#and chickened out on pulling the trigger multiple times since

[hexwhore]

NAME CHANGE LET'S GOOOO!! It's perfect

started from the bottom now we here

[dhampiravidi]

ronnie x jasmine/artemis/the traitor

continued from here (moved to comply w/Beta editor):

It was like a work conference for organized crime. There were maybe fifteen people inside the hotel's largest event room, all dressed in some kind of business casual or formal wear. They represented different "families", each characterized by their members' ethnicity and the territory they claimed within the United States. But Jas knew that they all had one thing in common: they were going to die in the next ten minutes, courtesy of her. She just needed her plan to go smoothly.

Common sense said she couldn't just walk in, pull out a semi, and start shooting--there were innocent waiters scattered about the room, offering amuse-bouches, petits fours, and generous flutes of champagne. Thankfully, she knew that the waiters would be shooed away at some point because she'd managed to get a program for the event. Apparently, the hotel had requested some kind of itinerary, presumably so they could give their guests all the necessary amenities, blah, blah, blah. Jasmine doubted the hotel would turn down the kind of money that the crime lords could pool together. People always turned a blind eye whenever money was involved. The only unknown was how much they felt their services were worth.

She was waiting a building over, sniper equipment ready. Close combat was more efficient in her opinion, since it almost guaranteed executions. The only challenging part of that scenario was getting away, and half the time that was made easy because she already had to carve a path to her target in the first place. But when it came to taking out multiple targets at long range, there was always the possibility that the enemy's entourage could and would trace her shots back to where she was set up. Once they did that, Jas only had about five minutes, tops, before she was caught. One step at a time. She'd been in worse situations and gotten out alive.

Half a second after the last waiter left the room, Jas swept the room using her laser sight, found her first target, and started shooting. The first shot narrowly missed, because the asshole had to bend over for something. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice. So she lined up the shot again and pulled the trigger. While her first target was staggering, about to fall over, Jasmine looked for the next face she'd memorized and took out two more scumbags before anyone at the little event even tried to take cover. Sometimes it was hard not to take a certain pleasure in what she did. Yes, she was doing the world a service, but her job wasn't something she'd encourage kids to do. She had dedicated her life to making the world a better place, the only way she knew how. There wasn't any going back, and there certainly wasn't a happy ending in store for her...

Four left.

She played Chicken (more like Idiot) with one target, finding the woman's head to line up the shot, then shooting far away from her so she'd think she was safe. Three left. Jas could do this. She could go back to her hidey-hole without a scratch. Maybe, depending on how much energy she had to put on a decent disguise (her sniping outfit didn't exactly scream "casual, typical young woman in her 30s"), Jas could even get Starbucks, or something interesting from one of the small places near the apartment she was squatting. She'd have to beware of the many CCTV cams in the area, but that was a given. In the modern day, anyone could be found. Even though she had been caught couple times, and tortured, she refused to give up. So she just had to be careful. Luck wasn't a thing when your parents had been killed in front of you.

[maswritingblog]

The Arrangement - Part Four

Summary: After their first failure, Lucy and Marcus continue with the schedule as planned and hope for the best. 

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY!), Oral (f receiving), mentions of trying to conceive, mentions of fertility, pregnancy tests (in case that is triggering for anyone) Unedited because I literally finished it and wanted to post it, so sorry for any mistakes.

A/N: Here is the next part! I hope you all enjoy it and I once again apologize for the long wait for this chapter. It’s a long one, coming in at about 7k words.

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Lucy’s phone chimed on her desk beside her, pulling her attention away from the email she was composing. She had been needing a break, her eyes starting to get tired from staring at her computer screen all morning. She took the opportunity to draft the email and sat back in her cushy office chair, unlocking her phone to view the notification.

Ovulation day!

The two words were framed by little flowers from the theme for the dumb cycle tracking app she’d downloaded a few days after she had started sleeping with Marcus. She hadn’t realized it was her ovulation day and she cursed inwardly; not only was it Tuesday, she also had to work late tonight, so spending an extra night at Marcus’s wasn’t an option.

Dammit. She sighed heavily, placing her phone back on her desk as she thought for a moment. She couldn’t afford to not stay late tonight, but Marcus couldn’t afford to lose one of the best days they had. That really only left one option…but she wasn’t sure if Marcus would agree to it, or if she was up for it either.

She debated it for a long few minutes before she decided it was a risk she was willing to take, and she grabbed her phone to send Marcus a message.

Meet me in the parking garage in five minutes. Level 8.

She hoped she wasn’t being too crazy, that he wouldn’t think she was out of her mind when she revealed her plan. Honestly, she was out of her mind for even thinking about doing something like this at work.

Marcus’s reply came back almost instantly. Everything okay?

Instead of answering, she dropped her phone on her desk and pushed her chair back. She made sure her computer was locked and secured before slipping out of her office and heading towards the elevators. She tried not to look into Marcus’s office on the way, though she knew he must be confused about the situation.

She wanted the mystery to work in her favor.

Level eight of the parking garage was one of the levels that didn’t get much traffic. It was where the extra government vehicles were parked and agents would use them occasionally when they couldn’t use the ones assigned to them. The secluded level would be perfect so long as there weren’t any agents needing a temporary vehicle.

Lucy rode the elevator to floor six and got off, walking quickly to the SUV she’d been issued for her team but didn’t get to use that often. It might as well get some use now, even if it wasn’t exactly what the big-wigs had in mind when they’d handed her the keys.

Driving up to the eighth floor, she moved down the two rows of matching black SUVs and finally parked at the end of the row on the left side. She only hoped it was far enough away that nobody would notice anything.

She tried not to think about the fact that she was slightly turned on by the idea of doing this. Maybe it was the thrill of getting caught, of the consequences of being found doing something so inappropriate on government property.

Stepping out of her car, she walked around to lean against the back end as she waited for Marcus. It only took another minute before the elevator dinged and he stepped out, looking around with a look of confusion on his face before he spotted her and headed her way.

“Lucy? What’s going on?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her, his brown eyes searching her face for any kind of answer.

For a brief moment, she almost wanted to chicken out. It would be easy to change her mind, even if she would have to come up with an explanation as to why she had dragged him to the parking garage in the middle of the work day.

“So, it’s Tuesday,” she started slowly, trying to decide how to approach the situation.

He nodded slowly. “…yes…”

Lucy laughed lightly, more at the situation that she’d put herself in more than anything else. “It’s Tuesday, and I have to stay late tonight to work on the briefing for tomorrow. But the thing is…I’m ovulating. Today’s the highest chance for pregnancy according to my stupid app, so I didn’t want to miss the chance to try.”

As she rambled, he seemed to put it together. His eyes widened nearly comically and he glanced around the parking level as if someone would be lurking in the shadows watching them.

“You—you want to do it here?” he asked, voice laced with surprise. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

She nodded quickly. “I know it’s crazy, but this could be the day and this is the only time we’ll have to try. We don’t exactly have time to drive anywhere offsite, and I’m not about to do it in a bathroom or a supply closet where anyone could walk in. I figured this would be the best place since nobody really comes up to this level.”

Marcus sputtered, seeming to lose all ability to speak. “W-What? How—How?”

She wondered if he was flustered because he thought she was nuts, or if he liked the idea. She had to admit that the prospect of getting caught had an affect on her in a way she hadn’t realized before; perhaps it had something to do with breaking the rules.

“The back seats lay down, leaves a good amount of room in the trunk. But we don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it; I just won’t be able come over tonight and I didn’t want to miss an ovulation day.”

He was silent and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Sometimes she felt like she could read Marcus like a book, and sometimes she felt like he was locked in a safe and she didn’t know the combination. As he eyeballed the back of the SUV, she wondered if she had truly lost her mind when she had thought this was a good idea.

Finally, he gave her a pointed look. “Are you comfortable with this? I don’t want you to think you have to do this just for me.”

Of course, he was being a gentleman about this. Of course, he was putting her comfort above his. It was so on brand for him, and yet that didn’t stop her from being surprised by it. She appreciated it, while also wishing he would think of himself more often.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m the one suggesting this, remember?”

Marcus paused in thought for a moment, his eyes moving from the SUV to her multiple times before he finally nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He agreed.

She wasn’t sure why she was surprised, maybe because she thought public sex was a line he wasn’t willing to cross. If she were being honest with herself, it wasn’t a line she had ever imagined crossing either. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, right? Something told her this wasn’t what the person who had coined that phrase had in mind.

“Okay.” She echoed, moving to one of the back doors and motioning for him to go around to the other side.

Pulling the door open, she reached for the lever to lower the seat on her side and watched as Marcus did the same. With the back row lying flat, there was plenty of room for the two of them to lay down, which seemed like the best way to not be spotted should anyone actually come to this level. Climbing in was a bit awkward, but they managed to get the doors shut behind them. Kneeling in the back of the SUV, they stared at each other for a beat.

“So, how do we do this?” Marcus wondered, asking the same question she had been mulling over in her head.

She didn’t know why she had to have the answer for everything, but it could have something to do with the fact that she had initiated this encounter. She had been confident about this idea when she’d come up with it, but now she found herself blanking on the next step. Perhaps she didn’t have it in her to be this spontaneous?

“I didn’t really have this all planned out…” she admitted slowly. The awkwardness felt like the first time all over again, and it almost made her laugh.

Marcus nodded. “Okay, so I don’t really want to be caught buck naked at work, so I’m thinking that we stay as clothed as possible.” He suggested.

It was something she could agree with. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. So, pants only then?”

“Pants only.”

Lucy reached down to work on her belt and he did the same. Once her pants were undone and she’d pushed them down her thighs slightly, she sat fully and started pushing them down her legs. It wasn’t the easiest task in the back of the SUV and she found she had to lay down a bit to even get them to her knees.

Marcus’s hands were gently pushing hers away then and he pulled the tight slacks down her legs.

“If I had known this was gonna happen, I would have worn a skirt today.” She joked, slipping her shoes off so he could pull her pants off and push them out of the way.

“Definitely would have been easier.” He teased as he slotted his hips between her thighs and leaned over her to press his lips to hers.

His belt was hanging open, the cool metal pressing against the skin of her inner thigh and making her jump slightly. Their tongues tangled and she wanted to run her hands through his hair the way he liked, but she didn’t want to make it obvious what he’d been doing away from his desk. Instead, she reached down and finished opening his pants for him, lowering the zipper and slipping her hand inside to palm him over his briefs.

Marcus groaned into her mouth, pressing his hips into her hand as his teeth nipped at her bottom lip and then her chin before his lips returned to hers in a heated kiss. He rolled his hips against her palm and she squeezed him gently, pulling another groan from his throat, followed by his hand grasping her wrist in warning.

Lucy chuckled against his lips, beginning to squeeze again only to be surprised by his next move.

The grip on her wrist tightened and he yanked her hand from his pants, pinning her wrist down next to her head. He pulled away to stare down at her, his chest heaving as his eyes narrowed playfully at her.

“What?” she asked in feigned innocence, stifling a laugh.

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he simply shook his head at her with a laugh of his own. He released her wrist and supported his weight on his hand next to her head, the other reaching down to begin pushing his pants and briefs down.

Taking it as a cue, she reached down to do the same with her underwear, sliding them down her legs as best she could as he pushed his down to his knees.

“Can’t believe we’re actually doing this.” He commented as he situated himself between her legs again, his erection bobbing against his stomach where he’d pulled his dress shirt up out of the way of any potential messes.

She wanted to ask him if it was as exhilarating to him as it was to her, but she thought that maybe he didn’t see it that way, that he’d find it weird that she did. She’d discovered a lot of things about herself since they’d begun sleeping together, a lot of things that excited her despite the fact that she’d never considered them in that light before. Perhaps she was more depraved than she realized.

“We don’t have to.” She reminded him, just in case he was having second thoughts. She wasn’t sure if he was given the way he was already so ready, the tip of him already leaking. Despite his body’s reaction, though, she wanted to give him the chance to back out.

Marcus’s met her gaze, and his voice came out soft despite the way his eyes had darkened with lust. “I want to.” He reassured her while silently asking if she still wanted this as well.

There was a long beat of silence as she stared up at him. She admired his handsome features, the way a lock of his perfectly styled hair had fallen onto his forehead and the way his nose curved down towards his plump lips. That single dimple that she found so endearing.

It still baffled her how he didn’t already have a beautiful wife and family.

She found herself unable to respond verbally, so she reached up to pull his mouth back down to hers.

He got the hint, pressing his body down close to hers as he reached down to position himself at her entrance. He slid his tip up and down her folds a couple of times, gathering her wetness before pressing into her slowly. He eased in until his hips were flush against hers, both moaning in unison as their lips parted, their foreheads pressed together.

There was no going back now; Lucy’s knees brushed against his sides as she hitched her legs up further on his hips, pulling him deeper inside her with a soft sigh against his mouth.

His hips drew back slowly and then he slid forward again, repeating the movement a few times. As good as he felt, as good as the slide of him inside her walls made her feel, she knew they didn’t have the same amount of time they usually did and anyone could come up to this floor at any time.

“We have to hurry.” She gasped as he filled her again.

He pulled almost completely out of her and paused. For just a moment she thought he might stop, but then he thrust forward, driving into her hard and fast, wasting no time before he did it again, and again.

Lucy clung to his shoulders, hands fisting in the material of his shirt as she held on, small and breathy moans escaping her each time he filled her. She knew his shirt might be wrinkled by her hands, but at least he could cover it with his suit jacket if he needed to. For now, all she needed to be focused on was the pleasure rolling through her with his movements, and the hope that the risk they were taking would pay off in the end.

The rhythm they had created had the SUV rocking gently; if anyone saw they would definitely know what was happening inside.

Marcus was hovering over her, supporting his weight on one hand as the other hooked under her right knee to press her leg closer to her chest. The new angle had him driving deeper inside and brushing against her just right; the slap of his hips against hers as he worked at a bruising pace only echoed by their sounds of pleasure.

One of Lucy’s hands scrambled down from his shoulder, desperate for purchase. She gripped at his side where his shirt was raised, nails biting into the skin as she rolled her hips up to meet his.

Marcus groaned above her in response to the scratch of her nails and as he thrust forward again, he took a moment to grind his pelvis against hers.

“Oh, fuck.” She gasped, reaching up to cup his jaw and pull his mouth back down to hers.

Their tongues tangled as they moaned into each other’s mouths, hips working together to get them closer to their release. Just as Lucy felt herself approaching the cliff, the ding of the elevator startled them.

They both jumped, freezing their movements as Marcus hunched over her as if he was trying to shield her semi-nude body from any prying eyes. His head lifted slightly to peek out the window and Lucy waited with baited breath for someone to catch them.

They would surely be fired if they were caught having sex at work.

Marcus’s brown eyes were locked on whoever had arrived on the parking level. The sound of voices filled the concrete structure and Lucy thought for sure things were going to end badly.

Unexpectedly, Marcus slowly rolled his hips against hers, causing her eyes to flutter involuntarily.

“Wha—?”

“Ssshh.” Marcus shushed softly, eyes not leaving the window as he pulled out slowly only to fill her again at the same pace.

Was he really doing this? As he rocked his hips again, it seemed he was.

His eyes never left the window as he moved slowly over her. She could hear voices on the parking level, although they were several vehicles away. Each push and pull of his hips had him brushing up against the sensitive spot inside her and it only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Although she tried to stop it, she couldn’t completely hide the small moan that escaped her as his hips ground against hers. She knew she needed to keep quiet for both their sakes, but it just felt too good.

Marcus gently shushed her again, the tips of his first three fingers pressing delicately to her lips to keep her quiet.

God, there was something about the need to keep quiet that had her so close.

The soft thudding of car doors shutting echoed through the parking garage and Marcus used the opportunity to snap his hips against hers just a little harder, pulling another whimper from her throat as her eyes fluttered closed.

An engine started before the vehicle could be heard driving down the ramp exiting the level and Marcus pulled his hand away from her mouth, driving his hips forward as he returned to the pace they’d set before the interruption.

Lucy tried to ignore the way she missed his fingers over her lips, choosing to drag his mouth back down to hers for a heated kiss, lifting her hips to meet his hard thrusts as one of his arms wrapped around her to hold her body against his.

“Fuck.” Lucy gasped against his mouth, feeling herself once again on the precipice. One of her hands fisted in his shirt again, while the other seemed to have a mind of its own and slid around to grasp a handful of his backside as if it would help guide his movements. She couldn’t think straight, all she knew was how good he felt, and then she was tumbling over the edge with a string of moans.

Marcus buried his face in her neck, working her through her orgasm with a groan of his own at the way she pulsed around him. His arm tightened around her, fingers digging into her ribcage as his thrusts become shallow and deliberate as he desperately chased after his own release.

Lucy’s hand left his shirt, reaching up to smooth through the hair on the back of his head as if she was encouraging him to let go. Her nails dug into his backside as she gently tugged on the soft locks of hair, eliciting a moan from where he was tucked into her neck.

A little encouragement was all it took and he was there, warmth blossoming inside her as he filled her with rope after rope. He moaned slowly, nuzzling against her neck as he came down from his high.

They laid there like that for a minute or two as they cooled down, tangled up in each other despite the fact that they didn’t have the luxury of their normal wind down time. Even though they needed to get back to work before anyone noticed they were both missing, neither of them moved. Perhaps it had been the fact that they had almost been caught or that they had done this at work, but it had made this time more exhilarating, and in turn had exhausted them.

Regardless, Lucy didn’t mind a little extra time with his arms around her.

After what felt like five minutes or more, she rubbed both her hand up and down his back slowly. “We have to get back to work.” She spoke softly, her voice raw.

Marcus nodded against her throat. “Mmhmm.” He mumbled, arm squeezing around her tighter for several seconds before he slowly pulled back to look down at her, his eyes darkened with something other than lust.

Lucy’s fingers brushed over his cheekbone and she glanced at the fogged over window over their heads. “We totally missed the opportunity to recreate Titanic.” She noted with a chuckle.

He laughed lightly, brushing her hair off her forehead. “Maybe next time.” He offered, still slightly out of breath from the exertion.

Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmm…are you trying to get caught with your pants down regularly?”

“Well, I was thinking we’d park somewhere more discrete, but if you wanted to do it in the middle of the road, that’s fine too.”

She shook her head at him, rolling her eyes playfully. “As thrilling as it was to almost lose my job, I think we should stick with discretion in the future.”

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, it was thrilling for you, huh?” he teased.

Another eyeroll. “Getting less thrilling by the second.”

He snickered, leaning down to press his lips against hers in a chaste kiss that quickly turned heated.

She allowed it for a few seconds before pushing against his chest. “Okay, okay, we gotta get back to work.” As much as she would have enjoyed potentially going for another round, she knew they could both only be away from their offices for so long before it became suspicious.

“I know, I know.” He sighed, taking a second before he slipped out of her and rolled onto his back, beginning to put his clothes back together.

Lucy reached for her underwear, pulling them back on before moving for her pants. It was a bit awkward trying to redress in the back of the SUV, but they quickly got themselves presentable.

“Okay, I’m gonna drive this back to where I originally parked and you can go back to your office. That way we don’t show back up at the same time.”

He nodded as he opened the car door and climbed out. “That’s probably a good idea. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

She rounded the back end of the car and reached up to fix his collar before smoothing her hands over the wrinkles on his shoulders from her hands. “Well, I think they’ll probably figure it out when I get pregnant.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

Marcus paused, eyes widening slightly as he took in her words. Lucy didn’t seem to register what she’d said, adjusting her own shirt as best she could using the reflection in the car window.

“When?”

She turned at the surprise in his voice, finding his face open with awe. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?” She teased him with a chuckle. Inwardly, she too realized that she’d said when instead of if. Maybe it was just positive thinking, or maybe she just knew it was going to work out for him. As good a guy as Marcus Pike was, he deserved to have a family and surely whatever deity reigned above would see that.

“Y-Yeah,” he swallowed hard. “I guess it was just different hearing you sound so sure about it.”

“Look, I know I’ve been sort of a Debbie Downer the last few days—”

“—No! It was rough when things didn’t work out, I understand why you were upset. I was, too. It’s just nice to hear you feeling positive again.”

Lucy grinned at him, stepping closer and resting her hands on his hips. “Well, that would be the endorphins, probably. You know, from the mind-blowing sex we just had?”

He couldn’t help but laugh in response, nodding his head in agreement. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”

“I always am.”

Stretching onto her toes, she pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before she stepped away. If she let it go any further, they might end up in the SUV again.

“Okay, get back upstairs before someone notices.”

“As you wish.”

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Peeing on a stick always felt so weird to her. She’d had her fair share of pregnancy scares in college, so it was nothing new, but the act of trying to land as much urine on the tip of a stick as she could was always odd. Having to stop several times to use multiple tests was just as strange, but soon she was standing in front of the bathroom sink with three pregnancy tests in front of her.

Two minutes and she’d know. Two minutes and her life would either change for the better or continue to be stressful for the short amount of time Marcus had left before his surgery.

“Are you sure it’s not too soon?” the man in question asked from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

She’d opened the bathroom door after she’d peed on the sticks, not wanting to wait for the results alone.

“I don’t know, these tests say you can take them as early as ten days after unprotected sex.” She said, studying the box again. “I mean, we’ve done it plenty of times since the SUV, but something about that time felt like it worked.”

“Probably just those endorphins.”

She gave him a wry look, rolling her eyes even though she knew he was probably right. She couldn’t explain it, but something about that time felt right. And, yeah, maybe it was just the rush she’d gotten from almost being caught or the fact that it had been one of their best moments together, but she still needed to check. Besides, the only harm that could come from a negative result would be disappointment, and she was already chalk full of that.

“It’s been two minutes.” Marcus said softly, breaking her from her thoughts.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer, leaning down to check the tests. Her shoulders slumped.

They were all negative.

When Marcus spoke again, his voice was closer, in the room with her. “Maybe we did it too early.” He offered softly.

Lucy sighed heavily, scooping up the tests and dropping them in the trash can with a loud thunk. This was the first time they’d tried actually taking tests—the first failure had come in the form of her menstrual cycle—and she had hoped for the kind of excitement that happened in movies all the time where the couple takes the test and see the positive result and cry in each other’s arms; that was a sham.

“Hey, hey,” He seemed to pick up on her mood shift immediately, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders. “It’s probably just too early. Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time.”

“Plenty of time? Marcus, you only have like forty days before your surgery. I thought this would be easier. Like…I know that people struggle with this stuff all the time but we’ve also been having a lot of unprotected sex. How could one of those times not have taken?”

He maneuvered her body to face him, his hands returning to her shoulders where he continued to squeeze reassuringly. “Sometimes it just takes time, remember? Don’t get so stressed out, it doesn’t help.”

“It’s hard not to be stressed when your clock is running out.”

There was a long silence between them before he perked up. “Let’s go out tonight. Blow off some steam, have some drinks. It’ll be good for the both of us.”

Lucy shook her head. “We’re not supposed to drink, remember?”

He rolled his eyes. “One night won’t hurt us, I promise. We both need to relax a little.”

For a moment, she thought about it. What could it hurt to have some fun for one night? If the stress was already ruining things for them, then alcohol could only help, right? If it loosened her up and made her less stressed, that had to help a bit. Perhaps it was a good idea.

Finally, she caved. “Okay, okay. Let’s go out.”

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Lucy couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped her as they stumbled into her apartment a few hours later. She was lingering somewhere between tipsy and fully drunk, feeling good after a night drinking away her worries; they weren’t supposed to drink while trying to conceive, at least according to all the research, but it had been nice to unwind after feeling so stressed out. Stress wasn’t good for conceiving either, so she figured alcohol wouldn’t hurt this once.

Marcus, who was equally feeling the effects of the alcohol, locked the door behind them and ushered her into the kitchen. He immediately went for the cabinet he knew housed her glasses and pulled one down, filling it with water from the faucet and taking a gulp before handing it to her.

Even wasted he was a gentleman.

Their eyes locked over the rim of the glass as she drank and she slowly lowered the glass to the countertop, eyes never leaving his. The silence was palpable, the tension in the room so thick she could cut it with a knife if she wanted to. She reached for him and he met her halfway, their mouths meeting in a searing kiss.

His hands were all over her as hers bunched in his shirt, their tongues tangling, and Lucy was reminded once again that she wasn’t as good at keeping things casual as she would have preferred. She wondered if he felt the same or if this was easier for him.

He trailed kissed down her jaw and neck, nipping at her skin gently and soothing over the spots with a flick of his tongue as she panted, a whimper escaping her as he sucked lightly on that sensitive spot beneath her ear.

He didn’t stop there. He pressed kisses to her collarbone and then her chest, moving lower until he was kneeling in front of her. His hands brushed against the skin of her thighs and slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, his eyes turning up to meet hers as he pushed the fabric until it was bunched around her hips.

She gasped as his lips pressed against her inner thigh, light as a feather as he trailed kisses upwards. In all the time they’d spent together, they hadn’t done this—they’d been more focused on getting straight to the point—and she felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest.

Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, his eyes on hers once again as he began to drag them down her hips and thighs until they fell to pool around her ankles. She stepped out of them, kicking them aside as she gripped the edge of the counter in anticipation. She was already soaked.

His hand gripped underneath her left knee and he lifted the leg to hook it over his shoulder. His eyes finally left hers as he began trailing kisses up her leg from her knee until he reached the spot she wanted him most. There was a moment of pause as he seemed to take her in, before he leaned forward and dragged his tongue through her folds in one smooth stroke, ending at the bundle of nerves, which he circled slowly with the tip of his tongue.

Lucy gasped, one hand leaving the counter to thread her fingers through his hair. Her eyes fell closed as she relished the feeling.

He certainly knew what he was doing as he got to work, and before long she was moaning breathlessly as she clung to him. She canted her hips slowly against his mouth, and she wasn’t sure which she liked more: his tongue on her clit or when his tongue trailed further down and his nose rubbed against it just right.

Her right leg was shaking as it tried to support her weight as she verged on the edge, her body was on fire. She wanted to ask how he’d gotten so good at this, but she didn’t want to think about the women in his past too much either.

His tongue flicked her clit once more before his mouth closed around it and he sucked lightly. It was all it took to send her over the precipice with a whine. Her fingers tugged on his hair and she struggled to stay upright, and he gripped her hips to keep her standing as he lapped at her center and slowly brought her down from her high.

“Shit.”

Marcus chuckled against her, pulling away to look up at her once more; his face was shiny from her wetness, and he licked his lips before wiping his face on the back of his hand as he stood.

She reached for him, pulling his mouth back to hers for a kiss, tasting herself on him. That had definitely sobered her up. She could feel his hardness pressing against her hip and although her legs were shaking, the release sent a thrill through her and she reached down to quickly undo his belt.

Perhaps he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, or maybe going down on her had sent him into a frenzy like some kind of shark, because he gripped her hips and turned her around to face the other way. As her hands landed on the countertop, she could hear his belt jingling and then the unzipping of his pants. Her teeth bit into the pillow of her bottom lip in anticipation, still amped up from her high.

The rustling of fabric told her he’d freed himself, and then his hands were on her hips; he pushed the skirt of her dress up higher and stepped closer, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down her spine. There seemed to be a moment of hesitation and then he asked with a raspy voice: “Is this okay?”

