#and the dresser on the right (not quite pictured) was my grandmother’s

[jewishbarbies]

resisting the urge to get in bed and fuck up all my organization bc i made it look too comfy

[zerofuckingwaste]

Let's talk about the fast fashion industry. Specifically, the duplicitous, copycat nature of many companies- the likes of Shein and such.

I'm betting you've seen an ad like this before:

A piece of clothing you would love to have and wear, not only great aesthetics, but comfy looking too. It looks official, too- it's between two news articles from reputable papers, and it has the word "Official" on it, and it's a sponsored ad- how could it afford to be all sponsored if it wasn't legit, right?

Let's take a look at the actual listing.

It's got a number of pictures, which lends further to its air of legitimacy. The material is unfortunately listed as polyester- aka plastic- and there is very little detail on the obviously intricate design, the fit, etc. Upon closer inspection, it's all very vague. And, it's under $50- a price tag which should raise red flags, for being suspiciously inexpensive.

If we take two seconds to do a Google lens search, we find the following:

Suddenly, we have a listing that makes sense. Nearly $700, with a description that goes into detail not only on the design (complete with the name of the designer) and style (including information on the fit), but the materials- 100% natural linen and ramie, both renewable, non plastic resources.

Doing a deeper dive into the legitimate retailer, we find the following:

There's a lot more, but it all essentially boils down to "this is a carbon neutral company dedicated to transparency, using renewable resources, and ethical labor practices". Compare that to the shady site, which offers no such assurances, instead boasting about low prices... Which usually can only happen by under paying over worked laborers, not compensating designers, and using non renewable, cheap, and low quality materials.

Yes, the price tag for the real thing is high. REALLY high. But that is the cost of wearing what is essentially a piece of art. Buying fast fashion as a way to get around that price tag is a great way to promote unethical labor practices, low quality non renewable resources, and not compensating the artists who work so hard to design these things. Only occasionally purchasing clothes you actually need/want, so that you cultivate a wardrobe that will last you decades if not a lifetime and beyond, will allow you to save money, and support ethical practices and renewable materials, and as a bonus, you'll craft a closet full of things you actually want to wear, with no duds.

You can only wear one outfit a day. You don't need to buy new clothes all the time. You don't need hundreds of pieces of clothing, you would be surprised how little you need. I am far from a minimalist- I would say I'm a maximalist- yet all of my clothes fit in half a dresser and half a closet, with room to spare, and yet in combination, I have a seemingly endless amount of options for outfits. So, why fill your closet with half assed crappy clothing that will fall apart and go to a landfill in a few months, wasting your money and time, when you can instead thoughtfully choose good pieces of clothing that will last forever, meaning you don't need to buy more clothing to replace it ever again?

$700 is a lot of money. It's the same as 14 of those $50 plastic dresses. But keep in mind, those $50 dresses are of bad quality, with uncomfortable material; you'll throw them out within months, at most a few years. But that $700 dress is made of light, breathable cloth, thoughtfully made to be quite comfortable as well as beautiful- it's these kinds of dresses that will end up being passed to your children when you die, because they're still good as new. I have dresses that my grandmother bought in the 70's in my closet, that have at most needed a button replaced in the last 50 years since.

Think about it this way: that dress that you have to save up for can last a lifetime and beyond, in your closet, or someone else's that you pass it to- the dress that you can buy without a second thought will also last a lifetime and beyond... In a landfill.

Don't waste your money on fast fashion. Spend it wisely, supporting good business practices, and cultivating a wardrobe you'll actually be able to enjoy for years to come.

[suddenlysackler]

Limelight

Adam Sackler x Reader

TW: N/A (maybe a lil smidge of angst but nothing major)

A/N: This has been on the back burner for quite a bit and it’s a tad messy but I wanted to put it out for you all because I miss you and I miss my goblin bf and, ya know, Cannes 2021. Thank you for reading, I’m hopeful that I’ll be back more frequently in the coming weeks!

...

Adam Sackler had ascertained very quickly that he did not care for red carpets in the slightest. 

Given what he had found himself struggling through his late teens and seemingly all of his twenties, the relief of finally, finally, finally achieving some sort of steady stream of work and establishing himself as a serious actor provided relief that he could not be more grateful for. 

He liked being able to turn down the $800 a month from his grandmother and moving out of his apartment for good this time, trading up for some swanky new town house in upper Manhattan. He liked being able to afford to be choosy about what jobs he took and he liked that he was able to split his time between stage and screen. Hell, he’d even tried his hand at directing some dumb indie film that landed him right smack dab in the middle of Sundance.

Which is when he found out he hated red carpets.

He absolutely hated the insincerity of all of it — the rushed interviews, the posing for what seemed like hours on end for photographs that he’d probably never even see and he wasn’t allowed to smile for exactly like he’d want to. He hated answering the same questions over and over again and rubbing elbows with reporters from tabloids asking about off screen romances and making it blatantly clear to him that they weren’t interested in the art he had just helped create.

Along the way, maybe five red carpet events into his career, he met you. To his surprise, he didn’t meet you through a mutual friend or at a party or by yelling at you to stop taking food from open containers in the store he was working in. He met you because he accidentally took your coffee on a Wednesday morning before you could grab it and you promptly chased him down 45th street and cussed him out by using every single insult you could manage.

And that’s when things just clicked for him.

Everything fell into place after you came into his life and suddenly he felt even more fulfilled than he originally figured was even possible. He liked coming home to you after long days on set or at the theater. He liked bringing you to see different projects he was working on during production or bringing you to advanced screenings or dress rehearsals. Whenever he got a script, you were the first one he talked to about whether or not to even try for the role. He never wanted to object you to the horror that was a red carpet.

Not until now, anyway.

It was the first time that you had happened to be available for one and, yeah, he had invited you to all of the ones he had been to since you had been together but he didn’t necessarily want to take you. Of all of the things in his world that he wanted to show you, premiere events were the one thing he wanted to shelter you from. You knew about the drinking, the philandering of his early to mid twenties, the string of psycho ex girlfriends who he swore might show up at your shared doorstep at any given time to rip him a new one. Despite all of that shit, you’d some how managed to still like him, love him even. He didn’t want to chase you away with the bullshit that came with his career.

Maybe this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back?

You’d said yes without hesitation and his stomach dropped. He knew you never turned down an excuse to dress up, to impress him and make him feel proud of the fact that you were his girl, just his. So, on the night of the Tony Awards, he sat in the hotel room his manager had reserved for the two of you to get ready with the help of a team of aestheticians and hair dressers and tailors watching you twirl in what was probably the most expensive ball gown you would ever wear in childlike delight. Music of your choice played softly on someone’s phone and you could hardly stay still enough for the finishing touches that were being pushed into your face. You looked and felt like a million bucks and Adam knew that, but how was he supposed to enjoy it? He was too preoccupied with figuring out what he would do if you freaked out on him, threatened to leave him or some shit, after the circus act you were about to parade through in order to get to your final destination of the night.

“You look handsome.” You called from the chair you had been forced into, eyes opened wide for quick swipes of mascara.

Adam was so far gone, lost in his thoughts and strapped with worry. He didn’t hear you compliment him. He didn’t see you get up and he felt as though the force of you slotting yourself between his slightly parted legs was a ghost of a touch. “Hey, doll.” He mumbled when he finally did notice you.

One of your eyebrows quirked up. “You good, Adam?” 

He sensed some wavering in your voices, maybe some concern. Maybe some doubt? “I’m okay, just hate this shit.”

The other eyebrow followed the first. “What do you mean you hate this shit?” You ask as his publicist swept into the room and began to shoo the two of you out the door and down to stand for pictures and questions. 

He held your hand tightly as you weaved down the hall and into the elevator. “I just don’t like this part.” He shrugged and you squeeze his hand as you listen. “Worried it’ll bug you as much as it bugs me.”

“I mean, I’d walk over hot coals to see you in a tux.” You teased, eyes bright. When he doesn’t shoot back with a response characteristic of his normally playful bravado, some of that brightness leaves your expression. “You know I’m just happy to be with you, right? I’m proud of you.”

Adam hummed in response and squeezed your hand back. “I know.”

You weren’t having his clipped answers. “I don’t care that there are going to be pictures or tons of people watching. You know that shit won’t make me think differently of you.”

He remained quiet after giving you another shrug, still completely scared out of his mind that your words were just that, words. That you’d hit the ground running and never look back as soon as you realized just what supporting him at these things entailed.

The silence lasted for the rest of the elevator ride, through the lobby, and in the limousine and in the little holding room they put you in that is riddled with all of the snacks he would tease you for indulging in had the circumstances been different. He was tense, his muscles tight, tight, tight from his jaw to his calves, knee bouncing and free hand clenching and unclenching right until the moment his name was called. 

The moment wasn’t awful to begin with. It’s mostly pausing and stopping a lot of times for Adam to take pictures while you watch from the sidelines and, every so often, he pulls you in for a few. He doesn’t tell you that, in the moments he doesn’t have his arm around you, that isn’t kissing your cheek chastely and holding your hand, that he feels like he’s drowning. 

It didn’t phase you as you listened to reporters hound him about his female costar and whether or not they were seeing each other. It really didn’t even phase you when one man asked you to “step aside” and referred to you as Adam’s friend, despite his tight grip on your waist and the tender glances his stole every twenty seconds or so. And honestly, you didn’t really care that you might have gotten jostled up a little bit by photographers and other reporters as you stepped aside, more than happy to speed up the process for Adam.

But Adam would not have that, not at all.

“We’re fuckin’ done.” Adam growled, his eyes locking on your face as soon as he noticed you stumble a bit. He left without another word to any of the reporters and looked for his publicist, who was beyond livid at the fact that Adam was blowing off his responsibilities without much of an explanation. Before he went up to him, he grabbed your hand and dragged you along with him, not saying another word.

After a hushed but tense back and forth between the two men, the three of you stepped out of the view of the public and quickly found one of the many green rooms for invited guests to cool down and touch up hair and make up before heading into the venue. 

He paced and paced and paced for a long moment, leaving you to sit on the couch and watch with bated breath, praying that his older destructive tendencies didn’t suddenly find their way back to the surface of his psyche. 

After a long while, you finally spoke. “Can you come here?” You whispered, eyes round and, to be frank, a bit desperate. 

Adam came to you without a moment’s hesitation and knelt in front of you, placing his head in your lap and putting your hands in his hair. “Are you going to leave me tonight?” He mumbled into the tulle of your dress.

A soft smile crossed your lips and you shook your head, then moved to cup his cheeks and lift his face up to look at your own. “Now why would I even consider doing that?” You hummed. 

“After that shit show? Any sane person would leave.”

“Whoever said I was sane? Isn’t that why you like me?” 

He chuckled at that and nodded, biting back a comment about how anyone would have to be insane to want to stay with him for as long as you had. “That was just some totally bullshit and you know it, doll.”

You shrugged and shook your head once more. “Nothing I can’t handle, I’ve had my fair share of total bullshit with old haunts showing up on our doorstep, huh?” You made sure to keep your tone teasing, not wanting him to feel as though he needed to shoulder any of the blame for the situation.

Adam laughed again and relaxed visibly for the first time all night. “Do you want to even stay?” He asked, his own voice a bit more reassured. 

“Of course I want to stay, you’re up for an award, dummy.” You giggle, letting your head fall back as he moved up to pepper your exposed neck with kisses and playful bites. “And there’s the after party — I heard there’s going to be some damn good desserts and music.”

He flashed you a smirk when he pulled back and stood, then offered his hand to you. “What is it you always say when I ask to eat out on the way home from shit?” He proposed.

You stood and took his hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing before walking toward the door. “What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Adam’s smirk only widened as he held the door open for you and smacked your ass before letting you go. “We have dessert at home.”

[aerinsfables]

Part 6 for the Flower Shop AU PLEASEE! I need to know what happens next!!

:)

Flower Shop AU Part 6 below :) In which Warrenessa makes an appearance.

Read part 5 here!

-----

Bracken showed up at the address Seth had given him about ten minutes before the event was scheduled to take place. He’d brought a bouquet of flowers for Kendra’s grandmother, and a green salad he’d made that morning to share with the other attendees. Kendra had told him that he didn’t need to bring anything, but he felt weird about dropping by empty handed.

Almost as soon as he pulled up, he saw Warren leave the front of the house and walk toward him. Bracken exited his car and picked up both the bouquet and the salad bowl as Warren approached and clapped him on the back. “Good to see you again, Bracken,” he said. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I’m looking forward to getting to know everyone,” Bracken replied.

Warren then pointed to the flowers. “For me? Aww, you shouldn’t have.”

Bracken smiled. “Sorry to disappoint, but I brought these for-“

“You’re moving a little fast if you brought them for Kendra,” Warren interrupted. “She’s not in a good place right now.”

He blinked a few times. “I brought these for her grandmother,” he explained. “This is where Seth and Kendra’s grandparents live, right?”

“Ah. Trying to get into Ruth’s good graces, huh? Smart man. Good approach.”

Before Bracken could reply that he’d simply intended to be polite, Warren led him toward the house and began walking while he spoke some more. “Ruth is inside, or at least she was when you pulled up. Most everyone else is in the backyard. Stan and Scott - Seth and Kendra’s grandpa and dad - are grilling. I’ll introduce you to everyone as we meet them.” He opened the front door and motioned for Bracken to head inside.

The interior of the house was comfortable but also a tad ornate. The floors were made of quality hardwood, a staircase led to a second story, plush rugs were located in stylish locations, and a lot of knick knacks rested in various floating shelves which lined the walls in some spots. Family photos were artfully placed in different spots around the area as well; some hung on walls, some occupied desk or dresser tops. To the left was a living room, and to the right was a hallway which led somewhere Bracken couldn’t see. Overall, the house was quite large and held an inviting atmosphere.

Warren led him through the living room and into the adjoining kitchen which Bracken hadn’t been able to see from the entryway of the house. It was large and spacious, with lots of counter space and what was apparently a walk-in pantry. “Ruth,” Warren called, and an older woman came out of said pantry.

“Oh, hello there,” she greeted with a warm smile and a wave of her hand. “Warren, who is this handsome fellow?”

“This is Bracken,” Warren said. “Bracken, this is Ruth. Kendra and Seth’s grandma.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Bracken said. He offered the bouquet to her. “These are for you. Thank you for permitting me into your home.”

“Ooh, he brought a gift! Well, these are certainly beautiful. Thank you. Make yourself at home. Most everyone’s out in the backyard. Show him around, will you, Warren?” She sniffed at the flowers and smiled again. “I’ll put these in some water!”

Warren grinned and patted Bracken on the back again. “Okay, you little suck-up, let’s take you out back to meet the others.”

Ruth clicked her tongue at that remark. “It wouldn’t hurt you to bring me flowers every so often,” she said. “You just come here to raid my kitchen.”

A chuckle left Warren’s body and he walked over to embrace Ruth, who swatted at him the whole time in a manner which suggested to Bracken that she was clearly very fond of him, and they were used to bantering with each other. He smiled. Warren pulled away from Ruth and walked away, then motioned for Bracken to follow. “This way,” he said as he opened another door which led outside.

The backyard was quite large, with a spacious deck connected to the house, steps leading down to a grass lawn where a volleyball net had been set up, a pool off to the far left, and a fire pit to the right. Bracken noticed two men standing near a nice grill on the deck, Seth was at the volleyball net with someone Bracken didn’t know, and Kendra sat near the unlit fire pit with Dale and three other women. Warren led Bracken toward the two men who were cooking hamburgers and chicken at the moment, and introduced him to them. “Stan, Scott, this is Bracken. He works at the flower shop across the street from our cafe. Bracken, this is Kendra’s dad and grandpa.”

He waved at them, probably a little awkwardly, and said, “It’s nice to meet you both. Thank you for allowing me to be here today.”

Scott smiled. “Friends of my children are always welcome.”

Warren then pointed at the volleyball net. “You know Seth. Looks like he’s getting ready to start a game. That’s Tanu over there with him. Come with me, I’ll introduce you to the ladies. Oh, but first - ditch the salad over there.” He gestured toward a picnic table which was laden with other foods; chips, fruit, cookies, hamburger and hotdog buns, potato salad and the like. Bracken did as instructed, then walked with Warren to the fire pit.

“Hello, ladies and Dale,” Warren greeted. Bracken did not miss the mildly exasperated look which crossed Dale’s face. “This is Bracken. He works at the flower shop across the street from the cafe. Cool guy. Brought a salad to a barbeque, but you know. Whatever.”

“Don’t be mean,” Kendra tutted. She then waved at Bracken and pointed at a spot next to her. “You can sit here.”

“I was just teasing,” Warren said. “He helped get rid of Gavin earlier this week. I did actually mean it when I said he’s a cool guy.”

“Ah, so you’re the man who helped my daughter,” one of the women spoke up. She walked over to Bracken and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “I’m Marla, Kendra’s mother. Thank you for interfering the other day.”

“It was no trouble,” Bracken replied. He could feel his face heating up a little. “I did what anyone in my position would’ve done.”

“No, honey. Most people probably would’ve just sat back and watched, or recorded the event with their phones. You and Warren really made a difference.”

He wasn’t sure what to say in response, so he went for his usual phrase when he received compliments from strangers or new acquaintances. “Thank you for your kind words. I was happy to help.”

“Come, join us,” Marla invited. “The spot next to Kendra is open. We can chat while we wait for food to be ready.”

Bracken made his way over to the empty space and sat down. Kendra gave him a somewhat weak smile and he gave one back to her, then mumbled, “You okay?”

She nodded her head. “I’ll introduce you to everyone here. To your left is Mara, then Vanessa, my mom, and Dale tells me that you already know each other.”

He waved at everyone and said, “It’s nice to meet you all.”

Mara looked like she didn’t really care whether he was there or not, Vanessa looked at him as though she was trying to gage how much of a threat he was going to be, Marla’s smile was sweet, and Dale gave him a friendly nod. He could deal with Mara’s indifference, but Vanessa’s glaring was uncomfortable to endure.

Warren stepped in and wrapped his arms around Vanessa. “Don’t mind this one,” he said. “Her bark is worse than her bite.”

