hands trying to picture out your height. He took a few glances at you - the cat - on the table as your tail gracefully wagged to-and-fro. Although a bit confused, he decided not to mind it, thinking that someone - maybe even Loki - adopted the cat and let them in the tower. Not that he really cared at the moment. Currently, the only thing nagging his brain was finding his precious doctor to finish their research agenda. This was the first time you were late and that worried Tony more than he’d like to admit. He wanted to find you before an overprotective uncle Bruce could notice, and, honestly, racing against that time period was too pressuring, even for him.

“I haven’t seen them,” Loki replied, making shooing motions with his hands. A signal that he wanted to be left alone already. The God went back to reading his novel until Tony left to scour the entire building for you, muttering something along the lines of calling Doctor Strange if he couldn't find you at all. He knew that Bruce wouldn’t take it lightly knowing his niece was missing under his watch, so calling out the all-knowing sorcerer became his trump card in case dear old Brucie decided to kick his ass for losing you.

With Tony out of the way, Loki turned his gaze on you.

Actually, on nothing now.

Of course, you had to disappear for real this time.

An exasperated sigh came out of his mouth as he realized you ran away from him. It wasn’t long until the same sense of worry Tony had came over the God. Realizing his current situation, an anxious laugh managed to come out of his mouth. Look at him, Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief, a literal deity, worried about the doctor who he turned into a cat.

At this point, panicked thoughts began to rival his own logical ones.

What if someone else had picked you up? You were in a form of a feline inside a facility that clearly doesn’t deal with any animals. It wouldn't be a surprise if someone took you. Undoing the magic with this situation in mind wouldn't bring as much trouble, right?

Loki thought of undoing the magic, but another thought popped into his head before making the decision. What if you were hidden in some cramped space just waiting for him to find you? He feared that undoing it while you were in hiding might be detrimental to your own safety. As much as you annoyed him, Loki wouldn’t want to see his favorite little physician hurt in any way. 

Upon weighing all the pros and cons of the situation they were in, Loki decided to look for you the old fashioned way: by himself. Magic would be useless in this situation. Knowing you, any form of telepathic communication Loki made would just be ignored. Though he loved playing all types of games with you, this one only stressed him out. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and thought of the different places he would hide if he were you. 

The God observed his surroundings as he decided to look for you inside the medical wing first. With you in feline form, you wouldn't have the strength to push open the doors, so he deduced that you wouldn't have gotten too far. Maybe you were under the beds, hidden in the shadows. Or even at the top of the shelves, away from plain sight. He began pacing through the whitewashed rooms, looking for more clues to narrow down the possible hiding places. Upon reaching halfway through the wing, Loki noted how the afternoon sun shone brightly, through the wide glass windows especially there at the far end of the room. Coincidentally, at the same area, he also spotted a seemingly occupied hospital bed with its curtains pulled all the way. The God took a few more steps as his brain continued to wire all the information together. Finally, it dawned on him. 

That was perfect place for a catnap.

Loki crept towards the bed's entrance, careful not to make any sounds to alarm you. Anxiously, he peered through the curtains, mentally cursing himself for the crinkling sound it made. Gods, how he prayed to find you there waiting for him. Taking a deep breath, he made his way inside the secluded area to find... you basking under the sun in feline form, all curled up and asleep. Thank the Norns.

Your rhythmic purring quietly resonated throughout the area. A smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, relieved to have found you. Although he was jealous of the fact that the entire time you were just fast asleep, while he had to go through such an ordeal. And so, Loki climbed on top of the bed in the most quiet way possible. Although he was slightly unsure of his actions, he did it anyway. No one else was there, no one else would know. So, there he lay beside you, comfortable with a novel in hand.

It was not long until all the adrenaline in his system died down, and Loki too needed a nap of his own. He stifled a yawn, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber. As time passed, the God slowly drifted to sleep, and the magic that held your form was undone. Now, there you lay beside him, adorned by the golden afternoon sun. 

Still in deep sleep, you shifted your position, attracted to the warmth the God had brought with him. Realizing the change in position, Loki, as if by reflex, took his arm and put it around the small of your waist in attempts to keep you from falling off the edge, to keep you close. His head nudged yours lightly, and there he stared, captivated, at your sleeping form. There he realized how much he really cared for you despite how much of a handful you can be sometimes. It just felt right for him to have you pressed into his chest, to have his arm around you, to have you right there by his side. 

It just felt right for him to have you. 

“Sleep well, my mischievous little doctor,” the God said as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before finally dozing off.

As the two of you blissfully slept, basking under the afternoon sun, somewhere around the tower there was a very angry Tony Stark, looking for the missing doctor. That didn't matter at all to Loki. The only thing that mattered to him then and there was you by his side, safe and sound.

It was enough for him that today didn't end in a catastrophe.

Taglist: @gaycatlord-stuff 

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 133

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,000ish

Summary: Tony finally comes home, but that doesn’t make the problems go away. (Please read the note at the end)

Y/N completely unconscious for a whole 24 hours. The remaining team members never wandered far from her side, too scared to lose another person. When Y/N finally awoke, she knew what had happened. She could feel the change inside her.

“They’re gone…” She croaked, looking at Steve with teary eyes. “The Stones are gone…”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” Steve questioned. “Like you don’t have your powers anymore?”

“I mean, they’re gone.”

“Y/N, I think you’re tired,” Thor said. “If your abilities have left you, then you must be exhausted.”

“No. You have to believe me.”

“Okay,” Bruce interrupted. “I think we need to leave her to rest some more.”