It was something she found she really loved about him—he had already brought her to orgasm with his tongue and they’d had sex numerous times, but he was still asking if it was okay to take her from behind. Anyone else would have laughed, but she found it to be very attractive.

“Yes.” She replied, barely over a whisper at the thought of what was to come.

He nudged her feet further apart with one of his and then she felt the tip of him brushing through her folds. She leaned forward over the counter more and angled her hips better and then he was pushing forward slowly until he was fully seated inside her.

She moaned softly at the feeling, pressing back against him.

Marcus pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent as he remained still for a moment as if he was collecting himself, or maybe gathering the strength to continue. Then, ever so slowly, he withdrew until just the tip was left inside of her. He paused again, adjusted his grip on her hips, and then thrust forward quickly to fill her completely. He repeated the motion several times until he was pounding into her.

She wasn’t quite sure how he managed to be gentle and rough at the same time, and the pace he had chosen surprised her; not that she didn’t think he had it in him, but that it was new. If it stole the breath from her lungs, she wasn’t complaining. He mouthed at her neck and shoulder, where the thin strap of her dress had fallen down her arm. The contrast between the gentle grazing of his teeth on her skin and the brutal thrusts inside her had her weak in the knees.

“Fuck.” She moaned, doubling over to press her forehead to the countertop, relishing in the cool surface against her heated skin.

Marcus’s hands were gripping her hips tightly, his own hips meeting her backside over and over and creating a delicious noise that echoed off the kitchen tiles, the grunts and groans spilling from his lips matched her own. One of his hands smoothed up her back and he gripped her shoulder, angling his hips on the next thrust and pulling her back against him.

Lucy’s breath left her again in a string of moans as the new angle hit perfectly every time.

“Stop that racket!” a voice shouted from the other side of the wall, along with a fist pounding.

She couldn’t help but laugh at her neighbor, an elderly man who made tons of noise but hated when anyone else made even a peep. She heard Marcus chuckling behind her, but the intrusion only seemed to spur him on and his hips smacked harder against hers. It had her moaning louder, and she realized that had been his intention all along.

Though she probably wouldn’t admit it, she liked that he wanted to antagonize her neighbor.

The hand that had been at her shoulder slid down her side and around her front, dipping between her legs to circle her clit with the pads of his fingers. As she reached to grip the edge of the counter, her arm knocked into the forgotten glass of water and sent it tumbling to the floor where it surprisingly didn’t shatter. Neither one of them paid it any mind as their releases approached rapidly.

The neighbor was pounding on the wall again, but it was doing him more harm than good as the sounds echoed louder against the tiles.

“I am going to call the landlord!” the elderly man yelled on the other side.

“S-So call them!” Lucy shouted back, just as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. If the neighbor hadn’t made such a big deal, she would have tried to stifle her moans, but instead she lifted her head from where it had been resting on the countertop and let him hear it just because she knew it would infuriate him.

Marcus’s face was buried in her neck and his warm breath huffed against her skin as he laughed at her reaction. His movements were frantic, desperate, as he chased his own release and it didn’t take long for him to stiffen behind her. He pressed his body close to hers and groaned into her ear as he filled her.

They were still for a long moment, panting as they came down.

“I don’t think your neighbor likes you.” He joked, pressing a kiss to her neck.

Lucy laughed out loud, knowing it would also annoy the man in question. “I don’t really care.” She shrugged the shoulder his head wasn’t resting against.

“I’ll leave earbuds on his doormat.”

“No, let him listen. It’s probably the most action he’s gotten in decades.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a Tuesday night two weeks later that it happens. She’s reorganizing her bathroom purely due to boredom and she stumbles across a box of pregnancy tests. She peeked inside and felt her heart race a little; there was one test left.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she pulled the test out and debated using it. They had been keeping up with their schedule, meeting at his place minus a couple of times when they really wanted to annoy her neighbor. Even though the three tests she’d taken two weeks ago had been negative, it didn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant then. False negatives happened all the time if the test was taken too early.

Maybe now is the right time.

She ripped the plastic wrapper off the test and moved to the toilet, glad she hadn’t used the bathroom yet. As she finished and set the test on the sink so she could wash her hands, she glanced up at herself in the mirror.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Luce.” She whispered to herself. She knew if it came back negative, which it more than likely would, it would only hurt more.

She had to step out of the room because she knew it would only make the minutes go by slower. What was that saying? A watched pot never boils? So, a watched pregnancy test never develops? She moved to the kitchen to start putting away the dishes in the dishwasher. By the time she finished, five minutes had passed.

It was time.

“Shit.” She whispered to herself, shuffling nervously towards the bathroom.

What was she going to do if it was negative? Marcus didn’t have much time left, if it wasn’t going to happen then that would break both their hearts.

But what if it was positive? It was what they’d wanted all along, but she couldn’t help but feel her stomach flip with nerves at the idea that all their efforts had paid off. It wasn’t because she didn’t want a baby, but because she did.

The test was sitting upright on the counter, all it would take was for her to step forward and she’d know. One step forward. It was just one step.

Knowing if she didn’t do it now, she’d never do it, she stepped forward quickly and snatched the test up, lifting it to stare down at the tiny plastic window.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

It was positive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I didn’t add pregnancy on the list of warnings because I didn’t want to spoil it. But also, if you are reading a fic that is specifically about getting pregnant, that is kind of a given.

Tag list: (strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you)

@absurdthirst @meanperegrine @hopeamarsu @bison-writes @giselatropicana @melispunk @hnt-escape @cheekygeek05 @bluemoon-glen @star-wars-hell @lawfulgranola @underwaterwonderscapes @words-way-of-life @kesskirata @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @nicolethered @fangirl-316 @finnisrioting @janelongxox @hellovanessax @a-trial-run-on-paper @christina-loves @moonlightburned @generallybrontidefeelings @shakespeareanwannabe @griscka75 @neganwifey25-blog @tacticalsparkles @daffodin @fastandfeminist @valentinasubmarina @a-skov @ptutts @librariantothejedi @janebby @redsilentwolf28 @tuskens-mando @spideysimpossiblegirl @skeletonstwins 

Please let me know if you would like to be added to (or removed from) the tag list!

[wnnbdarklord]

EDIT: so I started writing this like a week ago, but honestly the finale killed any desire in me to interact with this show in a fannish way. So have these half assed notes. I think it's obvious where I lost steam. These ideas are free for use for anyone who wants them in fic, have at you. As it is, I don't think I'll interact with this show as a fan any further than this.

How I would write a Loki show in bullet points (and a mishmash of short scenes and dialogue, let's be honest) for my sanity!

Presuming some disney exec came down from on high and forced the inclusion of EG!Loki and the TVA (because otherwise it'd be IW!Loki that survived and it'd be all about him finding his best life away from Earth, Asgard, Thor and the whole Thanos/EG situation. Or if I only had to include the TVA, it'd be IW!Loki dealing with the TVA, not EG!Loki):

Fair warning: this will likely be a mess since I'm not entirely motivated to not have it be so. 

[cut for length]

Ep1:

- Loki escapes to Nidavelir and uses the tools there to get rid of the chains and muzzle. A CONTROLLED use of the Tesseract, thankyouverymuch

- the TVA comes for him and Loki is wary and on the alert, exhausted from the whole Avengers thing so he immediately makes a clone to interact with the TVA and observes from afar

- the TVA fall for it when they try to bitchslap him like in the show, but immediately regroup when it goes through the illusion and start a search pattern. Their tech can scan for his temporal aura and they close in on Loki quickly (show the TVA as at least somewhat competent or they're shit antagonists for Loki)

- Loki, who still has hold of the Tesseract, portals out of there

- what follows is a quick chase scene across multiple planets and realms, but the TVA are always on his heels. The longest time they take to find him is during an ongoing apocalypse on a random planet that's enough for Loki to get a quick breather. but you know, disaster's on the horizon, so he has to leave eventually. but this is the first clue both we as an audience and Loki get about potential hiding places.

- when an exhausted Loki finally turns to fight, he manages to take several minutemen out  (justifying B-15's hate on for him) before one of them gets in a lucky shot and freezes him

- "Who are you people?" [short flash of Loki's eyes flashing green and the entire scene getting a strange cast, floating energy swirling around everything. It's beautiful, but the TVA people's energy is out of sync, out of touch and strangely jagged compared to their surroundings]

- they slap the collar on him and march him into the TVA

- Loki immediately tries to pull the same illusion trick but it doesn't work cause no magic in the TVA (maybe some visual indication of what he's trying to do, but it doesn't go past his skin. You know, like Sylvie managed in ep 3 -.-)

- he doesn't wildly panic, but we see his breathing speed up and he immediately looks at his left hand and relaxes when he sees it isn't turning blue. 

- okay so the TVA have caught him, he's on their shit list, no magic, exhausted, no idea what's going on, who these people are or how powerful they are - he chooses to play nice for now and bide his time

- the whole intake process is spent in quiet observation mode, only speaking when spoken to

- discomfort at being out of his clothes, but maybe only a wry joke about them wanting to strip him naked (making him a participant in all the thirst jokes)

- he doesn't ask if a lot of people don't know they're robots like a child wanting validation and he's not visibly afraid. Instead, we see him look at his hand again and try for wry humor when asking. But he steps into the device without much hesitation. It's death vs certainty and we already know he's chosen death once before.

- the propaganda cartoon is much shorter and plays in the background so we can see Loki's incredulous eyebrow raise at it. the ticket thing gets an eyeroll, but ready compliance since it's not worth it to argue

- when he sees the other guy get "pruned", he immediately reaches for the ticket to reassure himself it's there, but doesn't wave it around triumphantly, just sighs in relief

- trial can stay mostly unchanged, just no stupid magic attempt in the middle

"It's not your story, Mr. Laufeyson, it never was" (AND THIS SHALL BE PROVEN FALSE, you know, unlike in the show where it turned out to be their fucking mission statement) also, Loki gives her murder eyes for calling him that

- in fact, instead of trying magic, Loki holds up the controller he stole from  B-15 as she was escorting him to the trial and waves as he disappears through a door backwards

After that scene is the church scene with bodies, establishing Mobius as a hunter of dangerous variants. Someone is killing TVA officers

Mobius gets called back as in canon, but arrives too late to stop our Loki from leaving

Sidenote: Loki still has the tesseract since it was in his pocket dimension during the fight the TVA nabbed him in

Ep 2:

- it's now a few days/weeks later. Loki is back in his own clothes, a simpler outfit not geared for war. He's in the biggest library in the universe, the depository of almost all knowledge, looking for information about the TVA. there is Nothing, suspiciously so

- once again, the TVA shows up and he has to run yet again. maybe he kills this team too, to buy himself more time. he steals a melt stick and more time pads and reset charges

- he needs more information and the only place he'll get it is at the TVA it seems, so he shapeshifts into his female form, dressed as one of the many paperpushers at the TVA and we see her being relieved that the spelled clothing is holding once she passes through the time door

(another aside, but ideally the female form is more like Eva Green or Katie McGrath. AND NOT BLONDE)

- acting like she belongs, Loki effortlessly manages to snoop around the TVA for a few hours

- there's only one close call with C-20, but Loki manages to deflect suspicion by parroting the motto at her, which Loki reads from a nearby propaganda poster (cause Loki is good at lying, manipulation and flying by the seat of their pants)

- eventually, she ends up at the archive area and begins researching. We see that Loki is competent at this and is quick to pick up the filing system. the variant number from the papers she signed the episode before becomes relevant to finding the appropriate files

- before she can dig too deep into her own life story as laid out by these people, just as she finds the Ragnarok Report, Mobius finds her (maybe there was a silent alarm triggered by unauthorized access or something. Slightly more competent TVA)

- there is a scene where Mobius and Loki play a game of chicken and manipulation, wordplay and lying until it becomes clear Mobius knows who Loki is (actually establishing some camaraderie)

- Loki gets a little hoisted by their own petard since they're enjoying the banter so much, the backup Mobius called for catches them a little off guard, collared again

- since info gathering is still the name of the game, Loki doesn't try to get away just yet

(during this entire scene, Mobius is the same offhandedly condescending prick he is in canon, but it's very obviously framed that way)

(also featuring confirmation of the genderfluidity thing because fuck you disney)

M: "Nice disguise. Really had me fooled for a second there."

L: "It's hardly a disguise. I am always myself."

[Loki shifts back to male, though the clothes remain the same (shifting =/= magic)]

M: "Yeah, well, next time you want to go undercover at the TVA, maybe don't choose a face we already have from several other of your variants."

[Loki twitches a little, since that wasn't a form he openly wore a lot (even when he wanted to) cause Asgard is a dick about shifting genders] 

L: "And how does that work exactly?"

M: "Got your entire life on file, buddy. But you know, sometimes Asgard isn't a complete stick in the mud the day you gather enough courage to show up to dinner in a dress. We usually have to prune those timelines quickly."

[Loki's grin is more like a snarl, frozen on his face, since he picks up the implications loud and clear (the implication being that him being too happy is not allowed in the Sacred Timeline)]

M: [picks up the files Loki was looking at] "Come on, I've got something to show you."

-cue time theater scene

-that little scene of looking out at the TVA does not feature Loki being impressed or awed at the TVA's tech. It features him being scared/uneasy because the TVA is completely dead to his senses. Loki's eyes do the same flash as before, but everything is completely dull, no energy anywhere. He can barely see some swirls on his own arms]

-Loki asks why this charade, Mobius tells him the TVA is willing to come to an agreement with Loki for his help

"You're not the only one running around messing up the Sacred Timeline. Come on, job interview time."

(it's really really not)

- Mobius tries the same schtick as before, but it's both less and more effective. Less cause Loki has had a bit more time to collect himself since the invasion, more cause he's more aware of the TVA's power and has been chased by them for a while now

- we see Loki being affected by the Frigga thing BUT he also picks up how edited the reel is

- still, he lets Mobius do the "only thing you're good for" bit until we see him look up with murder in his eyes, even through the tears

- "I am going to burn this place to the ground and I am going to start with you. That is my bargain."

"Yeah, cause your "bargains" [Mobius full on air quotes here] work out so well for you," he says, offering Loki a hand up

-cue alarm and Mobius rushing out

-Loki grabs the files Mobius left behind, and also the tape in the hologram projector and escapes

- no infinity stones scene, cause Loki still has the Tesseract and doesn't go to look for more

- cut to the TVA running around in a panic, multiple branches forming on the displays. It's the same bombing plot as in the show, but now serving as a distraction for Loki to get away

- when they figure this out, Ravonna: "You should have just pruned him when you found him. There's a reason we don't reset Loki variants. Our luck always runs out eventually with them. Fix this, Mobius. Or you'll have to answer to the TimeKeepers."

- back to Loki, he steps out into chaos as something explodes behind him. He's in another apocalypse. During his running from the TVA, he noticed it takes them longer to find him whenever there's a lot of chaos around him, death and destruction. He finds a still intact building, seems high tech. Everyone else has already evacuated

- he takes the Tesseract out and blue and green energy surges around him and engulfs the building. It's suddenly quiet and we see outside the windows are pitch black 

- Loki quickly looks away

"Finally, some peace and quiet."

He slumps down to the floor, files scattered around him, tesseract nearby and curls up, dejected and exhausted 

Side note: Loki doesn't need to worry about recharging tempads since he has the tesseract, which was established in Avengers as able to provide infinite energy

Ep 3:

- he finds out about the variants in this episode, maybe goes looking for other variants before the TVA finds them

-how Loki finds out the TVA are all variants: he'd knocked out B-15 for a bit to interrogate her

-they're found by another team of minutemen, led by B-16, who is wearing B-15's face. Several of the other minutemen we've seen Loki kill in earlier episodes as well. They attack *both* of them cause they assume B-15 is compromised. Loki and B-15 work together and kill the whole lot, staring at each other incredulously

"You're Variants! You're all Variants!"

[B-15 collapses to her knees in shock] 

End episode

EDIT: My basic idea for episodes 4 & 5 were Loki and B-15 working together and travelling through various timelines trying to get to the TimeKeepers, but realizing something was wrong the further they went. Time begins breaking down, paradoxes are all over the place and the TVA keeps pruning some specific place so much that sometimes two teams are on top of each other. Stuff like that. 

I also had a few scenes where Loki meets other variants (that aren't him), but who actually like and even love him. Men, women, variations thereupon, and one or two who would mistake Loki for their Loki. So we get bi confirmation without actually including romance in the show itself, because 6 episodes isn't enough to develop that along with everything else that's going on.

Vaguely outlined here: 

My "how to include the bi thing without the main story being a romance and also indicating that Loki is able to be liked and loved by people who aren't just variants of himself, please and thank you":

(note to self, rewrite this so it makes sense lol EDIT: lol, don't feel like it so this is all you get, folks!) 

a variant significant other, male: kisses Loki

Loki: You are clearly my type, but I'm sorry. I'm not him.

[heartbroken expression on the variant]

from another timeline Loki visits:

woman holding a sword to his head after looking at him suspiciously: Change back!

Loki: Into who?!

woman: Her!

[Loki shapeshifts into his female self]

woman lets go of the sword

"You escaped! When Odin took you away, I thought he would kill you. Why did you never come back to me, my love?"

EDIT: My "twist" ending was that the Time Keepers were dead, not that they never existed. Some sort of mcguffin exists to just break the whole TVA and free the timelines. Idk, maybe the TVA was just a test to see if it'd work, but the system just kept perpetuating itself after the power hungry losers kept it going beyond the bounds of the experiment. Either way: 

villain plot twist: the time keepers are long dead. the TVA is a terrible system that perpetuated itself on its own, only a few judges were aware that the timekeepers had ever died. The entire System Has To Go (lol like disney would ever go there)

The system is literally Killing the Universe, since the universe's natural state of being is a multiverse. But the system don't care, system don't give a shit. System only exists to perpetuate itself, system's survival is the most important, catastrophic universal failure need not apply

(this is way too on the nose for disney, but since this rewrite's motto is Fuck Disney, it shall stay)

EDIT: this was how I imagined the climax of the series.

Mobius or Ravonna (i never decided): "All the chaos, all the possibilities? How can you stand the uncertainty? How can you believe the world will be any better than it is now?"

Loki: "Because it has to be!" [smashy smashy TVA]

series ends with the timeline breaking free

we see various scenes of the variants in their former lives, happy

and AU scenes of the previous movies:

Loki gets pulled up on the bridge

Loki accepts Thor's offer during the Avengers

Loki gets up on Svartalfheim, bleeding heavily, but doesn't go to Asgard but to Thor

Loki tricks Thanos during IW

Loki as an Avenger

Loki as a kid

Loki as a girl

Loki on jotunheim, fully jotun

Loki on Asgard, jotun

faster and faster, all sorts of different AU scenes until the screen goes dark and we see our Loki, smirking

"But...well, those are stories for another time."

and he steps back into the shadows.

[jennsmischievousmind]

Chaos Therapy

Session #2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You were assigned to a field mission, with particulars co-agents, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. One mission turned into multiples. After each missions you are debriefed by a therapist, Dr Noach just as Sam and Bucky. Thing is, they don’t know that you are much more than an agent.

Warnings: pining, bit of angst, Buck/Sam bickering, violence (fights against enemies), mild swearing (still real bad at warnings)

Published: 2021-02-21 Completed: 2021-03-30

Mumbling your floor to the AI, you tried to relax but the door not closing triggered you. Hearing voices coming your way you understood.

“I don’t get it tincan, you got the new arm, the new haircut loosen up,” Sam Wilson came into view followed by Barnes, you would have never thought yet you got star-struck by his intense gaze when it locked on yours – Wilson got oddly silent for a second his look bouncing between the two of you until Barnes looked away and faced the door.

Wilson snorted “Guess we won’t talk about what just happened,” a smirk growing on his face.

Rolling your eyes you resumed your attention on the elevator transparent walls. Until you caught yourself glancing at Bucky’s back, inevitably your look followed his left shoulder to his metal well, vibranium arm, unfortunately, you could only see his wrist and hand. It’s not like you had studied all of the late Mr Stark’s researches on his previous metal arm and Wakanda’s report on the new appendage... The few golden lines you could see were mesmerizing, fingers itching to trace them you quickly shook your head remembering where you were. The elevator finally stopped at your level.

"Meeting at 6, briefing in the jet." You declared trying to focus on the mission at hand, accidentally brushing Barnes' left arm as you exit.

You were about to apologize but Sam intervened "Okay boss"

Smiling you lifted an eyebrow "I'm not your boss, but keep that in mind just in case."

You kept your eyes on Wilson who was nodding at your answer appreciating your repartee until the door was inches too close your eyes shifted to Barnes'. His eyes already on you.

“Fuck! You’re a professional for Stark’s sake, get a grip!” getting angry at yourself you head for the cave.

_

"Can you tell me more about the actual mission you had?'"

"It’s classified."

"Alright," she smirks "I see here that you had to use your field agent training? "

“Affirmative ma’am!”

"Weren't you supposed to assist and use your shadow IT skills,"

"Also, affirmative,"

“So, what happened?”

_

Tactical gears, the best part of field missions, hands skimming the gears sprawled out on the metal table, you couldn't wait.

‘You won’t be wearing that actually," the technician kicked you off your reverie, you frowned "Casual clothes, Kevlar under it, one gun, that’s it.”

The deceive expression didn’t escape the attention of the techs around the table. “It’s not always big guns and expensive gear”

“Yeah, I get that. Great…” you grabbed the gun and the Kevlar. Ready to meet your co-agents at the hangar. They were by the jet reviewing things with the techs.

“Agent Wilson, Agent Barnes.” You rearranged your top over your kevlar,

“Ok, hold on, please call me Sam,’

“Alright, then call me Y/N or boss.” he chuckled at your saying.

“This is tincan,” his thumb pointed to Barnes

"Uh" squinting at Sam, surprised by the verbal jab, you were unable to form any words.

Bucky sighed, throwing his bag in a corner of the jet “Your record is scratched, Wilson”

“Newsflash. We don’t use records anymore Buck!”

You stayed silent watching them bicker on the jet's ramp, taking mental notes. Bucky's jaw clenching every now and then, the never-ending smirk of Sam. How and why did anyone think it was a good idea to team them up?

“I already miss my cave.” You mumbled and passed by them, they both looked at you as you made your way in the tactic jet.

The briefing went smoothly, oddly, although seeing Barnes in tactical gear didn't leave you indifferent. Your mind yelling to get a grip while your eyes roam his geared up body. Now you had a full view of his vibranium arm, he caught you once or twice looking intently at it, each time you felt bad you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable or anything.

Few hours later, spent meditating and reviewing the mission in your head, avoiding the guys, avoiding Bucky, you ended up on one of the New Singapore islands. The tactic jet retreats back as soon as you three touched the ground.

“I go first, you come in after I made sure the target’s in, Buck in standby”

“Yeah, we know,” Bucky spoke, you could hear the exasperation in his voice.

Sam smirked at Bucky before rounding the corner leading to the underground club. There you were alone with Bucky Barnes.

"Are you two always like that?" you leaned on the concrete wall behind you.

He was standing straight, hands on his tactical belt "What'd you mean by that?" you tried not to stare as his look remained forward.

"Tough love and all.." your teasing voice made him glance your way. He hid a smirk and fully turned to you taking a step forward. “We’re working on that,” it was your turn to hide a smirk, and you thanked the dark alley for hiding the dusted red that had reached your neck at his closeness.

Minutes later Sam had called in the comm. Getting through the crowd you reached the bar where Sam was, clubs, forsaken places. He nodded at the back of the club where he had seen the target get out.

Making your way to the hidden office in the back, the dark and the loud music were your allies, scanning the room with one of the few gadgets you were allowed to have you were relieved to find it empty of human forms.

“Ok, 15 minutes” you called out in the comm’. Forcing the door, you look behind you before sliding it shut. Rummaging the all room you finally find the old metal case.

“I got the codes,” you were supposed to analyse them on site and then destroyed them but when you didn’t hear any of them answered you stopped “Sam?” silence “Barnes?” a distant crash followed by howls caught your attention.

“Y/N GET OUT!” Bucky's voice rang into your comm' not missing a beat you grabbed the case, slide the door open ready to run to the backdoor. “Oh!” you stopped dead in your tracks, a large man about 6 feet tall blocked the door. He eyed the case in your hand, you shrugged.

Pouncing on you, you easily dodged him as he was so slow, you ran to the main room instead, only to find Sam and Bucky fighting against a bunch of dudes.

“Subtle mission my ass,” you muttered to yourself, Watching them, you were genuinely interested in the two Avengers' fighting skills, missing the big guy coming behind you.

Grabbing your middle, trapping your arms against your body he lifted you as if you were a feather. Quickly refocusing you hooked your feet to his calve, balancing your weight against him he started to wobble backwards, his arms slipping up past your chest allowing you to elbow his floating ribs multiple times. He finally let go groaning, you took this time to kick his knee, he whaled staying down. Seeing the boys were still fighting and enemies still coming in you joined them. Back to back with both of them holding your ground.

“Buck you wanna clear the path” Sam snickered.

"Sure if you've got a great idea in mind involving your chicken wings go ahead," Buck retorted earning a death stare from Sam.

"I'm really deliberating leaving you here with them right now," you checked your gun’s mag.

"And how do you plan on getting out?"

“Close your eyes” the boys followed your request without any doubt.

You activated your anti-flash lenses with a press on your temple. Launching the tiny flashbang on the ground it exploded blinding everyone around you. Since the guys couldn’t open their eyes yet and you could clearly see the path you grabbed them both by the wrists and pulled them out, they ran behind you blindly for less than a minute until you reached the outside, stopping in the nearest alley.

The place was loud with cries, smokes evading the place brushing the neon lights creating a halo of blurred colours. Lost in the moment, the adrenaline rushing out you felt your right hand becoming colder in an instant, a low whirring and vibration coming from the vibranium wrist you were holding soothed your racing heart.

Sam had already escaped your grasp to check on the escape route. Quickly removing your hold you glanced at Bucky to make sure he wasn't uncomfortable but his face showed a different emotion. His gaze remained on his wrist where a second ago your warm hand was, brow knitted yet his look was soft, he clenched his fist and released it, he snapped out of it when an explosion occurred in the club. Time to run.

“If I knew we were about to run so much I wouldn’t have worn my best suit!” Sam argued, your lips curved into a smile at his annoyed voice.

In the jet safe and sound you tried to work on the codes but the two supposed-to-be grown-ups you work with were arguing about how the mission went wrong. Eventually, you tuned them out and send the files to the intelligence.

After giving back your gear to the assistant waiting for you in the hangar you turned to your co-agents.

“That was fun!” Sam tossed his suit jacket upon his shoulder “we should team up more often”

You scoffed “I don’t know about that”. Bucky came down the ramp his gear in hands, your jaw clenched at the way he looked so effortlessly good, it ignited something in you and you thought why the hell am I fighting this.

“Sam, Barnes,” you bowed your head slightly heading to the quarters' area, already writing the reports in your head, before needy thoughts cloud your mind.

“Bucky, it’s Bucky,” he called out, you spun fully, walking backwards “Bucky,” you spoke softly, the corner of your mouth quirked up, eyes entirely focused on him, his didn’t waver either. Rounded a crate disappearing from their view you bit your lower lips.