“I haven’t said anything,” she retorted.

“You’re doing that suspicious sizing up thing you like to do. It’s intimidating,” Warren replied. “Cut the guy some slack. He’s the one who made the good riddance flowers.”

Marla laughed, while Mara and Vanessa seemed to look at him in a slightly different light; Mara seemed perhaps a little more interested, and Vanessa’s glare felt a little less deadly. Maybe.

“That arrangement was perfect,” Marla complimented. “Hilarious. Kendra sent pictures. Did you really fill it with loose glitter?”

“That part was up to her,” Bracken said. “Did you? I didn’t even ask my mother.”

Kendra nodded but didn’t say anything. Warren spoke up instead. “I hope he realized the glitter problem when he was in the middle of his living room, and I hope he never gets it all the way out of the carpet.”

“Agreed,” Marla said.

“I still say it wouldn’t have been a tragedy for him to die,” Mara added.

“I punched him in his face,” Warren said in a defensive tone.

Mara shrugged. “He could’ve died. I’m just saying.”

“Murder might be pressing a bit too far,” Dale stated.

Warren stroked the stubble on his chin. “She’s right. I probably should’ve accidentally pushed him into traffic.”

Bracken noticed that Kendra seemed to shrink into herself a little as the conversation progressed. He tried to think of a way to change the subject, but failed to come up with anything. He needn’t have worried about it, though, because it seemed that someone else had picked up the same memo.

“Ugh. Go play volleyball with Seth and Tanu,” Vanessa said to Warren.

“What did I do?“ Warren whined.

“Seth!” Vanessa shouted. “Come get your cousin!”

Tanu held the ball in his hands and both he and Seth turned their attention to Vanessa.

“Oh, hey, Bracken!” Seth called and waved in a summoning motion. “Come play with us!”

“I told you to grab your cousin,” Vanessa emphasized.

“Warren! Get over here so we can play two on two!” Tanu said.

Vanessa turned toward Warren with what looked like an extremely insincere smile on her face. “Your presence has been requested at the volleyball net.”

Warren rolled his eyes. “Fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted. Bracken, you coming?”

Bracken hesitated before standing up, as he felt concerned for Kendra and wanted to make sure she was doing alright. She looked at him and gave him a soft smile, then waved and pointed to her brother.

“I hope you like volleyball,” she said. “Watch out for Seth. He likes to cheat.”

“I do not!” Seth protested.

Warren leaned closer to Bracken and whispered in a conspiratorial voice, “He really does.” He then pushed Bracken’s shoulder and led him toward the volleyball net.

---

Part 7 is here!

[lokilickedme]

The Queen of Springtown

I’m going to tell you a story.  It’s a true story.  There’s a bit of conjecture here and there to fill in empty spots, but not a lot.  It’s a story about my grandmother - my paternal grandmother, not my maternal grandmother - I feel the need to specify who exactly it is because mom’s mom has a bit of a story too, but that’s for later.

This one’s about the one I’m going to call Elizabeth.  Elizabeth was her middle name, it was a family name, it belonged to her mother and her grandmother I believe, though I didn’t know any of those people so I couldn’t swear by it.  The family records are long gone if they ever existed.

Elizabeth’s last name was one of those romantically ridiculous names that still clung to old families at the turn of the century.  It had a lot of extraneous letters at the end, a handful of unnecessary and partially silent sounds that looked beautiful in the flowery handwritten script of the time, a noble sounding -eaoux that did little more than tag a fancy sounding o onto the back end.  A lot of fuss for such a little piece of sound.  And when Elizabeth’s grandfather moved his family from France to Ireland and signed the manifests upon arrival in the new old land, he dropped the -eaoux and shortened the family’s name to four tiny letters and a single syllable.  They were Irish now.

Elizabeth’s father carried the new name and the new heritage, and when he was of age he went and married an Irish beauty named - yep, Elizabeth.  They say she was redheaded and blue eyed and fair skinned, though no pictures exist to prove it.  All that exists is my grandmother, who supposedly looked just like her mama.  She didn’t remember Ireland...she was too young when her daddy moved his family to a new land just like his own daddy had done, and she never really told anyone she was Irish.  No one actually knew, once her parents were gone.

But you could tell.  She looked it - flame red hair, china blue eyes, fair skin.  She had the bones of whatever French nobility had been in her lineage from way back, but her colors were the Emerald Isle all the way.  A beauty like you’d see in the movies, petite and ladylike and perfectly put together.

But my god that woman had a wild streak that dated right back to the Celts whose blood made up half of what she was.

(continued under the cut because long story)

So Elizabeth grew up in America, the daughter of an Irish mother and a French father.  She had brothers and sisters, quite a few, though I never knew any of them.  I believe I met two of them when I was too young to remember much about the encounter, but I’ve always found it hilarious that one of her sisters was named Bill.  Bill, like the man’s name.  I never found out why and I’m not entirely sure there was ever actually a reason.  It was just one of those things.

The newly American family settled in Texas.  And when Elizabeth was very young - probably not yet in her 20′s, though nobody knows for sure just how old she actually was because it’s likely she tended to fib a bit about her age to get into places she had no business being - she got herself involved with the Texas mafia.

Now let me tell you a thing or two about the Texas mafia.  It wasn’t an official operation - not like the Italian Mafioso or the Eastern Syndicates or whatever the hell was going on between Florida and Cuba at the time.  But it was every bit as dangerous and vicious and bloody and corrupt as any of those bigger organizations, and it was led for the most part by a man I’m going to call Big Joe.

This was the early 1940′s or thereabouts.  Elizabeth was a party girl - up for anything, always out and about, girl-gang at the swing club, the works.  And Big Joe saw her in the club one night, it may very well have been his club she was dancing at, and the proverbial first-sight thing kicked him hard in the gonads.  This girl was a looker, and she was dancing with everyone in the place, whooping it up, living life like tomorrow it was all going to take a header into the sea.  He had to have her.

And he did.

Big Joe was likely in his late 30′s, maybe early 40′s.  There’s not a lot of information on him other than a handful of facts mentioned once and only once by my grandmother to my aunt - that Big Joe was a handsome man, big and tough and a snazzy dresser, and he always had enough money in his pocket to take Elizabeth anywhere she wanted to go and buy her anything she wanted to buy.  And Elizabeth, party girl extraordinaire, was all up for that.

So Elizabeth and Big Joe become a thing.  Everybody knows she’s his squeeze - and suddenly not a male soul in Dallas or the surrounding metropolitan areas will dare to lay an eye on her, not even a quick glance, because she’s Big Joe’s girl.  And that means something.  Elizabeth doesn’t know quite what it means because she’s likely not even 20 yet, but Big Joe is fun and romantic and he takes her on trips and buys her nice clothes.  He buys her a ring, a blood red garnet, a ring that I inherit many decades later.  He’s going to marry her, he says.  She doesn’t care much one way or the other, she’s having too much fun dancing every night in his club, traveling with him, going shopping, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous of the Southwest.  She’s all but a star, protected and adored.  Big Joe’s men follow her everywhere she goes when she’s not with him.  And Big Joe starts going out of town without her a lot, taking care of business that he never tells her the details of.

She’s cool with that.  He’s a businessman, that’s what he’s always told her.  Things to take care of out of town.  The Boss.  He has a lot of operations to oversee, operations that make all that money he spends on her.

She has no idea what he actually does.

All she knows - or cares to know - is that when he comes back to town he ushers her around town in his big fancy black car, buying her furs and expensive dinners, showing her off to society.  When he isn’t slapping her around...but hey, that’s part of the deal isn’t it?  It’s the 1940′s, and Big Joe is very much a man of the era.  Women grew up knowing they’d have to take the back of a man’s hand from time to time, and Elizabeth knew which side her bread was buttered on.  She kept Big Joe happy, put a smile on his face, did the old grin-and-bear-it on the rest of it.

And then one night Big Joe comes banging on her door.  He’s frantic.  He pushes a set of keys into her hand - keys to the fancy black car that takes her everywhere - and tells her to keep it there, at her house.  Don’t drive it anywhere, just keep it there.  He’ll contact her soon and tell her what to do.

He leaves in another car with one of his men, and that’s the last time Elizabeth ever sees him.

A few weeks later she gets a letter from Big Joe telling her to drive the car into Grapevine Lake, on the far side by the shoals.  Don’t open the trunk, he says.  Put a brick on the gas pedal and put it in drive.  Do it at night and make sure nobody sees you.

That night Elizabeth picks up her best friend and they drive the car to Grapevine to do as Big Joe said, sinking it in the murky green water on the far side of the lake.  The two girls - just girls, barely even women yet - stand on the shore watching it disappear into the deep dark.

A week later Big Joe is shot to death.  A deal gone bad maybe, or a competitor moving into the territory.  Nobody really knows - grandmother never said.  Don’t think I haven’t done my research...I know what I know, and according to a nearly nonexistent little trove of newspaper articles microfiched in a tiny little library in Azle Texas that isn’t even there anymore, odds are very likely that Big Joe went down in a shootout with the Dallas Police Department.

Elizabeth never opened the trunk of that car.  At least she said she didn’t...it’s one of the many things that nobody ever knew or will ever know, because once she shut the door on that part of her life and moved on, it might as well have never happened.  Getting this much out of her was outrageously difficult.  Thanks to my very tenacious and very persevering aunt, what I’ve just told you managed to survive.  It’s very likely my aunt was the only person she ever told, and it’s very likely I in turn am the only person my aunt ever told.  And now my aunt is in her 70′s and in poor health, and this little unknown family story has started poking around at the back of my skull.  I don’t want it to be lost.  I don’t like the idea of soon being the only person alive who knows it.  It’s not a spectacular story, but it’s testament to the fact that extraordinary things happen to ordinary people, probably more often than you’d think - and that those ordinary people sometimes take it all to the grave with them.

Elizabeth - my dad’s mom, my grandmother, the one I look like and act like and laugh like, the one whose cheekbones and eyes and hair and size I was born with, passed away twenty-something years ago.  She lived through some extraordinary things.  After the demise of Big Joe she married an oil roughneck, one of the semi-transient oilfield workers that were prevalent in the Texas Panhandle at the time, and had two children with him - one of whom was my father.  The roughneck was the epitome of the James Dean romantic brooding bad boy type, handsome and manly, but unfortunately also a scoundrel who had a second family in another city that he went to every other month when he traveled to another rig for work.  She left him when she found out.  It was almost unheard of at the time, a young mother taking her two little kids and leaving her husband to be on her own, but she did it.  And when my father was 12 she met and married a very tall, very handsome, very Cary Grant-esque railroad worker who loved life every bit as much as she did.

They were together for the rest of her life.  I’ve never to this day seen two people more in love than Elizabeth and Jesse.  I spent many summers in Texas with them and not a night went by that I couldn’t hear them giggling in the next room after lights-out, talking and laughing quietly until granddad’s wallshaking snores echoed through the house.  It just about killed him when her heart gave out.  But she was old, and she’d lived a life worth living.  There was nothing in her face in those final moments that could ever convince anyone she wasn’t ready and willing to go when the time came.

I’d been married for a couple of years when she died, and my husband and I traveled to Texas for the funeral.  The first night there, as my aunt brought out grandmother’s jewelry box and told me to take whatever I wanted, the story was passed from her to me.  And when it was all told I opened a little drawer in the bottom of the jewelry box and pulled out an old garnet ring that I’d seen before, when I was a small child snooping in grandma’s stuff.  I’d always been fascinated with it...it just looked like it had a story to tell.  That’s it, my aunt said.  That’s the ring he gave her.  That’s all she ended up with.

It was the only thing I took.

The church was so full the next morning you’d have thought it was the final sendoff for some local celebrity.  Everybody loved my grandmother, everybody, but this was sort of astounding.  Some of them I knew from my childhood, from many many summers spent in the Panhandle, but people came from all over to say goodbye and nobody in the family knew who a lot of them were.  They just showed up, some of them cried, some just stood in the back of the church all stoic in black suits.  Some were very old.  And when it was over and I turned around to watch a group of distinctly important-looking old gentlemen quickly and quietly leave the building, I looked over at my aunt and pointed at them.  She arched her eyebrows in that way she always did, that way, the way that said What did I tell you?? - and I wondered if maybe all those years ago some of Big Joe’s men hadn’t pulled that car out of Lake Grapevine and found the trunk empty.

I mean...this is Elizabeth we’re talking about.

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Forty One

Narcissa jumps from the cot, the old springs squeaking loudly as she does so. 

She throws her hands up in surrender, eyeing the infamous wizard and his wand carefully. “Please. Let me explain.” 

Harry pushed his wand further so the tip brushed her nose, “Don’t you move!”

Narcissa stepped back and nodded. Not only was she in no place to do anything considering her wand was under the cot, but she also didn’t want any trouble. 

“Ron, get up. Wake up.” He hissed to the ginger, nudging him, but being mindful of Hermione.

In response Weasley groaned and pulled Hermione closer. 

Harry flicked his green eyes between Narcissa and his best mate, sighing at the git’s laziness. Seeming to have no other options, he smacks Ron on the shoulder and thankfully, he bolts right up. 

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” He asks frantically, drawing his wand from underneath his pillow as his gaze instantly lingered on Hermione to make sure she was okay. 

Seeing that Hermione didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain, he suddenly felt more relaxed, placing his wand back on the mattress. 

“Don’t put it down.” Harry says sharply. 

“What? Why?” Ron asks, confused as he feels Hermione begin to stir next to him. 

“Narcissa Malfoy is in your bedroom that’s why!” The Chosen One exams. 

“Oh.” He says casually, “I know.” Ron clarifies. 

Harry’s brow furrows, “Then why are you not doing anything? I’ll stay here, you go get your Mum!” He says. 

“You know I can hear you?” Narcissa asks from the corner of the room. 

They ignore her. 

“I’m not as daft as you might think. I wouldn’t let her in here if I thought she’d hurt Hermione.” He whispers bitterly, standing from the bed. 

The dark haired boy’s mouth goes agape. “Hurt Hermione? Hurt- do you know who that is! Did she hex you or something?” He asks incredulously. 

“Of course I do Harry.” Ron challenges fiercely. “Narcissa Malfoy isn’t here for-” 

“C-Cissy.” Hermione grumbles sleepily upon hearing the name as her eyes flutter open. 

Harry lowers his wand, looking at Ron with wide eyes. “Cissy?” He questions, finally putting it together. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Ron mumbles. 

Narcissa rushes to Hermione’s side, grabbing her hand and helping her sit up. “I’m here dear.” The woman says softly. 

Her chin is quivering as she stares into the blue eyes, “R-real?” 

Hermione’s doubts break Ron’s heart. The very same thing she asked him when she first woke up in St. Mungo’s. Clearly her grasp on reality is skewed, whether it’s because of the crucitaus curse, the months of torture leaving it’s mark on her, or the nightmares, no matter the case, it’s not fair to her. 

“Yes, yes. I’m not going anywhere.” She promises, stroking her hair gently. 

Harry looked at Ron, not knowing where to begin. There were so many things he wanted to ask, but knew the information he learned from The Daily Prophet this morning was more important. 

Especially now. 

Especially because of her. 

“I’m guessing you haven’t been reading the papers.” Harry says shaikly, pulling the folded black and white pile from his back pocket. 

He unrolls it and hands it to Ron first. 

Missing, the headline reads. 

Prominent witch Narcissa Malfoy, a part of the Noble House of Black has allegedly been missing from the Malfoy estate, sources say. There is speculation as to what happened. Some believe it to be the work of avid Muggleborn supporters starting a war on Purebloods, while some close to the family believe Narcissa herself may have run away. 

Either way, Mrs. Malfoy has not been seen or heard from for a week. A ministry representative says that many have been working tirelessly to find her. Corban Yaxley, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement stated the following “We will stop at nothing to bring her home to her husband and son. Narcissa is a friend of mine and a very respected woman amongst the wizarding world. For someone to jeopardize her status and safety would be foolish. If we discover this was a deliberate act, then people will surely get the war they’ve been talking about for years.”

If you have any information please owl the ministries emergency post. 

In the middle of the page is a portrait of Narcissa Malfoy. One that seems to have been shot the same day as the picture that helped him find Hermione. 

She looks stoic and cold. Nothing like how she is now, soothing the girl he loves. 

“Shite.” Ron whispers. 

This isn’t good for any of them, most of all Hermione. 

Narcissa and Hermione glance at him curiously. 

“Fuck!” He yells kicking his dresser as he drops the paper. 

Cissy picks it up and scans the contents as Hermione joins from over her shoulder. 

After a moment he hears the woman scoff, “Seriously? ‘Narcissa is a friend of mine’, please!” She sounds scandalized, “Yaxley is nothing but a no good, arse k-” 

“As much as I’d love to discuss our hatred toward Voldemort supporters, we have a bit of a bigger problem on our hands, yeah?” Harry interrupts crossly.

Narcissa shuts her mouth tight, but scowls briefly at Potter’s tone. Ron ignores the pair and focuses his attention on Hermione. 

She looks pale and her eyes are wide, gaze perfectly fixed on the front page of the paper. Ron’s large hand on her shoulder breaks her from the trance, making her jump. 

“You alright love?” He whispers tenderly. 

Her brown eyes are glossed over with tears. 

Hermione is brilliant, Ron has always known as much and he didn’t think the past few months changed that, but in a way, that was sort of the problem. 

If he, daft, brainless Ron Weasley easily deduced the subtext of such an article, he’s sure Hermione’s already come up with loads of theories on all the ways this news could go south for them, for her. 

“Be-” She stops speaking, the name is bitter on her lips, “S-sister” Hermione said quietly to Narcissa, tears finally leaking from her eyes. 

Instantly, she engulfs Hermione in her arms, a look of surprise on Harry’s face as she does so. 

“I know dear.” She hushes her cries, “It’ll be alright, I promise.” 

Harry eyes Ron suspiciously, before speaking, “I know this isn’t great news considering we’re harboring a missing person who happens to married to Voldemort’s more loyal supporter-” 

“Harry.” Ron grumbles at his brashness. 

“-But I don’t quite understand what this has got to do with Bellatrix.” 

The name alone makes the brunette’s skin crawl. 