Y/N knew that they didn’t believe her. But she could feel it. The Infinity Stones had been destroyed. Her abilities were gone.

~~~

Y/N was alone in the med-bay when the building began trembling ever so slightly. Concerned as it continued, slowly getting worse, Y/N slid out of bed. The others were not too far in front of her as they all quickly headed out to the yard. Looking up as they all continued to walk, they noticed a ship being carried by a glowing Carol. She carefully landed the space craft, looking at a new shaven Steve with a nod. 

Y/N froze, heart pounding wildly in her chest as the stairs of the space craft lowered. Tony, being supported by Nebula, walked out. She couldn’t stop the tears that began to cascade down her cheeks. Tony was alive. Yes, it was clear that he was barely alive, but there he was.

Steve ran up to Tony, taking him from Nebula to help him stand. Tony gripped Steve’s arm as he joined him.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Tony told Steve.

“Neither could I,” Steve responded.

“I lost the kid.”

“Tony, we lost.”

“Is, uh…? Y/N…”

“I’m right here,” Y/N said, running up and embracing him.

Tony practically melted into her arms, kissing her head and Y/N cried. “It’s okay.”

“You’re alive…”

“You’re alive.”

Y/N and Steve helped Tony inside. Bruce immediately got an IV in him and told him that he needed serious rest and food. While Tony sat at the table, his insisted on knowing everything. So the team began explain as a holographic casualty report listed the names and faces of those they lost.

“It's been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth,” Rhodey stated.

“World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working are trying to take a census,” Natasha explained. “And it looks like he did... he did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures.”

“Where is he now?” Tony asked. “Where?” Y/N, who was standing behind Tony’s wheelchair, gave his shoulder a slight squeeze.

“We don’t know,” Steve answered. “He just opened a portal and walked through.”

Tony looked over at a sullen-looking Thor, who as sitting outside on a bench. “What’s wrong with him?” Tony pointed.

“Oh, he's pissed. He thinks he failed,” Rocket responded. “Which of course he did, but you know there's a lot of that's going around, ain't there?”

“Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.”

“Maybe I am.”

“We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep Space scans, and satellites, Y/N was even searching Titan over and over, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him.”

“Who told you that? I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the Stone. That's what happened. There was no fight.”

“Okay.”

“He’s unbeatable.”

“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?”

“Steve—“ Y/N called, waiting to stop this before it got too bad.

“Pfft! I saw this coming a few years back,” Tony continued. "I had a vision. I didn't wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming. So did Y/N, ya know? She saw this coming too.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus,” Steve pressed.

“And I needed you. She,” Tony pointed back at Y/N, “needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late buddy. Sorry. You know what I need?” Tony stood, pushing things off the table. “I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling you—“ Tony went for Steve, only for Rhodey to try to stop him.

“Tony, Tony, Tony!” Rhodey said. 

“Tony!” Y/N added, though she knew it was no use.

“Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world!” Tony continued, taking his IV out. “Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not— that's what we needed!”

“Well, that didn't work out, did it?” Steve retorted.

“I said, "we'd lose". You said, "We'll do that together too." And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers, we're the Avengers. Not the Prevengers.”

“Okay,” Rhodey said, trying to get Tony back into the wheelchair with Y/N’s help.

“Right?”

“You made your point,” Y/N said. “Just sit down.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

“Nah, nah. Here’s my point. You know what?”

“Tony, you’re sick,” Rhodey said, finally able to guide him back to the wheelchair.

Tony pointed to Carol. “She’s great, by the way.”

“Sit down. Sit.” 

Tony finally gave in. We need you. You're new blood. Bunch of tired old mules!” Tony sprang back up and walked right up to Steve’s face, voice dripping with venom. “I got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.”

It was clear that Steve was affected by Tony’s words. The old friends just gazed at each other in tense silence. After a moment, Tony ripped his arc reactor from his chest and shoved it into Steve’s hand.

“Here, take this,” Tony said. “You find him, and you put that on. You hide.”

Tony fell to the ground. Y/N was by his side instantly.

“Tony!” Steve exclaimed.

“I’m fine,” Tony slurred. “I… Let me...” He quickly fell into an unconscious heap on Y/N’s lap.

“You shouldn’t have pushed him,” Y/N whispered harshly at Steve. “But that’s what you do, right? To get what you want?”

“Y/N—“

“No, Steve. Just, no. Tony’s always been blamed for everything. Always. But, you know what, you’re not perfect either and are to blame for a lot as well.”

“I never said—“

“I don’t want to hear it, Steve. Not anymore.”

~~~

Tony was brought into a private glass room, where Bruce was getting him situated. Y/N was seated by his side, while Rhodey stood by the door.

“I gave him a sedative,” Bruce informed them. “He will most likely be out for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you, Bruce,” Y/N exhaled shakily. 

“Of course. I’m going to run a few more tests and give him some more meds.” Y/N nodded, staring at Tony.

“Y/N,” Rhodey called for her attention. She glanced over at him. “I need to know… would you have chosen Tony in the end?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Rhodey… the choice was made for me…”

“I just don’t want him hurt.”

“I won’t. Trust me.” Y/N rubbed her fingers over Tony’s hand. “I love him. And… he’s all I have left.”

~~~

Rhodey walked out to inform the others about Tony’s condition.

“Bruce gave him a sedative,” he told them. “He's gonna probably be out for the rest of the day.”

“You guys take care of him,” Carol said. “And I'll bring him a Xorrian Elixir when I come back.” She walked away.

“Where are you going?” Natasha asked.

“To kill Thanos.”

Steve and Natasha shared a look before quickly walking after her.

“Hey,” Natasha called after her, “you know, we usually work as a team here, and between you and I, morale's a little fragile.”

“We realize up there is more your territory,” Steve added, “but this is our fight too.”

“You even know where he is?” Rhodey questioned.

“I know people who might,” Carol responded.

“Don’t bother,” Nebula said, standing behind Carol. “I can tell you where Thanos is. Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. And when he worked, he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I'd ask "where would we go once his plan was complete?". His answer was always the same: "To the Garden.”” 

“That's cute, Thanos has a retirement plan,” Rhodey commented.

“So where is he?” Steve asked.

They grabbed Bruce and gathered in the common room. Rocket stood on the table with a hologram of a planet.

“When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions,” Rocket explained. “No one's ever seen anything like it... Until two days ago.” A shockwave visibly traversed over the planet in the hologram. “On this planet.”

“Thanos is there,” Nebula confirmed.

“He used the Stones again,” Natasha stated. She looked at Steve. “That’s what happened with Y/N. She was feeling the Stones. We have a chance, we could—“

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bruce interrupted. “We'd be going in short-handed, you know.”

“Look, he's still got the stones,” Rhodey said. “So—“

“So let’s get him,” Carol stated. “Use them to bring everyone back.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that.”

“Even if there's a small chance that we can undo this…" Natasha said. “I mean we owe it to everyone who's not in this room to try.”

“If we do this, how do we know it's gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce wondered. “And how do we know that Y/N’s not right? That the Stones are destroyed.”

“She can’t be right,” Steve stated. “Not until I see it with my own eyes.”

“And this will be different because last time, you didn’t have me,” Carol stated.

“Hey, new girl, everyone here is about that superhero life,” Rhodey said. “And if you don't mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?”

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn't have you guys.”

Thor, who had been eating in the back all this time, stood up and walked over to Carol. She looked behind at him. Holding his hand up, Thor summoned his ax. He caught it as it flew over to him, missing Carol by inches. But Carol didn’t even flinch, instead giving Thor a small smile.

“I like this one,” Thor smiled.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” Steve ordered.

~~~

Y/N was sitting beside a still unconscious Tony, reading, when Steve slipped into the room.

“How’s he doing?” Steve asked, awkwardly staying near the door.

“Fine,” Y/N responded, not bothering to look up from her book.

“Look, Y/N, I…” He sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then go.”

“The team knows where Thanos is.” This got Y/N to look up at Steve. “We’re going to go get the Stones back and reverse this.”

“I told you, Steve, the Stones are gone.”

“You don’t know tha—“

“Oh, I don’t? I just wasn’t, I don’t know, connected to them for years? But go ahead. Try and fix this. But I’m telling you it’s too late.”

“Don’t you want to try and get everyone back? Get Bucky back?”

She paused, searching her mind for how to answer. She knew Steve wouldn’t believe her if she told him that she had seen the future. The battle wasn’t over.

“Things happen for a reason,” she replied. “We have to accept it—“

“Unbelievable,” Steve scoffed. “I can’t even—who are you?”

“I could ask you the same question, Steve.” He clenched his jaw. “We are not the same people we were before we froze, Steve. And I don’t know if we’ll ever go back to that.”