Sam nudged Bucky’s shoulder "When I said to loosen up, I didn't imply crushing on our new teammate,"

"Shut up,"

_

“And it was the first official mission with them?”

“Yes ma’am, … the intelligence thought the mission was a success, somehow. Against what I thought, they decided to team us up again,”

She nods, your answer exactly what she wanted to hear, she cuts the recorder.

“All is going well then” she closes her tablet, undoing the first button of her shirt feeling stuffy.

“I’ll be able to give you something more tangible in a few missions,”

SESSION #3

MASTERLIST

Published: 2021-02-21 Completed: 2021-03-30

I will be tagging Chaos Therapy now, since some of you might filter the TFATWS tags to avoid spoilers.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Monsters  -  Four

Pairing: Dark!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a man who just wants to do better. But he can’t stop the monster from coming out every now and then. As a last and hopeless attempt at calming The Winter Soldier, SHIELD finds him something they figured would help. An innocent young woman with not a lot going for her. Or, The Winter Soldiers newest victim.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Language, Fluff, Sickness, Minor Injuries, Trigger warning kinda but not as bad as the last chapter

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: here you go! I say fuck a posting schedule lol

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!

~*~

You sleep for a long time.

Nearly three days.

Bucky grows increasingly worried with each day that goes by that you don’t open your eyes. It gets to the point where he’s tempted to call a doctor, but he has no idea how he would explain it to them.

You finally wake up, in the afternoon of the third day, and Bucky is so relieved he could cry.

“Hey,” he whispers, helping you sit up when he sees you start to struggle. You look around curiously, confused until your eyes land on the gauze wrapped around your arms.

You look up at him, bottom lip wobbling, and he shakes his head, shushing you.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.” During the days when you were unconscious, it was a struggle to keep the soldier at bay. He won the fight every night though, the guilt weighing heavier than the desire to fuck.

“Why didn't you let me die?” You whimper, sorrow in your eyes. He rests his forehead against your shoulder and sighs.

“You called me a monster, and I got mad because I didn’t want you to be right. And then I proved your point. I just... the monster is there, inside of me. I can usually keep him at bay but... I know it’s not an excuse, and I may never make it up to you, but I didn’t want to hurt you the way that I did. I... it’s like I wasn’t in control of my own hands.” You don’t reply, keeping your eyes on your arms.

“I’m gonna go make you some soup. You’ve been asleep for three days. You need to eat. And drink. Okay?” You nod glumly, still emotionally numb as your mind tries to block out everything that happened.

Bucky’s only gone for a few minutes before he returns with a steaming bowl of soup and a plastic cup full of water. He hands you the water first, and your hands shake as you grab it. You take a small sip the grimace as your stomach flips.

“I know you probably don’t want to, but you’ve gotta eat just a little bit. Okay?” You nod and let him spoon feed you the soup. It’s good. Chicken noodle, from what you can tell, but no matter how good it tastes or how warm it feels going down, your stomach doesn’t want it.

You gag, hand coming up to cover your mouth, and Bucky curses, putting the soup on the side table and grabbing you in his arms. He rushes into the bathroom but he’s not fast enough. What little you ate comes rushing back up, spewing out of your mouth and all over yourself and a little on him.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying not to get too grossed out.

Your head lolls back, eyes rolling as a dizzy spell overwhelms you. He sets you down carefully on the counter, peeling the sweater off of you and tossing it into the hamper in the corner. You take shallow breaths, body aching.

He turns the shower on then rids himself of his clothes before doing the same to you. The two of you are naked in no time, and then he’s bringing you into the shower, the water a little too cool for your liking, but you don’t have it in you to complain.

He holds you upright, hands supporting your weight as the water pelts down on the two of you. You feel like everything is spinning, so you lay your head against his chest and take deep breaths in through your mouth. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and rubs your back gently.

“You’re okay.” He grabs a loofa and squirts some body wash on it, then starts gently washing your body.

His actions are innocent enough until he gets between your legs. It’s like you can sense the switch when he goes from Bucky to Soldier.

His hands grip you just a little firmer, his breathing is a little harder, his eyes dark and slightly glazed over. He pushes you against the wall gingerly, and you’re surprised by how gentle he’s being.

He hikes your legs up, one knee held over each of his arms. You lie there, half-conscious as the water rains down on you.

He slides his cock through your folds a few times before impaling you, stretching you on his thick length. He grunts softly in your ear, muttering softly in Russian as he fucks you. His thrusts aren't rough and hard, they’re long and precise, each one making your cunt instinctively clench on him.

You keep your eyes closed, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep, but he keeps fucking you until he cums, spilling inside of you with a low groan. He stays sheathed inside of you, palms splayed on the tile by your hips, and you close your eyes tightly as another dizzy spell hits you.

He sighs and you know that Bucky is back. He pulls out of you and carefully lowers you to the ground before picking you up again and taking you out of the shower. He sits you on the counter once more, turns the shower off, then dries your body with a fluffy grey towel.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. You don’t reply. You don’t think you could speak if you wanted to. Your head won’t stop spinning.

He picks you up and brings you into his room again, laying you down on the bed and tucking you in. “I’m gonna go get you a garbage can, in case you need to go again,” he whispers, smoothing your hair around your face.

Your eyes are already closed and he sighs, hating the fact that he caused this. What’s worse, is that the soldier took over while he was trying to make it up to you. He took advantage of your vulnerable state.

He sets a new cup of water on the nightstand and a garbage can on the floor, hoping that you get better soon.

~*~

You do.

It’s nearly two weeks of consuming next to no food or water and throwing up multiple times a day, but you eventually start recovering, and for that, he couldn’t be more grateful.

You’re sitting in his bed, sipping on some tea, when he comes into the room.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, hand resting on your knee through the blanket. You shrug, not meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to apologize enough.” You shrug again.

“I can tell.” He’s confused and you sigh, “I can tell when it’s not you. When it’s... him.” He raises his eyebrows and you look down, chewing your bottom lip for a moment before you muster up enough courage to speak.

“When... when you touch me... it’s softer. You might say mean things, but your hands don’t squeeze too hard. And when it’s him touching me... he holds me really really tight.” He raises his eyebrows, having had no idea that that was a thing.

“So I know when it’s you and when it’s him. And I know that you haven’t touched me since...” you trail off and he nods, scratching the nape of his neck. “It wasn’t all me,” he whispers again, trying to explain himself. “It was me at first, but then... it’s like he was controlling me.” You nod, not looking up.

“I don’t remember all of it, but I know your voice sounded different. Angrier.” He cups your cheek gently, cursing himself when you flinch away.

“Since then I haven’t been nearly as bad,” he whispers. “I can tell. The soldier... when he comes now he’s more gentle. He’s not nearly as rough as before.” He nods, happy that this is at least working.

You lean back against the headboard and close your eyes, exhausted beyond belief.

“It’s gonna take some time for you to heal up fully, but you’re making great progress. In a few days, you’ll be eating solid’s again. And then you’ll be up and walking around again.” You nod, eager to be healthy again.

He looks from your eyes to your lips, then back down, licking his lips.

“When I picked you... I didn't think they’d really go through with it. I thought it would’ve been another plan that never got to see the light of day. But then you were here and... I... I was in shock. You’re even more beautiful in person. And you’re so strong and resilient.” You look up, eyes finding his pretty pink lips.

“I know I haven’t been good to you, but can I please kiss you?” You nod meekly, eyes fluttering closed as he presses his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

It’s everything a kiss with him should be, and so much more. His hands rest on your neck, thumbs gently rubbing the corner of your jaw, right below your ears.

You pull away after a moment more and rest your forehead against his, a small smile gracing your lips.

“This is how things should be,” he whispers, stroking your hair gently. You nod, hands coming up to hold onto his wrists.

“Yeah.” The word is whispered so softly from your lips, that if he didn’t have enhanced hearing, he wouldn’t have heard it.

He presses another gentle kiss to your lips then pulls away. “You should rest,” he whispers, leaning back to look at you. You hesitantly meet his eyes, and when you don’t see the darkness and anger that was there before, you nod.

“Yeah, okay.” You lay down and relax, smiling to yourself as he gently traces over your cheek, his fingers soft and feather-light, a drastic change from his touches three weeks ago.

~*~

It’s a week later when you can walk again, a week after that when he feels comfortable enough to leave you alone, with access to very few things.

He’s on the jet home, mind on you as the rest of the team celebrates a mission gone well.

“You were great out there, James,” Natasha says with a smile, patting his shoulder. He grins at her, cheeks turning pink.

“I see your new remedy is working?” Steve asks, grinning from ear to ear. Bucky scratches his neck and nods. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Nat looks between the two super-soldiers, brows furrowed.

“What kind of remedy is that?” Bucky shakes his head at the redhead. “Just something Fury recommended. Didn’t think I could do it but here we are.” She nods, looking up into his eyes with a gentle smile.

“I’m glad it’s working. It’s good to see you back to normal. I missed the normal you.” He nods, sighing softly as his mind goes to you. “Yeah, I’ve missed it too.” She rests her hand on his shoulder then sighs, letting it slide off and rest in front of her.

“You’re coming tonight, right?” He furrows his brows in confusion. “What’s tonight?”

“Stark’s throwing a little celebration. It’s just gonna be us there. But he wants to celebrate such a clean streak of missions.” He mulls it over, then eventually decides that you’ll be fine if he stays out for another night. You’ve proven that you’re not going to harm yourself anymore, and you seem like you’re starting to genuinely enjoy the arrangement.

“It’d mean a lot to me if you came,” She says, being vulnerable for a moment with him. He raises his eyebrows then nods, knowing not to take her vulnerability lightly. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

The night consists of soft music, card games, and drinks, all courtesy of one Tony Stark. Bucky spends a fair portion of the night beside Natasha, the two of them laughing and talking together for hours as they each have drink after drink.  

Eventually, when things start winding down and Bucky’s walking her to her room, he brings up a painful topic.

“That night… when I tried to… you know... “ She looks up at him, smiling gently as he tries to express his feelings. “I’m sorry. It… it wasn’t me. And I know that that’s no excuse, but I mean it. But I’m starting to control the monster more.” She cups his cheeks, leans up on her toes, and presses a kiss to his lips.

“I know you’d never willingly hurt me. And I don’t blame you for what the soldier does. I know that the two of you aren’t the same person.” He wraps his arms around her and kisses her deeper, tongue brushing against her plump pink lips. She pulls him backwards until they’re in her room, and closes the door, panting against his mouth as his hands wander over her form.

Her curves are inviting, and he can’t help but grab her ass. She moans into his mouth and the two of them tumble to the bed, Bucky ready to apologize physically for all the things the soldier did, the things that he’s been wanting to do since he first laid eyes on her.

[the-manor-7]

BTS x Reader Reaction: You Have An Unusual Allergy

A/N: Just a bit of background for this one. 

I myself have a lot of weird allergies, including multiple to different kinds of fruits, grains, vegetables, etc.

All of these in here are from personal experience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jin

You two were just having a nice time cooking together when it happened.

You had tasted an ingredient that he had prepared earlier, and were just doing your thing, to later find your throat begin to itch.

The all too familiar feeling of your neck slowly tightening began slowly and then got stronger, causing you to cough and look around frantically for your pills.

Realizing you had left them in a bag at work, you ran over to the bathroom door, which Jin was inside of.

Frantically pounding on the door, you began to gasp for air, before slumping to the ground, wanting to save your breath.

In a panic, you could hear him washing his hands, throwing open the door to see your shaken state.

“Jagi? What’s wrong?”

Hearing your gasping breaths had him panicked, which promptly led him to call an ambulance.

About an hour later, when you were comfortably in a hospital bed and everything began to calm down, he asked you what had happened.

“Jin, did you put apple in what you were cooking earlier?”

He looked confused, “Well, you I did. What? Is that what caused this?”

When you nodded, he began to feel incredibly guilty.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jagiya. I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

You just smiled at him and took one of his hands in yours, “It’s not your fault, Jin. You don’t need to worry about it. Besides, you got me over to the hospital in time. Even if there was a mistake that you made, you fixed it, so it’s fine.”

That calmed him down a bit, but after that rest assured that he will not make the same mistake again. Before the two of you go on a date, he will even check with every restaurant beforehand to make sure that they don’t cook with apples, or at least make preparations for your arrival.

He would be incredibly careful after that and make sure you were safe.

Yoongi

You didn’t mean to worry him, you had just wanted to warn him about some possible symptoms, and to know what to do if you started having them.

You were mildly allergic to oats, which you had eaten on purpose, because the only food around at the moment was a granola bar, and you were just starving.

Knowing that you would have a reaction, you immediately took an allergy pill right after, then tried to explain to Yoongi what was going on.

“This doesn’t normally happen, since I just took a pill for it, but if I start to have a harder time breathing, could you just take me to the hospital? I really doubt it will happen, but just in case.”

Your last sentence, which you hoped would mask the fact you just said ‘hospital’, did nothing of the sort.

“Jagi, what do you mean? Why would I need to take you there?” He asked urgently.

“I just ate a granola bar, and I’m allergic to oats. Like I said, I really doubt anything will happen, I was just saying it as a precaution.”

“Jagi, what were you thinking?! Why would you eat that?!”

“I was hungry! And there wasn’t anything else to eat around here.”

“I could have ordered chicken or something, it would have been here in less than fifteen minutes!”

“But I was hungry now! And I still wouldn’t turn down the chicken, by the way.”

Rolling his eyes at you, he ordered the food all the same, but made sure to make you promise to never do this again. You would tell him if you had any other allergies, and he would make sure you never ate them. 

I think he would end up being more cautious than you were. 

Hoseok

“Jagiya!” He screamed as he came flying over, knocking a peach out of your hand, “Why is that poison within a five foot radius of your body?!”

“What the heck, Hobi?!” You picked the piece of fruit up off the ground and dusted it off with your sleeve, “This isn’t for me! It’s for you, I was just going to put it in the fruit bowl.”

You pointed to the unassuming glass dish sitting on the counter.

“No!” He snatched it out of your hand and held it away from you, “You are going nowhere near this toxic thing! I hereby banish peaches from this house for all eternity!”

His antics causing you to laugh, you questioned him, “But don’t you like them? What are you going to eat?”

“Anything else! I will not risk my Jagi’s health for my tastebuds!”

(I’m sorry, but why is this gif so perfect for the reaction I wrote?? I wrote it and then picked the gifs, I swear)

Namjoon

“Jagiya.” He scolded you, looking down at you as you sat on the couch with a bag of cashews in your hand, “Should you be eating those?”

Sighing, you leaned back on the couch and popped another one in your mouth, “No, but I really wanted to. It’s that time of the month, and I was really craving them. Besides, I took a pill right before I started eating, I’ll be fine.”

Snatching the bag out of your hand, he threw it in the trash.

“You just wasted five dollars.” You deadpanned, “And I’m still having cravings, you’re being no help.”

“I can give you five dollars, and I’ll buy you whatever else you want to eat, just don’t be eating things you’re allergic to!”

You paid no mind to his last sentence and focused on the middle part, “Anything I want?”

“Anything you want.”

“Yes!” You jumped up and danced around the room, hurrying to the door, “You’re taking me to the store, and we’re going on a chocolate raid!”

Chucking at you, he just followed you out the door, letting you buy what you wanted, as long as it posed no threat to your health.

Jimin

“Jagiya~” 

Jimin came waltzing into the room, holding a plate stacked high with watermelon.

“Do you want some?”

“Of course!” You ran over to your purse and pulled out a bottle of pills, “I just need to take this, and I’ll be right back.”

Taking a glass of water, you popped the pill into your mouth and swallowed it.

Quickly making your way back to where Jimin was, you found him looking all confused.

“What is it?” You questioned as you took a piece of that delicious fruit off of the plate and took a bite.

“Are you allergic to this too, Jagi?”

Nodding, you just took another bite, “Yep, but it’s just one I don’t pay much mind to. I like it too much to omit it from my diet.”

“Jagi…”

“Ah!” You waved a hand in front of your face, “Don’t you go scolding me too! I know what I’m doing, just trust me on this one, ok? I’ll be fine, I know what I’m doing.”

Reluctantly, he gave into your wishes, but he made sure to get a detailed list of your allergies soon after that. 

He didn’t want to accidentally feed them to you again. He would be extra careful with this one, even if you told him there was nothing to worry about.

Taehyung

After you quietly excused yourself from a family dinner, Taehyung came to check on you when you hadn’t returned from the bathroom after about ten minutes.

He poked his head in through the door, “Jagiya, is everything alright?”

Looking up from your spot on the edge of the tub, you nodded and gave him a smile, “Yes, I’m just waiting for my throat to calm down. I’m allergic to oysters, so it just gets uncomfortable.”

“Really?” He walked over to you with a worried expression on his face, “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

Shaking your head, you pointed to the bottle of pills you placed on the counter, “I already took my medicine, it just takes a bit for everything to calm down. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

He would stop bugging you about it, but would keep a close eye on you for the rest of the night. If you showed the slightest bit of discomfort, he would immediately question you about, wanting to make sure you were safe and healthy.

Jungkook

“Yeobo, are you alright?” Jungkook would question you as you were hunched over yourself, trying to gain breathe back into your lungs.

You two were on a date, when all of a sudden you felt your throat start to become uncomfortably tight, causing your lungs to have to work harder to get air to them.

Quickly taking a pill out of your purse, you gestured to the drink in his hand, taking a swig of it before swallowing the medicine.

Watching you intently, he asked again, “Are you alright? Do you need something? What did you eat?”

This had happened before with green peppers, although this time you accidentally ate something with strawberry in it, which caused this reaction.

“What was it this time?”

You scrunched up your nose, knowing the look you were going to get from him, “Strawberry.”

Yep, there it was.

“Strawberry??”

Hitting him on the arm, you just took it slow while your body decided to stop attacking itself, then just went on with your day.

For sure, he would store this trigger away in his memory, but he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. 

You’ve got it handled, and he didn’t want to interfere in something he knew you wouldn’t want him to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone! 

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

Please leave a comment/request whenever you would like.

Seriously guys, I would love to hear your ideas.

Thank you and love, 

The_Manor

Masterlist

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES:  Flashback: Mikasa, age 9

Current time: January 4th, Monday

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of suicide and attempted suicide. a character discuss this, the actual act is not mentioned.

Emotional abuse discussed, physical abuse discussed, child abuse discussed.

chapter eight: are we out of the woods?

Levi did not know how people did this. Granted, Mikasa was an easy kid for the most part. She was quiet, she liked to read. She played with her dolls and stuffed animals. She’d sing a lot but Kenny and Levi were used to that.  She didn’t ask for much. She’d occasionally asked Levi to play the piano for her but that was it.

Until today.

Today, Mikasa started at her new school. She had been homeschooled up until today. Winter break for elementary school was now over.

“Just put your coat on,” Levi pleaded with the nine year old.

“No,” Mikasa said as she held onto the staircase railing.

“Come on, you’ve got to go to school. I’ve got to go to the hospital and check on Kenny,” he pleaded again as he tried to wrench her tiny little hands off of the staircase’s railing bars.

“No! I won’t wear that coat! You can’t make me!” She screamed.

Levi looked at the coat in his hands and realized this had been the coat she had worn during the car accident. It was the only coat she owned.

“If I don’t make you wear the coat, will you go?”

Mikasa nodded before releasing her hands on the staircase railing. Well, he wouldn’t be winning guardian of the year for this but if got her to school, he would do it.

“Wait for me by the door,” he told her as he went upstairs. He opened the hall closest that Kenny kept everything in to find a smaller coat for Mikasa but there were none.

Kenny kept everything else but what Levi needed in this moment. He found a cardigan that had belonged to his mother, it would be huge on Mikasa but he would take it.

One car ride later, Levi dropped Mikasa off at her classroom, carrying her the whole way.

“Captain Ackerman, it’s been a while,” Mrs. Springer said as she stood in the doorway to the classroom.

“Mrs. Springer, nice to see you. This is my cousin, Mikasa,” he said as he put Mikasa down. He stayed down at her level. “This is Mrs. Springer, her husband owns the farm with the pumpkin patch. The one your mom and dad take you to every year?”

Mikasa nodded, “will you take me there? I wanna feed the chickens again.”

“I will but you have to go learn with her. I can’t teach you but she can, okay? I’ll be here at 3:15 to pick you up.”

Mikasa hugged Levi. He didn’t know what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t that. He hugged her back before letting her go. “She’s got a kid about your age. So she knows what she’s doing.”

“Yes, Connie is in the classroom just next door to ours. You can ask him if you want,” Mrs. Springer said as she kneeled down next to Levi and Mikasa. She held her hand out, Mikasa was very hesitant to take it. Mikasa looked to Levi who nodded so Mikasa took Mrs. Springer’s hand.

“You’re doing a fine job, Captain Ackerman. Mikasa will be fine here. If there’s any problems, I’ll call immediately.”

Mikasa sat at the back of class, she didn’t speak much. She liked silent reading because there was not a chance of her getting called on.

When recess came, it was too cold to go outside so Mikasa decided to continue reading.

Mrs. Springer stepped out of the classroom for a moment to run to the bathroom.

That’s when the trouble started.

“She’s kind of a freak,” Daz remarked. “She’s not even trying. Hey! Girl! Stop being weird!”

Mikasa ignored him.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He said before kicking her desk.

She ignored him and continued to read.

“Leave her alone, Daz.”

“What did you say, Eren?”

“I said leave her alone.”

Daz kicked her desk again.

A blur passed by Mikasa.

Eren had tackled Daz to the ground. “Leave her alone! You’re only messing with her because no one else here will deal with your shit!”

Chaos erupted into the classroom.

Somehow Daz ended up pinning Eren.

Mikasa could not allow this to happen.

Eren had tried to save her.

She leapt from her desk at the same time as the blonde boy who had been playing with Eren earlier.

“Get off of him!” Mikasa yelled as she punched Daz square in the jar while the blonde boy pulled Daz’s shoes off.

“You gotta get a girl to fight your battle for you?” Daz stumbled to his feet.

Mikasa and Eren looked at one another.

Mikasa kicked Daz in the stomach, causing the boy to stumble back.

Eren and Armin sat next to Mikasa during pick up time. She was shivering as the temperature had dropped since this morning. She had wished that she would have worn the stupid coat this morning.

She had been lucky today that everyone had jumped to defend her and Eren. The principle had gone easy on them, that was for sure. Eren’s mom arrived at the same time as Levi and Kenny. Mikasa’s eyes lit up at the site of her uncle. He had gone back into the hospital only days after the accident.

“Heard ya started a brawl on your first day, short stuff,” Kenny said as he messed up her hair.

“Daz kept kicking my desk. Eren was only trying to help! I had to save him like he saved me.”

“Is this true, Eren?” His mom asked him.

“Sorry, Carla. Didn’t know our girl here was…” Kenny started to say.

“Don’t apologize. I’m actually sort of impressed that he fought for another person besides Armin. I keep telling him he needs more than one friend. Sorry he got your girl in trouble and on her first day.”

“No apologies needed,” Levi said as he reached for Mikasa’s hand.

“Alright, Armin and Eren, let’s go,” Carla called and the two boys followed her.

Kenny pulled a bag out from behind his back. “TADA! New coat.” He pulled a green puffy coat f rom out of the bag with rhinestones along the zipper. “You’re gonna be the coolest girl in the third grade with that.”

Mikasa put the coat on. It was warm. She beamed up at Levi and Kenny.

Eren had run back. “This is for you. It’s my lucky scarf. You’re new and I like you, so you should have it. “ He took off the red scarf he had been wearing and wrapped it around her neck. “I like your new coat!” He called as he ran back to Carla.

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

Mikasa had changed outfits at least three times before Historia intervened.

“I don’t think it matters what you wear. Remember, you’re doing this for you, not for him.”

Historia threw the closest doors open and began going through Mikasa’s clothes. She pulled out the leather jacket Zeke had given her. Mikasa knew it was actually Eren’s but she didn’t interrupt H istoria when she was putting together clothes. She pulled out a black t shirt dress and black l eggings before going through Mikasa’s shoes.

After Mikasa changed again, Historia instructed her to sit so Historia could do Mikasa’s makeup.

“If I’m doing this for me, why are you doing my makeup?” Mikasa asked.

“Just because you’re doing this for yourself doesn’t mean you can’t show him what he's missing. Actually, I want to make a wardrobe change." Then Historia is back in Mikasa's closet, looking through storage bins. She found what she's looking for and toss it at Mikasa. "Go change."

It's a pair of fishnet tights. Mikasa thinks its too much but there's also a part of her that knows that Historia is right. There's a reason for Ymir's jealousy. So many people saw Historia's beauty but not only in her looks but in the way she carries herself. Mikasa wished she could be like that.

So she stripped her leggings off and put on the tights. Historia was still going through Mikasa's closet, looking for something. Then the blonde girl left Mikasa's room and came back, holding a large makeup case. She pulled out a pallet and a makeup brush.

"Close your eyes," Historia says as she pulls a pallet and brush from the case. Mikasa once again does as she's told. "Have I told you how jealous I am of your perfect skin?"

"Today? No," Mikasa starts to turn red. She's still not use to compliments. Historia has told her this multiple times but it still blindsides her every time.

"Well, you have perfect skin. Don't worry, I'm not doing too much makeup. Just boosting your beauty. Eren Jaeger is not going to know what hit him. Well, besides my fist that one time," Historia laughs.

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"Keep your eyes closed but open your lips slightly." Mikasa felt a makeup brush running along her lips. "I think, for once in your life, you need to be completely selfish. I think you're doing the right thing because it's what you want to do. Not us, not Eren, or Levi. It's all you, Mika. If Eren is truly sorry, then forgive him. If he's not, I'll break his teeth."

There was a pause before Mikasa felt something wrap around her neck.

She knew what it was.

The scarf Eren had given her all those years ago.

It had been in storage for a year but now, she had it back around her neck.

"Keep your eyes closed. Just trust me."

Historia’s hand slipped into Mikasa and she's pulled across the room. "You can open your eyes n ow."

Mikasa wouldn't know she was wearing make up if she hadn't felt Historia putting it on. The blonde girl did truly what she said she would. The light brown on her eyes and the pink on her lips were just highlights. The fishnets that she hadn’t worn in years made her feel like herself again. Paired with the red scarf, she felt like she could take on the world.

"You are a badass. Remember when that guy wouldn't stop hitting on me at that football game and you flipped him on his back? That girl is still there. I see her when you write songs or work out with Annie. Eren didn't take that girl from you. So today, remember that. Wear your boots with this."

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

Zeke and Eren had spent the morning boxing up unnecessary things in the kitchen. Then they moved into the living room to box up the rest of the remaining pictures. When everyone had been here the other day, they had got a lot of it done.

“What time is Mikasa coming over again?”  Zeke asked as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“Four,” Eren replied.

“I will probably leave before that. Give you two your privacy.”

Eren nodded.

“I am proud of you, Eren. You are doing the right thing for both of you. You will have closure and so will she.”

It was strange. Zeke was only ten years older than him but in the last year he had been more of a role model to him than Grisha ever had.

Zeke made a home for him.

He stood by him while also not condoning his actions.