 “While some close to the family believe Narcissa herself may have run away.” Narcissa quotes. 

“I still don’t-” 

“My sister likes you, doesn’t she pet?” Hermione said before her mind could even comprehend the thought of Bellatrix’s words. 

Harry stumbles back at the sudden change of her tone, at the clear spoken venomous words that leave his best friend's lips. Ron suddenly felt sick again, like he did the first time this happened. The only thing stopping him from running to the toilet is the look of utter fear and disgust across Hermione’s own face. 

Who am I? What have I become? I didn’t even want to say that. I can’t control my own mind. It feels like someone- no, Bellatrix, scrambled every thought inside my head and is somehow still bending it to her own will. Maybe I am crazy, maybe I’m becoming a monster… 

She covers her mouth instantly and begins sobbing into her hand, heaving for air. 

Harry is still in stock, but Ron moves to comfort her, when a hand on his arm stops his movement. 

“Go. Let me handle this.” Cissy whispered. 

“I-” Ron stutters, unsure what to say. 

“Take Harry outside, talk somewhere no one will hear. I know you’ve figured out by now that Bellatrix is bound to figure out what happened. Let me help Hermione. I’ve-” She swallows, “I’ve dealt with this before.” Ron can see the heartbreak in her own blue eyes. 

“Please take care of her.” Ron struggles to get out after a moment. 

“Of course.” Narcissa nods, “you have dreamless sleep?” 

“First drawer on the side table.” He whispers, eyeing Hermione’s shaking form, using all his strength to not walk over there.

The blonde nods and begins to go to work. 

“She has to see the healer in an hour, make sure-”

Harry pulls a reluctant Ron out the door, interrupting his attempts at stalling.  

Molly of course questioned them, to which Harry said Hermione was resting so they were getting some fresh air. The matron didn’t ask anything further, but she did eye Ron longer than necessary as he stood silently. 

Once they make it to the garden, it’s the Chosen One who breaks the silence. 

“That’s happened before?” He whispers sadly as guilt seeps into every fiber of him. 

“Once.” Ron replies, voice strained, “in the hospital. Dunno how many times before that only she would.” His gaze is focused on the ground as he speaks. 

“Are you sure we can trust her?” The dark haired boy asks next, his green eyes trained on Ron’s attic window.

 “Hermione does.” Is all he says back. 

And that’s enough. 

For both of them. 

They fall into a tense silence again. Harry doesn’t push it because he can tell the ginger is trying to find the words to say something. 

“Bellatrix. She knows.” Ron eventually whispers. 

“Where Hermione is?” Harry asks fearfully. 

He shakes his head, “No, but it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out she’s come here. Dumbledore did strengthen the wards, though.” 

“Oh.” 

“She figured out Narcissa is the one who got Hermione out of the Manor. If she finds Narcissa, she’ll find Hermione next. Doesn’t help either that the two of them are in the same place at the moment.” 

“Malfoy’s Mum helped Hermione escape?” Harry questioned doubtfully. 

Ron nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, “That’s why Hermione’s been calling for her. Narcissa kept her sane.” He paused, his blue eyes boring into Harry’s, “I reckon if it wasn’t for her Mione wouldn’t even be herself or she’d be de-” He choked on the word. 

His best mate brought him into a fierce hug as he clapped his back. “That didn’t happen though.” Harry pulled away, catching his eyes, “alright?” 

After a sniffle, Ron nodded, “alright.” he breathed shaikly. 

“We’ll work it out, we always do.” Potter said next. 

“Somehow.” Ron whispered. 

“Ron,” Harry began seriously, “I reckon we need to tell The Order about Narcissa, they can move her to Grimmauld Place or something. They have safe houses, aurour’s, it  may good, she could help us.”

“I know.” he breathes in response, “It’s just Hermione, she needs her right now, I don’t wanna-” 

“We’ll tell Hermione first, see what she thinks, go from there.”

Weasley doesn’t answer, but offers a feeble nod. 

They stand in silence for a few minutes. Nothing but the cool breeze ruffling the trees can be heard as they eye the still landscape of snow covered hills.

“There’s talk at Hogwarts you know.” Harry whispers when he can’t take the silence anymore, his thoughts building up. 

“Talk?” Ron questions anxiously. 

“Yeah I reckon that Lavender isn’t exactly over everything that went down. The rumors are even worse than they were before.” 

He groans. Ron had way more important things to worry about then whatever shite Lavender Brown was spewing to the rest of Gryffindor. He couldn’t focus on that, not when the headline in The Daily Prophet this morning could jeopardize both his and Hermione's safety. 

“What’s she saying now?” Ron asked hesitantly. 

Harry scrubbed a hand down his face, “Rubbish really.” He tried nonchalantly, suddenly regretting bringing this up. However, the glare from the ginger probed him to go on. “It’s all bollocks. Lavender’s saying that you cheated on her and got Hermione pregnant so they kicked her out of Hogwarts. Some shite about how you went to set everything straight, that you didn’t want your pureblood values tarnished by muggle blood.”

And look, any other thoughts Ron had about Hermione being pregnant with his baby were admittedly delightful. Sure, it isn’t something most seventeen year old blokes dream about when they're still in school, not to mention the fact he hasn’t even kissed said woman of his dreams, but it helped him keep some hope on the harder nights. 

That and thinking about the making of a hypothetical baby wasn’t one he’d shy away from… 

However, Lavender Brown spreading these vicious rumors about Hermione, nevermind him, but his Hermione, well that wouldn’t do. 

“Muggleborn blood.” Is all he could say to keep from exploding. 

“What?” Harry asked bewildered. 

“You said muggle blood, it would be Muggleborn blood, she is a witch.” He bit out, though Harry knew the anger wasn’t meant for him. 

“Yeah, I know.” Harry whispered quietly, “That’s part of it, that Hermione was actually getting her magic you know from uh, sleeping with you, so Lavender reckons she’s not actually a witch, or at least not a powerful one.” 

“That’s shite!” Ron boomed, causing a few birds in the nearby trees to fly away in a hurry, even the other boy flinched at the volume. 

“Ginny hexed her pretty badly, has detention for the next two weeks. Says it was worth it though.” 

Ron feels a swell of pride in his chest for his little sister. 

“And what do the others say? What do you say?” He asked next, knowing how one rumor could be spun out of control. 

“Ginny, Neville, and I just tell them Hermione’s had a family emergency, Ginny says you’re helping her out. It’s not the best solution considering it does sort of match Lavender’s story but most of Gryffindor knows she was desperate. The other houses don’t care, not really, even Slytherin’s been rather quiet with Malfoy not in the mood for his usual taunts.” 

Then something dawns on Ron. It’s so sudden, it feels like someone’s flushing his veins with ice cold water and he’s just woken up. It shouldn’t be as shocking as it is, but for some reason it just doesn’t sit right with him. 

Malfoy is still at Hogwarts. 

He’s still attending lessons, going to quidditch matches and eating in the great hall. 

His house, the very one he grew up in, is now the place Hermione dreads most in the world. 

He knew she was there. 

And yet, he’s still at Hogwarts. 

“Ron?” Harry interrupts his thoughts, sensing his unease. 

And no matter how badly he wanted to bring these concerns to light, he knew right now wasn;t the moment. They’d handle Narcissa, then Draco. 

One Malfoy at a time. 

“Yeah sorry, just thinking about how I carried on with Lavender so long. Embarrassing really.” It was half true, it wasn’t on the forefront of his mind, but definitely something he felt. 

Harry wanted to agree with the utmost enthusiasm, but decided to spare Ron seeing his mood was already pretty down, so he settled for a mere nod. 

“Well I reckon I should go get Hermione ready for her appointment. Dad is taking the car since she can’t floo or anything right now. Would you mind staying behind just to be sure my Mum doesn’t poke around? Tell her you have homework or something.” The ginger asks, already knowing Harry would agree. He’d do anything for Hermione. 

“No problem mate.” He answers without hesitation. 

“Thanks Harry.” He replies with a small grin, grateful for his friend now more than ever during times like these. 

Obviously both of them would do anything to take back what happened on Christmas night, but they both knew that this whole thing brought them closer together. 

Seeing as there was nothing else to say, Ron turned to head back into the house and did just as he said, prepare Hermione for the trip to Mungo’s. 

“Ron.” Harry says, making him stop. His voice is soft, almost hesitant. 

Weasley turns, eyes faced on Harry’s back who's staring at the rolling hills in the distance. 

“When are you gonna tell her?” He asks, turning so his green eyes pierce, full of so much hope, peer into Rons. 

Where was this even coming from? What did he mean? 

“Well I thought we’d clear up the Narcissa business when we got-” 

“No I mean-” he sighs, “when are you gonna tell Hermione you love her? That you’re in love with her.” He whispers. 

Ron closes his eyes, “It wouldn’t be right.” He admits sadly. 

Harry’s brow scrunches. 

“Hermione’s nearly lost everything and though she’d never admit it, she needs the two of us right now. I’m not gonna take myself out of that equation because if I tell her and she doesn’t feel the same… well… I doubt she’d be comfortable around me.” Ron’s voice is hoarse and thick with tears he’s trying not to let fall. 

“You’re right about one thing, Hermione would never admit it but she does need us.” 

For a brief moment the two smile. Hermione, just as she was before, would never try and put her well being before the two of them. She would insist she’s fine and resist help. Not exactly a healthy way to cope, but it was so Hermione and it shows she’s still her. 

“But while Hermione may just need me, the difference is she wants you Ron.” 

The words go straight to his heart, making it beat at a rapid pace. 

Harry, the very same Harry who wouldn’t know if someone was interested in him had they written it across their forehead was saying this. 

The same Harry Potter who grew up with both him and Hermione. Who knew the two of them better than anyone else in this world. 

His best mate, the sodding Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, who is absolute rubbish at emotions and feelings thinks that Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Their Age, doesn’t only want Ron, but needs him. 

Coming from anyone else, he’d brush it off, take it as pity. 

Coming from someone who knows the both of them as well as he does, it’s different. 

Coming from someone who he knows would rather hex their bollocks off then talk about this, well, it means something. 

“She’s always just wanted you Ron.”

[stevepotterwrites]

A Review of David Lynch Biography/Memoir “Room to Dream”

As one might well expect from a book about the life and work of the eccentric auteur David Lynch, Room to Dream is by turns hilarious, heartbreaking, and a little strange. Biography and memoir in one, each chapter contains two sections separated by three or four pages of black-and-white photos from the time period covered in the chapter. First, we get a well-researched and clearly-presented biographical take featuring input from Lynch’s friends, family members, and collaborators. Former L.A. Times journalist Kristine McKenna does a fine job of keeping the story of Lynch’s improbable rise moving along. She gets out of the way and lets her interviewees do the talking when that’s best and weaves their recollections effectively giving us glimpses of the different stages of Lynch’s life and career from multiple angles. In the second section of each chapter, Lynch takes over and revisits the past in his own words. He goes into greater detail, sometimes, focusing on an aspect of the story that wasn’t covered in as much depth in Ms. McKenna’s section sometimes building on what others said. On a few occasions, he remembers things differently and disagrees with what others have said. For example, Lynch believes that Anthony Hopkins tried to get him fired from directing The Elephant Man. Ms. McKenna’s conclusion, based on her research, is that Hopkins complained bitterly about Lynch but stopped short of demanding he be fired and replaced. Who can really say for sure which account is closer to the truth? Either way, Lynch had the last laugh. The Elephant Man was a critical success and received eight Oscar nominations including Best Director. His career was launched. As much as one may be put off by Hopkins’ snotty attitude and presumption, regardless of whether or not he actually pushed to remove and replace Lynch or merely complained about him, his concern about being directed by a complete unknown isn’t really too surprising. Lynch was an inexperienced young director whose only full-length film was a bizarre, unclassifiable, no-budget, black-and-white surrealistic nightmare starring a bunch of actors no one had ever heard of before and which had only been shown as the midnight movie at a handful of art house theaters in the States. Yes, it’s recognized as a classic now and, yes, Lynch has become a legend, but at the time he was a completely unknown young American directing a cast of highly-acclaimed British actors including stage legend John Gielgud. Incredible. Thankfully, producer Mel Brooks had great faith in Lynch and admirably threw his full support behind him despite the reservations Hopkins and, quite likely, though less vocally, others had.Lynch’s rise was an astonishingly steep career trajectory by any measure. He made the animated short loop Six Men Getting Sick in 1966 and the live-action short The Grandmother in 1968 while a student at Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia. Those opened the door to the American Film Institute in California where over a five-year period, on a tiny budget, with a small dedicated crew, he made Eraserhead. That film, in turn, convinced Mel Brooks that Lynch was the guy he was looking for to direct The Elephant Man  starring his wife, Anne Bancroft, among many other fine performers. Then came hard lessons learned from the $40 million (estimate according to IMDb) big-budget disaster of Dune. Despite that not going so well, producer Dino De Laurentiis gave Lynch the go-ahead to direct Blue Velvet with full creative control. Lynch found his groove and went on to create the body of work he is best known for. What we see examples of repeatedly throughout Room to Dream that at least in part explains his success is how Lynch’s charisma, contagious enthusiasm for his projects, and dedication to his craft and vision engenders a sense of loyalty from his actors, crew and other collaborators. The section of the book which recounts Catherine Coulson’s final performance in her iconic role of Margaret Lanterman, AKA the Log Lady, may well have you weeping when you read it. Her scenes will take on a deeper poignancy when you watch Twin Peaks: The Return again. Ms. Coulson was a key member of the Eraserhead team who worked tirelessly to help get that film made even donating her waitressing tips to the cause. Many of those sharing stories in the book are world-famous — Isabella Rossellini, Kyle Maclachlan, Laura Dern, Sting, John Hurt, Sissy Spacek — but some of the most illuminating insights come from lesser-known behind-the-scenes talents. One of my favorites is handyman and jack-of-all-trades, Alfredo Ponce. Mr. Ponce was doing some landscaping work in Lynch’s neighbor’s yard in the mid-nineties. Lynch struck up a conversation with him and the two hit it off. Lynch hired him to do some cleaning. He has been working for Lynch ever since taking care of everything from landscaping to plumbing to electrical work to mechanical repairs to building a set for Inland Empire.  “People see me here cleaning or raking leaves and they think nothing — they don’t know how much I know,” Mr. Ponce says. “I can smell things from far away, and I can see immediately when someone comes up here who doesn’t have David’s best interest at heart. The negative energy — I can see that, and I’ve seen a lot of people come and go. David’s an easygoing, nice person and he can be taken advantage of, so I try to protect him. Anybody who works here has to be somebody I trust.” Ponce’s picture jibes with the overall depiction of Lynch in the book. While he’s had his fallings out, breakups, business deals gone wrong and so forth the general consensus seems to be that he’s a pretty nice guy. On a scale of Dale Cooper doppelgangers, he’d likely hew more toward the Dougie Jones side of the spectrum than the Evil Coop zone. No doubt the man can be cantankerous, cranky, foul-mouthed and ill-tempered when confronted with realities that get in his way, as demonstrated in this clip below from the making of Twin Peaks: The Return, but some Hollywood veterans who’ve worked with him describe the experience as among the nicest, most pleasant and least dysfunctional gigs they’ve had in their long careers. The man has manners. He’s considerate. He knows everybody on set by name and acknowledges their contributions far beyond the directorial norm. This may in part be due to his long commitment to the daily practice of Transcendental Meditation. We also see Lynch’s maniacal attention to detail. He’ll fuss over something on set that likely won’t even be visible on screen in the end. To get the feel of the scene just right, it is important for him that all of the details be just so, just right. And, of course, if one gets to the point of fussing over minor details that won’t ever show, it’s only because there’s nothing left to fuss with. Everything is just right and ready to go. He’s like the short story writer who knows he is done with a story when he finds himself putting commas back in that he’d previously cut. Yet coupled with that powerful desire to get the set to look just the way he envisioned it is the seemingly contradictory willingness to embrace chance and serendipity, to spontaneously incorporate a new element that presents itself into the work. Lynch’s best friend since high school, the production designer and artistic director Jack Fisk, who has worked with many of the finest directors in Hollywood including the Coen Brothers and Terrence Malick and is every bit as well-respected as Lynch in the movie industry (though far less famous to the general public) gives an example of this from when they were teenagers obsessed with painting. A large moth flew onto one of Lynch’s wet paintings, got trapped and flailed away trying to break loose. While another painter might have been upset and set to work to remove the moth and smooth over the disrupted section of paint, Lynch was thrilled and at once accepted the dying moth’s struggle and eventual death as a part of the painting. Many years later, in a now famous incident, set designer Frank Silva accidentally got himself trapped on the set of Laura Palmer’s bedroom when he blocked the exit door with a dresser. He hid behind the bed during the filming of a scene. Lynch was intrigued by the thought of an unseen character hiding in the room. In a later scene in the Palmers’ living room, Silva’s face was accidentally shown reflected in a mirror. Clearly, he was supposed to be in the show. Lynch incorporated Silva into the series as a central figure, the evil, interdimensional being BOB who possesses Leland Palmer and makes him do bad things. It is hard to imagine Twin Peaks without BOB but such a version might have been if Mr. Lynch was less open to influence, if he didn’t allow himself the room to dream. Room to Dream. What a perfect title. Mr. Lynch managed to find himself the room to dream and to bring those dreams alive on film, on record, and on canvas so the rest of us can dream along with him. He got past the most common destroyer of artistic ambition — concerned, well-meaning parents who don’t understand what you’re doing — and found collaborators who did get it. That this is a book Lynch fans will enjoy goes without saying, but it’s also a good choice more generally for anyone interested in how movies get made or those who simply enjoy a good memoir.

-- Steve Potter

https://bookfreak.us/2018/10/21/david-lynchs-room-to-dream/

[littlemisskookie]

Push Your Buttons

Push Your Buttons Ship: Taehyung | Coraline!Reader Description: Coraline!AU, Childhood Friends/Enemies to Lovers!AU. You return to your childhood home in an attempt to uncover your past, despite the fact it seems as though everyone’s determined to keep it hidden. Warnings: Fat Cock kink?, Taehyung calls you a bitch a lot, Oral, Denied Orgasms, Blowjob, Intercourse, Dirty Talk, Violence, So MUCH ANGST, Major Character Death Word Count: 23k A/N: I literally spent months on this so please enjoy! I’m proud of it!