“I’ll let you know when we’re home.” 

~~~

When Tony woke up, he was all alone. He was groggy from all the drugs, but he knew he was back at the compound. Looking around the room, he saw Y/N coming towards the room with a tray of food. Her eyes lit up ever so slightly when she met his opened ones.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Y/N greeted with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a moon landed on top of me,” he responded, voice raspy. “Oh, wait. It did.” He grunted as he sat up more.

“I brought some food.” She set the try on a table in the room. “I didn’t know what you’d be feeling like, so I got a little bit of everything.”

Tony carefully watched as Y/N got his food ready. Knowing her for so long, he knew when something was up.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Y/N sighed, knowing she couldn’t keep anything from him. “The Stones are gone.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, they’re destroyed. I don’t have my powers anymore. The team also found Thanos, they went to try to reverse what happened.”

“But the Stones are destroyed.”

“They don’t believe me.” 

“What? Why? You’re connected with the Stones.”

“I know… they still didn’t.”

Tony could see how everything that had transpired was weighing down on Y/N, whether she admitted it or not. “We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We can’t stay here. We need to move on. Start our live together.”

“We can’t just leave.”

“We can’t? Why?”

“Well, they… I… I don’t know.”

“Exactly why we need to go. I’ve already got a secluded piece of land with a small lake on it. We can build a house there. Try to find some normalcy.” Y/N looked out the window, biting her lip. “I can see the weight you’re carrying about all this… it’s not solely your fault. Don’t take all of it on yourself.” He reached out his thin, trembling hand. “Let me bare it with you.”

With a teary nod, Y/N set her hand in Tony’s. He tried to pull her towards him. She sat beside him on the bed, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“I love you, Tony,” she whispered.

“I love you too.” 

~~~

By the time the team came back, Tony and Y/N had already put together a house plan. The team came back with the news that Thanos was dead and the Stones were gone, not to Y/N or Tony’s surprise. The two left the compound to Tony’s apartment in the city that night.

They were both extremely sadden by how destroyed and seemly empty the city was. The first night was harder for Y/N than it was for Tony. Due to still being malnourished, Tony spent a lot of time sleeping. Y/N was the opposite, not getting much sleep at all. She was haunted by what happened in her dreams and too scared that if she closed her eyes, Tony would disappear. 

It was dusk, when Tony woke up from a nap. Usually, Y/N would lay beside him or still be somewhere in the room. But this time, he couldn’t see her anywhere. He pushed himself up to get a better look at the room.

“Y/N?” He questioned. “Honey? Where are you?”

No response. With a grunt he stood up, grabbed his cane, and headed out of the bedroom. He kept calling out her name.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

He stopped when he thought he heard something. And he was right. He heard sobs that were clearly trying to be concealed. Hurrying as fast as he could, Tony turned the corner, he heart shattering further than he thought it could at the sight. Y/N was on her knees, in the middle of the living room. Her hands were pressing a blanket to her mouth, trying to conceal her retching sobs. Who knows how long she had been like that, but the blanket was drenched in tears.

“Oh, honey,” Tony hurried over, getting down next to her. He pulled her into him, but she fought it. “Don’t fight me, hun. Please.”

“I’m so-sorry, Tony,” Y/N sobbed. “Please just go… I’ll be fine…”

“It’s clear that you’re not.” Tony pulled her back in, not caring that she was fighting. “You’re carrying too much on your own. Like I said before, let me bare this with you…”

“I-I can’t… cause it’s my fault… if I had tried any harder or pushed myself—“

“Until what? You died? You know that I wouldn’t have been able to handle your— I-I can’t even think about it.”

“It’s just… it’s so hard, Tony… it hurts so much… I watched them dust right before my eyes… the power I was given to stop this, failed me and now it’s gone… I’m—I’m useless.”

Tony’s frail hands took Y/N’s face firmly in his hands. “You are not nor ever will be useless. Especially not to me.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony… I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay…” 

He placed a soft kiss on her lips before going in for other, more hungrily. Y/N welcomed it, letting him have entrance into her mouth. When they finally separated, panting, Y/N and Tony locked eyes.

“Help me, Tony,” she whimpered. “Please… take this feeling away…”

Tony nodded before pressing his lips firmly against hers. Y/N guided herself so that she was laying down as Tony hovered over her, pressing kisses down her neck.

“I will always help you,” he whispered against her lips. “Always.”

It was a beautiful, long awaited night of love and passion. Both of them were beginning to feel whole again, completed, in each others holds. Healing was starting to take place because, as long as they had each other, everything was going to be alright.

next chapter >

My dearest Team Bucky, many of you have been so patient throughout this whole series and I ask you to continue to do so. I have a surprise coming your way (and to Team Tony’s). Thank you for your support and please keep reading.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[ghostly-penumbra]

Ectober Week 2021. Day Four

“Insects”

Summary: Team Phantom watch the butterflies. Shameless butterfly propaganda ahead, baby!

Warning for a (non-threatening) swarm of insects.

Ao3 FFN

- - -

“So, if you put this command inside this other one, you gotta make sure to close it inside the one you put first, otherwise it won’t stick. You guys get it?” Tucker asked as he coded away on Sam’s PC.

“Oh, yeah.”

“It makes sense now…”

Tucker checked his friends’ notes, satisfied to see they had actually paid attention. “Good.” He said, smiling. “BECAUSE I WILL NOT EXPLAIN IT AGAIN!”

“Jeez, alright!” Danny said, holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

“We get it! No need to shout!” Sam added, covering her ears with her hands.

“Thank you.” Tuck said with a sweet smile. He stood up with a groan and popped his backbone. “Now, while you noobs practice some more, I’ll stretch my legs.”

Sam, who was about to beat Danny in winning the Pc with ‘dis mine’ (which easily trumped over any call on ‘dibs!’, by the way) stopped short to call out, “Wait, no! Don’t go to the balcony, you will scare the butterflies away.”

Tucker turned back towards her, while Danny happily hogged the computer, and then looked at the balcony. “There are no butterflies in there.”

“Exactly! It’s already hard enough for them to approach in a residential area away from the park or the lake, to have you being all human-sized in their drive-thru!” She explained, waving her arms towards the many plants filling that space.

“Their drive-thru?” Danny asked, showing he had been paying attention to them.

Sam sighed, the starting signal of an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian speech incoming. “It’s milkweed, the only thing monarch butterflies, an endangered species, feed on. If some of them wander around here, I want them to have something to snack on.” She explained.

“So that explains all the cutsie pretty flowers…” Tucker said with dawning understanding. “Alright then.”

- - -

With a bout of good luck that surprised everyone present, Team Phantom got to see the butterflies, as they arrived later that day, while they chilled post-studying via DOOM.

“Hey, are those…?” Dany asked in a low voice, nudging Sam with his shoulder in the middle of her obliterating Tucker on the screen.

She turned to see while blindly pressing a combo, winning the match.

“Yes, they are!” She stage-whispered, watching as the little insects settled on their gifts. More started to arrive in small groups, but constantly, and then there was a whole bivouac of them on her balcony. “Holy shit! I didn’t think so many would come here!” She said barely in a whisper.

Her friends, who were not as focused on their game as they would like, found it amusing to see their goth friend so excited for something whose primary colour was not black. (They DID have black, though, and white, (the new black), but the little buggers were mostly orange.)

“Holy fuck, they are coming in!” Said goth exclaimed.

And they were indeed approaching warily and looking around while the teens froze in place. And Danny finally noticed it.

“Uh… Sam, are these supposed to be carrying a small, human spirit with them?” He asked, squinting his eyes to try and perceive any feature on said spirits other than the fact they had been human when they were alive.

“What? No, I… don’t think so. What?” Asked the dumbfounded vegan.

Before any of them could say anything else, the butterflies approached, surrounding them. Somehow, they gave off the impression of being curious.

“Are they… attacking us?” Tucker asked, even if he didn’t believe it himself, because someone had to remind them that most ghosts that came after them weren’t often the friendliest.

“No, they are not.” Danny said distractedly, but sure.

A butterfly settled down on Danny’s forehead, opening and closing its wings slowly.