He wanted Eren to get better.

Be better.

But there was no set path about how to do that.

Sure, Zeke had made his opinion known on the whole Mikasa and Armin situation.

He had called Eren an idiot for it.

Eren knew he was an idiot for it.

But Zeke had listened to him.

He had given advice only when asked.

Never pushed him.

Instead, Zeke walked beside him.

Grisha….

He had..

He had pressured Eren.

Go to college.

Get perfect grades.

Do this for college.

Do that.

What do you mean it's too late for applications for that university? I paid for that application. I didn’t? No, you’re lying. This is your fault.

Get a job.

No, you can’t have a job.

I don’t have time to have this conversation.

Take online classes.

These classes aren't good enough

Play guitar better.

Why do I keep raising failures?

I won't be home.

Don't touch me. I do not need pity from a child.

Your mother doesn't understand.

You don't understand.

Why aren't you good enough?

Be better.

Be perfect.

Be a doctor.

Do this.

Do that.

You're a failure.

For Zeke, it had been actions that Grisha had used against him.

For Eren, it had been words.

And the words stuck with him.

Zeke being Zeke poked Eren in the side of his face.

“You are not our father. You are doing the one thing he never did. You are taking responsibility for your actions. I am very proud of you, Eren,” Zeke told him.

Twice.

Zeke had said he was proud of Eren twice.

Eren tried to remember a time Grisha had said he was proud of him.

Eren couldn’t.

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

All five girls were in the car to drop Mikasa off at Erens. It was only three blocks away but none of them would hear that argument.

"If this goes bad, we're a text away," Sasha reminded Mikasa as Mikasa got out of the passenger seat.

"I have no problems breaking some bones," Ymir added.

“You’re making her nervous! It’ll be fine, Mikasa. Just go be yourself,” Historia said as she climbed from the backseat into the passenger.

Annie scoffed, “if it’s not, I’ll make the call to Levi to bail us out.”

“Okay, bye! Drive, Sasha before she changes her mind!” Historia yelled.

Sasha nodded before sped off.

Zeke Jaeger was exiting the house just as Mikasa walked up the driveway.

“Eren’s inside, finishing up a song. I’ll unlock the door and let you in.”

Zeke did just that and closed the door behind her after she walked in.

Eren was standing at a table in the living room with his back to the door. It looked like the old kitchen table to Mikasa.

“Okay so how does this sound?” Eren started to play guitar as he looked down at the paper in front of him. “ {lyrics redacted due to copyright} “

Mikasa took a step closer to him. She really did love hearing him sing.

“I can’t decide if after the bridge we should go straight into the chorus or not. Maybe I should repeat that last line. I mean granted, it’s not Mikasa’s bridge,” he said as he turned around to make eye contact with her. His eyes widened and he tripped over the leg of the table, stumbling as he walked away from the table. “You’re not Zeke.”

“I’m not. Sorry, he let me in. I can go…”

“No! It’s fine. It’s 4:00 and we said we’d meet at 4:00. I just...let me go put this down. Sorry, there’s not much furniture. There’s still a couch in the basement if you want to sit somewhere comfortable. I’ll go put this in my room and I’ll meet you down there, okay?”

Was he nervous?

Why was he nervous?

Why was she nervous?

Had letting Historia do her makeup been a bad idea?

Was she overdressed?

She walked down to the basement.

When it had been unfinished, Armin, Eren, and her had made stories of what was down here. Cannibals, bigfoot, sharks, the loch ness monster had all been a part of the stories. Carla got sick of them scaring each other and made Grisha finish it. It became like a second living room.

The large tv and gaming systems were already gone, Mikasa noted. The bookshelves were gone too.

The couch took up much of the room, it was very soft. It wrapped around the room, hugging the walls. Mikasa had spent many nights sleeping on this thing.

Eren came downstairs just as Mikasa sat down.

“It’s a good bridge, “ she spoke up.

Eren sat down on the opposite side of the couch so he was facing Mikasa. “Thanks, I’ve been working on a response to your song.”

Her eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean you called me out on my shit so I couldn’t not respond. It was good though. I liked it a lot.”

“Thanks.”

Silence.

They both looked away from one another.

How should this begin?

Should she just ask?

How should she ask?

Make the decision you’ll regret least , Mikasa remembered again.

“What’s wrong with your liver?” She finally broke the silence.

“Shitty genetics, binge drinking.”

“Why couldn’t you walk because of it?”

“Liver cycles out toxins. When it can’t, your body swells. Mine went into my legs. It hurt to walk, I couldn’t walk. The pain became too much.”

“So what did they do about it?” She asked as she looked over at him. His eyes wouldn’t meet hers.

“Well, they cut a big chunk of it out. It’s regenerating. They’re keeping an eye on it. No alcohol for me, I have to watch what pain pills I take.” He lifted his shirt up enough so Mikasa could see  the scar running along his abdomen. “Now I’ve got this great scar to remind myself of it.” He dropped his shirt back down.

“When did you find out you were bipolar?”

“Couple weeks after the DUI. Zeke had suspected it, being a psychologist, but he couldn’t do anything because I’m his brother. Conflict of interest. He convinced me to go see one after the DUI. He said my drinking was getting out of control, he wasn’t wrong. They diagnosed me. I didn’t want to believe it. I avoided going back until about six months ago. Then it was weekly meetings for therapy and medication.”

She wanted to ask him why he went back but she had a more important question to ask.

“Why did you say those horrible things to me?”

Eren stood up, ran his hand through his hair, paced for a moment, and then sat down.

“You know how my mom found out about Zeke and his mom? She got a letter from Dina, Zeke’s mom. It said Dina was dying and Dad shouldn’t blame Zeke for their failure. Her face….I can still see it.” He looked down, running his hands through his hair again. “You know what my dad did to Zeke? He broke his guitar in front of him! Diana kicked him out because she couldn’t take his anger anymore. I didn’t want to hurt you like that. I realized you and Armin were much better off without me.”

“So all of this has been so you don’t end up like your father?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, Eren. Well congratulations, you’re not like your father! You’re worse!”

“Will you just listen to me? I told you’d react like this!”

“I am listening to you! You said you were only with me because you wanted to fuck me! You called me a slave, a people pleased. Someone people just use and throw away!”

“You deserve better than me!”

“But you didn’t think that I chose you! I made the choice! Not you! You took my choice away!”

“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry? Is that going to magically fix it? I’m fucked up, Mikasa. I was caught between two parents who fell out of love! Do you know how often they fought? Every night after Mom got that letter. Every single night, I’d go to sleep to my parents yelling then my dad drank and smoked himself to sleep! I didn’t want that for you! Do you know what it’s like in my head? Do you know how often I wanted to die? That I thought the world would be better off without me? How I hear my dad telling me to be perfect, how to be perfect? How I’m still not good enough? I was never good enough for him so how can I be good enough for you? How can I be good enough for anyone?  I was in a hole I couldn’t climb out of. I just wanted everything to be done. It would be easier if I was just gone. I couldn’t kill myself while I was with you. I couldn’t do that to you or Armin. You deserved better than that, you still do.”

He stood up and walked over to her. He kneeled down in front of her. “I see how people look at you. You’re fucking gorgeous. Hell, even Jean would be a better choice than me. He can give you stability, I can’t. Even with medication and therapy, there can still be dark days. I could hurt you worse than I already have.”

Mikasa was crying, Eren was crying.

“I’m sorry, Mikasa. I am. None of this is an excuse. As soon as I said it, I regretted it but I told myself every day that I did the right thing.”

Mikasa reached out, grabbing the necklace that Eren was wearing. She pulled on the black cord until the rings came out of Eren’s shirt.

“Six months ago, Zeke found me in a manic state. Next thing I knew, he made me start going back to therapy. Apparently, all that behavior is pretty standard. They told me it wasn’t an excuse for my behavior, just an explanation. Then everything happened with my liver and that’s it.”

Mikasa held her dad’s ring in her hand before she moved to the other one. It was not one she recognized with the large gold diamond. It almost looked like an engagement ring but why did Eren wear it around his neck?

“If you have this ring, what’s in the box I gave you?”

Eren stared at her for a moment. “I..uhh...did you not read the letter?”

“There was a letter?”

“Yeah, in the box.”

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t know. I just saw the box.”

“Oh. Well there’s a flash drive in it.”

“What’s on it?”

“A song.”

She let go of the necklace. “You wrote me a song?”

“I’ve written several but no. You wrote it, I just...add to it.”

“Oh,” she said, before examining the other ring closer. It had E + M inscribed on the inner band. “Eren, before that were you……”

“Some days, I had highs. I felt like I could do anything. One of those days, I bought that. I even asked Levi if I could propose, right after high school. I was waiting for the perfect moment but it didn’t come. Not until…..I had a date planned and then my dad died.”

“Oh,” she said simply.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I am ashamed and I’m still working on forgiving myself for this. But you wanted to know, so I told you. If you want to leave now, I understand. Like you said, it’s the least I could do is explain everything to you."

Did she want to leave?

No.

She couldn’t explain the emotion she was feeling.

It wasn't a relief to get her answers.

Somehow, it made her feel worse for not recognizing how much Eren was hurting.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Eren said as he poked her in the arm.

“How did you…”

“You’re thinking and I’ve known you since we were nine. Nice jacket, by the way. How’d you end up with it?” He asked as he pulled on the sleeve.

“Zeke gave it to me when we were at the club.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

She let go of his necklace. “So what now?”

“I...I don’t know. I don’t think we can go back to what we were, right?”

As much as she would love that, she knew that it was just not possible. “No, we can’t.”

“Right,” he said as he released her sleeve.

“Maybe we could be friends again….until we figure it out. I forgive you.”

His face lit up, “yeah?”

“I forgave you long ago, so did Armin. It doesn’t excuse it, you’re right. It is an explanation.”

He sat down next to her on the couch as he nodded.

“Just because you’re forgiven doesn’t mean all of this is fixed. If you want to ever get back to that, then…”

“Do you?”

“....I’m here, aren’t I?”

“That’s enough for me,” he said as he took her hand.

“Eren…” She said as he looked over at her.

“What? You hold Historia’s hand all the time.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes, “you want to work on that new song?”

“Yes! I mean yeah, sure, if you want.”

They went upstairs to see five sets of eyes looking through the open picture window.

They quickly ducked out of sight.

“Oh! Do you think they saw us?”

“Sasha, shut up!”

“Armin! You’re standing on my hand!”

“Oh! Sorry, Historia!”

“Now you’re standing on my hand!”

“Sorry, Annie!”

Eren went over to the window and pulled it up. He stared down at his former friends. Mikasa joined him.

“Oh hey, you two! Fancy see you here, we were just….”Sasha trailed off.

“Spying on us?” Eren crossed his arms over his chest.

“I prefer making sure we didn’t have to murder you or hide your body after Mikasa murdered you,” Ymir said with shame as she stood up.

“So, how are you two?” Armin asked as he stood up next.

“Getting there,” Mikasa said with a small smile.

“Oh, good! I don’t have any money so bailing you out is not an option,” Historia said as she stood up.

“Wait, what?” Eren asked.

“You’ve missed so much, you have no idea!” Sasha stood up.

“Historia got kicked out, Ymir asked Historia out on a real date, Sasha is dating your drummer, and Armin and I are a thing. Oh and we all live with Levi now. I think that sums it up,” Annie with a shrug as she climbed in the window.

“Yeah, that about sums it up.” Sasha followed Annie in and the rest of the group outside did the same.

“I have a front door.”

“Boring as ever, aren’t you, Jaeger?” Ymir said as she was the last one to climb in the window.

“Trying to be,” he gave her a small smile.

“Hey, I get it. My mom was the same, bipolar. It’s not as rare as you think. Just don’t hurt Mikasa again, okay? We’ll stand by her, no matter what. You treat her well, we’ll do the same to you. The moment you step out of line though, I’m taking your kneecaps out. Got it?” Ymir patted Eren gently on the face.

“Y..yeah,” Eren stuttered.

“And Levi will make you fish food! Anyway! What were you two about to do?” She asked as she walked over to Mikasa and wrapped her arm around her.

“Eren was working on a song. I was going to help,” Mikasa said.

“Just like high school,” Armin mused.

“Can we hear it? I mean we never got to hear you two write together, only the end result,” Historia asked.

“If it’s fine with Eren, it’s fine with me,” Mikasa said before walking over to the kitchen table.

“Sure, why not? You’re all already here. Let me grab guitar,” with that Eren went into his b edroom.

“Mikasa doesn’t have sex hair,” Ymir sighed.

“Disappointing, isn’t it?” Sasha countered.

“I thought we raised you right, I guess I was wrong.”

“Where did we go wrong, Ymir?”

“I don’t know, Sasha! We taught her everything we know!”

Eren just stared at both Sasha and Ymir before shaking his head. He stole a glance at Mikasa who was laughing.

He had missed that sound more than anything.

“Alright, so from the top?” He asked Mikasa who simply smiled at him before nodding.

Eren played the first chord.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}. ..and then this goes into the chorus which is repeated a lot. But that’s the opening. Thoughts?” Eren asked nervously.

“You two write the angstiest shit. You both realize it isn’t a competition, right?” Ymir asked as she sat down on the floor.

“Ymir!” Historia scolded her.

“What? I wanted to be entertained and he’s entertaining me. Well, sort of. What’s the chorus sound like?”

Eren looked over at Mikasa again. She seemed to be just as interested as Ymir.

“Nothing good. I’ve only got like four lines.   {lyrics redacted due to copyright} ”

“Just repeat them,” Mikasa said. “You’re over complicating it.”

“I can try,” Eren nodded.

“Alright, Jaeger. Enough flirting with Mikasa, let’s hear the next verse,” Ymir teased him. “Or give me one of your guitars so I can do something.”

Eren smiled. “Alright. I’ll grab you one.”

And in that moment Eren realized, he might just be out of the woods.

[se0kie]

kimchi helps the heart heal– myg (m)

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: angst, smut, lil dash of fluff

bestfriend!yoongi, unrequited love, f2l

this is for @ficswithluv​‘s luv library project, do check out the other fics they are absolutely amazing and I had such a fun time with the other authors :) 

warnings: angst, unhealthy eating habits, no eating d*sorders but reader is super careless about her diet so if it’s potentially triggering pls be careful!!, dirty talk, vanilla smut really, sliiiightly rough, little to no foreplay (yikes sorry) unprotected sex but reader is on contraception (wrap ur dingdongs)

summary: being dumped weeks before valentine’s day is not the best feeling. sulking and chocolates are the only obvious medication. but your best friend is set on fixing you up and showing you how much more you truly deserve. innocent kimchi jiggae dates or are there deeper feelings behind your and min yoongi’s weekly meals?

Life is pain. Love is a lie.

There’s no way in hell Rose loved Jack, that bitch just let her man drown. That’s what people do, pretend to love you and then throw you away like some used gum.

Man I hate Eunwoo.

I’m hungry. Should I order? When was the last time I ate something from other than out a takeout box?

These were just some of the thoughts running through your mind. You had just been dumped by your boyfriend and to say the least, you were not taking it well.

You were excited for your first Valentine’s day with an actual valentine, you had been looking at options of restaurants to go to when your then boyfriend Eunwoo abruptly let you know that he in fact did not want to stay together.

No explanations, no excuses, not even breakup sex. You were annoyed and shocked to the point that he left your house and you couldn’t get a single word out in protest. 

You may not have been as upset about losing a boyfriend than you were at the fact that you couldn’t give him a piece of your mind, even angrier because yet again another romantic holiday would pass you by and you would be utterly alone.

Sad.

Pathetic and sad.

You didn’t know why you were so affected by the incident, it wasn’t like you were in love with Eunwoo, yeah sure he was cute, sure he had the body of an angel.

But the only reason you had even started dating him was because... well that didn’t matter right then.

You had fallen into a routine. Waking up at 1 in the afternoon, ordering some or the other greasy, unhealthy food from the large collections of takeout places in your neighbourhood, watching terrible romcoms and ignoring your friends.

They had made multiple attempts at trying to reach you and get you out of your hobbit hole but you tried your damnedest to not give in and suffice to say you had succeeded.

You were caught in one of your usual blank periods of contemplating what was so wrong with you that all your relationships failed, why you couldn’t just satisfy anyone you dated and what the hell would you order for dinner tonight?! You were leaning towards fried chicken and cheese when the bell rang and you were whisked out of your reverie.

You got up from your seat and peeked through the hole in the door.

Somebody was standing outside with bags and bags of groceries, to the point that you couldn’t see their face behind the brown paper bags they were carrying.

You opened the door and without waiting for a word from you the figure rushed into your home and then into your kitchen.

You let out a squeal of shock and followed the intruder, angry and ready to put your second grade karate lessons to the test. But before you could go ahead you heard the man speak, it was a voice you knew more than your own, your best friend since middle school Min Yoongi.

“What the hell Yoongi?! You can’t just barge into my house.” You were furious. Not really, cause it was your closest friend but still you were annoyed and you had been known to be a drama queen of sorts for all your life.

“No Y/N, don’t you ‘what the hell Yoongi’ me. What is wrong with you? Where have you even been?! D’you have any idea how worried we’ve been?! How worried I’ve been??! All I knew was that Eunwoo said something and then left.” 

Yoongi was going off at you and all you could do was stand there and listen to him, after all you knew you were in the wrong, Yoongi was the one person you always stayed in touch with and not speaking to him for a whole week is a never before happened situation. You sighed as he continued with no sign of stopping, “I didn’t know if you were alive, if you died, what Eunwoo did. If he had abducted you and killed you? You’re not replying to your texts or taking any calls, I even emailed you! You have any idea how desperate someone is when they fucking email as a form of communication??!” He finally stopped to gasp for breath after his long ass speech, seeing as you at least had the decency to look sheepish he chose not to continue his tirade and you were grateful for it. Yoongi had a serious parentlike reaction to mistakes and you always felt like you were 5 again being chided by your mom.

Taking his silence as an opportunity you started, “Look I know I was wrong to ignore you but I just needed some time to myself okay? Eunwoo dumped me.” 

Your voice was small and Yoongi felt the sudden need to wrap you in his arms and hold you for hours, comfort you and give you the love you needed. But he knew he shouldn’t test his boundaries so instead he made a little noise in his throat as if to brush away all the explanations he knew you were about to give. He chose to instead divert the topic and make the atmosphere lighthearted , “Whatever, we don’t need to talk about it right now. Anyways I know you’ve probably been eating shitty food and neglecting your health—” You were about to protest when Yoongi had cut you off. “Do not try to deny it Y/N I know you like the back of my hand” 

He really did know you like the back of his hand.

He continued, “I’ve brought groceries, some veggies and fruits and I’m gonna make you dinner for the next few days okay?” You nodded in agreement. This wasn’t new for you. There had been times when you looked for comfort in unhealthy food and habits and your best friend had come to your rescue to nurture you back to normalcy, besides, Yoongi was an amazing cook and even you were getting tired of the greasy pizzas and pints of ice cream. You knew your body needed Yoongi’s cooking to recover from your junk food spree.

Not waiting for any further conversation, Yoongi went back to the kitchen and you could hear him rustling around pulling out ingredients for dinner. You went to see him and poked your head from the side of the doorway into the kitchen, exactly like you used to when your mom would cook dinner when you were a child. He was cutting pieces of chicken into little cubes and his face had the cutest little look of determination. You couldn’t help but coo internally at how sweet he was being. He was bobbing around soaking noodles in water and mixing sauces together, he looked so domestic and it suddenly hit you just how much he cared about you. Unlike anyone else ever had.

 “What are you making for dinner?”

 “Kimchi jiggae and chicken stir fry. Is that alright or do you want something else?” You hummed in agreement.

Your tastebuds salivated at the thought of it, Yoongi’s chicken stir fry was something you had been eating for years and it only tasted better each time you tried it.

You felt warmth flood at the sight of your friend taking care of you, “Hey Yoongi.”

“Yeah, Y/N?”

“Thanks for caring about me.” You said with a small smile.

Yoongi smiled with a little sigh. You knew it was enough reciprocation.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence though he chimed up, “Hey Y/N why don’t you go take a shower while I get dinner ready? You stink.” 

You scoffed at his statement but you knew your hair was greasy and your body had been subjected to a whole week of sad eating. It was time to get your shit together. So you obediently went to take a much needed shower, letting the warm water roll over you and release the tension from your back and shoulders. You had lost count of how long you had been under the water when you noticed your fingers beginning to prune.

You got ready and left with restless steps towards the kitchen, which was now smelling deliciously of soy sauce and chicken. The dinner table had been laid with plates and heaps and heaps of delectable dishes. Kimchi jiggae, some japchae, chicken stir fry and rice. You sat down opposite Yoongi and mumbled a thank you before digging in. 

Yoongi looked at you fondly as you ate. He hated when you retreated away from him during times you truly needed a friend, he always wanted to be there for you but it was hard when your first instinct was to isolate yourself and drown in junk food. He ate silently with you, chuckling every now and then at your squishy cheeks full with noodles.

After you were both done and the dirty dishes had been cleaned the two of you sat down on your couch, Yoongi insisting on having a talk that was long overdue. He sighed, “Tell me what happened between you and Eunwoo, Y/N.” You looked at him with wide eyes. It’s not like you would hide it from him but the truth is you were embarrassed of what had gone down. “Eunwoo dumped me. There’s not much to it. We were sitting on the couch having a normal evening when he just randomly tells me he doesn’t love me. That he couldn’t be with me knowing that our relationship would go nowhere.” You said with a sad smile. Its not like you were deep in love with him either, but you were excited about being with him. It was your first real relationship as an adult and you were looking forward to being cheesy and going on Valentine’s day dates. What a waste.

Yoongi gave a sigh of understanding, moving quickly to your side and wrapping his arms around your shoulder, pulling your back to his chest. He murmured into your ear, “Oh Y/N, you should’ve told me. I would’ve come over as soon as possible, you had to go through that all alone. Oh sweetie I’m so sorry. He’s an asshole.” You chuckled dryly, “Well I’m more disappointed about the fact that I’ll once again be alone on the wretched day. Can’t believe my one chance at Valentine’s day roses and chocolates is over.” Yoongi scoffed at your bluntness, “It’s okay I’ll be there with you on Valentine’s. Who needs relationships when you can have a best friend, right?” You nodded slowly at his words, basking in his familiar warmth. 

You were grateful Yoongi had barged into your home, that he had taken the first step and extended his arms towards you. You needed him, you truly did... but you were just too scared to reach out.

It had been a solid week of Yoongi coming over to your home and spending the evenings with you, cooking dinner and then watching trashy movies together. Your house had been smelling deliciously all week, Yoongi had been thoroughly pampering you, with his food and attention, suffice to say your ego along with your stomach were well fed. You and your best friend had fallen into a weird rythm together. He would always show up to your house in the evenings, cook dinner that left you fantasizing about it well after it was eaten and watch movies with you that would obviously be ignored so that you could gossip like you used to when you were kids.

You could also feel yourself slowly slip into the feelings you had before you got with your ex. You had always had a massive crush on Yoongi. He was your senior in school who had taken you under his wing, the two outcasts of Daegu High, it had always been you and him. But you knew that your friendship and bond with Yoongi outweighed your otherwise romantic feelings and you learned to ignore them whenever you were around him, so every single waking moment.

You were getting carried away with your thoughts when you heard the usual ring of the doorbell, you got up from your seat at the couch and opened the door to a red cheeked Yoongi, walking into your home to escape the cold. Not wasting time on pleasantries, that’s just how you two were, he removed his coat and went to the kitchen that now felt more like his than yours. 

“I was thinking we could have some steak tonight, huh Y/N? Feels like a steaks and potatoes kinda night, doesn’t it?” 

You could hear Yoongi’s voice amidst the clanging of pots and pans, you replied, “Yeah I could go for steak. I have some really great wine too,” walking into the kitchen to show him your treasure, “I got it from Eunwoo’s friend when they came over for dinner this one time.” 

You gazed at the dark sheen of the bottle. Eunwoo was useless but at least his friend was still helping you days after your breakup. 

Yoongi nodded, “Yeah sure, as long as you don’t get a wine headache and beg me to massage your head.” You feigned annoyance, “Min Yoongi! How dare you?! You’re the one who gets wine headaches, not me. Do not accuse me of things I’m not guilty of.” Yoongi laughed at your antics, gummy smile on display. You could feel your heart skip a beat at the way his face glowed, it was a feeling you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

And just before you could turn on the full fangirl mode, Yoongi cleared his throat and said, “Help me with the potatoes now, we’ll get done faster if you put your ass to work Y/L/N.” You gave him a dirty look and set out to find the potatoes and peel them.

You found the ingredients you needed for the mashed potatoes and started peeling the skin off while observing your friend spearing the cuts of meat and rubbing them with seasoning. You had always admired how great he was with food, he never cooked for just anyone. You had to be special, someone who Yoongi truly cared about, for him to cook for you. And that’s why you loved it so much that he was always making you something or the other to eat and munch on. It seemed like you mattered to him, like you were someone worthwhile of knowing and being friends with. Surprisingly, it was a feeling you weren’t well acquainted with. 

Not wanting to think about depressing things during such a sweet moment you instead chose to focus on how Yoongi caught his tongue between his teeth while handling the meat, how he peeled the garlic and seared the steaks in the oil. His face had a look of utter concentration and you were sent back to being 13 and making papier-mâché volcanoes for your eighth grade project with Yoongi. Some things never changed.

Having deemed you useless in the kitchen Yoongi banished you to the living room after you accidentally sprinkled sugar into the potatoes instead of salt, his exact words were “Y/N you are a hazard to our dinner, please leave and let me be.”

Not like you were hurt or anything, pssh.

You watched a show on Netflix while waiting for Yoongi to finish up which was thankfully not very long. You set the dinner table with the cutlery as he served the steaks and potatoes, a delicious smell wafting from your plates. You cut a piece of the meat, seared on the outside and perfectly pink in the middle. You moaned at the taste of the garlic and beef as it spread through your tastebuds. 

Yoongi asked as he watched you, “You like it?” 

“Mmhmm.” You could only hum as you savoured the flavours, an enthusiastic nod confirming your feelings. A small smile made its way to his face as he felt his ego swell at the blissed out look of appreciation on yours. The two of you ate in comfortable silence punctuated with mindless remarks here and there and random questions thrown in. It would have been awkward for anyone else, anyone else but you and Yoongi.

Yoongi swallowed his morsel before saying, “You know Y/N I never really liked Eunwoo. Ever since I met him I always had a bad feeling about him.” 

You set down your fork at having finished your meal and asked, “Seriously? I didn’t know that I just thought you didn’t want to get too involved in our relationship.” You gave a sigh of realisation. This was news to you. Yoongi continued, “No, yeah I didn’t like him at all. He was always so shady, too nice to people’s faces I didn’t think he was genuine at all.”

“Wow, well you know I can understand. He was sort of an asshole. He was always nice to people but he rarely ever said nice things about them when they weren’t around.” You continued, “Guess I got lucky then, huh?” “Yes definitely. You’re too good for that snake.”

“But still it would’ve been nice to have him as my valentine. He might’ve been a reptile but he had a reaaaaally long–” 

“Y/N!! Shut up! I don’t wanna know!!” he squealed.