For some reason you expected it to be more colorful.

Typically, when someone thinks back to their childhood home and summer memories, they think of back the lush green of the trees and the wide expanse of grass and yard. Perhaps blue skies and scraped knees, with a golden sun overhead to burn skin and give tans. Maybe the flush of cool water against one's skin and friends whose little arms would wrap around you in a tight hug.

That's what you supposed most would think of, anyway. You really couldn't say because truth be told, you had no recollection.

As in, no recollection whatsoever.

Apparently, there was an incident here at this very place when you were only eleven years old. It was your childhood home, but you were spared most of the details. After the incident, your grandparents, with whom you had lived, decided a change of scenery would benefit you, and you were unable to recall the memories you had before seventh grade.

You remembered small things, but none of it really seemed real. It was more like a dream, some of it bizarre and outlandish. A small door and a winding tunnel, as well as bright colors and warm food. It wasn't always pleasant, though. Some nights, until about a year after the incident, you'd wake up screaming about your eyes.

Neither you nor your grandparents could decipher what it really meant.

There was one thing you were positive was real though. Two boys. One you weren't able to really make out, but the other had a face as clear as day. A bright smile and long eyes, with big cheeks that looked ready to pinch.

You wondered if you'd see that boy again.

Your grandparents had decided to move back to the home after all of these years. You were being transferred to another school, and you'd be away for a while. The two felt nostalgic about the place since it was originally where they had raised your mother before she died, and wished to return. You insisted upon helping them settle in and tend to them, admittedly curious about your childhood home. Perhaps you could settle in for the summer and find a nearby job soon. You had just finished college, having graduated a year early due to summer classes. Still, they were worried- about bad memories returning after all these years or other things, you weren't quite sure. Nevertheless, you had pestered them into letting you stay with them, seeing as you needed to help them due to their age and health.

The town was a lot more grey than you would've guessed. A bleak sky with a dreary yet humid atmosphere, lightly sprinkling enough for your skin to feel dewy, but not enough for the need to go inside. The ground was muddy as you stepped out of the car, taking a long look at the house you had grown up in.

It was a large suburban home that was divided into four apartments, all of the neighbors staying there even after your departure, apparently. The landowner immediately let your family move in, perhaps for nostalgia's sake or for the need of money.

Sweeping a hand through your blue-dyed hair and tugging your yellow raincoat closer, you marched up to the house, noticing how run down and old it was. Slipping your matching yellow boots off, you shake your head, trying to get any droplets out of your hair, mimicking a dog. You walked along the floorboards, examining the interior. The paint was faded and chipped, and each step you took creaked.

"Y/N! Don't run off too far!" your grandmother called, paranoid as always. Your grandfather was helping her out of the car to get into her wheelchair, which she had been stuck in for your entire life. "Remember that there are rats in the attic! There's supposed to be traps laid out, but I don't want you to get hurt."

You ignored her, giddy as you clutched on tightly to the key in hand, jamming it into the front door and entering the premises.

Nothing.

You felt deflated.

It was standard, some old furniture still there, and dusty as hell. You didn't know what you expected. Why did you get your hopes up?

The whole reason you brought yourself here was to try to recover your memories.

You had all the time in the world for that, though. Surely something would come up to bring back a rush of memories.

You ventured through, noting leaks and mouse traps that had yet to go off. Walking up the stairs, you continued to look for something of interest, only to stumble across your old room. The landowner was right- it really hadn't been touched since your family moved away.

The room was set up for a young girl, with faded pink walls and a bedspread of butterflies. You stared around, racking your brain for any sense of familiarity, only to find none. It felt as though you were in a stranger's room, but you knew it was yours. Your grandma had some pictures of you in your room back when you had stolen one of her polaroids, and you were sure if you'd look at them in comparison, the room would be a match. 

You squint your eyes, however, seeing something that seemed out of place. A tiny door, no taller than your knee. You kneeled down, your finger tracing along the outline of it, ripped wallpaper being hastily taped up with duct tape that was already beginning to fall off.

This... This seemed familiar.

Your heart palpitates, realizing it looked awfully like the door in one of your many dreams.

It couldn't be real.

Ripping off the tape, you try to pry the door open, only to find it locked. You grit your teeth, looking around the room for a key. You looked beneath the bed, behind the dressers, everyone until you finally found it beneath some cobwebs. Blowing the dust off, you jam it into the lock, twisting the key to pry the door open only to find... brick.

Disappointed, you return to the car, your grandfather calling for you. A tall, strange figure stood before both of them, a mop of dark hair on top. You furrow your brows, looking at the man in question.

His skin was golden, making him glow and illuminate the grey clouds in the background. He was stunningly handsome, and you felt your breath hitch as you stared at him, finding your mouth dry. 

"Y/N, this is your childhood best friend, Kim Taehyung. He's the son of the landowner, and has graciously offered to help us move in!" Your grandmother beamed at the man, reaching up to pinch his cheek. "My, how you've grown! I remember back when you were no bigger than my knee, you were such a cute kid. Now you're a handsome young man! You know, Y/N's single right now, and with the history between the two of you-"

"That's enough, Grandmother, I'm sure he's got another girl," you hastily interrupt, feeling your cheeks flush. You hold your hand out, smiling at Taehyung, internally praying that your hands weren't sweaty. "I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you."

He glared down at your hand before giving you a confused look. "Why are you introducing yourself? We've known each other since diapers."

You feel your face go beet red, and you fume with anger immediately. That was just plain rude. "There's no need to be obnoxious."

"Y/N!" your grandfather snapped.

"I'm sorry I don't remember you, but it's probably for the best, seeing how rude you're being," you continued, crossing your arms as you looked up at the man. You were best friends with this brat? You would've figured it'd be the boy with the chubby cheeks and long eyes, not this absolute jerk. 

Taehyung raised a brow in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "Is that so?"

"It is," you say, wanting to spit out the words. "I can't imagine myself being friends with such a pompous ass."

"Y/N, that's enough. We raised you better than this. Why don't you get started on moving the stuff inside? We'll have to apologize to Taehyung on your behalf."

You rolled your eyes, huffing as you began moving the boxes inside. It's about only five minutes later that Taehyung joins you, boxes in his arms as well. He's about to stumble when you catch some of them, quick on your feet as you prevent them from toppling to the ground.

"Careful! That could be our good china!"

Taehyung set down the box carefully, both of you trying to calm down after the brief scare.

You're both silent for a moment, but you break the silence ultimately. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have burst out like that. I was being rude."

He grunted in response, and you do your best not to get pissed off at him once more. There was no need for you to act so immature and childish, after all. Finally, he speaks up. "So you really don't remember anything, huh?"

You pause at that. "So they told you, huh?"

"Yeah. If I had known I wouldn't have been like that," Taehyung admits.

You let out a breath. "It's alright. There was no way for you to know. And no, I don't remember anything. It's one of the reasons I came back. Apparently, there was some incident that just completely wiped away my memories and... Well, I've been gone ever since."

"So you don't remember me."

"No. You probably know my childhood better than I do, if we were really friends though. It's hard to imagine, though. You're no more than a stranger to me right now, I mean look at us." You gesture at the contrast between his dark coat and your own bright yellow one. 

"Show your left ankle and I'll tell you one story," he offers.

Your eyes light up at that, and you don't hesitate, kicking off a rainboot and rolling up your already cuffed jeans, showing the small, crummy butterfly.

Taehyung traces it softly, making sure not to make you uncomfortable as he does so. His mouth quirks up a bit, and you can't help the unexpectedly warm feeling in your chest. "When we were eight we all snuck into Mrs. Miller and Wilson's apartment. They were our neighbors back in the day. They had this old tattoo pen and such. Jimin advised against it, but you were obsessed with butterflies at the time and wanted me to draw one on you. By the time the adults found out, it had been done. You were the only eight-year-old at our school who had a tattoo, needless to say."

You laugh at the story. "Oh God, I could totally picture myself doing that. Makes sense why it's so poorly drawn, though."

"Hey, I was eight and had never even held a tattoo pen before, give me a break," he scoffed in response, though laughing as well.

"Wait, but who's Jimin?" you ask curiously. 

Taehyung's laughter stops immediately, and his face returns to the previously dark look. He gets up to walk away, and you're quick to hobble on one foot, grabbing onto his sleeve. "Wait, why're you leaving? Did I offend you?"

His face is steely as he looks at you, removing your hand from his sleeve. "You're not my Y/N, and you never will be. My Y/N wouldn't have left no matter what happened."

Your eyes widen at that. "Excuse me? I can't help the fact I have amnesia!"

"I don't give a damn about your amnesia. You said it yourself that we're strangers, and we're going to stay that way. The less you know the better," Taehyung spits.

You narrow your brows, glaring at him. "What the fuck, Taehyung? What are you even talking about."

"I repeat: the less you know the better."

His lips remained sealed, and you squint your eyes at him. He was dark and brooding on the outside, and desperately trying to remain the same on the inside. Or at least project that image. You wondered if this truly was the boy you were apparently best friends with during your younger days. Could little kids be brooding anyway? Somehow you couldn't imagine him as a bubbly little boy. Something had to have changed. You wondered if you had anything to do with it.

"What, do you know what happened?" The wheels in your brain begin to spin as you frantically try to prevent him from leaving. "Do you know the incident? What happened to me? Why I forgot everything?"

"I don't know anything," he says hastily.

"Liar!" Your eyes immediately catch the small quirk of his lip, a twitch of his sneer. "I can tell you're lying. I don't know how, but I do. That small quirk of your lip..."

He stops in his tracks, reaching up to his mouth, his face turning red with embarrassment. You know your assumption was correct, and you can't help but grin victoriously. "It doesn't mean anything," he excuses.

Your face softens, and you reach for his hand, glad that he doesn't flinch at your touch. "Taehyung- I need to know. It's why I came here. I feel like there's this big part of me that's been missing all this time. You might not know everything, but clearly you know something. It's clear you and I were best friends- why can't we be that again?"

He's frozen in your touch as you stare him in the eyes, searching for something. With your hand in his, though, you do feel some sense of familiarity. You haven't felt this in a long time.

He retracts from your touch as though burned, snapping out of his daze as he turns away from you. "Grow up, Y/N. I would've figured you would after all this time- but you're still childish as always."

"I thought you said I wasn't your Y/N," you say, desperately trying to reach for something to grasp onto.

"You're not. You never will be," he hisses, avoiding your stare as you attempt once again to make him look at you. It's as though it physically pains him to look at you. "We'll keep it that way."

"We're going to be neighbors now, Taehyung. You can't ignore me forever," you say stubbornly. "And if there's one thing I'm sure I've kept with me even from childhood, it's my ability to be a pain in the ass. We've got plenty of time to be together, and I'm not leaving without finding out what happened to me. You can either choose to help me or be annoyed for years on end until I figure it out on my own."

"Go to hell, Y/N. I told you that the less you know the better. After all, curiosity killed the cat."

You grin, finally succeeding in locking eyes with him again. "But satisfaction brought it back."

-

The house was littered with cardboard boxes by the time you were done moving everything. Between pestering your grandfather about getting some plants or paint to brighten the place up and overall wasting time, you were finally and truly blessed with Taehyung's presence once more. You were in the middle of unpacking a few of the items when Taehyung came into your room, his eyes roaming about the place before landing on you.

"Have you changed your mind?" you say hopefully, eyes lightening up with hope.

"No," he grunts, "your grandma just wants to know if you want to come down for a break. She made lemonade."

You sigh, slightly disappointed. "Yeah, sure."

"What's that?" His eyes narrow, brows furrowing.

You turn in his direction, seeing the tiny door. "Oh, this? I have no clue honestly. It was covered with a bunch of duct tape when I saw it, but it's kinda cool. No clue why anyone would need such a tiny door... especially since it doesn't lead anywhere."

You open it up, blowing at some of the dust on the door and brick. Taehyung glares at it, stepping forward before slamming the door shut.

"Leave it alone- it was taped up for a reason. I suggest you tape it back up," he says.

"Why?"

"I... I just have a bad feeling about it, ok?" He gets fidgety again, slightly irritated. "Now that I think about it, it was probably my mom who taped it up after you left. I hated that door since we were little."

"If you're not going to tell me then I won't tape it back up. It's in my room, there's nothing you can do about it. Besides, it leads to nothing. What's the big deal?"

"Y/N, you'll just get in trouble, and I'm the one who's going to have to drag you out and save your ass. I know you," he says.

Your mouth goes small. "You don't know me, though. I don't even know me."

There's silence between the two of you for a bit.

"Look, I'm sorry," he says. "I'm not being fair to you, and I've been nothing but rude. I guess I haven't moved on from the past, and it's not a good excuse. I held a grudge against you or what happened- honestly I don't know half of it. It wasn't your fault anyway, but with you leaving and getting amnesia I guess I never got over the feeling of abandonment. It's been ten years though, and I need to move on. Seeing you here has reopened some old wounds that were never healed... but it's not your fault."

"Taehyung..." You're momentarily stunned. "I don't know what to say."

"Well, don't read too much into it," he hastily says. "Tell you what, I'm going to be at home but I'm sure my folks won't mind if you drop by this afternoon. You can head back to my place and I'll tell you a few childhood stories regarding the two of us. Sound good? It's the least I can do."

"I'd love that!" You brighten up at the idea.

He holds up one finger, however, making sure you don't get too excited. "On one condition: you tape that little door back up. As I said, I've got a bad feeling about it."

You furrow your brow again. "It really freaks you out that much, huh?"

He presses his lips together in a tight line. "Do we have a deal?"

You grin. "Deal!"

He spits in his hand and holds it out, his cheeks flushing when he realizes. "Oh, uh, it's something we used to do. I should've realized-"

He's about to wipe his palm against his coat when you spit in your hand, shaking it with his without hesitation. "Don't worry about it. Just like old times, ok? We'll act like I never even left. This feels right." You look down at your hands and slightly grimace, pulling back and wiping it away. "Slightly gross, admittedly, but right nevertheless."

He's stunned, and you wave your hand before his face in an attempt to bring him back to reality. "Tae? You alright?"

"What? Sorry, dozed off there for a moment." For the first time, you see him smile, a warm glow filling your heart at the sight. "I just... I never really thought I'd get the chance to do that again. With you I guess."

You can't help but melt at the sentiment. "I'm not going anywhere this time, I promise."

-

Taehyung's mother looked like the spitting image of him, surprisingly enough. Save for the grey hairs and wrinkles around her eyes, she looked like him if she were a girl.

"Oh, Y/N! My, aren't you gorgeous? Look at that blue hair! You grew into the beautiful young woman I always knew you'd become. It's been so long- Taehyung just told me you were back," she said, smiling warmly.

"Hi, Mrs. Kim," you say. "Is Taehyung home?"

"Oh, he's outside gardening for me. He'll be right back. Why don't you head upstairs to his room and wait for him? He's supposed to be back any minute."

"Oh, thank you, ma'am!" 

You begin to walk away when she takes your hand, redirecting your attention to her. She looks nervous, biting her lip. "Y/N... it's really good to see you again. I know Taehyung's happy about it too, though he has trouble expressing that side of him. He changed a lot once you left but... I don't want to get my hopes up, but maybe since you're back he can change back. I guess a mother can't help but want her little boy back, huh?"

Her smile is bittersweet, strained but sorrowful. You can't help but feel a sense of pressure put upon your shoulders, and you can only attempt to mimic her smile. "I'll try my best, Mrs. Kim. I'm glad to be back, too." 

You didn't have the heart to tell her that you had absolutely no clue where his room was, but after wandering around aimlessly upstairs you eventually found what you could only presume would be his room.

It was simple. Frayed and faded posters of superheroes on his walls, and a small basketball hoop on the back of his door. It was surprisingly neat for a guy's room, but perhaps you just had a stereotypical expectation. Wiping your finger against the surface of the dresser, you note that there's no dust.

Your eyes flicker upwards towards a picture of three kids, smiling brightly. You recognize Taehyung immediately, his rectangular smile beaming brightly at you. To his left you see yourself, your face chubby and youthful, clinging tightly to his side as proof of your friendship. To your other side, there's another boy, his plump lips spread into a bright grin that stretched across his face.

Your heart stops.

A hand comes behind you, slapping the picture face down. You turn to Taehyung, his expression furious.

"Just what do you think you're doing, snooping around my room?"

"Sorry your mom just... she let me in," you say, stammering as you attempt to regain composure.

"That doesn't give you an excuse to stick your nose where it doesn't belong." His brows furrow, a crease between them. He sighs, running a hand across his face in frustration. "It was a mistake to invite you here."

"Who's this boy?" You don't touch the photo, but he knows what you're talking about, nevertheless.

"That's me," he says bluntly.

"No, the other one. With the long eyes and bigger lips."

He's quiet for a moment, looking away. "That's Jimin. He was friends with us when we were little."

"Where is he now? I recognize him, I don't know why. If you could tell me where he is maybe I can talk to him. He might be able to tell-"

"There's no point."

You pause, confused. "Why not? Did he move like I did or something?"

"No, he's... He's dead."

Your breath hitches and you feel your chest get tight. "No, that can't be right. That makes no sense."

"Well, he is," Taehyung says, expression angry. "He went missing right before you left. They announced him as dead not too long ago. About three years ago. Apparently, they do that if the person is missing for more than seven years."

Your face crumples along with his, the temperature of the room falling as you process the information. "I'm... I'm so sorry for your loss."

"It's your loss too, you know. He was best friends with both of us."

"Maybe so, but I don't remember any of it. I have no memories, he might as well be a stranger," you explain. "For you though... For you, he was much more than just a picture in a frame. I'm sorry."

You swear you see his eyes well up slightly, but he flops down on his bed, turning away from you. You wondered if you had a poor choice of words, reminding him once again that you remembered nothing, even the boy that meant so much to him. To both of you, apparently. "You wanted to hear stories about us when we were kids, right? To see if you remembered anything?"