“Uh…”

Another one followed, and another one, and yet another one, until they had formed a living crown on Danny’s head.

“Um, I have a question,” he said, “what the heck?”

- - -

Here I come with my monarch butterfly propaganda!

The monarch butterfly is an amazing, kick-ass species of butterfly that makes a journey all the way from México up to freaking Canada in four generations!

In pre-hispanic times, they were said to transport the souls of the deceased that came for Día de Muertos. Unlike now, Día de Muertos was festivity that took place across different dates, but when the Christians (*cough* Spaniards *cough*) came, the one date that stuck was the one in Autumn, which is around the time where monarch butterflies return to México seeking warm weather.

Monarch butterflies as well as caterpillars do only feed on milkweed, so here’s a guide on how to plant it for them if you have the resources.

Since I headcanon Amity Park to be in Illinois, I did my research and yes, monarch butterflies travel through Illinois! So here is some info I found, mostly about Chicago.

Some info from Canada!

México (in Spanish)!

y algo serio, para que nunca olvidemos (tw muerte)

[sunjaesol]

For the prompts : Juke 4 & 17 💜🌟

KISS PROMPTS (closed) 4 + 17. An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose + Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin

(college au... this was such a treat to write oh my god)

Watching Julie Molina battle the New York wintertime was absolutely hilarious. 

When Luke met the girl at the start of freshman year at NYU, he instantly knew she wasn’t from the east coast. The accent, the attitude, the lack of gloves on her hands by November. She was stubborn about it too, claiming that the weather should bend to her, not the other way. 

It was a joke, obviously, but it didn’t make it less funny. 

She’d be pouting and huffing and wearing a comical amount of sweaters on top and no puffer jacket was big enough to ward off the cold. Not even those curls of her were an insulator. 

(And he knew her hair was thick and warm, because he once held it back at a frat party when she was puking her guts out after one too many tequila shots.) 

They were walking through Washington Square Park, Luke contently sipping on his coffee as Julie was shivering beside him. They had a small break in between classes and he had convinced her to spend that time outside. 

One, cause Luke liked the cold. 

Two, cause… yeah, he’s had a big, fat crush on her ever since they properly met.

They both resided in Goddard Hall back then. Luke had been bored to death, aimlessly wandering the halls, when he followed the sound of a keyboard. That was how he found her. With her back towards him, she hummed along to her expert piano playing as she stared out the window with that gentle smile of hers.

Sure, he’d seen her at lectures, thinking she was cute, but he hadn’t spoken to her. Standing in the threshold and witnessing the way she embodied music felt like the world suddenly tilted off its axis. It hadn’t felt normal ever since, if he was being honest. Julie kind of took him aback without even trying. 

She quickly got over the fact he essentially scared her to death by flying into an impromptu flurry of compliments, and easily befriended him. Maybe because they were both freshmen and needed someone, maybe because it was fucking fate. Whatever. 

That accelerated thud of his heart burst into flames the second they sang together two weeks later for a class. Luke had a very simple outlook on life. If someone tapped into that innate passion for music in ways he hadn’t considered before, he was a goner. Julie did. And it hadn’t tempered in the slightest. 

Being best friends with her was great, but he’d lie if he said he hadn’t been in his feelings when she got with Nick for a couple of months, or when she flirted with guys at parties. 

Alex told him to just rip the band-aid off and tell her, but he’d rather stay friends forever - stand in her sunlight a little longer - than lose her over something as stupid as feelings. 

Julie groaned. “It’s so cold!”

“You don’t get tired of saying that?” he teased, bumping their shoulders. 

“No.” A smile pulled on her lips. “You keep reacting to it, so…”

“I asked if you also wanted a coffee and you said no.”

Her pout intensified as she rubbed her gloveless hands together. January in NYC was brutal, yet she refused to commit to the lifestyle. He bought her gloves last Christmas and she wore them once to appease him; they were probably stuffed in the back of her closet now. 

“Because campus coffee sucks,” she argued. 

Humming, he shrugged and took another sip. “Fair.” And then- “You could’ve stayed inside.”

It was the wrong thing to say, as her confused reply got his heart skipping a beat. “But you were going outside.”

He felt it again. That energy crackling between them whenever they said something a little too intimate - a little too real - and he couldn’t do anything about it without making it weird. There was this whole thing about not wanting to appear as some pathetic dude who was ‘waiting’ on her (even though he kind of was… yikes) or making a move cause he could. ‘Cause she was there.’ 

If he were to ever act on his feelings, he’d want her to know they were coming from a genuine place, not because he was a desperate asshole. 

His arm twitched to curl around her shoulders. To tuck her in his side, warm her up, let his hot breath ghost the exposed skin. Maybe pulling her in his lap on the bench, allowing his gloved hands to rub life back in her legs. Maybe-

Argh. Luke was driving himself insane. Not overthinking it any longer, he threw the arm that brushed hers around her and squeezed her shoulder. Boom. There. Fucking easy and normal. 

Her smile widened, his frustration instantly melting away at the sight and smiling back. 

“Thanks,” she uttered. “You’re like an oven.”

He smirked. “Cause I’m smoking hot.”

She rolled her eyes, though her expression stayed put. “Sure.”

“That smile ain’t changing, Jules,” he drawled, playful. “You know it’s true.”

Her hand clutched onto the back of his jacket, the action almost making him fumble over his words. He knew how they’d look to outsiders now and hoped she wouldn’t catch onto that. The way she was looking up, the way he was gazing down with stupidly tender eyes, the coffee dangling precariously in his hand as if he’d drop it in a snap to cup her cheek instead.      

(He probably would. Fuck campus coffee.) 

Her other hand looped across his stomach tucked herself closer, their strut slowing down. Giggling at their odd position, Luke knew his resolve would be gone if she didn’t pull away soon. That burning tug in his chest urging him to the edge of the cliff. 

“I feel used,” he joked.  

“By me,” she pointed out. “There’s a difference.”

This made him stop entirely. “There is?”

“Yeah, it’s because…” she trailed off, suddenly shy. 

His head ducked to meet her eyes with mischief in his tone. “Because?”

He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve here. What the fuck was he doing? The difference was that they were best fucking friends and she knew he didn’t mind close contact. Using humour to veil his flirtatious intent wasn’t going to change that.   

She sighed and abruptly moved her face. “Because-”

And then her lips touched his. 

They gasped, instantly pulling back to gawk at each other in surprise. Holy shit. Holy shit. It was just a mishap, it was just a mistake, he couldn’t think-

“-that,” she finished lamely, words barely coming out. Her eyes were wide and earnest. “Because of that.”

It was enough for him. 

Luke dropped his coffee, slid his warm hand on her jaw and coaxed her back. A shot of adrenaline shot through him as her lips slanted across his, hungry and eager. They were only one second in and it was already so fucking intoxicating. His eyes were screwed shut, overwhelmed from bliss rippling his skin and the way she sighed and deepened each new touch. 

He wouldn’t need coffee anymore if he got to kiss her like that every day. 

Sinking in his knees to be closer, his lips puckered into a dopey grin. In an hour or two, he’d go insane over how soft her lips were, how amazing of a kisser she was, how it trumped any of his fantasies - now, all he could think of was how fucking lucky he was. 

A shock of cold hit him, her hands sneakily having found their way under his jacket and sweater and now pressing against his sides. 

He groaned against her mouth. “Jules, your hands.”

She giggled, so dazed it could kill him on the spot. “I know. We now share my pain.”