 You laughed at Yoongi’s horrified expression. It was so easy to rile him up you couldn’t resist it.

“Jeez loosen up grandpa. No, but really I hate being dumped, especially when the dumper is so ruthlessly gorgeous. Ugh.” You sighed. Life was cruel to you, it was decided, you were sure.

Another moment of silence ensued. You glanced at Yoongi and caught him already looking at you. Big brown eyes boring into yours. You were reminded of all the times you had sat across from him like this. You didn’t know what came over you but you found yourself suddenly saying, “Hey Yoongs, you wanna know a secret?” Yoongi hummed in response. A nod followed.

“I used to like you before I dated Eunwoo.”

A pin could have dropped and you would’ve heard it, it was that quiet. Yoongi just continued to look at you, a peculiar expression on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher. Something bordering on frustration and hesitance. “Oh...” All you could do was glance at him and your fingers on the table.

After a moment of mulling over it, he said, “Why are you telling me this? You’re not kidding, are you Y/N? Cause this would be a really cruel joke.”

“No! Of course not! I’m not messing around, I promise. I really don’t know why I said that I’m so sor—”

But before you could get another word out of your mouth his face smoothed over. “Thanks for the lovely evening Y/N but I think I need some time alone. I’ll see you tomorrow.” he said with a sad smile. He gathered his things from the seat beside him, and then he got up and left.

To tell the truth, you were not expecting to be greeted by Yoongi’s face at your door the next day. You thought you had messed up your friendship for good. Or at least for a few weeks. So suffice to say you were thoroughly surprised to see Yoongi once again barge into your house without an invite and carrying on preparing tteokbokki and samgyeopsal for dinner.

Silence reigned for minutes as you gathered enough courage to face him in the kitchen. You walked into the tiny space of the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, waiting for him to speak his mind. You were just about to start when he cut you off and said, “I’m sorry for last night.”

“Oh- No it’s okay, Yoongi. I know it was a shoc-”

“No it’s really not okay Y/N. You just shared something with me and I obviously blew it out of proportion. I shouldn’t have walked out on you.” He looked at you he said this, sincerity gleaming off his face.

“It’s okay Yoongs, I wasn’t mad. In fact I should’ve kept it to myself.”

“No!” He said suddenly, cheeks reddening at the realisation that he was way too quick to correct you. Sheepishly, he continued, “I’m really glad you told me Y/N. Thank you.”

Although you didn’t entirely know why he was thanking you, you just went along with it. Not wanting to cause further awkwardness you left him as you usually did, bustling around looking for pots and pans while he entered his own little world right there.

Dinner had been amazing, as it always is when Yoongi was cooking. After polishing everything off your plates you and Yoongi were now watching Clueless on your laptop, huddled together to keep the chill out. Yoongi’s arm around your shoulder and yours latched across his waist. 

To an outsider this would seem like an intimate position for a pair of ‘just friends’ to be in but you and Yoongi had always been like this. Affection and skinship weren’t things that were openly (or ever) shown to the both of you when you were children, so it only made sense that the two of you looked to the other as a source of comfort. You were never afraid of being your childish self in front of him. One time he had taken care of you when you were drunk off your ass and although you barely remember that night, Yoongi had made sure to tell you had puked on his new trench coat. If it were anyone else in the world you would be mortified, but it wasn’t anyone. It was your best bud Yoongi.

 Not knowing how to deal with this intense nostalgia and appreciation you resorted to what you always did when you didn’t want to get too emotional.

Pillow fight!!!

You reached for the blue throw cushion to your right and smacked Yoongi square in his face. He blinked, registering what had just happened. And then in a split second he had ripped the pillow out of your clutch and thrown it behind him. His arms flew out to trap your wrists in one of his hands as he yelped, “Hey! What was that for? Usually you notify me before smacking me in the face.” You rolled your eyes at how cheesy he sounded, “I’m boorrrreed Yoongi!” 

“Oh well are you still bored now?” He says as he hits your shoulder with the cushion he had apparently been hiding behind his back the entire time. You squealed at the sudden impact and grabbed a pillow of your own, face scrunched up at the soft blows that you were landing on his platinum blonde head.

While the both of you went at each other with all your might you had somehow ended up on top of Yoongi, hitting his chest with a too small cushion that you knew wouldn’t hurt him. Your legs had slotted around his waist and you were currently sat on his thighs. The warmth from his skin soaking into yours.

Limply the pillow you were holding fell out of your grasp as you and Yoongi breathed heavily, staring into each other’s eyes while trying to catch your breaths. Your eyes scanned his face, brown eyes boring into yours, lips soft but slightly chapped, tantalisingly red like cherries smeared upon them. You felt an overwhelming urge to just lean down and peck him. 

Would he taste as sweet as he looked? Yoongi looked at you as you focused on his lips. Waiting with bated breaths to see if you would do what he ached for you to do. He had always been scared of being the one who approached you, the one who put his feelings out in the open for you to accept or reject. He had instead chosen to let you come to him if you felt similarly, he wanted you to be with him only if your heart said so and not because of any obligation you felt towards him. He wanted you heart, not your calculated decisions.

Right when he thought that maybe he was looking too much into it you bent your head down to his and captured his lips in yours.

You could taste Min Yoongi. Soft, slightly rough from the cold and sweet from his strawberry lip balm. You held your position for a few seconds, scared to move in fear of him not wanting it when you felt something below you. Something hard and poking into your shorts, definitely not the TV remote. Unexpected heat flooded through your stomach at the thought of what you had done to Yoongi. Surely this was your doing, you could feel Yoongi starting to kiss you back when he stopped abruptly. A soft “fucking hell” leaving his lips as his gaze flicked downwards to where your core sat upon his. His eyes flew back to yours, strangely apologetic. If only he knew that you frequently dreamt of being in this exact position.

But the last thing you want is for Yoongi to feel uncomfortable around you so like the good, responsible best friend you are you unmount from his lap and put some safe distance between your bodies.

“Yoongi I am so sorry.” you say softly.

Confusion paints his face, “What? Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t know what came over me, I should not have done that. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncom-”

“Y/N fucking stop apologising for a second.”

You clearly looked shocked at this point you were sure of it, you were expecting the sudden change in tone. “Fine, I just...it wasn’t my intention to come at you without any warnings. Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen.”

Yoongi scoffed internally at your words, what the hell were you saying? Did you not want to kiss him? Or were you worried about what he would think of you? Because he sure as hell did not want to forget about it, it being something he had spent hours fantasizing about. Yoongi felt sudden irritation fill him, you were still rambling about how you weren’t thinking clearly and it was a mistake. All of which was just contributing further to Yoongi’s annoyance.

“Y/N I think I should leave. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said simply as he picked up his coat and gave you an unexpected kiss on the forehead. A simple brush of his lips against your skin and you knew you had fucked up. You should’ve just stayed shut and let him speak about whatever he was obviously wanting to say.

 Once again you cursed yourself for your inability to read people’s emotions. The last thing you had wanted was to make Yoongi feel uncomfortable but you had failed to consider the fact that maybe he had wanted to kiss you too. As you heard his footsteps slowly die down into the hallway outside your apartment you let out a groan of frustration at your own thickheadedness and burried your face into the blue pillow in your lap. What were you gonna do with all these damned emotions?

You woke up bright and early the next day, your mood significantly better than it had been the past month. And then you were rudely met with memories of the previous night. Everything flashed past you as you recalled kissing your best friend and the ugly debacle that followed after. You were about to dwell on your stupidity and how naive you had been to think that maybe, just maybe, your friend of more than a decade would somehow return your feelings when your phone rang. You scrambled to find the gadget which had been lodged under your pillow and checked the caller id. It was your colleague Irene. She never really called, preferring to talk over text so you assumed it must be important. Busy conversing with your friend you missed the familiar jangling of the keys at your front door as you made your way into the kitchen to prepare your ritualistic morning cup of coffee.

Unbeknownst to you Yoongi had slipped into your living room, depositing the bags of grocery on the table. He could you hear you giggling in the kitchen and just faintly made out the words you were saying.

“I can’t come Irene, I have...plans.”

A pause, he assumed said Irene was speaking. His brows furrowed as he took in what you had said. Who could you possibly have plans with on Valentine’s? Unless you had struck up a date and hadn’t told him. His heart ached, totally unnecessarily but he was used to it by now.

“I would love to get piss drunk on Valentine’s Irene, trust me, but I have plans with someone and I really can’t ditch.” Another pause and then you were saying, “I mean I don’t really know if it’s a date? We haven’t discussed it yet. But enough about me, you go and have loads of fun for me, okay? I’ll talk to you later, buh-bye!”

He stood near the door, not having moved an inch since he entered.

You were absolutely not prepared to be greeted by Yoongi’s figure as you left the kitchen. You let out a yelp of shock at seeing him. “AGH!! Yoongi?! What the hell? You have got to stop entering my house without a warning, you scared me half to death.”

“Oh stop being so dramatic Y/N I told you I’d come over for breakfast today. And since I know you’re such an early bird I just let myself in instead of waking you up.”

“Oh. Right, of course.”

 After a moment of contemplation you said, “Listen Yoongs, should we, y’know, talk about last night?”

You noticed his eyes widen for a split second and then a mask of composure, smooth and swift, so Yoongi.

“Let’s not. We can discuss it after breakfast, sound okay?”

You hummed in agreement, nodding at his statement.

The both of you stood in the silence. When had things become so awkward between you?

“Hey Y/N?”

You looked at him, telling him to go on.

“I couldn’t help but overhear and uh...are you planning something for Valentine’s Day?”

“Uhh, yes. Duh. You promised to spend it with me, remember?”

Yoongi felt the blood rush to his cheeks, face reddening at the implication of your words. And then those familiar twinges of pain puledl at his heart. He couldn’t bear to keep doing this. Falling back and forth into these weird spaces of loving you and hoping to be with you and then turning back into the mature best friend.

“Y/N I don’t think I can spend Valentine’s with you.”

Your face an image of confusion at his words, “What? Why? Did something happen?” As a new theory dawned on you, “Oh my god, is this about last night? I’m sorry, I really am I shouldn-“

“No! It’s not about that. I just...”

“You just what?”

“I have a date that night. I came to tell you that over breakfast.”

“Bullshit.”

Yoongi’s face easily gave away his lie, he may know you better than yourself but you knew him too. He would never keep something like a date a secret from you.

“Tell me really why you won’t spend Valentine’s with me. It’s about the kiss, isn’t it? See, I knew it, I really am sorry Yoongi. Don’t shut me out because of that I promise it won’t happen ever agai-“

“Damnit Y/N! It’s not about the fucking kiss okay! I loved it. I loved kissing you and that’s exactly where the problem lies. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending like I don’t love you. I can’t act like maybe, just fucking maybe you want me the same way I want you. So I’m sorry but I can’t spend that damned day with you, Y/N. It kills me to hurt you like this but I need to do this for myself.”

You were speechless. Words rushing through your mind but none settling on your lips. You really needed to practice how to control your mouth when you were shocked, so many troubles could have been prevented if you’d just. fucking. say something.

But of course, fate would have Yoongi walking out on you. Something that he had been doing increasingly since the past few days. And you, dumbstruck, standing in your living room. Mixed feelings of joy, confusion and sadness rendering you voiceless as you stood and watched your best friend, your childhood crush and the person you loved the most step out of the threshold with faint, glistening tears in his eyes.

It had been three days since Yoongi’s outburst/confession. You had texted him non stop, called him at least 50 times and yes, even emailed him. You were that desperate. 

But Yoongi was surprisingly resilient, he had ignored all your advances and completely shut you out. You felt stupid and frustrated and stupid yet again, after a point you lost count of how many times you had kicked yourself for being a brainless jellyfish while your first love walked out on you. After confessing that he loved you too. 

Your life was like the worst romcom with all the comedy and none of the romance. 

You sighed, once again forgetting how many times you’d repeated that action.

Finally after a somewhat convincing pep talk (it wasn’t convincing nor a talk, you had watched Marley & Me and cried thrice and then decided to just fuck it all and go for your crush, but let’s pretend it was a pep talk) you decided to take your chances approaching Yoongi. 

You threw on your most flattering sweatshirt and pyjamas and speed walked to the corner take out store that sold your favourite pork ribs and fried rice, placed your order and then thrummed your fingers agitatedly against the counter for the agonising time period of ten whole minutes.

Take out bags in hand you were feeling quite like the prince in a fairytale out on an adventure to woo his princess. Except you weren’t a prince and the only adventure at your hands was finding a damned taxi ready to take you to Gangnam on freaking Valentine’s evening. Yoongi did fit the part of the brooding young maiden sulking in her tower. Oh gosh you were rambling to yourself, the nerves had truly gotten to you.

Finally a cabbie decided to take you to Yoongi’s neighbourhood, surely alarmed at your expression that looked dangerously close to tears.

You tapped your feet inside the taxi, driving the man in the front seat to madness while he drove you to your soon-to-be beloved’s skyscraper apartment. As you reached your destination you shoved a few bills into the driver’s outstretched hand. You rode up the elevator to Yoongi’s flat and hoped with all your heart that he would be home. If you knew your best friend, and you thought you really did, he would be wearing his brown pyjamas binge watching Friends.

You quickly reached his door and sure enough, you could hear the faint shouts of Ross claiming ‘they were on a break!!’

 You smiled to yourself, and rang the bell. Feeling a strange sense of deja vu, you realised that you were in the same position as Yoongi had been in the past few weeks. Bags in hand, ringing the doorbell to the other’s house in an attempt to reach out after days of no communication. 

With horror setting in you thought, what if he didn’t open the door for you at all? What if he was mad beyond repair and you would be left out there in his hallway as he completely ignored you even after you’d shown up at his front door? You were once again, dangerously close to tears when the door flew open, revealing a suspiciously red-faced red-eyed Yoongi. Had he been crying? You felt your heart crush at the thought. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and hold him close and never leave his side.

But first, explanations.

“Hey Yoongs.”

“Hi Y/N.”

You were expecting him to say something, anything. Scream, shout, ask you why you were here. You were completely unprepared for the silence.

“Uh...can I come in? If you don’t mind?”

“Oh yeah, sure come in.”

He stepped aside to let you into his oddly familiar apartment. You had spent countless days and nights here. It had been way too long since you’d visited you realised as you took in the new furniture arrangement.

“I brought pork ribs.” you said with a weak smile as you raised the now cold bag of take out.

“Thanks. Just put it on the counter.”

You did as he said and sat down on the stool opposing the couch.

You started as he sat facing you on the white couch, “I think we need to talk.”

Yoongi chuckled drily, “Yeah I’d say so.”

“You said your piece, but I didn’t really get a chance to say mine. Is it okay if I speak?”

“Listen Y/N you don’t have to coddle me okay? Just say you don’t like me like that and go, don’t dig at the already salted wound I’m jus-“

“Yoongi shut up for a second, please.” you said firmly, you needed him to just shut up and listen for once.

“You’ve been doing a whole lot of walking out on me, right now I need you to just listen to me, okay?”

Yoongi pursed his lips, and after a few seconds nodded, gesturing at you to continue.

“I’ve liked you ever since we got stuck together as outcasts in high school. I’ve liked you since the first time you got into a fight for me, since you started taking care of me and cooking meals for me. I’m so, so deeply sorry I couldn’t say this to you before. I was so afraid of losing your friendship I just couldn’t bring myself to confess.” You could feel fresh tears sting at your eyes, your gaze trained at your fingers that laid in your lap. Briefly you panned your eyes to Yoongi’s face and you were sure his expression was mirroring yours. With a renewed breath of determination you continued, “But i’m not going to sit by and watch you slip through my fingers anymore. I like you, Yoongi. I like you and love you and want you. So much so that it hurts from the sheer need to have you around me. The only reason I could even think about dating Eunwoo was because I was afraid I couldn’t keep up the facade anymore. I love you and I’m all yours, if you’ll have me.”

You breathed, trying to control your uneven heart rate. The muscle pumping like crazy in your chest you were scared he could hear it.

And just like that Yoongi was getting up from his seat and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, his face buried in your hair as you clung to his figure and hid your face in the crook of his neck. He spoke with his voice muffled by your hair, “You won’t believe how relieved I am to hear you say that, my love. I love you, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you so so much.” 

“I love you too, Yoongs.” you murmured into his neck. It felt good to say that, as if the invisible weight you’d been carrying for years as unrequited love had just been lifted.

The two of you stayed like that for minutes, hours, you don’t even know.

But now Yoongi had brought his face down to your neck, nuzzling it with his nose and pecking the sensitive spot at the base of your throat.

You could feel the change in the atmosphere, the air charged with electricity, heat flooding your body as the man in your arms sucked bruises onto the smooth skin of your neck and collarbones.

“Let’s go to my bedroom.” Yoongi rasped, voice husky with need.

You stumbled your way to his room, not wanting to take your hands off each other, Yoongi tearing at your clothes trying to undress you.

You broke away for a second and a whine left his lips in annoyance, you giggled at how needy he sounded. Taking off your top and pants you settled into the fluffy blankets of Yoongi’s bed as he hovered over you. Apparently Yoongi was more dominant than you had thought him to be. He continued lapping at your neck, butterfly kisses at your jaw and rough hands on your hips.

“I’m gonna mark you up, gonna let everyone know you’re mine. You’re mine, aren’t you, angel?” He kissed you again but this time it was with more force and urgency. As if he was afraid of you being a hologram, afraid that you would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“Yes, only yours Yoongi.” you gasped as he nipped at the spot below your ear. You felt wetness gush through your sex as his rough, calloused fingers swiped at your slit. Prodding at your leaking hole and giving an experimental rub at your swollen clit. A moan ripped through your throat at the feeling. You had been deprived of sex for way too long, along with your heightened emotions at being with the one you loved you were wetter than you’d ever been. 

And Yoongi knew this. “How are you so wet, angel?” he marvelled at the copious amounts of slick you were producing, his cock standing tall with pride knowing he had done this to you. “Yoongi please, I can’t wait anymore please fuck me.” you pleaded.

“Tsk-tsk Y/N. I need to prepare you first baby, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I’m wet enough Yoongi please, I need you so so badly please.” You were sure you looked close to tears, Yoongi looking at you with equal amounts awe, adoration and lust.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I really wanted to taste you before fucking you.”

“We can do that anytime else Yoongi please, please fuck me please!” you would’ve been embarrassed at how whiney you sounded any other time but right then you felt like you would die if another second passed and Yoongi wasn’t stuffed balls deep in your sopping cunt.

“Okay fine, angel lemme just grab the condom.”

“I’m clean, and on birth control. You can cum inside me but just fuck me please, I’m gonna die if I don’t feel you inside me!”

Yoongi groaned at your words, “Fuck, Y/N you’re gonna be the death of me. You’re talking like such a cumslut wanting me to fuck my cum inside you. You want my cum, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes Yoongi I do, please I want your cum so bad.”

“Well what my baby wants,” he says as he lines his cockhead against your cunt, “My baby gets.” He thrusts into you with unimaginable vigour, you feel stuffed and oh so full. Every ridge of his perfect cock pressing into the walls of your pussy. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your heels into his plush ass. “Yoongi please move.”

He pulls out of you all the way until only his tip rests inside your cunt and then slams back in with an animalistic growl. “You look so beautiful, my perfect little angel, my babygirl.”

You clench around his cock at the nicknames he showers upon you. He pulls out all the way to the tip and thrusts into you again with a jolt, sending you both slamming against the pillows. He does it once, twice, thrice and then you’ve lost count, forgotten your name and who you are as only one names lies on your tongue. Yoongi.

“I’m close Y/N, I want you to cum with me baby, come on angel.”

His hand reaches down between your conjoined bodies to where your clit meets his pubic bone as he thrusts mercilessly into you. Fingers rubbing furious circles against your clit, the squelching sounds of your juices making the scene even more perverse. And with a final thrust you’re cumming with a loud scream of his name as you feel spurt after spurt of hot cum rush deep inside your belly. You pant together as his cock softens inside you and his thick cum leaks out of your battered pussy.

But that can be overlooked for now because you’re in love and together and his arms feel like home when they pull you close to his chest.

You are at the brink of falling into deathlike sleep when you hear his soft voice flow to your ears, “This isn’t a dream, is it Y/N? You’ll be here in the morning, won’t you? Promise me you’ll be here.”

Your chest tightens at how unsure and meek he sounds, wanting to speak a thousand words and kiss him a hundred different ways to show him that you’re real. But in your tired state you settle for kissing the arm that’s around your chest and saying, “You can’t get rid of me even if you tried Min Yoongi. I love you. Now go to sleep and you’ll find me in the morning right here. In your arms.”

[sinkix]

《What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Nekoma Edition》

Yo-hoo! Here’s another part to this potential(?) series! I hope you enjoy the possible call-outs in some of these lmao. Writers block been kicking my ass recently but I had a lot of fun writing these. Enjoy <3

You can find the Karasuno ver. here 

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Kuroo:

Have a hand fetish and will not say no to choking.

Daddy kink™

Will not accept anything below 6 inches.

More of a dog person but would love to own a black cat.

You drool over tattoos.

Your grades are mostly B’s but you know in your heart you deserve that A, and tbh you probably do. Chase ur goals bby.

Halloween is likely your favourite holiday.

You have to resist not to carve a dick into the pumpkin EvEry GodDAmN YeAr.

You either study for 6 hours consecutively or cannot study at all and you get very frustrated at this.

Have the potential to be a good leader and command the room but probably don’t put it to use as much as you should.

Your playlist parkours from sad 3am crying into your pillow songs to aggressive punk music you could rob a store to.

You like bad boys who hang around bars and look like they would put out a cigarette on your forearm and call you a slut. Just stating facts sweaty xoxo.

Either dress very feminine and girly with a ‘smol girl uwu’ aesthetic or a hardass punk who would kick your ass for a can of beer no in between and tbh both are equally hot.

You’re a big softie at heart either way and just want to be held and told everything will be okay.

Ur a hoe for when people stroke your hair or caress your chin it’s your ultimate weakness.

Watched Rick & Morty.

Twice.

Sleeves rolled up veiny forearms and donning a silver watch are your muse and something you fantasise about frequently.

Most of your memes are shitty top text bottom texts that are somehow funny and I don’t understand why lmao.

You call someone ‘bro’ even if it’s someone you’re immensely attracted to.

Did someone say ties? No it’s just ur dirty ass thoughts thinking about that hot business dudes attire from across the street and how you wish they were tied around ur wrists.

Probably had a crush on Jeff the Killer as a tween and are relentlessly haunted by your old Wattpad library. 

Tbh any dark-haired dude with bedhead that screams rugged and probably not good for you is something that draws you like a moth to a flame.

You often question why every person you’ve fallen for has been a Scorpio and curse that tendency of yours.

Dw man they’re hot so I feel u.

Kenma:

Went through a ‘I’m not like other __’ phase and it’s something that you think about a lot and wish you didn’t.

Watched dan & phil as a kid.

Any mention of Pokemon has you turning into a rabid beast you get way too excited.

It’s cute though dw bby.

Pretty antisocial but interesting to talk to.

Your family often question how you’re able to sleep in till 3pm and judge you heavily for it.

Nocturnal night owl gang rise up.

Frequently have bags under your eyes but somehow manage to pull it off.

Listen to ASMR on the down-low and will never admit it to a single soul.

Frequently go on BL binges and have many related book marks.

You pray that someone will never find your laptop bc holy fuck the amount of smut on that.

You wear scarves & beanies even when it isn’t that cold outside.

100% went through a scene hair phase/attempted to.

You dye your hair a lot or REALLY want to.

You have a voice kink low-key so anyone with a pleasant/soothing sounding voice just gets u goin’.

Cats are your favourite animal and you either do or want to own several.

Would name them after video game/anime characters u fuckin nerd lol.

Speaking of cats ,you fantasise heavily about cat-boys and have a folder dedicated to them.

Oversized hoodies are your vibe and always ball the sleeve hems in your fist as a comfort mechanism.

Shopping centres are your worst nightmare and trigger your claustrophobia or social anxiety and honestly I feel that spiritually.

Have a cute sticky note collection.

You like a lot of music consisting of guitar and slow/soothing beats.

You also fw EDM/ techno on occasions.

Honestly wouldn’t wanna anger you since you have a seething temper when pushed far enough.

It’s the kinda temper that’s eerily quiet but no less terrifying, like the other person can tell you are graphically plotting their demise.

You love sleeping to the sound of rainfall and often play those nature ambience videos while you sleep.

Never tidy your sheets and it’s just a big scrunched up heap of fabric in the centre of your mattress most of the time.

Make your fucking bed.

Lev:

Your ships are chaotic and shamelessly controversial.

Would do something just for the sake of creating mayhem lmao.

You were the fucker who stuck their chewing gum under the desk, I see you.

Your brain never stops whirring it’s a constant hurricane of crackhead energy and you have no idea how to turn it off. 

Would eat a stick of pencil lead for $2

You don’t help your situation with the amount of coffee/energy drinks you consume.

The class clown who cries themselves to sleep.

Such a wholesome dumbass but somehow kinda intimidating??? 

Even if you’re not confident you can do something you’ll try anyway and honestly I respect that about you.

You !! use!!! a lot??!! of!! random punctuation!!! so you always??!?!? seem!!111!! excited!!!!!11!?

Every time you’ve ever tried to make a sandcastle it has failed.

You tried to eat the sand once but we don’t talk bout that.

You would  also pick up slugs and snails and chase your friends around with them.

Can never tell whether people are laughing with you or at you and while you don’t let it show it high-key bothers you when you’re laying alone in your room at night.

Not one to hold grudges, you carry a ‘shit happens’ mentality which is v good but it sometimes leads to people taking advantage of it or walking all over you.

Your meme collection is both questionable and horrifying.

Like how many cursed images and heavily distorted pictures does one person need.

Never organise the files on your PC/laptop so it looks like a complete dumpster fire.

The one at sleepovers who persistently woke everyone else up with their snickering and refusal to sleep till dawn.

For the love of Asahi charge your damn phone.

I see that red bar and ‘12%’

Charge it now.

Bought a plant one time, gave it a name and talked to it frequently.

It died not long after bc u forgot to fucking water it.

No one better ever make you responsible for a pet.

Type of person that when someone asks you to tag along on an endeavour no matter how stupid it is you will agree.

2am skydiving in france? hell yeah.

Midnight shopping spree and spending over half your pay check? count you in.

Exploring an abandoned hospital and performing an Ouija board to summon the demons of hell? you’re damn right you’ll be there.

I hope you have a mum friend by your side bc if not how are you still alive.

You sometimes put the milk in before the cereal and it’s something I’ll never forgive you for.

Yaku:

Very responsible and usually make the right decisions.

You do have moments where you act like a complete dumbass though.

Like u go from 50 year old to 5 year old in the blink of an eye.

A hopeless romantic but it’s a side you don’t often reveal.

Prefer strawberry milk over any other flavour.

You’re the type of person to shower twice a day w/o fail.

Where that stank smell coming from? Not you clearly bc your skin is basically 90% The Body Shop’s rose scented soap at this point.

You get stomach aches a lot and you can’t figure out why.

Probably an allergy to everyone’s bs.