"Yes." You sit next to him on the bed, bringing your knees up to your chest as you listen intently. "If you're ok with that, of course."

He hums, closing his eyes. "You, me, and Jimin were all best friends since diapers. We had every class together and were glued to the hip, so to speak. Everyone in this small town would say that when they saw even one of us, they could expect one of the other two. Some speculated both he and I would fight for your hand in marriage once we had grown- a running joke among the grown-ups.

"Jimin was the more gentle of us three. He was always the one to get between us and calm us down whenever you and I got into one of our usual spats. Even back then we couldn't help but bicker, so it seemed. I was the one who taught you how to ride a bike, only for you to accidentally run over me and into the bushes. He was the one to bandage the two of us up as we both argued over who was to blame."

His eyes flicker up to lock with yours, a small smirk on his lips. "It was totally yours, by the way."

You laugh heartily at that. "Agree to disagree, then."

You both chuckle for a moment. 

"You know, we were each other's first kiss," he mentions. "We had decided if anyone was going to kiss you, it would be us, your two best friends. I mean, what did we know, we were like seven at the time. I'm pretty sure I missed your mouth anyway."

"Something tells me that memory would be a bit cringy to look back on."

"Yeah, probably," he smiles. Taehyung's gaze is far away for a moment. "I'm sure Jimin would disagree if he were here, though."

You're quiet for a moment. "Was his disappearance the... incident?"

"I can't really say for sure, honestly. As much as I know you want answers from me, there's only so much I know. I don't have all of the pieces, but I know the events are related. I have bits and pieces, and the only others who know anything are amnesiacs or ghosts."

"I appreciate you telling me this, though," you say honestly. "I know it must be hard for you."

He lays back on his bed, his back bouncing against the springs. "As much as I've gotten angry over you losing your memories, I think a lot of it is jealousy. I wish I could forget so easily."

"It's not the most pleasant thing, honestly. I feel like I'm missing this huge chunk of my life like I'm not even fully me, you know? I only know what I was like once I was twelve and after, basically once I hit puberty." You sigh, falling beside him. "It's hard to explain."

"I think I get it. It's like the missing pieces of the puzzle I mentioned before."

"Yeah you can think of it that way," you say. "I have some, but not enough to really tell what the image is."

"Are you having any luck at least?"

"I haven't even been here for a full day, so I can't really say," you mumble. "I think I'm getting a little bit from what you tell me. My grandparents are of no help. They think if I find out about the incident or whatever I'll be ruined. I suffer from bad dreams relating to it, apparently. After it happened I was even in shell shock or something, it was that bad."

"Maybe it is better to not find out, then."

"Well maybe if I find out I can find out what happened to Jimin." You sit up, looking down at Taehyung. "I might not really know you, but the old me did. Stranger or childhood friend, I'd like to give you some closure. I can tell you're torn up about it still, and I'm sure my reappearance has reopened old wounds. Your mother hoped that I could help you. The incident affected you, too, whether that's from me leaving, Jimin's disappearance, or something else entirely. Maybe I feel as though I owe you this much as an apology, or maybe it's just me being selfish. I do know, however, that my memories wouldn't affect just me. I would like to help you, and I can only pray I'll be able to handle whatever it was back then now that I'm grown."

He studies you for a moment, his eyes dark and brooding. "You know, the more I talk to you, the more you seem like your old self. Perhaps you never really changed, Y/N." His fingers come up to grasp an end of your blue hair, twirling a strand around his slender finger. You can't help but shiver at his touch, part of you yearning for more. "I can't tell you everything, Y/N. Not now at least. I can tell you this much, though. When you left, it crushed me inside. I dealt with the death of my best friend, and then my other just up and left. I had no one to lean on, who understood my pain. It was the first time in my entire life that I was completely and utterly alone. Depending on others was what ultimately destroyed me."

You lean into his touch, his fingers now grazing across your cheek. "Taehyung, I might not remember why I left, but I can honestly say I'm sorry for doing it. Me back then might've left, but I promise I won't. I won't leave you again. You're not truly alone- you never were."

He sits up, and your breath hitches, lungs tight as you realize how close he is to you. You're able to hear his soft breath, and at that moment you feel your heart race.

"You really are the same Y/N," he says, a quirk in his smirk as his thumb brushes over your lower lip, your mouth automatically parting for him. "You're still so naive."

You're frozen as he retreats from you, his warm skin against yours now absent as he stands up, leaving you alone in his room.

-

It's the middle of the night when you suddenly wake up, a sense of panic washing over your body as you sit up abruptly, a cold sweat covering your skin.  All you could hear was your heavy breathing and the scamper of mice a floor above you. Was it a night terror? Or was it something external?

In an effort to slow your palpitating heart, you take deep breaths, closing your eyes. You weren't going to be able to fall back asleep, so it would seem. You sigh, getting up to turn on the light, figuring you could get a glass of water while you're up.

To your surprise, however, once you turn on the light you spy something peculiar. Leaning against the tiny door was a doll.

It wasn't any ordinary doll, though.

It looked exactly like you.

It had everything from your blue hair to the outfit you had worn earlier that day- a yellow raincoat and matching boots. The eyes were of buttons, charcoal black and staring blankly at you.

Excitement rose in your chest as you took it in your hand, examining it. It was closer to a rag doll than anything else, and you didn't feel any sense of dread or fear.

Who had made this?

In all honesty, you found it a bit cute. You were just weird like that.

An idea pops in your head, prodding like it had been ever since you first opened it. You rip the tape at the edges, using all your might and discarding them to the floor. You did promise Taehyung you'd tape it up, but he never said anything about taking the tape down, did he? Soon enough you're twisting the tiny knob, bracing yourself as you feel a harsh wind on your cheeks. Blue hair flying about your face, you look in awe at the tunnel before you, glowing and luminous. You were positive that it had only been brick before.

Were you still asleep? Was this all a dream?

Doll in hand, you crawl through the tunnel, venturing further into the surreal dream. What you could only describe as the sweetest scent filled your nose, and the most beautiful of music graced your ears.

Surprisingly enough, once you were at the other end, you were back in your bedroom.

But not quite.

The room was filled, the walls no longer faded. The shelves were filled with knick-knacks of toys and pictures. On your vanity mirror were written messages in dry erase marker, surprisingly enough in your handwriting. The room teemed with life, as one would suspect from their childhood bedroom. 

This felt far more familiar, oddly enough.

You look about the room, touching the objects before you as though to make sure they're real. You even analyze the message on the mirror, Y/N WAS HERE! It was undeniably your handwriting.

Were you really here before?

"Y/N! Dinner's ready."

What?

You skip out of your room, amazed at the interior of the house. It was as though it got a makeover, teeming with life and personality, color everywhere just as you liked it. No longer the muted or faded colors back home. Your dream seemed to have good taste.

You head to the kitchen, surprised to see your grandmother, her back turned to you as she continued to cook. That wasn't what made you freeze, though. The first thing you noticed was that her wheelchair appeared to be missing.

"You're... You're standing!" 

She turns, giving you a bright smile. Instead of her warm yet stern eyes, you're met with buttons. A pair of charcoal black buttons staring right at you.

"Of course I'm standing, silly girl," the woman laughs, "though this gives me quite a bit of nostalgia. To think, last time it was the buttons, and now it's the standing! Maybe you have changed since we've last seen you. My little girl, all grown up now." She smiles at you, reaching forward to pinch your cheek. "My, Y/N, how big you've grown! We've missed you so much. That's why I've prepared a feast to celebrate your return!"

"Where am I?"

"You always called it the Other World when you were little. Not very original, but it has grown on me. The name sticks!"

"I..." She looked exactly like your grandmother- what with the grey hair and leathery skin. Still, her tone and smile were far more youthful, like a glimpse of the young girl your grandmother once was, simply buried beneath wrinkled skin. Had it not been for her working legs and button eyes, you would've been fooled. "Do I know you?"

"Of course you do! I'm your Other Grandmother, of course. Your Other Grandfather is out. He just finished gardening, though."

"Gardening...?" You were pestering him earlier about planting some flowers or something, but never did you suspect he'd take you up on your suggestion. Perhaps your subconscious had recalled the events from earlier that day in order to manifest the scenario.

"I believe he's planting blue tulips. The ones that match your hair," she remarks, reaching forward to twirl one strand of your hair around her finger. "I must say, it suits you."

"Thank you." 

Her eyes flicker down, noting the doll. "Ah, I see you've finally got our gift! We've been waiting forever to give it to you. You used to beg us for a doll just like that when you were little."

"So I've been here? Or am I just making this dream up as I go along?"

She laughs outright at that. "Of course this isn't a dream, my sweet girl. This is your other life, where you can simply melt the struggles and stress of life away. Here everything is right and as it should be. I, as your Other Grandmother, can walk, and your Other Grandfather gardens. The possibilities are endless, dear."

"So if I was here when I was little... could you tell me a bit about my childhood? Anything really as to why I left?"

Her lips purse slightly. "You were our favorite daughter, no doubt. We loved you very much- and we still do! All of us have been waiting for your return, and are overjoyed. You were a bubbly a bright girl. You and Jimin would always have such fun here."

"Jimin?" You perked up at that. "Can you tell me anything about him? Or Taehyung? Or our time here?"

"My dear, you really don't remember anything, do you?" She strokes your cheek sympathetically. "You three were best friends. All had crushes on each other from what I could tell- ah, young love. Puppy love, more like. You two would visit often and have so much fun. Sometimes one on your own, and sometimes two of you. You'd try to convince Taehyung to come if I remember correctly, but he never believed a perfect place like this could exist. Pity."

"Taehyung never came?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What about Jimin?"

"Ah, he visited most often! He loved it here, no doubt. He wanted to stay here forever. In your world, he had a lot of trouble. What kid didn't? You dealt with your grandparents' health and your feelings for your friends, particularly Taehyung. The boy could never reciprocate even then, so it seems. Jimin, on the other hand, had to deal with his parents' divorce. He was so distraught over it, he honestly spent most of his time here. That was fine with us, of course. You were the daughter we never had and he was the son we never had. This little place of ours was his escape, and we offered him permanent residence. He accepted."

"What happened to him?" 

The Other Grandmother sighs, shaking her head. "I can't tell you that dear. He went missing and was never seen again. I don't think you'll see him again any time soon. His parents moved away, in fact, giving up on the case."

Your heart sinks. "So Taehyung was right... God, what am I going to tell him?"

"Don't fret over things such as that here, my sweet girl," the Other Grandmother assures you, her smile cheerful as she finishes cooking, putting it on a plate and handing it to you. "Here you can simply enjoy yourself and relax. With a snap of my fingers, the world is yours. Might as well call me a genie. Your wish is my command." She chuckles a bit at that.

You look down at the food, your favorite. The smell overwhelms you, and you find yourself salivating. Still, you shake your head, putting it in her hands. "I think I should head back- I need to process everything. If this really is a dream, though, I doubt I'd even be able to taste it."

"Suit yourself, dear. I won't be one to rush you. After all, patience to those who wait, though I've been so eager for your return," she said. "You can leave the way you came in, we'll be here for your next visit. Do promise you'll visit? I'll make sure to give you a special surprise."

"If I can," you say, wary. You clutch the doll, taking one last, long look at the woman as she returns to her busy work. You wander back to your room, crawling through the door and back into your real bed.

-

When you woke up, the doll was in your arms.

No... It was real?

You jolt up, combing your hair and rushing to Taehyung's house, knowing that your folks were very likely still asleep. You grabbed your bag, the little doll now tied to it like a little charm, and was on your way. To say Taehyung was surprised to see you in your pajamas was an understatement, as it was very evident that you had just rolled out of bed.

"You really do want to annoy me, don't you?" Taehyung sighed, shaking his head. "Do you know what time it is, woman? I'm pretty sure it's not even 6 AM. Or are you simply that eager to make childhood memories in adulthood that you rushed here for some sort of childish playdate?"

You ignore his taunting, pulling him towards you. "Taehyung- have you been to the Other World?"

"The what now?" His mind was clearly still trying to comprehend what you were saying, groggy in comparison to your alert enthusiasm.

"You know, the place where everything's great and people have buttons for eyes?"

"How many drugs have you tried since you left?"

"Three, now focus!" You analyze his face for a few moments, looking for any signs of comprehension. "You really don't know it?"

"No. But since you're here I have a bone to pick with you." His eyes cloud over as he wakes up a bit more, anger slowly replacing the drowsiness. "What'd you do with him?"

"With who?"

"Jimin."

"Taehyung... if I knew what happened all those years ago, I'd tell you. I'm so sorry-"

"Not actual Jimin, dumbass. The doll. What'd you do with him?"

"What? What on Earth are you talking about?" This time it was your turn to get confused.

"Don't fuck with me, Y/N. I know you're trying to retrieve your memories and all that, but don't start fucking around with me or my shit. That's your own mess to deal with, and I don't want to get involved. So stealing what was left of my best friend is crossing the line."

"I'm being completely serious right now- I have no clue what you're accusing me of."

He ran a hand over his face in frustration. "When you were in my room. The doll that looked exactly like Jimin?"

"Are you sure you didn't misplace it? I promise you that I have no such thing." Your features soften, and you try to place your hand on his arm to comfort him. Behind him, you use your other hand to reach for your bag, turning it around so that the doll that was tied to it wasn't visible. You wanted to hear what Taehyung was accusing you of, first. "Taehyung, I wouldn't steal from you. Lost memories or not, I don't want to hurt you. I'm slowly beginning to realize how much you meant to me, and I'm sure somewhere inside if both of us are those childhood best friends."

He tenses under your touch, a slight tremble in his lips, and for a moment your heart palpitates. The way he looks at you makes you feel as though he's about to kiss you. Perhaps you were simply projecting, however.

Instead, however, he ruins the daydream clouding your mind, moving away from your touch. "Alright, so you didn't take it. I'm sorry I accused you. I was just frustrated since I noticed it was gone."

You stare at your feet, trying to regain your composure. It wasn't like you to suddenly get flustered. Taehyung might've been the most attractive man you've known, but he was an asshole through and through. The Other Grandmother was right- he'd never reciprocate your feelings. 

But you were a grown woman and not a childish preteen. You could handle rejection, and you weren't going to force your feelings on someone else in an effort to get a relationship out of them. 

"I'll keep an eye out for it, don't worry."

"What is it that you came running over here for, anyway? I'm sure it's not to have a heartfelt chat," he grumbles.

You flush at that, the blood rushing to your cheeks. "I, um, figured out a bit more. About the three of us."

"Oh? So you're getting memories back?"

"Not exactly. Look, forget it, it was stupid of me to come here in the first place." Why was it that he was the first one to pop up in your mind once you woke up? "You won't believe me in the first place."

"Humor me," he says, crossing his arms. "You woke me up at this hour for a reason. I won't let it be for nothing."

You scratched the back of your neck, nervous. "How about this: I say a statement about our childhood and you confirm if it's true or not. I want to find out if the information I got was true."

He shrugs. "Seems fair enough. Shoot."

"Alright, first: Jimin's parents got divorced."

"True- though I could've even told you that. I wouldn't think that'd be that big of a deal," Taehyung remarks.

"Well, it was to him it seems," you mumble. "Second, I had a crush on you."

"Yeah, I guess. As much of a crush as a little kid could have, basically. Honestly, you and Jimin got along far better. I'm sure your grandmother or my own mom could've informed you, though."

You decided it was about time to jump to the big question- one that no one else could've told you. "Jimin and I used to convince you to go to some imaginary place with us when we were little, called the Other World where everything has buttons for eyes, and you'd always refuse."

His brows shot up, genuine shock in his features. "How do you know that? I thought you still had amnesia?"

"I do it's- you wouldn't believe me." You huffed, running your hands over your face. "So it's true?"

"I mean, yeah, but how the hell did you find that out?"

You didn't want to tell him about the Other World, with the little door and the revelations about Jimin and everything. He wouldn't believe you- not now at least. He might deserve some of the information you'd give, but he wasn't ready for the truth. You were still processing it, truthfully. An entirely different world just beyond a little door? Even you had to admit you sounded insane. You had to get more information first.

"I'll see you later, Taehyung."

-

"For the last time, Y/N, we are done discussing the matter," your grandmother fumed, her nostrils flaring. "First you run out of the house without informing us, and at 6 AM no less! Now you're pestering us about nonsense once again."

"There must be something you two can tell me about what happened to me. What happened to Jimin?"

Your grandfather turned to glare at you. "We told you before there's nothing we can tell."

"You raised me, there must be something. Unless you're deliberately hiding something from me," you accused sourly, digging into your oatmeal. You hated arguing during breakfast, but after your conversation with Taehyung, you were left in a sour mood.

"We may have raised you but you didn't spend much time with us. Most of it was with your friends," your grandmother informed you. "The reason we moved away was to keep you from whatever it was that had terrified you so greatly. I knew moving back was a mistake."

"Y/N, you must know we're doing this in your best interest. You were hysterical, and we still don't know what happened. It took you so long to recover. Do you think a military man who got deployed would wish to return to a battlefield? A survivor of attempted murder wishing to be alone with their attacker?"

"You don't get to decide for me anymore, though. I'm an adult and I have the right to know."

"We're telling you the truth. You never told us, and our first instinct was to get you out of there. Have you considered for a moment the possibility that ignorance is bliss? You may regret it once you get informed."

Your grandfather reaches forward, his leathery hand covering your own. "We still want to protect our little girl. It's what your parents would've wanted. Would you really want to throw your life away just like that? Just for a little bit of information? It may not be worth it, and you may just be wasting your time."

"This doesn't just affect me though. My moving affected Taehyung as well. He suffered here alone while I was whisked away."

"If you had seen the way you acted the moment we found you, you'd agree with our judgment. Taehyung didn't endure the trauma you did. We found you battered and bruised and catatonic, muttering 'buttons' over and over again. The next thing we knew, your friend was reported missing, never to be seen again! That could've been you. We tested our luck, and by that time it was only logical to send you someplace safe."

"Buttons?" Your brows furrow. "Why would I be saying buttons?"

Your grandma sighed, shaking her head as she pulled her own bowl of oatmeal into her lap, your grandfather getting up to help her. "Ignorance is a luxury, my dear. It'd be best not to squander it."