“Sounds good to me,” he mumbled, going back for more. 

“Yeah?” Her hopeful tone got him looking at her, her shiny brown eyes and fond smile a one way ticket to falling in love with her in seconds. Maybe he’d been for a while. It didn’t matter.

They were here now. 

Gently plucking one of her hands and kissing the knuckles, he shot her a dazzling smile. “Yeah… but I’m gonna find those gloves I bought for you though. You will get hypothermia otherwise.”  

[manianart]

Unlikely Allience pt1

Months.

It had been months now since Sheriff had joined the Nexus project and it only took him a week of that to regret his decision. Phobos and Auditor turned out to be real and true psychopaths. They didn’t care to make everything better or to turn reality back to normal.

No. They only cared for power.

Sheriff rubbed a hand down his face. It had been days since the last time he had gotten anything even resembling sleep. His last interaction with Phobos had robbed him of the ability to fall asleep. He had lost a locator chip for one of their deliveries to one of the rebels. And he had paid for it.

Rubbing at his stomach he winced as some of the cuts from that interactions still gave off a sore sting. The door on his “office”, which was honestly more of a broom closet than a true office given to him by Auditor to keep him out of the way, suddenly slammed open, making him jump slightly. Phobos stepped inside, his face scrunched up in anger as always as he glared at Sheriff.

Ph: “You! We got work for you. Come!”

Sheriff held onto his chest, his heart racing at the sudden loud noise, before nodding and rushing after the other man, who had already left. They walked towards the facilities interrogation cells.

Strange.

Those hadn’t been used in a long while. Whenever they found a rebel in the city they usually just shot them. They had tried to interrogate them when they first captured them but they all said the same thing, nothing interesting or important, so at some point they just started to shoot them.

Two guards were waiting outside one of the cells. The doors to the cells were reinforced and thick as a grown mans forearm. Who were they keeping in that room that needed two additional guards?

His questions were clearly showing on his face apparently as Phobos answered them by simply opening the door.

Hank.

Hank J. Wimbleton was sitting at the table in that cell, bound to the chair he had been placed on. Sheriff felt a shiver run down his spine at the sight of the other man. A growl made Sheriff tense up and look next to him.

Phobos was looking even angrier now, glaring at Hank before sharply turning his head towards the Sheriff.

Ph: “Normally I’d never give you this job, you are far too incompetent to do this right, but I have no other choice right now! I have to finish an important mission so I can’t do it myself. Just ask him the questions on the paper I left you and DON’T fuck it up, got that?!”

Sheriff flinched a bit at the last sentence, nodding quickly. Phobos huffed out hard, glaring at the other a moment longer before nodding and heading off, taking the guards with him. Sheriff looked after them, worried. Phobos was almost up the stairs, the cells being in the basement, when he sharply turned once more.

Ph: “The alarm is on. No guards needed now.” “You’re disposable” is what Sheriff got from that sentence. He wanted to yell back, anger rising, but as soon as it started to rise Phobos had turned, walked the last few steps back up the stairs and was out of sight.

Sheriffs shoulders slumped again, seeing that he had missed his opportunity. Carefully looking over to where Hank sat he flinched as he met the others stare. Hank was glaring at him, his anger and venom even trumping Phobos. Sheriff started to shiver before quickly looking away towards the table. There it was, the piece of paper Phobos had put some questions on for Sheriff to read out. Uneasiness still making his motions stiff and machine-like he sat down opposite Hank, trying desperately to ignore the others menacing glare stuck on him. He swallowed a few times trying to regain his voice but soon he just sighed, accepting that this wouldn’t be easy.

Slowly looking up he swallowed one more time before starting the questioning.

Half an hour later and it was clear that Hank wasn’t going to answer him, having kept silent with a dead glare the whole time Sheriff asked the questions given to him. Sheriff sighed, his heart really not in it anymore by now. He was tired. Tired and hurting and so so done with this all. Looking up for the first time in 15 minutes he met Hanks eyes. Hanks glare had dulled down to an angry but bored expression. Sheriff must’ve looked pretty damn terrible because he saw the other mans expression shift ever so slightly as he looked up. Why was he even still doing this? This was ridiculous. His heart wasn’t in it anymore and he knew it. He just wanted out. But he knew that his only escape would be death and he really didn’t want to end his own life like that. He wasn’t ready to do that...he was a coward.

An idea suddenly made Sheriff perk up a bit. Hank. He could use Hank for that. Not just to end his own suffering but Hank did want to stop the Nexus project so if he set him free he’d not only help himself but all the other people caught up in this shit.

Sheriff got up fast, nearly tipping over his chair and even getting a questioning look from Hank. Good. On camera it would look like he was just too frustrated to continue. Just to be sure Sheriff mumbled a small “eff this” before leaving the room as fast as he could, slamming the door just for theatrical emphasis.

Once outside he looked around the corridor. No more cameras, great! Rushing over to the room where the recording control panels and the alarm controls were stored he quickly disabled everything. Video, audio and alarm all turned off to really ensure Hank had enough time to get out of the basement. With that done Sheriff swallowed down some of his anxiety about the next part. He slowly got up again, having leaned down over the panels he was now straightening himself out again until he stood tall once more. Or well, as tall as someone could stand that was facing his certain death. Slowly he made his way back over to the interrogation room, a small knife in his hand that he had kept hidden inside his jacket just in case. Once there he opened the door and stepped inside quickly, closing the door behind himself so if any Grunts came by they wouldn’t be interrupted. H: “You done just asking hmh? But if you want to torture infromation out of me that knife is too small.” Sheriff flinched at the others voice but didn’t really pay any mind to the words that were being said.

He was too focused on his task at hand. Slowly walking over to Hank he made sure the other couldn’t reach out to him too fast. He at least wanted to explain what he was doing.

Sh: “I’ll cut you loose now.”

H: “WHAT?!” Sh: “With Phobos gone you’ll be able to get out of the building almost effortlessly. Just head up and then left and you’ll be pretty much out already. You can use my key card for the door. I turned off all video and audio recordings around and the alarm is off too. Just… once you are cut loose...make it quick, okay? Please don’t let it hurt too bad when you…” Sheriff swallowed hard.

Sh: “When you knock me out. I know I’m a coward for asking this of you but...please.” Sheriff exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding before slowly approaching Hank and starting to cut him loose. First the legs then the arms and then the torso. Once his work was done he just let himself fall to his knees, the knife he had been using clattering to the floor and sliding away from him.

It was done. No turning back now.

Hank stood tall, looming over him for a few moments.

H: “Why?”

Sh: “... guess I just realized that these guys really aren’t the people I want to be affiliated with.” Hank nodded.

Sh: “Make it quick, okay?”

H: “Chair.”

Sheriff furrowed his brows. 

Did he just misshear the other? Did Hank say fair and had his mask just muffled his words. Before Sheriff could even fully turn towards the other to ask he felt something hit his head full force and his world went black.

--Hanks POV of all this--

He had cursed himself when he had gotten caught but better him than the others. He could withstand a lot more and he was sure he’d be able to break free at some point eventually.

Once they had brought him to a cell and bound him to a chair that hope had somewhat waned but he hadn’t given his worries away.

Phobos, the one eyed freak, had laughed at him and promised all sorts of ways he’d torture the answers to his questions out of him but in the middle of his rambling he had gotten a message and his twisted smile turned into a scowl to filled with anger it reminded Hank of the time someone tried to take away 2Bs laptop.