Really good at dirty talk even though you don’t seem the type so people are always taken aback.

You have to be really in the mood though otherwise it falls flatter than Oikawa’s ass, use your skill wisely.

You often call people clowns when you know you’re secretly the biggest one going.

Honk honk, hoe.

You send messages in one paragraph rather than multiple texts unless you are REALLY excited.

People underestimate you at times then are shocked when they realise you are capable of being a fire-breathing dragon from the flaming pits of hell.

You like spicy chicken wings.

Such a petty little shit at times lmao.

Enjoy the view from the top of mountains so you either hike a lot or really want to.

Way more of a cat person since it’s just much more convenient for you.

Usually pretty cheerful or calm and people are drawn to your stable/friendly aura.

Went through a phase of drinking mountain dew and your body still feels the awful effects

Fav element is probably air.

You’re 5′6″ or shorter.

Box dyed your hair brunette several times and can never get the pigment out to this day.

Yamamoto:

Whenever you smell something weird in the room you always internally freak out and think it’s you.

Head-butting walls is your hobby.

You fell off your bike as a kid and still have the scar on your knee.

Probably have tons of ear piercings.

Would tame a pigeon and call it Larry.

You get frequent nosebleeds and can never tell if it’s a medical issue or your extreme simping for fictional men/women.

Hopefully the latter.

You constantly chew your pen/pencil in class so you never lend them to anyone out of embarrassment.

I really hope no one ever lends you stationery bc 30 minutes later it’ll look like it was mauled by a rabid rottweiler.

You really want to own a dog and would call it something intimidating like Banshee or Diablo.

You bleached your hair that one time and it almost fell out so now you’re forced to stay at least 10 metres away from all at-home hair dye products.

You tried your best though bby so A for effort, even if it did look like dehydrated ramen afterwards.

Your grades are mostly C’s and you’re barely passing bc you just don’t care about your classes lol.

Still though you’re actually pretty smart so put it to good use you lazy oaf, channel that crackhead energy into something good.

Your phone screen has several cracks in it from when you dropped it on the bathroom floor while shitting and you’ll always be angry at yourself for that.

You have some really weird quirks but you make it work.

Actually a v chill person but you just kinda attract chaos/trouble wherever you go.

Carry a lighter with you even when you don’t need one.

Shy texter but once people see you irl you are the complete opposite, you just dk how to text without coming across as awkward.

One of those people that’s unintentionally funny and always get confused when you make someone laugh but it makes you feel good regardless.

Have a cool necklace collection and own at least one dog-tag/army style pendant.

Should really consider buying a rabbit you would look so cute w/ one.

You have really nice legs and people should compliment them more.

Either severely dehydrated or overly hydrated to the point you are peeing pure tap water so for the love of god please learn moderation, your kidneys and bladder will thank you for it.

Inuoka:

Your favourite character would be Hinata but you like people taller than you so your love for Inuoka spawned.

You really enjoy using the double spiderman meme.

Cannot correctly verbalise your feelings without creating a minimum of 10 misunderstandings but once people are used to it it’s kinda endearing.

You usually wake up in a good mood and people can never fathom how or why.

You either stay up till 5am or you wake up at that time no in between.

A morning person bc you love the sunrise.

Change your lock-screen very regularly bc you get bored.

Your humour consists solely of poop jokes.

When you don’t understand a joke you laugh anyway and hope they don’t ask you if you actually get it.

Happened once and you’re still traumatised from the cricket silence that fell upon the room.

Really like the taste of lemonade and drink it more often than you should.

Often think about what you would look like with a shaved head.

More of an extrovert but def have occasional introvert tendencies where you wanna be left tf alone.

Never allowed to pick up anything in stores bc the last time you did you sniffed a scented candle and it shattered to the floor.

Constantly have spontaneous ideas of what to change about your appearance.

You use a lot of hand gestures like thumbs up and peace signs.

‘Dude’ and ‘lmao’ is 90% of your vernacular.

Your nails are a disaster, some are down to the nub while others are pretty grown out bc you only bite a select few please sort it out.

Look really good in red.

Your laptop has way too many tabs open from random google searches of words you didn’t know the meaning to.

You read a lot of books but for like 10 minutes at a time bc you have the attention span of a walnut.

You are the type of person to nuke your AO3 tags with things that aren’t even relevant purely bc you found them funny.

Your Tumblr drafts are a nightmare, you have like 100+ in the works yet keep starting new projects why do you do this.

Happy sunshine but you have a LOT of mood swings like that shit comes out of nowhere.

Cry pretty often but no one ever sees and it’s usually because of said mood swings.

You always smile and pick yourself up again though which I commend you for.

TYPES IN CAPITALS IN SITUATIONS THAT DO NOT REQUIRE SAID PUNCTUATION SO YOU SEEM LIKE YOU’RE YELLING ALL THE TIME.

[scifrey]

WORDS FOR WRITERS: The Value of Fanfiction

There’s been a lot of chatter on social media these last few weeks, recycling that trashy, self-aggrandizing, tired old “hot take” that reading and writing fanfiction is somehow bad for you as a writer.

Before we go any further, let me give a clear and definitive answer to this take:

No, reading and writing fanfiction will not make you and does not make you a bad reader or writer.

 Period.

 Why? Here’s the TL;DR version:

1)      Reading and Writing, any kind of reading and writing, will make you a better reader and writer. And it’s enjoyable, to boot.

2)      Fanfiction has been around as long as Original Fiction, so we’d know if there was any negative impact by now (spoiler alert: there isn’t.)

3)      Practice is Practice, so matter what medium you get that practice in.

4)      Comprehending and writing fanfiction is harder than writing original fiction because you have to hold the Source Media Text in your head at the same time as you’re reading/writing a different story. It improves your understanding of storytelling.

5)      No hobby, no matter what it is, so long as it doesn’t harm anyone else or yourself, is bad. And that goes double for if you decide to keep it a hobby. Not every fanfic writer wants to write original fiction, and that’s just fine. Not every hobby has to be monetized.

 Okay. But what do they mean by “fanfiction”?

 “Fanfiction is fictional writing written by fans, commonly of an existing work of fiction. The author uses copyrighted characters, settings, or other intellectual properties from the original creator as a basis for their writing.”-- Wikipedia

 Basically – it’s when you take elements (setting, characters, major themes or ideas) of a Media Text (a novel, a movie, a podcast, a comic, etc.) and create a different story with those elements. You can write a missing scene, or an extended episode, or a whole new adventure for the characters of the Media Text. You can even crossover or fuse multiple Media Texts, or specific elements, to create a whole new understanding of the characters or their worlds.

 Similar to fanfic, you can also create fanart, fancomics, or fansongs (“filk”), fancostumes (“cosplay”), and fanfilms. These are called Fanworks or Fancrafts.

 Fanfiction is usually posted to online forums, journals, blogs, or story archives and shared for free among the public. Before the advent of the internet, fanfiction was often printed or typed, and hand-copied using photocopiers or ditto machines, and distributed for free (or for a small administration fee to cover materials) among fans at conventions, or through mail-order booklets (“zines”).

 Fanfiction has existed pretty much since the beginning of storytelling (A Thousand and One Nights, Robin Hood, and King Arthur all have different elements attributed to them by different authors retelling, twisting, adding to, or changing the stories; there’s no single-origin author of those tales.)

 There are billions on billions of fanfics out there in the world—and while a majority of them are romance stories, there are also adventures, comedies, dramas, thrillers, stories based on case files, stories about the emotional connection between characters when one is hurt and the other must care for them, historical retellings, etc. There are also stories for every age range and taste, though be sure to take heed of the tags, trigger warnings, and age range warnings as your browse the archives and digital libraries.

 As a reader, it’s your responsibility to curate your experience online.

 So why are people so afraid or derisive of fanfic?

 People who are hard on fanfic say that…

 ·       It sucks.

o   Well of course it sucks! As it’s a low-stakes and easy way to try out creative writing for the first time, the majority of fanfiction is overwhelmingly written by new and young writers. Everything you do when you first try it sucks a little bit. 

I’m sure no figure skater was able to immediately land perfect triple axels ten minutes after they strap on the skates for the first time in their lives. No knitter has ever made a flawlessly perfect jumper on their first try. No mathematician has ever broken the code to send a rocket into space after having just been taught elementary-school multiplication. So why on earth do people think that new writers don’t need to practice? I can promise you that Lin-Manuel Miranda’s first rap was probably pretty shaky.

·       It’s lazy or it’s cheating.

o   Listen, anyone who tells you that writing anything is lazy clearly has not sat down and tried to write anything. Writing is tedious. It is boring. It takes hours, and hours, and hours to get anything on the page, and then once it’s on the page you have to go back and edit it. UGH. There is nothing about being a writer—even a fanfic writer—that is lazy.

o   And anyone who tells you that trying to tell a fresh, new story within the limits and confines of a pre-existing world and have it make sense is cheating, then they have no freaking clue how hard it is to be creative with that kind of limitation placed on you. It’s harder when you have a set of rules you need to follow. What you do come up with is often extremely interesting and creative because of those limitations, not in spite of them.

o   The argument that using pre-made characters, settings, tropes, and worlds to make up a new story is cheating is also complete bunk. Do those same people also expect hockey players to whittle and plane themselves a whole new hockey stick from scratch before each game? No, of course not. And yeah, a baker can grow all their own wheat, grind the flour, raise the chickens and cows so they can get eggs and milk, distill the vanilla, etc. Or a baker can buy a box mix. Either way, you get a cake at the end of the process. Whether you write fanfic or original fiction, you still get a story at the end of the process.

·       It makes you a worse writer.

o   * annoying buzzer noise * Practicing anything does not make you worse at it. And reading stories that are not edited, expertly crafted, or “high art” will also not indoctrinate you into being a bad writer. If anything, figuring out why you don’t like a specific story, trope, or writing style is actually a great way to learn what kind of writer you want to be, and to learn different methods of constructing sentences, creating images, and telling tales. Or you know, just how much spelling and grammar matter.

·       It’s not highbrow or thoughtful enough.

o   Sometimes stories are allowed to be just comfort food. Not every book or story you read has to be haute cuisine or boringly nutritious. You are allowed to read stories because they’re exciting, or swoony, or funny, or just because you like them. Anyone who says differently is a snob and worth ignoring. (Besides, fun silly stories can also be packed with meaning and lessons—I mean, hello, Terry Pratchett, anyone?)

·       It makes you waste all your time on writing that can’t be monetized.

o   No time is wasted if you spend it doing something that brings you joy. Not every hobby needs to be a money-maker and not everyone wants to be a professional writer. You are allowed to write, and read, fanfic just for the fun of it.

·       It’s theft.

o   According to Fair Use Law, it’s not. As long as the fanfic writer (or artist, cosplayer, etc.) is not making money on their creation that directly impacts or cuts into the original creator’s profit, or is not repackaging/plagiarizing the original Media Text and profiting off it’s resale, then Fan Works are completely legal. So there.

 How, exactly, does fanfic make you a better writer?

 Fanfiction…

 ·       teaches you to finish what you start.

o   The joy of being able to share your fic, either as you’re writing it, or afterward, is a big motivating factor for a lot of people. They finish because they get immediate feedback on it from their readers and followers. Lots of people have ideas for books, but how many of them do you know have actually sat down and written the whole thing?

o   Fanfic is also low-stakes; there’s nothing riding on whether you finish something or not, so you have to inspire yourself to get there without the outside (potentially negative) motivation of deadline or a failing grade if you don’t get the story finished. You end up learning how to motivate yourself.

o   Fanfic has no rules, so you write as much or as little as you want, stop wherever you think is a good place to end the story, write it out of order, or go back and write as many sequels or prequels as you like. Again, it’s totally low-stakes and is meant to be for fun, so you can noodle around with what it means to write a “whole” story and “complete” it, which teaches you how you like to write, and how you like to find your way to the finish line.

·       teaches you story structure.

o   Before you can sit down and write a story based on one of your favorite Media Texts, you’re likely to spend a lot of time consuming that text passively, or studying it actively. Either way, you’re absorbing how and why Media Text structures the stories it tells, and are learning how to structure your own from that.

o   Once you’re comfortable with the story structure the Media Text you’re working in is told, you’ll probably start experimenting with different ways stories can be told, and find the versions you like to work with best.

·       teaches you how to write characters consistently.

o   Fanfic is really hard because not only do you have to write your fave characters in a way that moves the story along, but they have to be recognizable as those fave characters.

o   This means you have to figure out their body language, verbal and physical tics, their motivations and they way the handle a crisis (fight, flight, or fawn?), and then make up the details you may need for your story that you may never see on screen/the page, like how they take their eggs or what their fave shampoo is, based on what you already know about them. That takes some top-notch detective work and character understanding to pull off.

o   Once you know how to do that, just making up a whole person yourself for original fiction is a breeze.

·       Teaches you how to hear and mimic a character/narrator voice.

o   You have to pay close attention to how an actor speaks, or how a character’s speech patterns, dialect, work choice, etc. is reflected on the page in order to be consistent in your story.

o   And all of this, in turn, teaches you how to build one for yourself.

o   I have a whole series of articles here about building a narrative voice, if you want to read more on constructing an original voice for your narrator.

·       Teaches you how to create or recreate a setting.

o   Again, like achieving character consistency, or mimicking a character or narrative voice, it takes work and paying attention in order to re-create a setting, time period, or geographical region in a fanfic—and if you’re taking your characters somewhere new, your readers will expect that setting to be equally rich as the one the Media Text is based in.

o   Which, again, teaches you how to then go and build an original one for yourself.

·       teaches how to take critique.

o   Professional writing is not a solitary pursuit. In fact, most writing is not entirely the work of an author alone. Like professional authors work with editors, critique partners, and proofreaders, some fanfiction writers will sometimes work with beta-readers or editors as well. This are friends or fanfic colleagues who offer to read your fanfic and point out plot, character, consistency, or story structure errors, or who offer to correct spelling and grammar errors. This is a great way to practice working with editors if you decide to pursue a professional career, and also a great way to make friends and strengthen your community and skill set if you don’t.

o   Many fanfic sites offer readers the opportunity to leave a comment on a fic, rather like a reviewer can leave a review on GoodReads or Amazon, or any other online store or blog, for a novel they’ve read. Sometimes these comments/reviews are 5 star and enthusiastic! Sometimes they are… not. The exact opposite in fact. As you get comments on your fanfic, and learn to ignore the ones that are just mean rather than usefully critical, you gain the Very Important Skill of learning to resist firing back at bad comments or reviews, while enjoying the good ones.  It also teaches you how to ignore drama or haters.

·       Teaches you how to exist within a like-minded community.

o   While the actual writing part of writing is solitary and sometimes tedious, nothing is ever published into a vacuum, whether it be fanfiction or original. Besides your editing/critique/beta reader group, you will also likely develop friendships, a support network, and mutuals. It’s always great to uplift, support, cheer on, and celebrate one another’s accomplishments and victories, whether the writing is fanfic or original.

·       Teaches you that it’s okay to write about things important to you, or your own identity.

o   You can change a characters ethnicity, cultural background, sexuality, religion, or disabilities to match yours, and talk about your lived life through the megaphone of that character. Or, you can insert original characters based on you, your desires, and experiences.

o   Once you’re comfortable writing in your #ownvoice in fanfic, you can approach it in original fiction, if you like.

o   See my article titled Your Voice Is Valid for more on this.

 What if I want to be a professional writer?

 Notice how I didn’t say “real writer”. Any writer who writes any kind of story is a ‘real’ writer. I mean, pinch yourself—you’re real, right? The difference is actually between being an “amateur” writer (a hobbyist who does not write for pay), and a “professional” (who is paid for their writing). Just because you only play shinny on the street with your friends, or in a house league on the weekends, it’s doesn’t mean  you’re not still as much of a hockey player as someone who plays in the NHL.

 Writing fanfiction before or at the same time as writing original fiction that you intend to sell is a great way to learn, or practice, everything I’ve mentioned above. If you read it widely, it will also expose you to different story telling styles, voices, and tropes than your reading of published fiction.

 ·       Can I sell my fanfic?

o   No. For fanfiction to remain under the umbrella of Fair Use Law, you cannot profit off your fanfiction. There’s some grey-area wiggle room around things like charging a small amount for a ‘zine or a PDF to cover administrative costs, but zero wiggleability around, say, selfpublishing your fanfic and charging heaps for it.

·       Can I “file off the serial numbers”?

o   “Filing of the series numbers” is when you take a fanfic you’ve written and essentially pull it apart, remove everything that’s clearly someone else’s Media Text, and reassembling the story so that it’s pretty much a completely original piece of creative writing.

o   Yes, you can sell these, provided your filing is rigorous enough that you aren’t likely to be dinged for plagiarism. It’s widely known that Cassandra Claire’s Shadowhunters was once Harry Potter fanfic, and that Fifty Shades of Gray was once Twilight fanfic. But did you know that my Triptych started life as an idea for a Stargate Atlantis fic? There’s lots of stories out there that were once full fics, or the idea for the novel was originally conceived for a fandom, but written as original instead.

o   So long as you’re careful to really rework the text so that it’s not just a find-name-replace-name rewrite, you should be fine.

o   Be aware, though, that the agents and editors you might pitch this novel to know how to Google. They may discover that this is a filed-off story, and depending on their backgrounds and biases, might be concerned about it. There’s no need to inform them of the novel’s origin straight off in your pitch/query letter, but you may want to have a frank discussion with them about it after it’s been signed so they can help you make sure that any lingering copywrited concepts or characters are thoroughly changed before publication.

o   Should you take down the original fic-version of the novel while you’re querying/shopping it? Well, that’s up to you, and whether you’re comfortable with an editor/agent potentially finding it.

·       Should I be ashamed of my fic, or take it down, or pretend I never wrote fic?

o   What? Why? No! I mean, I have hidden some of my most immature work, but I’ve left pretty much my whole catalogue of fanfic online and I don’t deny that I was/am a ficcer. Why? Because it’s a great repository of free stories that people can read before they buy one of my books, so they can get a taste of how and what I write. Also, you will be in good company. Lots and lots of writers who are published now-a-days started in fandom, including:

Steven Moffat

Seanan McGuire

Rainbow Rowell

Claudia Gray

Cory Doctorow

Marissa Meyer

Meg Cabot.

Naomi Novik

Neil Gaiman

Lev Grossman

S.E. Hinton

John Scalzi

The Bronte Sisters

Andy Weir

Sarah Rees Brennan

Marjorie M. Liu

Anna Todd

...and me, J.M. Frey

 How fanfic can harm.

 Like with anything else, there are ways that reading and writing fanfiction can actually harm you, or others, but it has nothing to do with the reading or writing of fanfiction in and of itself.

 ·       Some creators may prefer that you don’t (and may or may not follow up with legal action).

o   Anne Rice famously went after fanficcers in the 90s who wrote fanfic of her work, handing out Cease & Desist notices like confetti.

o   99% of creators don’t care. Those who do will generally have a notice on their websites or social media politely asking fancreators to refrain. Mostly this is due to their general discomfort over the idea of anyone else getting to play in their worlds. The best thing to do is respect that request, and find a different fandom to write in.

·       Flamewars and fandom fights leading to bullying and doxing.

o   Regrettably, just like any other community filled with people who have different favorites, opinions, and preferences, there will inevitably be clashes. It’s up to you to decide how to react to negative interactions, and how to model positive ones.

o   Don’t forget, you curate your online experience, so don’t be afraid of that block button.

o   Also, don’t be the jerk who goes after people for liking different aspects of the fandom. Everyone is entitled to interact and like a Media Text their own way. “Don’t yuck my yum,” as they say.

·       Trying to make money on other people’s IP/Media Text (law suits, etc.)

o   It doesn’t belong to you, so don’t try to make money on it.

o   There’s a grey area here in terms of selling prints/plushies/jewelry/etc. and there’s no hard line about where one copyright owner will draw the line, and another won’t. Warner Bros. owns the film rights for both Harry Potter and Hunger Games, but I’ve seen Harry Potter-themed bars spring up while fans wanting to make Hunger Game fanfilms have been shut down. A friend of mine sells hand-made fandom-inspired items at cons—there is no rhyme or reason to what she gets told to stop making and what she’s left alone on.

o   Best thing to do if you’re told to stop is just so stop, move on, and find a different fandom to be active in.

·       Writing Real Person Fanfic (“RPF”) can be considered a violation of consent.

o   This article sums it up pretty well, but basically… if you decide to write RPF, be aware that they person you are writing about is a real person, with real thoughts, and emotions, and they may feel violated by RPF. If you decide to write it, never send it to the people it’s about, and always clearly tag it so other can choose to engage with it, or avoid it.

o   Also be aware that it could ruin their love for what they do. For example: the friendships between the members of 1Direciton became strained and the band eventually disintegrated because people wouldn’t stop sending band members smutty stories or art of them having sex with one another, and it made them too uncomfortable to continue in the band.

·       Showing/sharing fanfic & fanart outside of its intended context. Fanworks are for fans, and there are definitely issues if…

o   It’s shown to celebrities/actors/creators.

  Shoving your fantasies onto the people who create or portray your fave characters is rude, and wrong, and also kinda gross. If they seek it out themselves, that’s one thing, but the same way you wouldn’t throw it at a complete stranger, don’t throw it at them. You may love the characters these people play, but they are not their characters, and they are not your friends.

  It may also really weird them out and ruin their love for what they do.

o   it’s shown to writers working on the series.

  There was a famous case where a fanficcer sent a story to a novelist, and the novelist was accused of plagiarism by the ficcer when their next novel in the series resembled the plot of that fanfic. There was a whole court case and everything.

  Because of this, writers of TV shows, books, etc. don’t want to (and often times, legally can’t) read your fanfic. They don’t want to get accidentally inspired by what you’ve written, or worse, have to throw out something because it resembles your fic too closely. Just let them write their stories the way they want, and if they choose to seek out fic, they will.

o   it’s mocked by celebrities.

  I’m not letting Alan Carr and Graham Norton off the hook. If it’s super rude and gross to shove fanworks at actors/writers/creators when you’re a creator, then it’s doubly rude for anyone to take a story or art made for a specific audience (the fans), by a specific community (the fans), lift it out of it’s context, and invite the public to mock it while also shoving it at the actor/celebrity in a place where they are literally cornered and can’t leave (i.e. the chat-show sofa). Man, it really steams me up when they do that. It’s rude and it’s tone-deaf, and it’s not fair.

  And most of the time they do it, they don’t even ask the artist or writer for permission, first, which is just…. Uuuuugggghhhh. It may be fanfic, but it was still created by someone, and you should always ask permission before publicly sharing something created by someone else.

  Grrrrrrr.

 In Conclusion

 If someone tells you that reading or writing fanfic is bad for you as a creator, tell them to get bent.

Famous Fanfic

·       Hamilton by Lin-Manuel Miranda

·       Wicked by Gregory Maguire

·       Wicked: the Musical by Stephen Schwartz

·       The Phantom of Manhattan by Fredrick Forsyth

·       A Study in Emerald by Neil Gaiman

·       Sherlock by Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat

·       The Dracula Tape, by Fred Saberhaugen

·       Paradise Lost, John Milton

·       Inferno, by Dante

·       The Aeneid, by Virgil

·       Ulysses, by James Joyce

·       Romeo & Juliet, by William Shakespeare

·       The Once and Future King by T.H. White

·       A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, by Mark Twain

·       The Three Musketeers, by Alexandre Dumas

·       Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, by Seth Grahame-Smith

·       Phantom, a novel of his life by Susan Kaye

·       …and so many more.

[depths-of-hope-and-despair]

Doubts

The next day, Aditi opted to clear her conscience by planning for the future. The next few days, she could visit Hajime and talk out her concerns. The Trifle situation was... more difficult. She paced outside her sister’s door for.. hours it felt like. In reality, it was only five minutes of hyping herself up, only to chicken out and speed walk back to her room. Her brain being so busy with ideas and studying dreams means she felt exhausted by the end of the day. Enough to fall asleep normally instead of with alcohol.

She suspected these dreams in her sleep was a form of self-analysis. That Albert was merely a character that existed in her head, that she could use to learn about herself. But, his reactions were independent of her? That wouldn’t make much sense. Least to say, when the dream blurred into her vision, she was the first to speak this time. “Do you exist independently from these dreams?” She blurred out without giving a second to consider waiting.

“Good day to you too.” Albert responded without the usual bravado, reading through the notebook he had been writing in the whole time, clapping it shut again, the usual smile appearing back on his face as he responded casually: “I don’t see how this is relevant to our progression, Aditi. If we were here to smalltalk and dilly dally, I would have met you in a cafe.”

He smirked a little as he remarked: “Dilly dallying is quite the entertaining word, don’t you think?” He chuckled to himself as he opened a drawer in his desk, procuring some papers, eyes roaming over them.

“You’re as humorous as you are straightforward, Doctor.” Aditi muttered in annoyance.

“For today I thought we could do a little personality test. Nothing too intrusive, it is just there to distinguish your basic characteristics, like punctuality, empathy, introversion or extraversion etcetera etcetera, you can also choose not to answer if you are not comfortable. All of these questions can be responded with ‘yes’ or ‘no’, you do not need to elaborate in any way.”

Aditi folded her arms together, much like a pouting child and rolled her eyes. She figured that questioning him any further was a dead end at this point. He was fair too cryptic and waffling to let her in on secrets. With a disappointed huff, she nodded to give her agreement to the test.

He wrote Aditi’s name on the paper and then read some of the questions to her:

“When I see someone crying, I feel the urge to hug them and try to make them feel better.”

“I often miss public transportation.”

“You can find me at the club every Friday night.”

“Family is extremely important to me.”

“I need social interactions every day to function.”

“I like to try out new things.”

The first, made her pause. Did she feel the need to hug or comfort anyone she saw crying? The answer was no. Crying only immediately provoked curiosity in her. Her sympathy pains only seemed to be accessible only with her loved ones. People she knew, and already could appreciate. Both being true, her choice was to stay neutral. “No answer.”

The second was simple. The few times she relied on public transportation, she was never late. Rather she stressed about being early. “No.”

The third took no time either. Easily assumed, she was a wallflower, and hardly ever had fun at parties. Unless illegal means were involved. “No.”

Family. The ones she chose as family, yes. Celia? Trifle? Knifu? The first name, no. The second.. yes? And the third was yes. So, she decided to follow suit. “Yes.”

Did she need to interact with someone everyday? No. She went without it for years being raised by Celia. “No.”

Trying new things? Adventure. Discovery. Absolutely. “Yes.”

He nodded along to her answers, occasionally looking down to jot the right square, a smirk edging on his face at the attitude Aditi was giving him. “Are you doubting my measures? Just wait for it. By the end of this test you might be surprised by how much more I know about you. I’ll just need a day to properly evaluate it.”

Amusement was edging on his face, a weird static atmosphere starting to fill the office as he continued with his questions, making sure his voice was clear so there wouldn’t be misunderstandings.

Aditi stared back defiantly, clearly not buying his claim. Answering a few questions with yes or no wasn’t nearly enough to get an idea of what that person was like. The static noise and atmosphere didn’t phase her outside of a more narrowed sharp gaze. He continued:

“I regularly go on holidays.”

“I suffer from thoughts that don’t seem to be my own.”