-

You picked at your late-night dinner, staring at your Other Grandmother's button eyes. She seemed to sense your suspicions, from how you refused to eat to how you'd simply look at her, analyzing her.

Buttons... buttons... what had happened here?

"Is something wrong, dear?" she questions, raising a perfectly arched brow. "This was one of your favorites when you were little. You loved chicken adobo."

You didn't doubt her. "Tell me a bit more about my time here. What would I do?"

"Oh! You'd do everything. From helping your grandfather here in the garden or helping me cook. You gave us as much love as we gave you." She seemed to melt at the memory, your Other Grandfather nodding in agreement. "And besides Jimin, you'd hang out with Taehyung!"

"Taehyung?" You visibly perked up at that, dropping your utensil, fully alert. "He was here? I thought he never came here."

"Oh, not that Taehyung, silly," she said, waving her hand. "The Taehyung here! The perfect Taehyung!"

"The perfect Taehyung?" He already looked like a god. Sure, he was a bit troubled, but who wasn't?

"Everything's perfect here. Including you." She reaches over to pinch your cheek, something you couldn't recall your actual grandmother doing once. You hear the doorbell ring, and your Other Grandmother clapped her hands, delighted. "Oh! Speak of the devil, he's here. I know you two are too old to call it 'playdates', but have fun! Not too much fun, of course. You're still my little girl."

"Taehyung?" You sit up, bolting from the table to the door. Opening the door, you couldn't help but be surprised. You should've seen it coming, though. Instead of those brooding eyes that would glare at you, filled with sadness and resentment, you were met with buttons. Cold, unfeeling buttons, that didn't display any emotions despite how he'd raise his eyebrows and smile at you.

"Y/N!" His arms wrapped around you, and you were stunned. His voice... was the same. And he looked like your Taehyung. It felt so strange to have him wrap you in a tight hug. You had been yearning for Tae's touch since you had gotten here, whether it was lust-driven or deeper, you didn't know. All you could hear was your heart pumping.

He steps back and you feel your Other Grandmother's hand on your shoulder. She leans in, a girlish giggle escaping her lips. "You know, you always had a crush on Tae. In this world and the next. It's good to see that things haven't changed. I think now that you've matured, though, you'll know who to pick."

She steps back momentarily before shrieking, stepping over to the porch to kick at the cat. "Oh, that damned cat!"

You turn to look at it, but it scampers off before you could get a look at it. "What was that about?"

"Oh, it just digs up in my gardens. Don't worry, I'll get it one day," she huffs before letting her usual serene smile spread over her face. "Now, why don't you two have fun? I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on."

"Er... sure."

You look at Taehyung, about to awkwardly question him where he wanted to go before he wrapped his hand around yours. Your heart thundered in your chest, violently pounding as he smiled to you, tugging you along. "C' mon, I'll take you to our favorite place."

You had no choice but to follow along, completely dumbfounded. The Tae you knew would never be like this. He was so cold and aloof, as though your mere presence brought him pain. Despite it, you couldn't help but feel the emotions rise in your chest, as though they were now being awoken from their slumber. Feeling his hand in yours only confirmed the past feelings that seemed to reemerge.

This Taehyung already seemed different, though. He was more extroverted, friendly, warm. You didn't know what to make of it, though.

He looked the same save for the black buttons, and you had no doubt that you had been with this boy too during your childhood. 

Was this what she meant by the perfect Taehyung? The one who would hold your hand and smile at you? Who didn't seem so sad and angry at everyone?

It wasn't long before the two of you had gone to a well, sitting on top of the lid. It seemed secure enough as Taehyung's back leaned against yours, your fingers still intertwined.

You missed this. Something told you that you did. His fingers locked so perfectly with yours, not too thick like a lot of men's, where your fingers would suffocate between his. No, it felt as though his hand was locked with yours. You wondered if the real Taehyung's hand would fit like this.

"Why's this our spot?" you questioned.

"Look up," he says, pointing up to the stars above your heads. "This was where we could see the stars clearest."

"They're beautiful." They looked closer to carefully stitched stars on a quilt, as though someone with master craftmanship managed to sew it together.

"The Other Grandmother is talented. She makes everything here beautiful so beautiful people can stay here."

"She made all of this?" you questioned, eyes widened. "Like, by hand?"

"Of course! It's like a Garden of Eden. She made everything perfect for you," he beams. His face softens as he thinks for a moment. "She kept it like this, though. Hasn't touched it since you left. We've been waiting for you to come back. I've missed you a lot."

"You have?" Was he even real? None of this seemed to be.

"Of course!" Other Taehyung grinned, wrapping his arms around you, this hug not as brief as the first. "I don't think I can remember a single day where I didn't think about you. I'm just glad you're back, y' know? Best not to dwell on the past. Just look forward to the future."

He truly was nothing like Taehyung.

"So... did the Other Grandmother make you too?"

His frowns slightly at that for the briefest of moments, but it disappears as quickly as it had appeared. "Yeah. I told you, she made everything perfect just for you. You'd always come here crying because of how mean Taehyung in your world was. He'd be so mean, paying more attention to Jimin than you, and didn't seem to like you back. So, she gave you a friend who would pay attention to you, be kind, return your feelings."

"So you loved me?"

"I was made to," he confirms. "But in a sense, everyone is, huh? I mean, that's what soulmates are supposed to be."

"I guess I should've taken you as a dreamer. Real-world Taehyung isn't."

"What's he like?" Other Tae's voice got a bit quiet, but he cocked his head to the side, curious. "I'm not supposed to ask, but I've always been curious."

"Well, he's cool. A bit cold and aloof, and a bit... sad. I know it must hurt him to see me, but I know he tries. He's not that good at it, but he tries. And... I think things can get better with him, y' know? He needs a friend."

"No, I mean why did you like someone who made you cry so much?"

"Oh." You think about it for a moment. Did you cry back the over him? You supposed you were far more sensitive back then, but now simply let his attempts to push you away bounce off. "I don't really know, to be honest. I don't think I'd truly know even if I did have my memories. We can't choose who we fall for, right? We don't choose soulmates. People fall for those who hurt them for different reasons, but I guess for back then I was just little. I didn't really think much of it, I suppose. I thought he was cute and he was still a little boy who wasn't concerned with the prospect of adult things such as love."

"So why do you still love him now?"

"What?" You snap your head in his direction, flabberghasted. "No, I don't. I mean, I'm attracted to him and all- but it's not what you think! I'm not like, 'Oh, I love bad boys!' because of his cold demeanor. He's kinda weird but I owe it to him and all to help him, right? I mean... right? And he's the only person around here who apparently knew me, other than in the Other World, ha... But I don't love him. I don't even like him. Nope."

Other Taehyung simply looks away, a small quirk to his lips. "You really haven't changed, huh?"

"I'll tell you one thing- you're the exact opposite of him. Usually, I'm the one who's asking him questions."

"I'm supposed to be perfect, remember?"

"Yeah..." Your eyes drift, and soon you spot a small calico cat. "Oh my God, is that the cat?"

"That's him- you don't want to talk to him though. Other Grandmother- oh, well, nevermind."

"Aren't you a cutie! A boy calico cat! Other Taehyung, do you know how rare these are? One in three thousand!" You pick up the cat, scooping it in your arms as you pet it. He purred in your arms. "You're just adorable, aren't you?"

"Y/N... you should really put it down. Other Grandmother really won't like-"

"Oh please, she's just not a cat person. She should chill," you say. "Hey... why doesn't this one have button eyes? I thought everything here did. Hell, I even saw a fly with buttons for eyes."

"It's just a weird cat, Y/N. Can we please go? Please put the cat down," he insists.

"Alright, alright. I don't know if you're allergic or something, but whatever." You huff, putting down the calico. It rubs against your legs, purring still as it stays by your side. You scratch behind its ear, grinning. "I think I'll name you Mochi because you're cute enough to eat!"

"Don't give it a name!" Other Taehyung says, a worried tone as he takes your hand, walking you along. "Come on, it's probably about time you go home."

"What? But I don't-"

"Just trust me, ok?"

"Why should I?" You yank your hand from his grip. "I barely know you."

"You trust your Taehyung, don't you?"

"I mean..."

"We're two sides of the same coin, as hard as it may seem. Please. I'll see you soon, ok?"

You sigh, knowing you weren't going to get your way. He seemed genuinely stressed and worried, and real or not, you found it impossible to deny the guilt you were beginning to feel at his concern. "Alright, fine. I'll see you soon, Other Tae."

"Thank you. I'm sorry."

You didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for but decided not to pry. It seemed to be the only thing he shared in common with real Taehyung so far.

-

"You don't by any chance hate cats, do you?" you question, looking skeptically up towards your grandmother.

She quirked a brow, looking up from her morning paper, like the old lady she was. You couldn't think of a single person under forty who didn't use the internet to find out the news. "No, of course not. I'd have ten if your grandfather wasn't allergic, and even then, he's more of a dog person. You remember how he'd always go on about that pooch he had back in the seventies."

"Yeah, I remember," you murmur. "Well, are there any cats around here?"

"Only a stray I caught up on our roof the other day. I have no doubt he's made millions of paw prints on top, but Lord knows it would be a miracle for me to ever see them, especially in this damned wheelchair. No matter, though, even in my prime I was scared of heights. Don't worry about the cat, though, he came down eventually."

Your ears perked up at that. "What'd the cat look like?"

"Deary me, darling, since when were you so invested in those fluffy little things? I thought you were like your grandfather: a dog person," she says.

"Please answer the answer, Grandmother."

"Oh, let me see. It had some spots on it, like orange and brown and a bit of black. Mainly white, though."

"So a calico?"

"Ah, yes! That's the word. Calico," your grandmother hums. 

"Is it alright if I go to Taehyung's house?" you question, getting up from the table.

"Oh, alright. I'm glad you two are friends again. I used to tell your grandfather that you missed him even when you didn't know he existed," she said, smiling. "I was more or less rooting for Taehyung back in the day. Your grandfather not so much, I'm sure he'll give me the five bucks he's owed me for fives years by the end of the week. I've always had an advantage of course- you had a bit of a crush on him when you were younger. Guess old habits never change."

She seemed to be right in that regard.

-

"You can't seem to stay away from me, can you?"

"Of course not, you're irresistible," you mutter to Taehyung, pushing past him. "I've got a normal question for once."

"That in itself makes it the opposite of normal."

"Whatever. Tell me, is there a stray calico around here?" you question, looking up at him.

"There is. My mom likes to feed it, but she can't settle on a name. I think this week the name's Pudding," he says. "You didn't come here for me to just give you the name of a cat, did you?"

"No, but you need to help me find it," you say, grabbing his hand to tug.

"You're joking right?" he asks, a ludicrous expression on his face. "I might have something to do."

"No, you don't. You're just going to stay inside and watch Netflix all day, aren't you?"

"You just say that because everyone our age does that."

"Am I right?"

"Do I really have to answer?"

"Then let's go."

-

"If you really think I'm going to climb a tree to get some goddamn cat, you're dumber than I thought," Taehyung huffs.

You both stare up the tree, a particular high branch acting as a perch for the calico. His tail swished back and forth, gleaming eyes staring down at the two of you. Watching, observing. You place the bag down, the doll at the very bottom of it to keep from Tae's prying eyes. You begin to wipe your hands against your shirt, drying them.

"I named it Mochi," you say. "It's a boy."

"You've met it already?" 

"Something like that," you mutter, walking up to the tree and grabbing hold of a lower branch.

"Woah woah woah, what do you think you're doing?" Taehyung tugs you back. "That's way too high and dangerous for a person to do. You could fall and get hurt."

"Didn't we climb trees as kids?"

"None like that. Just leave the cat alone, it'll come down if it wants to," Taehyung says.

"I just want to get a closer look at Mochi," you say, releasing yourself from Taehyung's grip to proceed.

He doesn't let you off that easily though, yanking you back down and blocking your way, crossing his arms. At that moment you could truly observe how much larger he was, chest built and shoulders broad, his height allowing him to tower over you. He truly was a man and not the little boy from the pictures.

You glare at him, observing. You couldn't help but think back to Other Tae, Regular Taehyung's eyes slowly being replaced with buttons and his frown being replaced with a smile. "Say, did you like me back when we were little?"

He seemed surprised by your sudden question. "What? Where'd that come from?"

"Just answer the question."

"I mean," he huffed, trailing off as he scratches his head, perplexed, "I probably did. You were a girl and I was a boy and I only hung out with you and Jimin. I guess I did."

"I don't want you to guess. Did you like me back?"

"Yes? Uh, yes. I did." His ears burn red. "What's this about?"

"Do you think the reason you're so mean to me and push me away could be because of the lack of closure that was brought upon by my leaving? Therefore leaving you in a confused state where you treat me in the same way a little boy treated his crush because you couldn't comprehend the transition of our relationship from kids into adults?"

"What?"

"I mean I'd get it if you're just letting out the resentment you feel because I left before, but from the sound of it, you acted similarly when we were little. And your behavior does remind me of an elementary schooler. Not that I think you still harbor any feelings towards me, but perhaps you don't know how else to act around me."

"Where's all of this coming from?"

You shook your head. "Ah, nevermind. I didn't mean that."

"Wait, hold up, you can't just analyze people like that and expect-"

"Shush, the cat's coming down!" Indeed, it was, jumping from branch to branch until it was at the closest one. You reached out tentatively, the cat preening and rubbing its head against your hand, purring. You couldn't help but smile. "That's a good Mochi. You're a sweet boy, aren't you?"

"Are you here just to waste my time?" Taehyung huffed. "I like cats as much as the next person, but I'm more of a dog person."

"Shush for a moment," you say. "Mochi, do you remember me, boy? Back at the well?"

Mochi's ears seemed to prick up at that, and he immediately jumps off the tree, scampering off. You grab Taehyung's hand, and before he even has time to protest you're running through the woods, dodging trees in an attempt to keep up with the cat.

"Hurry up! You've got longer legs than me, you should be faster," you scold him, your hand tight in his.

"I'm trying! You've always been a faster runner than me!"

You couldn't help but gloat at that.

You let out a shock of amazement when you find yourself at the well. It was covered in dirt and plants, though, ivy growing around it and mud caking every surface.

Taehyung breathed heavily, trying to regain composure. "God, you know, for a moment there it felt like the old days of you dragging me through the woods to follow your hairbrained schemes."

You ignored his reminiscence, however. "Taehyung! Mochi found the well!"

You looked to the cat, sitting delicately on the top of the covered well, staring at you expectantly. You lower yourself to his level, staring it in the eye. "You understand me, don't you?"

"Y/N, you're talking to a cat. Are you sure you aren't going crazy? How'd you even know about this place?" Taehyung brushes some of the dirt off of the surface, avoiding touching the cat. Mochi ignored Taehyung's hesitance, however, rubbing against Taehyung's hand, yearning for his touch.

You loosen the well's top, sliding it over to the side as the cat stayed on top. It wasn't until you had it drop to the ground that Mochi jumped off. You looked inside, only seeing pitch black.

"Because it's our favorite spot."

"You and Mochi's?"

"No, you and me. Well, not exactly you," you say.

"I don't follow."

"Sit down," you say, tugging on his sleeve so he sits with you on the edge of the well. "You're not going to believe me. You didn't believe me and Jimin ten years ago, from the sound of it, but you need to listen to me."

"Y/N, what's going on-"

You grab his face in your hands, forcing him to make eye contact, your faces inches apart. "Taehyung."

He stays quiet, a signal that he was listening.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. "There's this world that Jimin and I had accessed before, ten years ago. It's exactly like this world but... better. It's so cloudy and gloomy here, and there it's always bright and warm. The feeling is like when you sink your teeth into a freshly baked batch of cookies, you know? There's this tiny door I use to access the place, and when I say it's magical, it truly is. The people are there, too. But... not. For one, my grandmother can walk, and everyone has these button eyes... including you."

"Wait, what? Me? I'm in this 'world'? And I have buttons for eyes?"

"Yes. It's not really you. It's something my Other Grandmother made for me- all of it was made for me, and even Jimin at some point. So the version of you there is nothing like the one you really are, here, in this world."

"How so?"

"He loves me."

Taehyung's quiet at that. You continue. "I had a crush on you when we were little, and you were always mean to me, similar to how you are now apparently. So the Other Grandmother gave me a version of you that finally felt the same way about me. He was made to love me in your absence, I suppose. She called him the Perfect Taehyung."

"What's the point of you telling me all of this?"

"Because," you say, jumping up excitedly, "that's where the answers are! The incident, I'm sure it happened there! And I think it'll help you find out where Jimin went, too. I can bring you there and we can get answers. I know the Other Grandmother knows more than she leads on, and she's kind, she'll tell us. Especially if you tell her-"

"If you and Jimin went to this world, why didn't I? We were a trio, inseparable," Taehyung interjects.

"Jimin and I were dealing with things that required a place to escape. I had to deal with my grandparents' health and you not reciprocating feelings, while Jimin had to deal with his parents' divorce. Can you think of something like that you were dealing with at the time?"

"No," he admits. "I was a happy kid."

"That's hard to believe," you snort. "Nevertheless, Other Taehyung- that's what I call that version of you, by the way- is willing to help me find out information. You two are supposed to be like two sides of the same coin, he said. He said if I trusted you, I should trust him."

"You trust me?"

"I do."

"What does a cat have to do with any of this?"

"The cat is the only thing in that world that didn't have button eyes. I'm confident this is the same cat. Mochi was here with me when Other Taehyung and I went to the well. The Other Grandmother wasn't fond of him, either, which is weird. That means she didn't make him like she made everything else. He's... special."

Taehyung didn't say anything, soaking in your information.

"Tae, please, come with me and I can show you-"

Taehyung looks away before standing up, a shadow cast across his face, as though he refused to believe you. "Y/N... stop."

"What? Stop what?"

"Stop this. Stop playing with my head and stop playing with your own. This Other World isn't real, and you need to face reality. You're probably dreaming this stuff as a way to cope with the missing information, to piece everything together. You're living in this fantasy ever since you remembered the game you and Jimin used to play."