He had to snort at the thought of what 2B had done to the person making Phobos turn towards him, almost foaming from his mouth. More yelling but this time anger was the cause. Hank just looked uninterested at that point. Phobos wanted to yell more but got a second message. Hank smiled as the other man left the room, his walking speed indicating his anger. He had hoped he’d get some time to think about how to break out but only 15 minutes later Phobos reappeared at the door.

Hank shot him an angry glare and noticed that he wasn’t alone. The Sheriff was with him. Hank shot a death glare towards the cowardly Sheriff, knowing that the man would flinch and start to show signs of fear. Hank reveled in that fact, being able to strike fear into a man even when he was bound and unable to fight and or kill.

He heard Phobos bark orders towards the Sheriff, making the man flinch again before rushing off. Sheriff looked after the other for a while before sighing and walking over to a chair to sit across from Hank, picking up a piece of paper on a clip board and starting to read out questions.

When did that get there? Oh well, whatever. Hank just kept glaring at the other, completely blanking out his voice.

It must’ve been about half an hour before the other man started to slow and eventually stop his questions all together. Hank saw him deflate as he looked up for the first time in a while to meet his eyes. He looked tired. Tired and...sad? Hank felt his facade fall for a second, feeling almost bad for the other man for some unknown reason.

A minute or two passed before the other man suddenly jumped up from his chair with an “eff this” muttered under his breath. Sheriff stormed out the door, leaving Hank to ponder what the man would do when Phobos found out that he had gotten not a single answer out of him. Sheriff and Phobos didn’t seem to be getting along all that well. Hank wasn’t surprised. The Sheriff was a coward.

Hank had started to think about his escape again when the door was opened again. The Sheriff stood in the door for a moment, a knife in his hand.

H: ““You done just asking hmh? But if you want to torture infromation out of me that knife is too small.”

Hank wanted the other to leave again to get better equipment. Partially to get him away to have time to think and partially because Hank felt kind of insulted by that ditzy little knife. Seriously, what did the Sheriff think Hank could withstand?

Sheriff started slowly walking over to Hank, making sure Hank couldn’t reach out to him.

Sh: “I’ll cut you loose now.”

Hank blinked.

H: “WHAT?!” Sh: “With Phobos gone you’ll be able to get out of the building almost effortlessly. Just head up and then left and you’ll be pretty much out already. You can use my key card for the door. I turned off all video and audio recordings around and the alarm is off too. Just… once you are cut loose...make it quick, okay? Please don’t let it hurt too bad when you…”

Sheriff paused, seeming to swallow a lump in his throat.

Sh: “When you knock me out. I know I’m a coward for asking this of you but...please.”

Right after that request the Sheriff got to work, slicing through Hanks restraints with the small knife. It only took seconds before Hank could stand up. The first thing he did was stretch, his back popping a few times as he did.

He turned to the other man, who was kneeling on the floor now, looking terribly small.

H: “Why?”

Sh: “... guess I just realized that these guys really aren’t the people I want to be affiliated with.” Hank nodded.

Sh: “Make it quick, okay?”

Hank gave that a thought. The Sheriff seemed to really be at the end of his wits but...it felt wrong to kill the man now.

H: “Chair.”

Hank grabbed a hold of the chair he had just been bound to seconds before, seeing it was a foldable chair. Walking up to the Sheriff he reeled back and hit the man with the chair, knocking him out cold and leaving him unconscious before he even hit the floor.

What now?

Hank leaned over the Sheriff, grabbing the knife and putting it in his pocket just in case. Looking at the man before him he felt a pang of...something. Did he really want to kill this man? It doesn’t seem like he was even worth killing anymore now. Then again, leaving him here would definitely get him killed either way. Hank gave a long groan, rubbing the bridge of his nose not really believing what he was about to do.

Leaning down again he picked up the other man, surprised at how light he was, and threw him over his shoulder.

Rummaging around in the others pocket beforehand to find the key card the other had mentioned and strolling out the complex the way the other had described.

Soon they were in a small apartment used by the resistance as hideout. Once there Hank tied up the Sheriff, just because the man was pathetic didn’t mean Hank trusted the other to not run and tattle on one of their hideouts.

Now he’d have to wait.

5 hours later Sheriff stirred awake

--original POV--

Sheriff awoke with his head pounding like crazy. Where was he? Wait. He was still alive. Moving around a little he felt something restraining his wrists and ankles. Now he started to breathe faster. This wasn’t good. Had Phobos come back early and intervened? 

If that was the case Sheriff wanted nothing of what was to come. Starting to struggle he seized up as a low voice reached his ears.

H: “Stop moving, you’ll hurt yourself. Don’t wanna waste medical supplies on you just because you decide it’d be fun to be stupid.”

Sheriffs vision was still blurry but it only took him a few seconds to realize that that voice did not belong to Phobos but instead the man he had freed earlier. He looked over, relaxing a bit.

Hank stood from the chair he had been sitting on, a look on his face Sheriff couldn’t place.

Oh no. Did he just bring him along to torture him?

H: “Jeez. What did they do to you in that shit organization of theirs to make you relax when you see the man that tried to and succeeded in killing you before?”

Sheriff blinked a few times at that. His brain was still slow so it took him a while to respond.

Sh: “I-..uhm..where-?”

H: “My hideout. I’ll keep you around just in case. Plus, you might be able to tell me some interesting things about the organization.” Sheriff nodded at that, hoping Hank wouldn’t ask any questions too soon. Because if he did he’d find out that Sheriff too didn’t know that much.

H: “For now I thought of a solution to keep you where you are without having to supervise you 24 / 7”

At that Hank brought up a long chain with a cuff attached to it. Sheriff followed the long chain over to a wall where the second cuff was attached to a heater. The chain was long enough for him to move around the room and maybe even the other two attached rooms but probably not long enough to let him reach the front door.

He sighed. Well, it was better than being dead or getting tortured at least.

Soon the cuff was around his ankle.

H: “I’ll remove the other restraints now. Don’t be stupid!”

Sheriff nodded, holding out his wrists and ankles and waiting patiently for the other to do as he said.

Once free he rubbed his reddened skin a bit to soothe the ache.

Sh: “. . . what now?”

H: “I’m heading to bed. Yours is right over there. DO NOT try anything stupid or I’ll put a bullet in your head faster than you can blink!”

Sheriff gave a quick nod at that, shying away from the other as he loomed over him.

With that and a last warning glare Hank left the room.

Sheriff watched him walk out and close the door behind himself. Looking over to where Hank had pointed he saw a basic bed with a pillow and some sheets. With wobbly legs he got up from the chair he had been in and made his way over to the bed only to collapse onto it and curl into a tight ball.

What was going to happen now? Did he make the right choice? What would Hank do once he found out that Sheriff wasn’t of any use? All these questions slowly faded into the background as Sheriff curled up even more, flinging the blanket that was provided to him over himself and closing his eyes.

He could think about all those things tomorrow. For now all he wanted to do was sleep away the headache and other aches riddling his body.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Day 5 Birthday Plot Bunnies 2

If you want this to become my next WIP, be sure to shower it with lots of love!!  🥰 💖 All the story starters will be linked back to this masterpost.

Title: For the Love of My Husband

Summary: Bilbo is a thief and a conman who has tricked Thorin, Crown Prince of Erebor, to marry him as an escape from a tight spot. He thought their marriage was happily enough, but Thorin feels a disconnect from the hobbit he’s married. To appease his family and strengthen their bond, Thorin asks Bilbo to take the Trial of Souls with him. Problem is, Bilbo doesn’t want Thorin to know anything about him because they are most assuredly not Ones. And if Thorin learns the truth, Bilbo will find himself back in the streets or worse...