“I don’t understand social cues often.”

“I have a hard time imagining myself in someone else's shoes.”

“I feel the urge to physically harm people that have done me wrong.” His eyes flicked up to her for a moment to see her reaction.

Regular holidays? That referred to taking breaks and enjoying the company of others, didn’t it? “Yes.” She nodded.

Hear thoughts that aren’t her own? She remembered struggling with this since childhood, even before Celia. “Yes.”

Social cues. At first, she struggled with them desperately. Nowadays? She was fair better at reading the room, but not too comfortable to call herself an expert. “Yes.”

This one was easy. A perspective empathy question. She often exorcised her ability to relive the memories of others, in order to gain more empathy for them. While it was intrusive, it was the fastest way to understand. “No.”

The last question caused some amount of discomfort. She clearly didn’t like the question. But she disliked her answer even more so. “... Yes.” She admitted, glancing away while doing so.

His grin widened at her answers, quickly writing down the answers and reassuring her. “You‘re doing great. Don’t worry, we are almost done...” He flipped the page, a soft singing was audible, so quiet it could almost be missed. It sounded like a little girl singing a nursery rhyme, but in another language, so it wasn’t sure what she was singing.

When he talked, it sounded like multiple voices, hushed whispers accompanying him like backup singers, but the man himself didn’t pay it any mind, continuing as if nothing weird was going on.

“I wish that I had more friends than I actually have.”

“I feel the urge to harm people for no clear reason.”

“I feel scared of what the future holds for me.”

“I feel guilty.”

“I feel disliked by people around me.”

“Get out of here.”

His voice was very quiet compared to the whispers that were accompanying him, maybe those weren’t actually the questions he was asking and just the whispers, but he looked at Aditi expectantly. The whispers were still audible, telling Aditi to leave.

Aditi listened to the whispers and singing combining together into a whirl of madness. It was much like a nightmare, one of the standard ones that showed anxiety in others. People could hear voices of disdain talking to them mostly when they themselves felt judged by others. None of this triggered her into a breakdown thankfully, only medical themes or visions of past mistakes caused her to falter. While unnerved, she pressed forward, eyes narrowing in response to his encouragement.

Did she want more friends? She has been told many times that she isn’t easy to approach, and when she takes initiative that can turn poorly as well. Part of her wishes was that she looked more inviting. “Yes.”

A desire to harm others for no reason. Generally, no. She didn’t want to hurt people without reason. Only when she lost control did she feel that impulse. Of course, she considered herself a sadist to an extent also. Those factors made this question difficult to answer. “No answer.”

Scared of the future? Who isn’t scared of the future? Of the unknown? It’s only natural to feel that way, right? “Yes.”

Guilty. She barely had to think of her answer. “Yes.”

Does she feel disliked? That’s strange too. Her whole life, she was surrounded by people who wanted to kill her, or adored her. The laboratory experiment children would’ve gladly watched her drop dead. The cultist would’ve given their lives for her. Only now was there a happy medium. But... the bitterness of the past wouldn’t let her see on the brighter side. “Yes.”

“Very good, Aditi. You are doing great. We are almost done actually.“ He jotted more stuff down, his expression looking a little off from just a few seconds ago.

“I just have 5 more questions for you and then we can end tonight’s session.“ he informed her, turning the Page, fingers tightening around the paper and crumpling it lightly. He opened his mouth, but suddenly his voice was completely gone. It was like he got muted, in his place the whispers filling the room. He still held eye contact, though it was more like he was looking through Aditi, something clearly on his mind. And instead of the questions she heard:

“I’m sorry this is all my fault.”

“You don’t deserve this.”

“It should have never come to this.”

“He’s hunting you. He’s a monster.”

“Get out of here.”

His mouth closed again and he looked at Aditi expectantly, waiting for her answers. He looked less worried and more hopeful now, a giddy glint in his eerie eyes.

While shutting out the instructive thoughts was easy enough when she could hear a voice over them. Now? No. It wasn’t easy at all. Not easy to stare straight again. Not easy to keep from flinching every time the voice asked a question. Not easy to hold her neutral gaze. It reminded her all too much of how it felt to lose control. To be consumed by despair. Her thoughts no longer being her own, only whispers and taunts, keeping her at bay, pulling her down to let her instincts do all of the work. Her head felt.. fuzzy. Aditi felt similarly at this moment. Her lips curled into an uncomfortable scowl. What the hell is this? It hadn’t been nearly this unsettling the other times they spoke. What was getting in the way?

Or.. was this the plan all along? To earn her trust more, only to make the dreams devolve into hellish nightmares? She sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case.

The whispers suddenly stopped as he opened his mouth again, asking Aditi: “Are you alright, Aditi? You look a bit pale.“

Something really didn’t want this session to continue. But if the doctor noticed, he did a good job at hiding it.

“..... I couldn’t hear your questions.” She admitted quietly, her eyes shifting around the room carefully. “Voices spoke over you. Whether they were in my head or not, I’m uncertain. They are...” She paused once again, thinking over if she should be honest or not in this situation. Ultimately, she decided against lying. “They are.. apologizing to me? Saying I do not deserve this. It should’ve never come to this? He, whoever that is, seems to be hunting me. He is a monster? They are.. telling me to leave..”

He regarded her, expression serious as he listened to Aditi, contemplating something for a few seconds, then ultimately sighing. He looked around the room again, as if he could make out the voices and silence them, ultimately deciding to try and explain: “It is probably your subconsciousness running wild from stress...“

He set the test aside, leaning forward to give Aditi a comforting touch. It was cold as ice.

“Let us end the session a little early, alright? You don’t need to answer those questions. I’ll just review the test without them.“ he reassured her, a sad glint in his eyes.

“Orabelle.”

The voices were a lot quieter now, but it was probably for the better to end this meetup earlier to start better off on the last one.

“Rest easy, Aditi. I’ll see you tomorrow.“

Aditi didn’t understand. She sat with shifting eyes, looking left to right like a frightened child. It made her feel weak for her emotions to be easily sensed or stated. It felt wrong to hear her dead name be spoken aloud in her ear, so wrong that it caused her to flinch back and fumble. Her eyes narrowed so angrily at the voice, she nearly forgot to take his hand. “... This was a mistake..” Her grip on his hand was uncomfortably tight now, she seemed to seethe with contempt.

This only happened after she put faith in him and gave away sensitive information about her past. She thought it was of little consequence, yet here it was... being shoved in her face. Taunting her. This being was taunting her, wasn’t he? Mocking her. Before she could convey her distrust, the dream had faded away like the smoke of fireworks.

[acreativeme]

Going to Work Mad

WARNING: THERE IS A MENTION OF A SHOOTING AND DRUGS

Request: hey, i wanted one with jay halstead. Jay arguing with his partner and she being shot, with a final fluff.

“Why are you being so overprotective, Jay? This isn’t my first UC, hell it’s not even my second or third!” Y/N asked, slamming her locker shut. 

Jay rolled his eyes, pushing off the lockers he was leaning against. “This isn’t some college dealer sting, Y/N. These are some of the most dangerous members of the Lorenzo Cartel, they are gonna see right through you.”

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the anger boiling in her chest. “College dealers? Is that what you think I was dealing with in Boston, Jay? You think the irish mob is a bunch of ‘college dealers’, huh?”

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, Jay nodded. “Obviously. They aren’t like the gangs we see here in Chicago.”

Y/N stepped around the bench, moving closer to Jay as she spoke. “Really, Jay? Have you ever had to watch an innocent 15 year old girl get wiped and burned alive for rejecting an arranged marriage with an much older man? Or seen a 13 year old boy have to execute his own brother, because said brother talked about wanting to be a cop?” At this point, Y/N was up in his face. “Have you ever come upon a body with no tongue or eyeballs and shredded vocal cords? And when I say shredded, I mean like shredded chicken.”

Jay visibly gulped, taking a step away from Y/N. “This is different. You are going under as a prostitute, not a dealer.”

She shook her head, turning away from Jay. “Jay, you don’t get it. I wasn’t just a dealer in Boston. I was a prostitute as well. The only difference is that I am not actually going to have to sleep with anyone here.” 

Y/N picked up her UC bag and walked out of the locker room, putting an end to their argument. 

~Before~

Y/N stood in front of Kim, staring off into space as Kim laced up her mic. Her and Jay’s fight played in her head, distracting her from the conversation going around her. She and Jay had been partners since before Erin left 4 years ago, which made her believe that he had some faith in her. ‘But apparently not.’ 

“Got it, Y/N?” Voight asked, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts.

“What?” She responded, looking around at her teammates.

Kevin stepped up. “The code word is cherries. So, that is what you will say in case you are in danger and need assistance.”

She nodded, slipping her leather jacket over her shoulders. “Gotcha. I can work that into a conversation.”

Voight clapped his hands together. “Alright! Let’s roll!”

Dressed in a tight leather skirt, maroon crop top, 5-inch black heels and leather jacket, Y/N strutted passed Jay. Jay glared after her, tugging at his vest. 

Kevin stepped up to him, watching her walk away. “She looks fine. “

Jay looked over at him, “shut up.” 

Kevin laughed as Jay moved to get in the van. 

~During~

Y/N fixed her jacket as she walked up to the bar, brushing passed intoxicated party-goers. She locked eyes with Kevin, who was sipping on a beer, for a brief second, before leaning between two anonymous females to order her drink. 

“What can I get ya?” A tatted up man asks, wiping his hands on a towel.

 Y/N bit her lip, “can I get Dirty Ricky?” She batted her eyes at him. 

He clicked his tongue. “Are you sure, little Lady?”

She nodded slowly, pulling a roll of cash out of her purse. “I am sure.”

He grabbed the roll from her, nodding towards the door at the end of the bar. “Meet me at the door.”

Y/N nodded, pushing away from the bar. She tapped her purse three times, to signal Kevin. “I’m going back, guys.” She whispered to the team. 

“Stay alert, Y/L/N” Voight’s husky voice rang through her earpiece. 

“Got it.” She knocked on the door, walking around the bartender that opened the door.

The man led her to another backroom, where there were three large men and a well-dressed woman. There were multiple little baggies of crystal meth and stacks of pre-counted cash neatly organized on the table between the four of them. 

The bartender whispered in the woman’s ear, handing her the roll of cash. The woman nodded, waving him off as he finished speaking. “So, you are looking for some Dirty Ricky.” The woman’s voice was like velvet. “Are you sure you want something that strong?” She clasped her hands together. 

Y/N shifted in her spot. “Yeah, I am supposed to be going to rehab, so I need something strong to last me.” She started rubbing her arms as if she was itching for another fix. 

The woman stood up from her chair, signaling for the men to stay seated. “Rehab, you say. What rehab?” The woman played with a gun.

Y/N stepped back, racking her brain for a rehab name. “Rebirth. It’s in California. My folks want me far away from my triggers.” 

The woman looked at the men, who seemed to be searching the internet. The balding man was the first to speak. “No such rehab exists in California.” 

The woman tsked as she looked back at Y/N. “Now, why are you lying about going to rehab?” 

Y/N pretended to bite her nails. “I was hoping for a discount, you know.” 

The woman popped the clip out of the gun, to count the bullets. “I don’t know who told you about me or told you I do discounts, but they were lying to you little lady.” She slid the magazine back into the gun. She circled around Y/N, looking her up and down. “When was the last time you used?” 

Rolling her shoulders, Y/N bounced on her toes. “Two days ago.” 

“Tsk. Now, I know that is a lie. You aren’t showing any signs of withdrawal.” She circled around Y/N to stand in front of her. “There is no way you are an addict.”

Panic rose in Y/N’s chest, “woah! I’ve just been curving the cravings.”

The woman shook her head, tsking. “I’m calling bullshit.” Not wasting anytime, the woman let off two shots. One hit Y/N in the shoulder, while the second hit in her abdomen.

Y/N screamed out in pain, hitting the ground. She could hear the team breach the building, Voight was calling in an ambulance as Kevin knocked in the door. Despite the intense amount of pain, Y/N tried to put pressure on her abdomen wound. Black orbs started to form as the team formed a circle around her and their suspect. She could feel Jay’s eyes burning holes into the side of her face, but she was more focused on the red pool growing under her. 

The suspect muttered under her breath. “I fucking knew you couldn’t be a junkie.” She set the gun down, surrendering to the team. Voight and Adam cuffed the suspect, allowing the rest of the team to assess Y/N or go get the EMTs that showed up. 

Jay was the first to fall at her side, replacing her weak hand with his strong one. “I can’t believe you got yourself shot.” His voice shook. 

She laughed, breathlessly. “Are you gonna tell me ‘you told me so’?” She asked as she fell out of consciousness.

“No..” He whispered, stepping back to let the EMTs work.

~At the Hospital~

Y/N was in surgery for 10 hours, due to both bullets hitting bone and breaking into fragments. She had also lost a lot of blood, so they had to make sure she got an infusion of clean matching blood. While most of the team came in and out of her room, Jay remained a constant figure. He sat at her bedside, left hand clasped in hers.

Voight and Platt stood in the doorway, watching Jay talk softly to his partner. Both were stunned by the care he showed towards the injured detective. “I’ve seen him like this.” Platt stated, taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee.

Voight grunted in agreement. “Not even with Erin.” Y/N started to stir, signaling that it was time for the older officers to leave.

They shared a knowing look and turned away from the door, giving the pair some privacy. Neither Jay or Y/N spoke. Jay simply poured her a cup of water, letting her take small sips before sitting back in his chair. 

“How long have you been here, Jay?” Y/N asked, voice still raspy from the anesthesia.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, looking down sheepishly. “The whole time you've been out.”

Y/N leaned back a little further and noticed that he was still in the same clothes that he wore to the bust, the only difference was that they now had blood stains. “You should change and get some sleep, Jay. You are covered in my blood.” Y/N’s voice was laced with strong emotion. 

Jay shook his head, “No. I am okay.”

Y/N squeezed his hand. “I am okay, Jay. You don’t have to stay with me. I will be okay for a few hours.”

He just continued to shake his head. “I’m not leaving you again.” His voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you today. And all I could think about was our stupid fight and how much I wanted to tell you that I love you. I am so sorry, Y/N.” He leaned down and sobbed into her hands.

Shocked by his confession, Y/N’s mouth fell open. “Jay…” She whispered, causing him to lift his head. “I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

With a wide grin, Jay cautiously pulled Y/N into a passionate kiss.

[thegreenfaery]

The Quarterly Review

I’ve been absent for a while so I’m going to treat you all to an utter shitpost of my year so far. You may want to sit down for this because it’s a thrilling ride (this is a lie, but there are pictures of questionable quality, so you have that going for you).

January 2021

Of all the things that have ever happened, January was one of them. As in it came, it happened, it went. It was a dull and dismal blur of a month that at the time seemed to never end.

I did, however, get promoted from “Kitchen Manager” to “Communications Officer” for our local WI. 

In celebration of this, I finally taught myself to knit. (Look, I’m an old person trapped in what often feels like an even older body. Sue me. Actually, please don’t. I can’t afford it.)

Anyhoo, here’s the result.

This hat may be my single greatest achievement ever. Possibly second to the time my Abyssinian guinea pig, Bubbles, won a “Special” rosette at the Cavy Club show. I think I won a grand prize of 72p. 

[Before anyone asks, yes people breed and show guinea pigs. Shit’s more competitive than Crufts. If you want to see posh knobs being cliquey, two-faced and passive aggressive that’s the place to go. Mum’s favourite moment (after a run of winning Best of Breeds, much to the chagrin of said posh knobs) was informing everyone that her Best in Show boar was purchased from a lowly pet shop. ]

February 2021

For those of us in the UK, the end of December 2020 brought with it the entertainment that are Parish Council meetings.  The drama from one particular Parish Council and come February, it had gone viral. >>See here<< 

As much of the country was completely bewildered by what they were witnessing, for me, this was the stuff of nightmares.

I had been elected as Chairwoman of my local Parish Council in November 2019 after its own long-running pissing contest (which I am fairly certain has been going on since before I was even born) came to a head. It was pretty obvious that I was elected because certain individuals assumed that I would be a total pushover. Unfortunately for them, I actually took the time to read through and fully digest all of the policies and procedures and came to the same conclusion as multiple clerks- that those individuals were in the wrong. And so I put my foot down with a firm hand. Cue threats of legal action and months of harassment before I ultimately decided ‘Stuff this for a game of soldiers. I don’t get paid for this.’ and tendered my own resignation. (The straw that broke the camel’s back was the recurrence of psychogenic blackouts and hemiplegic migraines caused by the stress. They are not fun, and I can think of much better ways to spend my time.)

Are all Parish Council meetings like Handforth’s? No. But I certainly witnessed the same level of hostility and venom at my local meetings, it was just displayed in a much more covert and conniving fashion. This is what happens when people of a certain age with far too much time on their hands and an unbelievable sense of self-importance are given a whiff of what they think is power. 

March 2021

With all of this in mind, when my queen and hero, @recurring-polynya​, posted this gem in March, I nearly died. 

Also in March: the bathroom and en suite were officially finished!; I got my anaesthetic infusion (for fibromyalgia); and our WI delivered one of these little gift bags to each member:

April 2021

Which brings us neatly to April and Easter. 

I got to see my Mum for the first time in forever, and we both sat there wearing rabbit ears for over three hours, triggering an existential crisis in Sherbet the cat. Are there photos? No. This is standard behaviour.

Remember Jack?

Well, if you think you’ve had a bad year so far, imagine being a dog and being told on the very first day of January that you are allergic to: chicken, beef, turkey, potatoes, rice... This is by no means the complete list. He can, however, eat venison. Which, according to Mum, is very expensive. I guess you could say it’s very deer.

Ay? Ayyy? Ahahaha! Geddit? Deer. Ahhh... I’ll see myself out.

Anyway, Mum and I went on a walk with the gruesome twosome (Jack and his brother, Teddy), and this muppet tried to pull me into the very muddy, very smelly, very wet dyke. 

Thankfully, I didn’t quite make it all the way there, and so was only mostly covered in mud, not completely covered in mud.

Turns out that Jack really likes watching telly. He especially enjoyed whichever iteration of Jurassic Park was on at the time. Big, noisy dinosaurs are very much his thing.

Being a sensitive soul, Teddy is somewhat less interested what’s on the screen, and would much rather ponder the deep and meaningful questions in life, such as ‘Who is a good boy, then?’.

April was a month full of sharp, pointy needles for me. Which is to say I am now vaccinated against ‘The Covid’, have been stuffed full of botulinum type A (39 injections in my head, neck and shoulders in one go), and been visited by Nurse Dracula for blood tests. Is this why the earlier photo of me in The Hat shows me to be the same colour as the wall? Quite possibly.

I’m also excited for the possibility of starting immunotherapy (Fremanezumab) towards the end of June. This is the treatment that will complete my transformation into a hamster. (Or will hopefully relieve the constant pain that is chronic migraine. One of the two.)

Of course, April means that we’re well into spring, which means what better time to start making Christmas cards? I mean, that’s normal, right?

Spring also means getting the garden summer ready. The roses are looking healthy. The triffid cosmos’ are coming back. The self-seeding linaria are taking over. The wildflower lawn is full of cowslips and violets. Our baby fruit trees are covered in blossom. (One of which was subject to a minor mishap last spring when the wind upended an entire packet of loose Scabiosa Atropurpurea ‘Black Knight’ seeds next to it. And there are most certainly a lot of something growing quite merrily in a perfect square around it, only I am fairly certain that the things that are growing are Papaver Paeonies. This is doing me a heckin’ bamboozle. Either way, I am steadily thinning them out and moving them to a more suitable spot. Preferably not 0.0002mm away from my Worcester Pearmain apple.)

We have fat birbs. We’re talking full on chonkers. The blackbirds have munched their way through £25 of mealworms in less than a fortnight. Plus half a tub of fat balls. The sparrows are the same shape, as are the robins. As for Gilbert the woodpigeon...

The solitary bees have hatched from their tin can bee hotels. So far, we have determined that we have ash and tawny mining bees as well as masonry bees. We have also spotted a parasitic (possibly cuckoo) bee, which seem to target mining bees for their cosy homes. There are bumble bees and honey bees. There are so, so many bees. **Insert customary Oprah gif here**

I have ordered ALL OF THE PLUG PLANTS for hanging baskets. Which ones? ALL OF THEM. I am going into direct competition with Mr Britain-in-Bloom-Winner Begonia-Baskets down the road.

Pfft. Who are we kidding? 

He doesn’t stand a chance. 

[dreamcatcherfication]

Welcome to the Murder House - Lights Up on Hampton High

Fuck it. I wasn’t going to post anything today, mush less this, but I thought I’d surprise you all. The only person who really knows about this is @theatergirl06 who read half of the first chapter way back during our ask war (it’s been over a month since then, I think!). I have the whole plot written out already, but I realized I would never finish this unless I started posting and pushed myself to work on it.

A little context! This is my high school/murder mystery AU that’s been in my google drive for a while now (no, it’s not based on WATT - not majorly, at least). PSA: I’m using American style high schools because I’m not British and I don’t want to mess something simple up. I’m cruel, and let’s just say there are going to be many, many plot twists. Also Parrlyn is in there. But enough rambling - it’s time I welcome you... Welcome to the Murder House, please enjoy your stay.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

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Trigger Warnings: Talk of death, the typical amount of swearing/insults you’d expect from high schoolers, brief slut shaming/sexual harassment, high school bullying, mentions of parental abuse

Anne Boleyn was the most popular girl in school, and it was obvious to anyone just why. She was the prettiest girl around with the most desirable figure. She had a sharp wit, ready to cut anyone who got too close for comfort, yet at the same time drew everyone in. Everyone at Hampton High bowed down at the feet of Anne Boleyn, worshipping her very existence. Any newcomer to the school would immediately be enlightened on her legendary rise to fame.

The only thing Anne Boleyn was more infamous for than her rise to power was her fierce protectiveness over her cousin, Katherine Howard. Katherine was only a sophomore but she had quickly climbed the ranks at Hampton due to Anne keeping her close at all times. It was rare to see the cousins separated outside of their classes. 

Kitty Howard was an innocent lamb compared to the predator that Anne was among the student body. Anne sheltered her from any boy wishing her harm and attacked anyone who even looked at Kitty wrong. Unaware to Anne, this backfired on Kit, keeping her from making any friends of her own other than the seniors Anne deemed acceptable to be around Kitty.

This included Anna von Cleves and Cathy Parr, two of Anne’s classmates whom she had the most faith in. Anna was vulgar and unafraid to fight someone bold enough to challenge her, a butch senior with a history of disciplnary trouble. Anne had known Anna since elementary school when their teachers thought it would be fun to pair the two together due to their names. On the other hand, Cathy was quiet and supportive, but also a talented writer with distinct opinions and uncontrollable stubbornness. She had transferred to Hampton in junior year and Anne had taken her under her wing, hurling her up the social standings. The four of them were the golden quartet of Hampton High and no one dared mess with them.

Not when they were together at least.

Henry Tudor was a popular, brutish jock with as many brain cells as inches on his dick. In his time at Hampton, he had dated six girls, including all of the four aforementioned girls. His first girlfriend, Catherine de Aragon, had dated him for the entirety of freshman year and half of sophomore year. It was in their second year when Catherine found out that Henry had been cheating on her with Anne Boleyn, some popular queen at school. Catherine tried to confront Anne but was instead humiliated and kicked down the social ladder. Anne was boosted to the most popular girl after getting together with Henry.

But karma always came back, and Anne found out her idiotic boyfriend was cheating on her as well. Jane Seymour, the sweet student council member had been seeing Henry before he broke up with Anne. She refused to back off Henry, leading to Henry breaking up with Anne so the two of them could be together. But Anne wouldn’t let herself be pushed out of the light like Catherine, so she fired back at Henry, stepping on him to secure her spot at the top of the social ladder.

After a pregnancy scare, Jane broke up with Henry, too frightened to stay with someone like him. So Henry moved on and tried online dating, meeting HotAC and taking a liking to her. Too bad that when he tried to hook up with her, he found out that she was one of Anne Boleyn’s friends. Too embarrassed to admit that he was scared of getting on Anne’s bad side again, Henry accused Anna von Cleves of being an ugly horse and turned half the student body against Anna and the others.

Thus began the ongoing feud between Henry Tudor and his jocks with Anne Boleyn and her Golden Quartet.

Henry’s final girlfriend was Cathy Parr, if only briefly. When she first got to Hampton, Henry latched onto her and essentially peer pressured her into dating him. Barely a month into the two of them being together, Anne pushed her way into the relationship and saved Cathy from an unsavory high school experience with Henry.

The bad blood between Anne and Catherine and Jane kept the three from interacting, but Anne was fiercely protective of all the other previous girlfriends of Henry Tudor. Senior year, finally the drama with Henry had cooled down and the school seemed to be at a standstill, waiting for the next bombshell to drop. No one dared to talk about Henry’s fifth girlfriend to Anne’s face for fear of what she would do at the mention of his actions...

Like any other day, Anne was sitting at the quartet’s lunch table while Anna was on top of the table itself. Anna had one hand leaning against the table as well as one foot up while the other dangled off the edge. “It said some pretty nasty stuff, are you sure you want to know?” Anna asked hesitantly, her eyes on Anne’s clenched fists.

“Yes, I want to know what they’re saying about my cousin,” Anne gritted out through her teeth.

Nervously scratching her nose, Anna relented. “It was on her locker, thank God she didn’t notice. There was some cheap photo from a porno with the words ‘Slutty Kitty’ written under it.”

“Those dickwads!” Anne slammed her hands against the table.

Rushing to calm Anne down, Anna assured her, “Hey, Cathy and I cleaned it off before Kit could see it.” It was a miracle she managed to calm Anne down, even if only by a little bit. The popular girl was known for having a temper, and it had been a long time goal of Anna’s to balance her out.

What neither of the girls noticed was Kitty herself approaching the table, her backpack pulled tight around her body. She had overheard the conversation, but put on a perky attitude to make it seem like she was oblivious. Anne didn’t like when Kitty was sad, so she tried to avoid being sad around Anne. No need to worry her cousin about something stupid like high school bullying. “Hi Anna, Hi Annie!”

The two girls turned to face Kit and smiled. “Hey Kit,” Anna said, sliding off the table to sit on the bench across from Anne.

“How’s my favorite cousin?” Anne asked, scooting to the side so there was room for Kitty.

Shrugging, Kitty put her backpack on the floor. “I’m fine. Science was boring, as usual. But in history we started talking about the French Revolution, and I told my partner about the time you built a guillotine -”

Gasping in playful shock, Anne covered her cousin’s mouth. “I thought I told you never to talk about that incident!” Anna leaned forward dramatically, even though she had already heard the story multiple times.

“You tried to chop my head off for treason!”

“It was out of love -”

“How do you chop someone’s head off out of love?”

Before the conversation could escalate, Cathy entered the cafeteria and made her way over to the table, catching the trio’s attention. “Hey Cathyyyy,” Anne said, batting her eyelashes at the other girl.

Ignoring Anne, Cathy sat down on the other side of the table with Anna. “Are you still working on that article for the newspaper?” Anna asked before taking a bite of her rice and chicken (yes, she was the stereotypical black girl. She knew and was proud of it).