"But Jimin-"

"Jimin is dead," Taehyung said harshly, glaring at you. "He's dead, Y/N. End of story."

You fumed, stepping up to him and meeting his eye. "Give me a chance to show you. I'm not crazy, and I'm not making this stuff up."

"Leave me out of this, Y/N."

"No!" you shouted, grabbing onto his sleeve before he could walk away. "You're in this as much as I am! You've reminded me that you weren't the only one affected by the incident. Every action I make does impact you to some degree. We're childhood friends, Taehyung. Don't tell me you don't care about me anymore."

He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw. "It's only human to care."

"No, you know what I mean. You care about me the same way I care about you, perhaps more so. You remember the little me who got a dumb tattoo and had a stupid crush on you. I'm still that girl, just a bit more mature. And I know somewhere behind all that adult angst you're the little boy who enjoyed life more than his two friends."

"Y/N-"

"You loved me. I loved you. We're still the same people we were back then, Taehyung, just a few inches taller and just a few scars more. I feel so intensely for you, and I don't even remember the majority of our time spent together. So what about you?"

Taehyung pulls from your grip. "You're just reopening old scars, Y/N."

"Well, there are some things that time won't heal! And this is one of them! We've got an opportunity, and..." Your argument dies in your throat when you see him begin to cry, eyes glassy as fast tears fall down his cheeks. "Taehyung?"

He wipes them away, taking a step back as he looks at you with a pained expression on his face. "You don't know when to stop, do you? You never have."

"Taehyung..."

"I'm damaged, Y/N. I'm so damaged. I'm selfish and I had always dreamt of you coming back to fix me, you know? I thought you'd take away all of the pain but instead, you bring more. I can't ask you to fix me, that's no one's responsibility but my own, and I can't put my burdens on your shoulders."

"Taehyung, I'm more than willing to help you. That's all I was intending-"

"You're not helping, though!" he snaps back. "At some point, you've got to put intentions aside and really think about what you're doing. It doesn't matter how good your intentions are if you're hurting someone, is it?"

You didn't have anything to retort that.

"That's what I thought," he sighed. He tentatively steps forward, holding your cheek with such tenderness you would've thought you were made of glass. Instead, you realize it was because he was the fragile one, as though he were afraid that even touching you would break him. "I do still love you. I do still care about you. We are the same people we were, deep down, and I can never stop loving by best friends: the lost boy and the amnesiac. It's because I love you that I want you to do what I never could- move on. You're given a chance I wasn't, and you're not as shattered as I am. If you continue this path you're going to hurt yourself. Save me that pain, at least, ok? Give me at least a little hope, even if it's for you."

You didn't realize it, but your eyes had started to well up with tears. You attempt to hold him in your arms, to hold him close and console him, but he slips away too quickly. He turns aside, Mochi at his heels and in front of him, as though trying to stop him. Taehyung simply stops, moving the cat aside with his foot, carrying on until he disappeared back in the direction you two came from.

You sit back on the well with Mochi, stroking his fur as you wonder where you went wrong.

-

Ultimately you decide to go back to Taehyung's house the next day, spending a little less than 24 hours contemplating the argument from before. It was evening when you found yourself on his front porch, dampening the welcome mat with the water that you had soaked you to the bone, despite the yellow rain apparel you adorned. Damn thundershowers.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he questions in lieu of a greeting, an exasperated look on his face. He was only wearing a tee and sweats and judging from the lack of cars outside, you assumed he was home alone. He seemed to already know it was you, almost as though he were expecting you to come to visit him and annoy him further.

You suck in a deep breath. "I just wanted to say that... I'm sorry."

He seems surprised at that. 

"I am," you continue, "and I know that what I've done has only hurt you more than intended. Bringing up the past and dragging you through memories you don't want to revisit, it has to hurt. I demand answers from you that you don't have yourself, and I know you want to forget. Regardless of what I think, I can't force you to do anything. If you choose to forget, so be it. I have to respect your decisions when it comes to coping, even if they don't coincide with my own. It's unfair of me to assume you're the answer to everything, to all of my problems.

"You said before that you used to fantasize about me fixing you. I used to think the same thing. I thought one moment with you would bring upon a flurry of memories, and I'd be... whole again. And it didn't happen. But I kept trying. I kept thinking that if I spent time with you, the person who was one half of my world when we were younger, I'd be fixed. But we can't expect someone else to be our savior. That's unfair to them. You were mature enough to realize that, but I wasn't. I pestered my grandparents into bringing me back, undoubtedly hurting them too. I hurt you the most, though, and I'm really, really sorry. I was being selfish and thinking only of myself. You deserve better."

There's a pause, only the continuing rain to fill the silence.

Suddenly, Taehyung laughs.

"You know, when we were younger you'd never apologize for anything. You were just stubborn, and you never liked to admit when you were in the wrong."

You offer a weak smile. "Good to know that I matured at least a little bit."

You share that moment for just a bit, a mutual understanding reached between the two of you. You remember something and opened the bag you always carried around with you. "Oh, there's one more thing I have to tell you, though. You mentioned this doll that looked like Jimin, and I swear I didn't take that one, but right when I got here I got one that looked like me..."

You take out the doll, seeing how Taehyung's face pales in comparison. "What? What's wrong? I swear I won't ask about it, but it seemed imp-"

"Get rid of it," he whispers.

"What?"

"Y/N, please..." He lets out an exasperated sigh, pulling you inside. "Please, just get rid of it."

"Why, though?"

"Why do you always have to ask questions?"

"Because I want to know, why else?"

"Because it's just like the doll Jimin had! Before... before he died," Taehyung said. "I can't lose you too, Y/N. There are too many coincidences. You're just like him before he went away. Talking about some other world, carrying around that... that thing. Please, please just-"

"Ok, ok!" You grab the doll, throwing it into the rain. It fell into a puddle of mud and rain. You close the door behind you. "It's gone, it's gone ok? Calm down, please. It's gone now."

Taehyung grabbed onto your shoulders, forcing you to make eye contact with him. "Don't go to this... this world. Dream or not, I don't know, don't go. I can't lose you, too. Y/N, please don't. It was a mistake for you to come back. You should've stayed where you are. Why can't you just leave it at forgetting? It's safer. This place, I don't know what it is or who it is, something's doing what they did to Jimin to you. You can't call me crazy or paranoid, because you're going on about button eyes and other people and cats in two worlds! I can't just stand aside and see what happened to Jimin happen to you. I tried to ignore it before, convincing myself I was trying to connect dots that weren't there, but if anything happens to you... I couldn't live with myself."

"Taehyung, I'm ok, I promise-"

"No, you're not! You're eating yourself up trying to find out the truth, just like I did. And it's driving you down the same path that led Jimin to his death. On and on he'd go on about some other world just like yours and carried around a little doll just like yours, and he's dead now. Get it in your head, Y/N. You can't go back to that place. You need to get as far away from here as possible."

"I told you I wasn't going anywhere-"

"I can't risk losing another person I love!" Tears are streaming down his face once again. "I love you, ok? Whether it's you now, a grown woman, or us as kids, where we'd just fight and play and do dumb shit. Jimin was like a brother to me and I couldn't stop his death."

"I'm not just the little girl you used to know, though."

"No, you're not! You're a woman who's too curious for her own good, trying to unravel a mystery and the truth despite the objections of everyone. You listen only to your own voice and you care for people beyond repair despite the fact you truly have no responsibilities for their burdens. And goddammit, you might be annoying but I fucking love you, ok? One way or another. So please, for once listen to me."

"Taehyung..."

His eyes search your own, as though trying to see some sort of answer, some sort of confirmation that you were going to finally listen to his words. He smashed his lips to yours, and you find yourself immediately responsive, arms hooking around his neck as he pulls you up, your legs finding their way around his waist.

It's so fast, you stripping off your rain boots and jacket along the way. Before you know it your back bounces against a mattress. You didn't have long to process, however, Taehyung crawling over you to kiss you again, his tongue diving into your mouth and exploring every inch. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to memorize the feeling of his body against yours, the movement of his lips, the feeling of the moment right now.

"Taehyung," you gasp between kisses, his lips never leaving your own for long. It isn't until he's kissing the side of your neck that you're able to properly speak. "Taehyung, please."

"What is it, baby?" he rasps into the side of your neck, the word ringing in your head.

"Wanna taste you," you say, clinging onto his clothes to bring him impossibly closer, despite the fact his broad chest was pressed already so tightly to your own.

"Mm, I like the sound of that," he hums lower, his voice baritone. He climbs off of you, and you miss the absence of his warm body, but all thoughts of that are forgotten when he starts to undo the drawstring to his sweatpants.

You find yourself kneeling in front of him, licking the fabric of his underwear before seeing his semi. He was already a bit bigger than expected, and the thought of him stretching you out only excites you. You hold him in your hand, licking from base to tip before going back down, sucking a sack into your mouth as you pumped his shaft.

"I want to be in your mouth," he groans, one hand going down to tangle into your blue hair. "No hands. If I wanted hands I'd just do it myself."

You obey, letting go of his dick to begin sucking at the tip, hollowing out your cheeks as you bobbed your head, slowly taking him further down your throat, inch by inch. You weren't capable of deep throating him, however, as he was a bit bigger than guys you were used to. He didn't seem to mind, though, simply enjoying the sight of you on your knees. The deeper you went, the messier it got. Soon enough you were choking not only on his dick but on your own spit.

"Fuck, you're so good at sucking cock," he praised, his hand moving your head how he pleased up and down his dick. He lets you take a breath, a trail of saliva connecting your mouth the tip before snapping off. "Where'd you learn to suck cock like that, baby?"

"College," you smiled. "Never sucked a cock this big, though."

It was true. He was now fully erect and at attention, an inch or two more than what you were accustomed to, and just as girthy.

He chuckled lowly, "Is that right? You think all of it will be able to fit inside that tight cunt of yours?"

"Make it."

"Fuck, you're nasty."

He lets go of your hair, pulling you up to the mattress. It's not long before you're stripped down to your underwear. You curse yourself for not wearing something cuter, not expecting to get laid when you came to apologize to Taehyung.

You wondered to yourself for a moment if Taehyung was using sex as a means to persuade you, stringing you along by your feelings in an attempt to get you to obey him. Did he really love you and care for you as he said he did? Did he really want to have sex with you? Or was this just a means of getting his way?

You didn't have much time to think about it, however, his large hands spreading your thighs apart, revealing your vulnerable cunt to him. He licked his lips, looking you in the eye.

"Looks good enough to eat," he joked.

"Then do it already," you snapped, impatient.

"God, you're such a bitch," he growled, diving down to lick a stripe up your folds, earning a shudder from you. "But you're my bitch, aren't you? My little bitch in heat."

"Fuck, just shut up and keep going."

He did as he was told without further commentary, flicking his tongue to collect as many juices as he could, sucking harshly at your clit to make you squirm. With the way he was pinning you down to the bed, there was really nothing else you could do other than lay there and take it, staring him in the eye as best you could until you simply tossed your head back into the sheets, curling your hands into his hair, making tight fists.

He seemed pleased, hissing with pleasure as you yanked at his scalp, a fellow masochist. It only pushed him further, his mouth devouring you whole as he urged you to get closer to your high, never slowing down to take a breath. It was as though he wanted to die between your thighs, and if he continued for even five more seconds, you'd let him do just that.

Suddenly it stopped, though, and you're giving him a look of frustration, sitting up to scold him. He simply looks smug in response, his lower face covered in a clear sheen of your juices. He licks his lips, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"The fuck was that for?" you question, huffing as he pins you back down to your back.

"The first time you cum, I want it to be on this fat cock," he clarifies.

You reach between the two of you, stroking him as you spread your legs invitingly. "Do you need a written invitation?" you ask, quirking a brow.

"God, you really are a bitch," he groans, aligning himself with your entrance. The two of you let out a groan of pleasure once he begins to sink in, the tip beginning to dive into your tight walls. You were so wet, though, you didn't doubt that you could take all of him.

"Oh yeah, fuck, call me a bitch again," you demand, gritting your teeth as he sinks in deeper.

"Such a bitch, my little bitch," Taehyung says, following your orders, too focused on the pleasure of your hot walls enveloping him. "Tight, nasty little bitch, all mine for the taking."

"All yours," you promise, your legs hooking around his waist, digging your heels into his ass to drive him further. 

"G-going to stop being a brat then? Stop being a bitch and listen to me?" he questions, past the halfway point.

"You don't own me," you gasp out, feeling how completely he was filling you.

"O-own this tight little pussy, though, fuck!" You both hiss, concentrating on the pleasurable stretch of your walls to accommodate his girth as he bottomed out into you, the head kissing your cervix. Never before did you feel as full as you did now, as though his thick cock was made to be inside of you. The pleasurable stretch was unlike anything you were used to.

"Yeah, you own it, nothing can compare," you say. "Please, move already."

"You ready?"

"Yes, move already."

He doesn't need any further prodding, slowly moving his hips to rock into you. You both groaned, moaning as his hips slapped against your own, the pace increasing gradually. 

"Fuck, this pussy was made for me," Taehyung says, his cock beginning to pound into your cervix, bruising it. “Look at me fucking you. So big you can see how deep I am.”

You looked down, seeing how he fucked you, your belly protruding from the size of him. He was so big, filling you up, that you could practically see him in your guts, impossibly deep. 

"Oh my god, Tae, right there." Your nails stretch down his back, nails digging in as you moan unabashedly."Keep going, don't stop!"

"Right there?" He stimulates your g-spot, and you're unable to contain yourself, eyes beginning to roll into the back of your head due to pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm close," you moaned, the wanton sounds causing Taehyung's balls to tighten.

"Yeah? Gonna cream on this fat cock, nasty bitch?"

You weren't even able to answer, mouth agape as he slithered a hand between the two of you, rubbing your clit. That was all it took for you to go over the edge, white-hot bliss spreading all the way to your fingertips.

He throbbed inside of you, ready to burst, ready to fill you up. "Fuck, that's it, get my dick nice and wet, that's a good little bitch," Taehyung praises, continuing to pound into you to help you ride out your orgasm.

It isn't long until he follows after you, bottoming out as he holds you close, painting your walls white. The two of you breathe heavily, holding each other close, trying to process what happened.

"I have a spare change of clothes for you, and you can take a shower here if you want to spend the night," he offers.

You're quiet for a moment, turning your back away from him, his arm still around you so that you were now spooning. "Did you want to have sex with me? Or is it just to convince me?"

He's quiet.

"I've wanted to have sex with you for a long time. Even when we were little. After you moved, I thought about what you'd look like. I think I had my first wet dream about you when I was around twelve, in fact. When I got the talk, I used to think you'd be the girl I'd lose it to. We'd both lose it to each other before college and all that stuff."

"And?"

"And I wanted more, too, I think. I liked you even when we were little. I was crazy about you."

"Then why were you so mean to me?"

"I was a boy who didn't know how to express how he felt." He laughed a bit at that. "I was the kid who'd tug at your pigtails to annoy you, and Jimin'd have to scold me. Maybe you're right. Maybe I still act like that around you because that's all I know. I did feel the same way you did about me, though. I was just too scared to tell you."

"So why'd we have sex now? Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"Because I guess I'm still scared. I don't want to drag you into my problems. I don't want to hurt you. I want to keep you safe, but when I freaked out all I could think of was 'I'm losing her for real this time'. All these years all I've ever wanted to do was kiss you, and not in the way we did when we were little and wanted to just get it over with. I wanted to for real kiss you, and it just went from there. Do you regret it?"

"No, I don't. I wanted it, too. For a while." You turn around to face him again, face to face. "I don't need you to be my hero, Tae. We can help each other, support each other, in fact. We can be there for each other. It doesn't mean we've got to depend on the person to fix us. It's more like the person who holds the pieces as you glue them back together, you know? We help each other fix ourselves. That's all we can do."

He smiles a bit at that, shuffling a bit closer so that his nose brushes against your own. "I'd like that."

-

It's past midnight, and you sit in front of the door, contemplating. You had snuck out of Taehyung's, still wearing his clothes and smelling like him, all because you couldn't sleep. You knew why. The familiar skitter of the rats in the attic made sure to keep you equally restless now, unable to doze off even if you climbed into your own bed. You told Other Taehyung you'd come to see him. But what if none of it was real? What if you really were delusional or dreaming? The actions you were taking were hurting the real Taehyung.

You contemplated your choices, pondering.

Ultimately it was your life. You didn't want to hurt Taehyung, but he couldn't make his choices for you. You'd have to leave him be for him to heal since there was no way for you to rest like this. You look behind you, making eye contact with the doll tied to your bag, the buttons unblinking.

Jimin had a doll just like it and was in the world with you. Dream or not, you've got to find out what happened to him and you.

Sorry, Tae, but one of us has to know what happened to Jimin. I wouldn't want to die without anyone knowing what happened to me.

You swing open the door, crawling through the tunnel and into the exact replica of your room. You don't bother looking around, finding your way easily to the Other Grandmother, a pleasant smile on her face as she holds up a plate of pancakes, chocolate chips making the smile.

"There you are!" she says. "I've been wondering where you'd be. I made you your favorite!"

"It's not breakfast time, though."

"Where's your sense of wonder, Y/N? Who cares what time it is? It's always time for chocolate chip pancakes," she laughs.

You look down at it, pushing it away as you stare at those black, button eyes of hers. "I'm not a little girl anymore."

She frowns at that. "I know that. I just wanted to live out the good old days, you know?"

"That'd be with Jimin, though. He's not around."

"That's right. Pity. I miss the boy," she sighs, taking back the plate. "Fine, if you're not going to have pancakes, what do you want?"

"I don't want any food, right now."

"Oh? Don't tell me you filled up already," she chuckled. "Midnight snack?"

"Tell me what happened here ten years ago."

Other Grandmother simply let out a sigh, turning back to you. She wore a disappointed look, the same way a parent looks at their child throwing a tantrum for the tenth time. "My my, you say you're all grown up but you haven't changed one bit. You still make demands of me when I literally give you the world."

You sit down in the chair in front of her. "What's it going to take for you to stop dodging my questions? I just need to find out the truth."