In a darkened pub deep under the kingdom of Erebor, a hobbit and a dwarf squared off. The waiting crowd was near silent as they waited to see what would happen next. The dark haired beast of a dwarf looked fairly confident as he shared a smirk with his two friends directly behind him.

“What’ll it be, Took? Fold or settle?”

The hobbit nonchalantly lifted his overturn cup to sneak a peek at the two dice lying inside. 

“How about I raise you instead?”

It was silent for a moment before the dwarf, Drulik, burst into laughter followed by his cronies.

“Raise? You have nothing left to bet with.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” Bilbo stated before pulling out a silver harp-shaped brooch with thin golden strings.

The dwarves surrounding the gamblers all began murmuring at once, some trying to lean in for a closer view.

“Is that…?” One of Drulik’s dwarves gaped.

“Yes.” Bilbo announced calmly. “The Courting Gift of our dearly departed queen, Mahal rest her soul.”

“How did you get that?” Drulik demanded.

Bilbo gave him a wane smile as he tucked back into his vest with a pat. “It doesn’t matter. The question you should be asking is how much do you think it’s worth?”

The gambling den awaited Drulik’s long drawn out answer. It almost made the hobbit want to roll his eyes at the melodrama. However, after years on the streets, he knew a good show could sometimes be the difference between success and failure. And Bilbo didn’t fail. Finally, Drulik pulled out another bag, spilling the golden coins onto the pile between them.

“Settle.” Drulik demanded before revealing the contents under his cup.

The crowd cheered and whistled much to Drulik’s ego at the combined total of eleven from his dice. Nine Rings was a gambling game loved by Durin’s Folk and Men alike with a very simple premise. Highest total won. So you bet and bluff to convince your opponent that you have as close to twelve beneath the cup as possible. However, there was one small exception. Nine always trumped any other number. Therefore, when Bilbo lifted his cup to reveal the five and four, there was a near frenzy of excitement. Drulik was rendered speechless as Bilbo lifted his pint in cheer before downing the ale all in one go. Producing a sack from his coat pocket, he raked all the golden coins towards him.

“Well lads, this has been more excitement than any hobbit can take, but I think I’m going to leave now while my fortunes are in my favor.”

“You cheated.” Drulik growled. “You had to have.”

“Check my dice if you wish.” Bilbo offered with a shrug.

The tavern owner, Nifror, who ran as honorable a den as one could for thieves and ruffians was at their table in a flash. Bilbo had heard a tale that the last dwarf who cheated at the game got their loaded dice pinned, one to each hand, with a knife made by Nifror’s wife. He threw the dice a few times and each time they landed with a different number. He shrugged.

“The hobbit’s clean.”

“But that’s impossible.” One of Drulik’s own gaped.

“Yeah, we loaded them ourselves!” The other snarled.

There was a pause and then Old Nifror was on them in a flash. Some moved to help the old barkeep out. The rest roared and placed bets on the winner. Meanwhile, Bilbo used this as the perfect opportunity to sneak away. He dropped the loaded dice he had smuggled into his pocket on the ground with a snort. Like he would be that stupid. Now most would have worried walking around with that much gold around the dregs of Erebor’s underworld. Fortunately, Bilbo was a professional at remaining quiet and unseen. A talent he had been forced to pick up early in his life. Which is why he nearly screamed when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Make a good haul?” The dwarf smirked.

Bilbo turned around with a glare. “You know you don’t have to be so smug every time you manage to catch me off guard.”

Nori, Bilbo’s oldest and dearest friend, just raised an eyebrow as he tried and failed to hide the mischievous superiority oozing from his every pore.

“Just like to remind you, you’re not the best just yet.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes as he continued on his way knowing the dwarf was following.

“We both know I was headed to your place eventually so is there a reason you’re bugging me now?”

“Can I not worry over the sake of my friend?” Nori gasped overdramatically.

Bilbo snorted but made no arguments or agreements.

“Well, if I were coming to find you, it might have something to do with the fact that your husband finished up his duties early today to surprise you.”

The coin he was holding nearly slipped from his suddenly numb fingers.

“Valar above!” Bilbo swore. “That dwarf. He’s positively incorrigible!”

“He’s in love.” Nori pointed out.

Bilbo scoffed. “Love. Well shit, looks like you’re going to have to take this to our hiding place for me.”

Bilbo shoved the bag of gold into the dwarf’s chest before power walking towards the secret tunnels. Nori kept stride with him, clearly not done delivering bad news.

“Are you anywhere close to the right amount?”

“I’ve nearly two-thirds at this point.”

“Bilbo, you only have a week left.”

“I’m well aware, Nori! Maybe it's enough to...buy me more time.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t the whole point of you marrying some rich noble supposed to give you easy access to the treasury?”

“It was, but there was one teeny detail we didn’t take into account.”

“What’s that?”

Bilbo paused, his face falling into a grimace. “In-laws.”

***

One of the first things Bilbo and Nori did upon their rushed and unplanned move to Erebor from Ered Luin was scope out the best places for a quick getaway. They just so happened to make kind with a chatty miner named Bofur who, while deep in his cup, told them that the royal wing originally was meant to be on the other side of the mountain. When the architects realized the disadvantage of having the royal family so far from the guards’ posts and war meeting rooms, rather than just move the furniture back down only to go back up on the correct side, they cut unmapped tunnels around the outside of the mountain. It also had the added advantage of getting their monarchy out quicker in the case of a coup if the knowledge hadn’t been lost through time. It was perfect for the thieves’ needs. In almost no time at all, Nori and Bilbo had found the tunnels and utilized them fully. 

Something the hobbit was thankful for now as he flew down the tunnel to get back to his room. He welcomed the blast of mountain wind to rapidly cool the sweat on his face before ducking back into the opposite entrance. There was a small alcove where Bilbo’s fancier clothes lay and he all but threw himself out of his worn threads for the finer silks and cotton. The last thing he did was pocket the brooch before sprinting back down the tunnel braiding and beading his hair on the run. Once he was back in the royals’ wing, he ducked his head out to make sure the coast was clear, and then silently made his way to his suite. After closing the door behind him, Bilbo relaxed against it, heaving a sigh of relief.

“And just where have you been, Husband of Mine?”

Bilbo prided himself on the fact that he did not squeak even if he did jump nearly two feet in the air. Thorin, Prince of Erebor, was lounging in the armchair by the fireplace looking rather pleased with himself. Bilbo attempted to calm his racing heart as he stepped forward, plastering what he hoped to be a loving grin on his face.

“Just a walk on the cliffs with Nori. Surely, you would not deny this hobbit the feel of fresh air and sunshine?”

Thorin stood at that point, meeting him about halfway. His thumb gently caressed Bilbo’s cheek.

“If I had it my way, I would deny you nothing, ukradê (my greatest heart).”

Bilbo hummed in practiced delight as he met his husband’s lips with his own. The hobbit was at least content with the knowledge that as far as dwarves went, Thorin was stunningly handsome. Not a sentiment necessarily shared with others of his race. Which worked out just fine for Bilbo as it left a prince of all things, uncommitted and available.

“By the way, look what I found this morning.” Bilbo stepped back with a teasing smile as he produced the brooch from his pocket.