Nodding in confirmation, Cathy sighed and banged her head on the table. A moment later she lifted her head again and gave the others a tired smile. “Yeah, and it’s kicking my ass. I was just interviewing Jane Seymour and Catherine de Aragon about -”

“Woah woah woah, you were talking to Jane Seymour and Catherine de Aragon?” Anne gaped at Cathy.

“Well yeah, it’s for -”

“Why would you talk to them?” Anne exploded. “They’re massive bitches and you know our history. They’re the reason behind all the rumors at school and you entertained their bullshit?”

Giving Anne an incredulous glare, Cathy shot back, “Okay first, I was only talking to them because they’re both in charge of the student community service branch of council and I needed their interviews for the paper. And two, even if I did want to talk to them, who are you to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with? You’re popular Anne, but you’re not our dictator.” All the girls were open mouthed at Cathy’s tirade, but the girl in question only sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry Anne, but let me make my own decisions.”

Swallowing thickly, Anne nodded. “Right, I’m sorry Cathy. Just… the three of us don’t have a good history.”

Laughing lightly, Cathy made eye contact with Anne. “Yeah, I know.”

“More like the whole school knows,” Anna mumbled, giving Anne a fake smile when her head shot to the side to glare at her friend. But when Kitty giggled, Anne let Anna off the hook and laughed with her cousin.

“Hey Anna, you’re still good to walk Kit home, right?”

Shooting Kitty a cheeky grin, Anna confirmed with Anne. “Yeah, I’ll make sure no wild kidnappers jump out to catch her while you’re not there.” They all joked about it, but everyone knew how protective Anne was over her cousin. 

“And Cathy, you and I are still -”

“Still going to infiltrate the cafeteria in order to prove there is malpractice going on, yes.”

Rolling her eyes, Anne complained, “Come on, you make it sound so boring. We’re going to break into the school and cause chaos in the cafeteria.”

“That sounds like fun!” Kit agreed, bumping shoulders with Anne.

Resting her chin on her hand, Cathy exhaled loudly. “It is not fun, it’s important. If we can prove the food isn’t up to health standards, then we can finally take some steps towards proper changes around here,” the writer explained.

“Wait, does that mean they’ll get rid of the pizza?” Anna asked.

“NOT THE PIZZA!” Anne cried, far louder than she should have. Kitty shushed her when some of the nearby tables looked over. Protectively, Anne hunched over the last slice of pizza still on her plate. It was far from healthy but Anne was addicted to the grease.

The only ones at the table who didn’t have lunch were Cathy and Kit. Cathy tended to sleep or work during lunch, so she trained her body to run only on two meals and a plethora of snacks throughout the day. And although Kit wouldn’t admit it, her father never gave her any lunch money or provided her with lunch foods. If she asked, he would give her lunch but then refuse to serve her dinner, so Kitty learned to stop asking. “Look Anne, if you want to break into the cafeteria with me, you’re going to have to forfeit your pizza rights.”

In an almost comical moment, Anne actually contemplated whether to choose pizza or breaking and entering, but eventually she gave in. “Alright, I’m sorry pizza, my second love!” And then Anne devoured the slice.

The other three girls rolled their eyes. Whenever Anne made a comment about “my second love” it was almost always followed up with something like - “As much as I love you pizza, you never stood a chance against Cathy Parr, the apple of my eye.”

For as long as the quartet had been friends, Anne had been flirting with Cathy. None of them questioned it anymore, and even Cathy had become accustomed to the constant shows of affection. Both girls were obviously attracted to each other, but Cathy made it very clear she didn’t want to date anybody anytime soon. So instead, Anne kept serenading her with proclamations of love.

Later that day, Anna and Kit were talking home together, comfortably chatting with each other. “She built the guillotine to threaten Mary, but Mary scares Anne way too much - even though she’ll never admit it - for her to actually attempt it.” Anna nodded along to the story, even though this was probably the fourth time Kit was telling it. “So when I told Anne that the guillotine idea was stupid - which it was! - she accused me of treason.”

“How dare she,” Anna spoke in mock horror, playing along with Kitty.

“Right! Ugh,” Kit groaned, “so of course George was on board with it because he’s always on board with Anne’s shi-” 

Anna shushed Kit aggressively before she could curse. “I may not be your cousin but I don’t want my head chopped off if she gets wind I let you curse.”

Kit frowned but then continued her story. “So they got the guillotine which looked so scary, because I was only ten, and carried me to it execution style. George held me down and everything while Anne tied a blindfold around my eyes. By now I’m freaking out because no one’s stopping them - I didn’t actually think they were gonna kill me,” Kit scoffed in the self assured voice of someone who was most definitely lying. “And whoosh! The blade comes down and I don’t scream, and the two of them are laughing at me!” Kit pouted and stomped her foot in frustration. “The blade was fake, it was only styrofoam.”

Lightly punching Kit’s shoulder, Anna commented, “Must’ve been traumatising.”

“It was embarrassing,” Kit groaned.

“Well it’s your fault for hanging out with them.”

Perking up at those words, Kit ran ahead and spun around so she was walking backwards and facing Anna. “On the topic of hanging out with people…”

Quirking up an eyebrow, Anna invited, “Yes?”

“Do you think Anne would be mad if I hung out with other people?”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Anna shrugged. “I don’t know, Anne’s pretty unpredictable. But it’s like Cathy says, she can’t control who you hang out with.”

“So…” Kit waited for confirmation. “Does that mean it’s okay to be friends with other people?”

“Of course Kit, you can be friends with whoever you want,” Anna told the sophomore. The two of them had known each other practically their whole lives, Anna remembering Kit from when she was a toddler. It gave her a lot of teasing material, but usually she left that to Anne. If Kit wanted to branch out and meet new people, Anna would support her without hesitation.

Unbeknownst to Anna, Kit already had an idea of who she wanted to befriend. In her mind, it made perfect sense. Together, the six of them all shared the misfortune of dating Henry, so why shouldn’t they be friends? Or at least acquaintances. She had never told Anne, but Kit found her rivalry with Jane and Catherine stupid. They had so much they could relate to, why let past bad blood govern their relationships?

Anna waved Kit goodbye when they reached her door. “I’ll see you tomorrow Kit,” Anne called, watching to make sure Kitty got inside safely.

“Bye Anna!” she replied, unlocking the door and moving inside. Once the door was closed, Kit let her backpack slide off her back as a smirk grew on her face. She couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

Anne kept turning around in her seat to watch the cafeteria doors, completely ignoring her lunch. Whatever Cathy and Anna were talking about faded into white noise as she peered through waves of students passing through the doors. She couldn’t focus on anything, frantically searching for any sign of her cousin. “You alright Anne?” Anna asked, breaking her conversation with Cathy.

Removing her gaze from the crowds, Anne faced her confused friends. “Have either of you seen Kitty today?”

“I saw her during passing period,” Cathy commented, twirling a pen in her hand.

“Right,” Anne mumbled, shooting another glance at the door. “She’s late for lunch.”

“Maybe a teacher’s holding her up,” Anna offered, 

Still, Anne was unconvinced. “You think something’s wrong?”

“No,” Cathy waved her hand. “Kit can take care of herself, Anne.”

“But what if -”

“But what if nothing,” Cathy cut her off. “She’s not eating lunch with us for one day. It’s not a big deal. You’ll see her after school Anne, and everything will be fine.”

Sighing, Anne shook her head, glancing at the empty seat next to her. “Everything will be fine,” she told herself.

As for Kit, she was on a mission. Jane Seymour and Catherine de Aragon tended to stay away from others, not interacting all that much with the student body. They were both reserved, so Kit didn’t expect to be able to confront them easily. It was pure dumb luck she ended up where she did.

While leaving her classroom for lunch, Kit had been swarmed by a bunch of juniors who knocked her over without apologizing. All her books went sprawling across the floor, stepped on by her inconsiderate peers. Scrambling around, Kit tried to pick up her papers before they could be ripped or further damaged.

A hand came into view, holding her history textbook. Looking up, Kit was stunned into silence at the kind face of Jane Seymour. “You dropped this,” she prompted, holding out the book.

Hesitantly taking it, Kit murmured, “Thank you.”

Her eyes sweeping across the floor, Jane offered an apologetic glance at the mess of papers. “Do you need some help with this?”

“Uh,” Kit blanked. “That would be great!” she accepted a little too enthusiastically. Jane only chuckled and bent down to help grab the papers.

It occurred to Kit for a moment that Jane might not know who she is. But when Jane handed her the last of the papers and said, “There you go Katherine,” that thought went flying out the window. Biting her lip, Kit awkwardly shifted on her feet. She could leave right now and go have lunch with her friends or… Jane seemed to catch on to what Kit was waiting for. “Would you like to eat lunch with me?” she asked.

Without a second of hesitation, Kit nodded her head. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Well okay then,” Jane grinned, leading Kit away from the cafeteria. “Catherine and I - Catherine de Aragon,” she clarified as if Kit didn’t already know, “we sit outside. It’s peaceful and not many people come to bother us.”

“Sounds nice,” Kit replied, her voice still soft. Jane noticed but decided not to comment on it. She wasn’t one to judge people.

When the two of them made it out of the building, Jane was flagged over by Catherine de Aragon who was sitting on a blanket under a tree. It seemed like she had set up for a picnic, even though they were still on school grounds in the middle of a school day. “You brought a guest today?” Catherine raised her eyebrows at Jane, her lips tugging upwards.

“Sure did,” Jane replied, plopping down next to her. “You can sit down wherever you like Katherine.”

Awkwardly shuffling to the opposite side of the blanket, Kit sat down and hugged her backpack to her chest. She didn’t have any lunch, as per usual, so she used her backpack as a barrier between her and the other two girls. Suddenly, she cursed herself for wanting to make new friends. Where had this social anxiety been before she got here?

Catherine and Jane seemed to notice her awkwardness (who wouldn’t?), so they attempted to get rid of it. “So Katherine…” the other Catherine started. “Why’d you want to have lunch with us today?”

Mumbling lightly, Kit felt a small blush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks. “What?” Jane prodded, unable to hear Kit’s answer. 

“I wanted to make new friends,” she told them, burying her head in her arms.

The two seniors shared a glance before turning their attention back to Kit. “Of course you can be our friend,” Jane assured her.

“Really?” Kit peeked her head up.

“Sure, why not,” Catherine answered. “You seem nice enough, and there’s no reason for us not to be friends.”

Frowning, Kit picked at her fingernails. “But Anne.”

Visibly, Jane flinched and Catherine’s face morphed into a snarl. “You’re not her,” Jane spoke calmly, putting a hand on Catherine’s arm. “If you want to be our friend, we’re not going to let that come between us.”

For a moment, Kit almost ran away. This is what she wanted, but now that it was being presented to her, she was terrified. She had never had friends that weren’t also Annie’s. She didn’t know how to start her new friendships other than with, “Okay.”

Catherine and Jane shared a glance. “Okay.”

“Well this is going to be awfully confusing for me,” Jane laughed, “Two C/Katherines!”

“Oh!” Kit perked up, “You can call me Kat. Or Kit. Or Kitty. Any of them work.” Then to herself, “Wow, I have a lot of nicknames.”

Chuckling, Catherine stuck out her hand. “Kat’ll do. Well Kat Howard, I’m your new friend Catherine.”

“And I’m your new friend Jane. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

At the end of the day, Kit almost screamed in surprise when Anne practically rugby tackled her to the ground. “Where were you!” Anne demanded, hugging Kit tightly. “I was so worried.”

“I’m fine Annie,” Kit assured her cousin. 

“Then where were you?” Anna stood beside Anne, watching the scene unfurl. Anne was huffing, her face red, a cross between relief, fear, and anger. The Boleyn girl cared so much about her cousin, but sometimes she became overbearing.

Hugging Anne back, Kit explained, “With my new friends.”

“You have new friends!” Anne brightened, pulled Kit closer. “That’s amazing! Do I know them?”

Letting out an awkward laugh, Kit prepared for the worst. “Jane Seymour and Catherine de Aragon,” she admitted.

Freezing, Anne slowly pulled away from Kit. “What?” she asked, her face as hard as stone.

“Jane Seymour and Catherine de -”

“I heard what you said!” Anne screeched. “You of all people, Kit!” Turning around and stomping a few feet away, Anne screamed into her hands. She spun back around to face Kit and marched up to her. “Those girls aren’t worthwhile friends. They don’t actually care about your wellbeing -”

“How do you know that!” Kit fired back in frustration. “You’re blinded by this stupid fued that’s been going on for years. They were nice to me and we didn’t even have to talk about Henry or any of that.”

Clenching her fists, Anne tried to stay calm. “I don’t trust them Kit. I don’t feel comfortable letting you hang around them.”

“Good thing it’s not your choice then,” Kit stood up for herself. Anna continued watching to the side, frantically texting Cathy for backup. She wasn’t getting any response.

Yelling through her teeth, Anne pulled at her hair. “Kitty, my dearest cousin,” she spoke in a sweet voice. “You know I love you.”

“Don’t you dare and try and guilt me.”

There was a moment where Anne almost continued, but her conscience kicked in. She knew Kit’s history with guilt tripping, and that was a line she would never cross. Before either of them could make another comment, Cathy came bursting out the school doors, sprinting towards them faster than she had ever run in her life. Anna looked up from her phone which she had been repeatedly texting Cathy on. “Cathy? What’s wrong?” Anna called.

Gasping for air as she slid to a stop in front of them, Cathy’s face was ghostly white. “Christina Denmark is missing. The police think she’s been murdered.”

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

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[xaspiringbeamoflightx]

A Brief Timeline of Tina and James’ Tumultuous History for the Uninitiated !!

Tina and James have been an ongoing riot-fest since 2019, but not everyone knows just how complicated their relationship actually is. They might look all cute and cuddly now, but it’s been a long time coming and they’re still working on it. Also, there are some things here that happened with a previous Peter so they’re sort of... half ret-conned but kind of not, we’ll see? Please note that this is a huge post also! Trigger Warnings: Emotional and Physical Abuse, Violence, Injury (self-harm and caused by someone else), Hospitals, Sex Work, Drug Mentions, Sex Mentions. These are all mentioned briefly but not spoken about in great detail.

So, James and Tina began life as mortal enemies. Tina started working at the Neverland Hotel when she was 19, mostly to look after Peter. They both absolutely hated James because he was a “pirate” (see: adult) and was always grumpy and bossing them around (you know, as a boss/ adult does) and they were always causing trouble for him.

Cue 2019. Tina was still firmly in the James bad pirate camp, but James finds Tina quite funny and endearing, if absolutely terrible at doing her job.

Incident 1: Tina attends a house party and while drunk catches James walking by and decides to cause some trouble for him. He follows her into the house, she continues to wind him up, and then he scoops her up and jumps into the pool with her as a bit of revenge for trouble making. (It should be noted here that Tina cannot swim and hates water, so she is absolutely livid and very embarrassed because the whole party saw this incident occur.) For a few days after, Tina avoids James in case she tries to kill him because she is #pissed.

Incident 2: The whole ordeal has been annoying Tina all week, and it culminates in her going in a huff while trying and failing to put clean sheets on the hotel beds. James investigates because she isn’t doing her job, and is a bit concerned for her. They begin to argue because Tina is in a bad mood but James doesn’t let her storm away and then the unexpected happens and Tina shows a vulnerable, meek side that neither of them saw coming. She let her guard down for a second (and it was our first oh shit moment), and then James was internally like “that was odd”.

Tina didn’t like that she let her guard down, so she's back on the must cause trouble and forget that ever happened BS as soon as she gets the chance.  

Cue Incident 3: Halloween! James thinks it would be a great idea to make Tina try on some Halloween costumes for a themed Halloween Hotel thing as revenge for her throwing an absolute tantrum. Somehow... Lord... Somehow they end up flirting?? Tina is doing it to be a little shit because she thinks it’s funny, James is doing it to see what Tina does. About halfway through this, James has an epiphany! (You know, a good old Oh Shit I fancy Tina, fuck my life moment). She’s standing there in a fairy costume, James has her near enough against the wall and just as it looks like it's about to go too far, Peter swoops in and saves Tina from the evil pirate.

Incident 4: A curveball.

It’s mid-November, 2am. James is taking a walk home from his fight club, and he happens upon Tina’s street. She doesn’t sleep well because there’s always something worrying her that she 100% doesn’t let anyone know about because she doesn’t let her guard down for anyone, so she makes herself a wee cup of tea and she’s sitting on her front step drinking it. (This thread was so soft I swear) Tina is very sleepy, so her guard is fully down at this point, and for some reason she invites him in for a cup of tea if he promises not to tell anyone. She’s actually nice and honest for once, and the conversation is lovely, which has James like heart-eyes everywhere.

They talk a bit about how James used to be in a gang, and he mentions that he has a scar from where he was stabbed as a young man. In a sleepy state, Tina realises James is actually an okay person and tells him “You’re not so bad”. He mentions that the hotel is going to be refurbished, and Tina starts giving him sleepy ideas and then eventually accidentally falls asleep on his shoulder on the sofa. He puts her to bed, but quickly finds out Tina is clingy AF as she grips his arm and won’t let go when he puts her down. So, James has no choice but to sleep on her floor because he doesn’t have the heart to make her let go.

A little while after this the hotel had to close for refurbishment - it was being pretty much rebuilt from the ground up, so Peter had to go live with Tina in her tiny one-bedroom apartment, and she didn’t have to go to work for a while, but James kept her paid and employed. 

Incident 5: There were some slowly building conversation between the sleepy 2am conversation and this incident, so it doesn’t come fully out of nowhere.

James gets a phone call from his estranged father, who he hasn’t spoken to since he was a child because of his mother, and asks to meet him. James panics that his life isn’t what he thinks it should be - in other words, he’s completely alone and unloved and doesn’t want his dad to know that - and asks Tina to pretend to be his fake fiancé for a few hours and says he’ll pay her for it.

She’s like “FINE if i’m getting paid but you also have to get us free McDonalds”. Tina stupidly suggests they pretend to get engaged in McDonalds for free chicken nuggets because it would be hilarious. Afterwards, they go to meet his dad, Tina pretends to be the fiancé and they eventually leave thinking all is swell. (Tina has not told Peter about this plan at all but she knows Peter doesn’t want her near James.)

Then shit just... hits the fan...

Incident 6: “Why did it have to be you?”

James, at this point, has realised he really, really, really likes Tina... And that he thinks he actually loves her. Instead of keeping it to himself, they’re walking back to the car, and he just comes out with the bombshell that he loves her and Tina does not take it well.

After a lifetime of always being strung along, Tina thinks he’s playing a cruel joke on her, because Tina wanted someone (Peter) to love her her whole life and she never got it. People have always toyed with her feelings like this in the past. When he insists he’s not joking she gets even more angry and says “Why did it have to be you?” which really stung James who has already been made feel worthless his whole life (to be revealed in a later point). Tina thinks James used her, and it’s a whole mess. They end up fighting and there are bitter tears and they have to sit in the car home like... not feeling great!! In an unexpected turn though, Tina softens and tries to lighten the mood before they get home. James’ self-worth has tanked by this point, which leads to self harm when he finally gets home, but a text from Tina pulls him out of it.

They think that’s the end of it, that Tina will never speak to James again, and James will be sad forever, but there’s more!

Incident 7: Word gets to Peter that Tina and Hook are engaged, and he is absolutely livid at Tina and demands she never speak to him again (but little does he know that somehow Tina felt so bad about what she said that she started texting James again, not apologising but like making jokes and somehow she ended up flirting with him again, and they were kind of low-key talking again. Basically by this point Tina is like Why can I not stop talking to him?) Tina insists to Peter that the whole thing was fake and that she only did it for the nuggets. Tina has promised never to speak to James again, and for a hot minute she “saw sense” and intended on not seeing him again except for work, so no more weird plans or anything because Peter said.

Then Incident 8: We are roughly at the end of January 2020. One night, at 2am Tina gets a phone call from James. He sounds awful, and he tells her he loves her again at which point Tina is confused, thinking he’s drunk. Before he can answer Tina’s question, someone takes over the call. He had been on his way to the hospital because he had been stabbed by a member of his old gang and was, y’know, actively dying.

Tina freaks out for multiple reasons, but mostly because she realises she actually really cannot lose James because he might actually be her friend, and he’s nice to her and he treats her well. (At this point she’s feeling something else but it has fully not clicked). In a pure blur, she rushes to the hospital, not telling Peter, because she thought he was legit going to die, and she was the last person he wanted to talk to before he went. Tina waits there on her own the entire time (for actual hours) while James is in emergency surgery, not knowing what’s going to happen or why she’s so scared.

In the early hours of the morning, he finally is in recovery, and Tina gets to see him, distraught talking to him while he’s out for the count.  He comes around for a little bit, they have a cute, melancholy conversation and she gets to go home when the fear of him dying is gone.

Tina hen visits him almost every day in the hospital “for work related things” because she made a moodboard for one of the hotel room’s themes and needs an excuse to talk to him more. (Somewhere around here is Valentine’s Day and James feels jealous that Tina is making Peter something for dinner.)

James eventually makes a recovery and gets out of the hospital and Tina has continued to see him through the whole journey and not tell a single person that she was there on the night of the emergency. (She is completely bottling it up at this point and it’s not doing her good.) Unfortunately, James’ past catches up to him a second time.

Incident 9: He has been home for a short amount of time, but one afternoon James sends Tina a text saying that he doesn’t want anything to do with her any more. He gets quite harsh with her to really send that message home, and Tina is raging because she’s like you put me through all this emotional turmoil for nOTHING?!?!?! I think the fuck not!

He suddenly stops replying, but instead of taking the hint, Tina decides to go to James’ house for a stern word with him. James starts by trying to get her to leave angrily, but it doesn’t work because she’s stubborn. We quickly find out that the reason he wants her out of his life is to protect her from his mother! She heard about the “engagement” and wasn’t happy about it.

This is where James reveals the really hard life that he has led up to this point -   His mother blamed him for his father leaving them, and then made it seem like James died to hurt his father. James ended up in care until he was 18 (and was in a gang through his teens and 20s), and was later forced to become a male escort when his mother came back for more revenge. She was just... hella abusive, not a fun time, and now, after a few years of James thinking he had gotten away from that life she showed up because she couldn’t let him be happily engaged.

The woman turns up at the house while Tina is there and starts fighting with James. At some point Tina sees nothing but red because dont treat him like that!!! and she ends up going on the attack. They finally get the woman out of the house and from that point on Tina is like nope I’m in this, must protect James!!!!!!!

Tina and James are fully not processing any of this at this point. The emotional turmoil they've both had in a short space of time is so bad that they're both 5 minutes away from a full mental breakdown and they're fully attached to each other at this point because of it.

So, one of Tina's personality traits at this point is that for sOme  reason she just cannot help herself from trying to wind up James because  it gets her attention. It always leads to low-key flirting that she  won't admit to because she's fully in denial that she fancies him at  this point, and James goes with it because he DOES fancy her and thinks  it's cute. They have a few conversations after this where they're being  nice to each other and whatever so there's a slight build up to this next part that Naomi and I didn't see coming until we got there...  

This leads us to Incident 10: The infamous Bubbles thread.

SOOOOOOOOOO Tina, looking for attention, shows up to James' house with the intention of bugging him until he agrees to throw a party at the hotel. Totally innocent, the following was genuinely not planned on Tina’s part. Anyway, Tina shows up and James is in the bath but by this point she's fully on the I'm here for attention and this will be hilarious road so she straight up just walks into his house, goes looking for him, finds him in the bathroom and kicks off her shoes to sit on the edge of the bath for a casual conversation. (There are bubbles so do not worry, she sees nothing!)

James is rightfully thinking “wtf Tina?” but she just keeps insisting on this party like this is a normal way to ask for anything. He gets sick of it and just pulls her into the bath fully clothed. There's too much flirting going on, but they get out and get changed, and we thought that was gonna be the end of it.

But then tension builds and builds, and the penny drops. It goes where you think. They end up sleeping together, which only complicates the matter because Tina isn’t over her feelings for Peter at this point, and she is TERRIFIED that he will find out about it, so she asks James to keep it a secret.

All of this tension and drama is building and finally Tina has an actual total meltdown a few months later because at this point she hasn't told anyone any of this, and it's been building for months. [Note: This was triggered by a plot in the RP we were in at the time, which is ret conned plot-wise here, but the meltdown and following comfort still occurred because it was important. Essentially, there was a mass spiking of drinks at a festival, which made Tina paranoid and all the previous trauma hit her on the come comedown, which sent her into a 3-day-long depressive episode] Following her crisis and meltdown, James came along to see if she was okay because he couldn't get a hold of her for 3 days and she confesses that she fancies him (but hasn't said love yet).

They're fully attached to each other at this point and end up with this weird secret relationship thing going that Tina is trying to keep from Peter because she gets so paranoid that he'll never want to speak to her again. (This is where all of Tina’s Peter issues are completely heightened because she has this terrible, debilitating fear that she will hurt Peter and that he’ll hate her, because Peter’s happiness is supposed to come first.)

Eventually, Tina finds that she has no choice but to tell Peter because it's driving her nuts and she doesn't want to tell him accidentally because she's having another meltdown. It isn’t fair on James either, who genuinely loves her, and is so kind and warm and loving toward her and she is ajkgajghuahg every time she is near him. James issues her an ultimatum, but she has to tell him or he will be finished with her. She realises she can’t let that happen either and she’s stuck in the turmoil of not wanting to lose the two most important people in her life.

(Somewhere in here James ends up caring for his younger twin sisters, but this is a story for Naomi to explain if you need it.)

Incident 11: Tina tells Peter some time in November, leading to another meltdown. She confesses that there has been something going on between her and James, tells part of the emotional turmoil from the hospital and so on, and that she lied and broke her promise. [This happened in between Peter players, some creative liberties were taken]

Peter was rightfully livid about the whole thing. Read this for the meltdown.

As punishment for lying, and having a thing for thee Pirate James Hook, Peter banishes her (which in Lost Boy speak is basically death. She was terrified he would banish her and he did it) for two weeks. Tina has another total meltdown following the banishment  and for the first time ever calls James to ask for help because she's so  heartbroken that she can't function thinking she had lost Peter  forever.  

Peter disappeared some time during this two-week period, returned briefly at Christmas pretending nothing happened, and then disappeared again until recently so Tina is all over the place.  For the first week she literally can't do anything, but also has been  thinking a lot a lot, and then on the second week at some point she  finally tells James she loves him.  He showed up to fix the cabinet door she broke mid-meltdown and she's just like aiuhauighiuahgu shit i love you.

Incident 12: The Blackout, December 5th. James had plans to propose now that he really knew Tina loved him, but the blackout and the hotel being thrown into chaos threw his plan completely out the window. Until it didn’t.

Tina accidentally used the proposal mug on the final day to make James a cup of tea to de-stress while they were at the hotel, inadvertently proposing to James by accident. After a proper explanation, James finally pops the question and Tina says yes. (Because we love chaos, they snuck away from the hotel for a while for... some not safe for the workplace things) and later returned like nothing happened.

So now they’re engaged and that’s us just about up to date. I think?

Now all that’s left to do is tell Peter about the engagement...