“My mother’s brooch!” Thorin gaped as he took it reverently. “Where…?”

“It was under my bed. You must have dropped it when you paid me a surprise visit last night.”

Thorin smirked as he latched onto Bilbo’s hips. “I remember the night well.”

Oh, and he was a really, really good bed partner. No, Bilbo was well aware he could have it much worse. It was just the dwarf’s nauseating romanticism that nearly caused him to roll his eyes more than once. Thorin gave him a long lingering kiss before he bent forward to press his forehead against Bilbo’s own. Their hands found their way into each other’s naturally interlocking.

“I promise, it won’t always be like this.” Thorin murmured when he finally pulled away, his blue eyes shining brightly.

Like this. The dwarf was so dramatic. It constantly made Bilbo feel like some player performing for the court. Heaving a sigh as he looked down between their conjoined hands. 

“We’ve been married for eight months, and two of those have been spent here in Erebor. If your family was going to accept me, they would have done so by now.”

Thorin released his hands so he could lift Bilbo’s chin to look at him.

“Don’t lose faith yet, amrâlimê (my love). I have a plan.”

It was a good thing Bilbo was a talented actor. He laughed, causing Thorin to smile.

“You have a plan? That sounds dangerous.”

“Tease all you want, but I have all the confidence in this plan.”

“Well, out with it. What have you come up with?”

Thorin shook his head teasingly. “You’ll have to wait. I want it to be a surprise.”

Bilbo linked his arms around the dwarf’s neck for leverage as he started showering him with kisses at his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and his throat.

“And I couldn’t persuade you to tell me any sooner?”

“You are cruel, thundanûd (tiny embrace).” Thorin moaned, his hands resting on Bilbo’s arms.

“It’s only cruel if you don’t accept the invitation.” Bilbo teased back as he pulled at the prince’s tunic to allow him access to his collarbone.

Thorin shuddered once with want before finding the strength to pull away. He grasped Bilbo’s hands again as he kissed him deeply as an apology.

“Later. There will be time later. But now...we are having dinner with my family.”

Bilbo’s building fire of lust was immediately doused, a small frown settled on his forehead that Thorin attempted to kiss away. Lovely, the in-laws.

It certainly wasn’t that Bilbo wanted them to like him. He could honestly care less. It was just their dislike of him that made it really difficult for him to do...well, much of anything. Thrain, still mourning the loss of his dead wife, remained suspicious and hardened against Bilbo for the sheer fact that he was a hobbit. Their marriage had yet to be announced to the Council or even the mountain in general. Keeping Bilbo out of the public eye was Thrain’s number one priority which was certainly no hardship. It was Frerin and Dis he had the biggest problems with. Thorin’s brother and sister, ever loyal to him, seemed to think Bilbo wasn’t good enough for the dwarf, and constantly had Balin, the royal advisor, keeping tabs on him. Bilbo was reluctant to admit the dwarf’s keen eyes and sharp wit, but it had taken quite a few of Bilbo’s best moves to lose his tails before entering the secret tunnels.

Therefore, coming together in the Royal Dining Room for “family dinners” was a...stilted affair. There were only two redeeming features to those evenings. One, it was always the best food Bilbo had ever eaten in his life. And two, Thorin’s nephews, Fili and Kili, were not the least bit bothered by him and had some story worth telling that took the edge of him for a little bit at least.

“And then the axe sailed through the air and straight into the boar’s head. So technically, technically we aren’t responsible for the mess in the trophy room.” Kili finished.

“No.” Vili, their father snorted. “Just responsible for startling the poor guard that set off the chain of events.”

“Well how were we supposed to know he was right there?” Fili defended.

Bilbo snorted in spite of himself. “Watch the shadows.”

He immediately tensed after he said it as he waited for the barrage of insults to be hurtled his way.

“Spoken like a true thief.” Dis sneered.

Yep, right on cue.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t corrupt my sons.” She continued.

“Namad…” Thorin warned softly.

Thrain’s hand met the tabletop in a harsh bang. “What have I said about speaking our language in front of the Halfling?!”

Bilbo sighed and turned his attention to his soup as the line of Durin flexed their tempers. Thorin rising to his defense, Dis and Thrain attempting to argue their points louder, Frerin leaving snide quips here and there, and Vili trying and failing to keep the peace. The joy of family dinners.

“Actually, while we’re on this subject, I have something to say.” Thorin demanded, his voice low and regal. “I will be gone the remainder of the week.”

Everyone, including Bilbo, froze and stared up at Thorin in relative confusion and outrage. The prince’s eyes were boring holes straight into his father whose scowl would be enough to frighten wargs off at this point.

“And just where will you be?” The king finally spat.

Thorin reached down for Bilbo’s hand making the hobbit supremely discomforted. Thorin’s eyes were soft and pleading though as they met his.

“We will be taking the Trial of Souls.”

“We’ll be doing what now?” Bilbo questioned.

“Thorin…” Dis murmured at a surprisingly subdued volume, her eyebrows knitted together.

“Finally! A sensible idea!” Frerin declared. 

All eyes rested on the brunette as he raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you think? I mean, to put it bluntly, everyone at this table has been trying to convince Thorin out of this marriage in some way. When they don’t emerge from the tunnels together, that would be a pretty good indicator of the truth.”

“We haven’t. We like Bilbo.” Kili reminded softly.

Bilbo shot the troublemakers a quick smile of thanks. They were idiots, but they were sweet. Meanwhile, Thrain was rubbing his beard in thought before nodding once.

“Yes, this will do well. In fact, if you make it through all five chambers, I’ll hold a feast in honor and publically accept your union.”

Thorin nodded, still looking rather cross with his father. “As I’d hoped.”

Bilbo found he couldn’t take it anymore. “Now, wait! Wait just a minute! What is this...Trial of Souls?”

Thorin stared at his father for permission, and the king granted it almost the picture of satisfaction. Being a gambler, it made Bilbo largely nervous as Thorin turned back towards him.

“It’s a series of tests to prove two dwarves...or in our case, a dwarf and a hobbit, are Ones.”

Bilbo’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times, but no words were able to come out.

“Problem, Halfling?” Dis questioned with mock innocence.

“Thorin, a moment if you please.” Bilbo was finally able to say as he pulled his stone-headed husband out into the hall.

“Are you serious?!” He finally rounded on him.

“What?” Thorin questioned.

“Thorin, I…” Bilbo fought for the right words without making this worse. “I don’t understand. What exactly do we have to prove? We’re married. Shouldn’t that be enough?!”

Thorin sighed. “It should. You are correct, ibinê (my gem). But don’t you see? It’s perfect! My family will be satisfied by our success at the Trials, and it’ll be irrefutable evidence to the rest of the mountain if any rose to challenge us. And politics aside, I want this for us.”

“Us?” Bilbo repeated too numb to be completely in control of his mouth.

“Yes!” Thorin nodded eagerly. “Couples that pass the Trials of Souls find they become closer than ever. Our...relationship hasn’t been for very long, and I respect that your past is painful to you, but I want to know you azyungel (love of loves). I want to know everything there is to know about my husband, and share myself in return. What do you say?”

Now being a hardened thief, the hobbit knew a thing or two about how to get out of a seemingly hopeless situation. However, as his mind swirled and swirled around the damnable logic of Thorin’s decision, he found himself becoming dizzy and nauseated. That was it then. Bilbo was doomed. He had just enough time to get out a soft ‘nope’ before he fell over in a dead faint.