"Don't you like it here, Y/N? Isn't the grass greener, isn't magic in the air? Aren't I nicer than your grandmother? Isn't Other Taehyung in love with you?"

"Yes, but-"

"I've given you everything you asked for, Y/N. Ten years I've waited for you, keeping everything exactly how you liked it, and here you are, unsatisfied as always. I never even got a thank you." You feel guilt pool into the pit of your stomach, and you feel like a child being rightfully scolded by their parents.

You look into your lap, lowering your lashes. "Thank you."

Her smile returned to her face, washing away the glimpse of sadness and disappointment. "See, that wasn't so hard? I raised you just as much as your real parents did, possibly more. They couldn't give you the attention a child such as yourself needed, what with their health and all. Why you'd be so damaged if I left you to be neglected."

Damaged. Your mind wanders back to Taehyung.

"Where's Other Taehyung?"

"About time you think of the boy. He loves you so much, he's been waiting for you in the garden since you left. Make sure to return here, though. I'm willing to tell you the truth if you really wish to hear it."

Your ears perk up at that, and you open your mouth to question her further, but she holds a delicate hand up to silence you. "Go to the boy first. I made him specifically to love you, and love you he shall."

You turn on your heel to go to the backyard. You barely paid attention to the bright colors and the sweet scents of the flowers, brilliant in comparison to the sludge you had to call a backyard. No, instead you made a beeline for the boy in the center, strangely enough sitting on the biggest pumpkin you've ever seen. You didn't pay much attention to it, though.

"Tae! Other Tae!" 

His head whips around, his puppy-like smile gracing his lips as he sees you. "Y/N!" he calls back, your name a siren call.

You're in his arms before you know it, held in a tight hug. "Other Grandmother told me you were waiting for me," you say.

"I'm always willing to wait for you. What's a day or two compared to ten years?" he laughs. "I've missed you, though."

"I missed you too, strangely enough." 

It was rare you got to see someone who was happy to see you in the real world. It was the Other Taehyung that made this place warm and inviting, truly. Not brilliant flowers or freshly cooked food. No, it was seeing someone who cared about you, who smiled at the mere sight of you. Despite the fact you couldn't look into his eyes and read his emotions, you were able to feel them.

You jump from his hug. "Oh, the cat! Mochi, he's in both worlds!"

Other Tae's brows furrow. "What do you mean?"

"Like, the cat, you know, the one we saw yesterday?" you ramble. "Me and real Taehyung- well, I don't mean it like that- we saw it! At the same well."

"So you know where the well is in the real world too?"

"Yeah, well, this is like a mirror of home, isn't it?" You gesture around. "I had help, though. Even Taehyung didn't know where the well was. Mochi helped guide us, though."

Other Tae had a nervous look on his face. "Did he?"

You frown. "What's wrong?"

"Y/N... I want to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Would you stay here? With me?" He sees the shock on your face and is quick to talk. "You'd be so happy here, Y/N. I love you, you know that. You'd have your favorite food whenever you'd want. You'd never have to work or lift a single finger, everything would be provided. You'd get to have fun and have anything you'd want. I'd be here. Anything you'd want will be yours. Food, animals, gifts? Anything."

"I... Where is this coming from?"

Other Tae's face falls. "You can't stay flipping between two worlds all the time, Y/N. Eventually, you'll have to choose one."

"What do you mean?"

"It's the same deal that was provided for you ten years ago," he tells you. "Both you and Jimin."

"What'd Jimin pick?"

He shook his head. "I can't tell you that- I'm not allowed. Other Grandmother's got all the answers, and she'll tell you everything as long as you're willing to stay here with us. Be a family."

"Why does she want me so badly?"

"Because she fell for you as a child and wanted to keep you close to her. She hated when you left."

You tried to imagine what it'd be like to have your child ripped away from you when they were only eleven. You supposed you'd be desperate to keep them close if that were the case. "What about you, then? Why do you want me here?"

"It's because I lo-"

"Don't tell me you love me. Tell me something truly from you. Not something you're... programmed to say," you request. "Sometimes you feel so real, like him but... not. You look like him but you're someone else entirely. But I don't want you to just be someone who's perfect and made for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I need something that makes it feel like you're... human. Humans have wants, not just needs. They have selfish desires and feelings. You feel like that but then you repeat yourself like a broken record. I love you, I love you, I love you- but what else? What else do you feel other than love for me? Do you really want me with you or is that just what you're trained to feel? What you're destined to do? I don't want it to feel like you're "

He thinks for a moment. "I... I want you because... because you're real."

"Because I'm real?" You scoff. "You sound like the guys who go on about how down to Earth tomboys are."

"No, I mean you're actually real. Everything else was made for one thing and one thing only- to please you. They don't know anything outside the world created for them. These few acres of land. You, however, have seen the world, or at least far more than I have. You've met people with hopes and dreams. I don't even know if I have free will. I was made to love you, it's true, but that was because of my environment. If I lived somewhere else, I could've been crafted for another purpose."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean what we see is limited. Say a man lives on a mountain by a temple and was raised by monks to become just like that. Now imagine that same man lives in Colorado and instead chooses to grow weed. It's the same man, but the environment the man lives in determines what he wants and dreams. Both options are truly what he dreams of doing, but only because of the environment and how he was brought up. What he sees and dreams of is limited, and that's the same way for me. I've seen and lived in a world where the dream is to love you and have you. I do truly want that, but because that's how I was brought up, how I was made. In that sense, I have about as much free will as anyone in your world."

"I understand what you're saying," you nod, soaking in. "And it makes sense. You've got a point."

He holds your hand for a moment, cold and tight. "I do want you to stay here, though. Genuinely. You're real. You can tell me what it's really like out there, and I can tell you everything we did back in the day. We can be happy together. Could you see yourself loving me too?"

You thought for a moment, staring at him. "What about real Taehyung?"

"Is he the one you love?"

"I can't deny I feel nothing for him. He's..."

"Real," Other Taehyung finishes. "He's the real Taehyung."

"I'm sorry."

Other Tae lets go of your hand, letting it fall limply at your side. So badly you wanted fingers to intertwine with your own at that moment, a simple squeeze of forgiveness, but you knew that this wasn't something you could take back. He was right. Sure, this place was tangible, and you were confident it wasn't a dream. But it was too good to be true, and the good thing about the real world was that it was in fact, real. It had flaws, it had cracks, it had pain. This place was beautiful, but the longer you stay the more it felt like plastic surgery. A fake smile pulled back and forced because of how much botox was put in the cheeks.

He takes your face in his hands. "I'll prove to you I love you, though. Follow the cat."

You're unable to question him, his lips brought to yours. Your eyes go wide open at the feeling, the feeling of his lips against yours familiar. He feels so much like Taehyung. He kisses like him, too. But it's colder, without the real warmth of Taehyung. Taehyung was more so an angry sad, tears and frustration. Other Taehyung seemed to accept his fate, the kiss slow and measured, sad.

You kiss him back though, lips firm against his own, as though to apologize without words. 

And just like that, you were slipping back into the house, never to see him again.

-

"You said you'd give me answers," you say quietly, sitting in front of the Other Grandmother. "I'd like them now, please."

"Now, my sweet girl, I did say I'd tell you if you truly wish to hear it."

"I'm willing to do anything."

She raises a perfectly arched brow. "Anything?"

You look at her with determination, lips pressed together in a straight line, brows furrowed. "What's your condition?"

"Why, Other Taehyung already informed you! Sad you rejected him, though," she tuts. 

"How do you know about that?"

"I know everything here, dear. I made it," she smiles. "Now, you were asking about my condition?"

"Yes."

"I'll tell you everything you'd like to know. From what happened ten years ago, to Jimin's disappearance, to why you lost your memories," she guaranteed. "I'll tell you the entire truth about Jimin, in fact."

"What's the partial truth?"

The Other Grandmother's buttons glinted. "He's not dead, and he's here with us now."

You stood up, shock running through your system. Your heart stopped. "You're lying, aren't you? Park Jimin's dead."

She shook her head. "He is very much alive, my dear."

"What proof do you have?"

She smirks, as though expecting your reaction, having already prepared for it. She reaches under the table, pulling out two boxes. She pushes one forward, carefully analyzing your expression as you opened it. Inside were a younger boy's clothes, perhaps one of a preteen. A blue sweater and jeans, along with flashy sneakers.

"He doesn't fit those clothes anymore, of course. I like to keep it for sentimental purposes," the Other Grandmother explained. "I guarantee you they're his and not something I fashioned out of thin air. Your precious Taehyung would also be able to confirm it."

"So Jimin's here..." You couldn't believe it. You were flabbergasted by the mere thought. You closed the box, the clothes still inside, pressing it against your chest as though afraid it'd disappear from your hold.

"Ten years ago I asked him the same question I'm about to ask you. I can't tell you any more until you make your decision."

"What is it?"

She slides the other box to you, and you're quick to rip it apart, opening it. Staring back at you were two black buttons, with a needle and thread.

You look up at her, the serene smile greeting you in that same, amused way.

"Will you stay here with me?" 

You had a choice to make. 

Jimin or Taehyung?

The Other Grandmother interjects. "You made this decision ten years ago and decided to stay, but there were complications. The incident. You did decide to stay, though. I just figured it'd be polite to ask you again, to make sure."

This is what you wanted, wasn't it?

You even wanted this back then. You'd get all the answers. Jimin would inform you if he's really here. He'd tell you everything. You'd finally get to meet your other best friend, who undoubtedly chose to stay here. He had to be happier than Taehyung, who was wallowing in self misery. Taehyung didn't even want to see you. Every time you saw him there was just more pain. You were a burden that kept him from healing. There was a boy here who loved you, who was made to love you, a dream come true. He was nicer than Taehyung anyway and hung onto every word you said. It'd be best if you stayed here. For everyone.

"No."

She seems surprised, perfectly still for a moment. "No?" she finally says.

"No," you confirm. "I won't stay here. I can't."

"But it's perfect-"

"Exactly!" you fume. "This place is perfect, and that's what makes the real world so much better. It's real! It's got flaws, it has mistakes, it's not all as phony as here. There are real emotions and selfishness and everything in between! I'm not perfect, so I don't belong in a perfect place like this. So, no. I won't stay with you."

"What about the answers you were looking for?"

"I'm not willing to sacrifice the life I already have for one I don't remember living," you say.

"And Jimin?"

"He made his choice to stay here. That's his choice. But he hurt his family and Taehyung in the process. I don't want to do the same. I've hurt people enough already. It's about time I put in more consideration about how they feel," you say.

The Other Grandmother's mouth goes small, and she simply examines you for a moment. She sighs, "I was hoping it wouldn't come down to this. Seems like you'll be meeting the same fate as your little friend, then."

She snapped her fingers, and from every crevice and corner of the room emerge rats. Big, hairy rats with red buttons for eyes. You scream, getting out of your chair to scamper away, still clutching tightly to the box, the rats right on your heels. You run up the stairs, up up up to your room, crawling through the tunnel as fast as you can, clutching tightly to the box of clothes.

You feel one catch up, biting your ankle. You scream in pain, kicking it away as you scamper, the small entrance so close yet so far. You jump through, kicking the door shut and keeping your foot firmly planted against it, the door thumping as it attempted to break from its hinges. You grabbed the roll of tape from when you taped it before, putting layer upon later on it until every crack and edge was covered, making it impossible for the rats to push through.

It finally quietened down, and for once your house was completely silent, rats no longer roaming about the attic.

-

"Taehyung! Taehyung!" You had passed out for a few hours, the time you got out of the Other World already being a little past sunrise. By the time you woke up again, it was afternoon. You pound against his door, your hair matted and greasy with oil, pointing in every which direction. You were covered in scrapes and cuts, and the rat-bite fucked you up more than you care to admit. 

"Dear God, woman, have you ever considered letting the guy chase you for once? Seems like you're constantly at my door making demands," he huffs, swinging the door open. "You left me, last night, don't think I didn't notice. I'm not a one night stand kind of guy, but- holy shit, what happened to you?"

"Park Jimin is alive," you say quickly, cutting to the chase. You fumble with the box, opening it. "Are these his clothes? Back when we were eleven?"

"I..." He pulls out the sweater, examining it. "How'd you get this?"

"You won't believe me."

"This is the last thing I ever saw him in. This is what he was wearing the day he disappeared. The day of whatever incident made you lose your memory and lost him for good," Taehyung said. "How did you get this?"

You huff, tears springing your eyes at the confirmation. "Dear God, he's there. He's been there for ten years and-"

"Y/N, calm down! I need you to tell me everything! I mean it!" He brushes his hands over your arms, trying to calm you down. "I'm listening, I'm really listening. Does this... Does this have something to do with the Other World you keep blathering on about?"

You nod pathetically, continuing to sob. "I went. I'm sorry, but I had to go. It was my choice and I know you were against the idea, and they asked me to stay there. Forever. Like Jimin."

"Like Jimin?"

"Yes! Apparently, we had been given the same option ten years ago. I had said yes, and they expected the same this time. To stay there... you know how I told you about the button eyes? You've got to sew buttons into your eyes. They went on about how I'd be provided for, how I'd have Other Tae, and the cherry on top was that Jimin was there too. He had decided to stay in that world all this time, and he isn't dead. He really did just disappear, but not in the sense anyone else would've guessed."

"Wait, so what happened?"

"I said no!" You look up at him, wiping the tears from your face. "I said no because... because this world isn't perfect. Nothing here is, and that's what makes it better. You're here. I promised I wouldn't leave you again, and whatever decision Jimin made is separate from mine."

"What happened? Is that why you're so scruffed up?"

"She just snapped her fingers and I was chased down by rats." You point down to your leg, the rat-bite still evident. "I barely made it out in time."

"Holy shit, we need to get that treated!"

"Taehyung," you interrupt, raising his gaze from your leg to your face. "Do you believe me this time? After everything, do you believe me?"

"I..." He stared down at the sweater in his hand, clutching it tightly. "I think... I do."

You couldn't help but light up at that, a breath of relief as a metaphorical weight was lifted from your shoulders.

"Would you be willing to come with me there, then? Tonight?"

"What? Why? Why me? Shouldn't we stay as far as we can from it?"

"And leave Jimin there with that... that monster? Look what she did to me! My Other Grandmother tried so hard to manipulate me into staying with her, made everything perfect for me, told me she'd tell me the truth about everything with all the answers I'd need, and I didn't grab the bait. I don't trust Jimin with a woman like that. He's bound to have fucked up over the past ten years, especially since he started out at eleven. She made him sew buttons into his eyes! It's about time he came home."

"Y/N... This isn't some cruel prank you're playing on me, is it? It's not you just having delusions and finding some incredulous way to get the exact clothes on the exact day I never saw him again?"

"I've never lied to you, Taehyung. There are too many things that line up, too many coincidences."

You see him contemplating, staring you in the eye, as though waiting for you to confess it was a lie.

"Don't you want him back home?"

"I do! Of course, I do, it's just so much to process. I've believed he was dead for so long, and to find out the Other World that you two talked about when we were little is true. It's a lot to comprehend."

"We can't dawdle on this, Taehyung. The sooner we get him out the better. I'm not doing this for myself anymore. I don't need to find out my past to feel complete anymore- but you and I both know we have to get him out."

"What if he doesn't want to come home, though? He would've returned by now."

"She's a manipulator and liar. I don't doubt that the moment he took her deal she turned on him and made his life a living nightmare. He's probably unable to escape."

"And if we find out he truly doesn't want to?"

"Then... I guess we'll have to face the facts and lock the door for good." You look up tentatively at him. "Are you prepared to accept that fate?"

"I'd be happy to see him one more time. We all just need closure, right? One way or another we'll get it." He examined your injury, a nervous expression on his face. "But are you sure we should go? You're not in the best condition. What if it's worse this time? What if you don't get out?"

"We'll be prepared this time. Besides, I'll have you," you grin, though it doesn't last long. "I'm sorry I didn't do what you asked and left without saying anything. I thought I was moving past that but I guess old habits die hard."

"If we get Jimin back, all is forgiven. Now, let's bandage you up, get what we need, and go. Lord knows this reunion is long overdue."

-

Later that night, you were ready.

The two of you stared down at the little door, still taped tightly. You both had dressed in long sleeves and pants in an effort to make your skin less accessible to rats. Your injuries had been treated thoroughly already, and you kept your backpack close, with a flashlight, a knife, and bandages inside. By his side Taehyung held a baseball bat, wearing special gloves that would help his grip.

"Are you ready for this?" you question. "I wouldn't blame you if you decided to back out."

"I've spent too much time wallowing in self misery. Now that I have hope, I've got to grasp onto it." He holds his hand out, giving you a look of determination. "We're in this together, right?"

"We always were," you say, squeezing his hand. You take in a deep breath, beginning to rip off the tape until you were finally able to open the door. It slowly swung out, and for a moment you were suspecting only brick.

Instead, the dark tunnel laid before you.

"Holy shit..." Taehyung muttered under his breath. "I can't believe it."

"Let's go," you say, crawling through. You felt him behind you as the two of you went through, the tunnel pulsating and moving along with you, as though you were moving inside an intestine. It isn't until you're in the mirror version of your room that you're able to properly stand, feeling a bit less suffocated by the tunnel.

It looked the same, but something was... different. There was no magic in the air, and it was completely silent. Watching... Waiting...

"It really is a mirror of your room," Taehyung noticed. "Does that mean Jimin needed to go through your room to get here? Or did he have his own little door and tunnel?"

"I can't really tell you honestly," you say, brandishing your knife. "Let's go."

The two of you make your way downstairs, you taking the lead.

You were surprised to see Other Taehyung standing before you.

"Y/N!" he said. "You came back!"

"I can't talk right now, where's Jimin?" You show the knife, letting it glint in the light. "I don't want to use this. I need to get in and out. Is he here?"

Other Taehyung holds up his hands in surrender, shocked. "Yes, he's here, but-"

Taehyung follows shortly after you, stopping in his tracks. The two Taehyungs make eye contact, surprised to see each other.

"Is that... me?" Taehyung questions, frozen in place.

"So you brought him," Other Taehyung said quietly. "I was wondering when you'd get around to it."

"I know he's supposed to me and all, but I'm definitely hotter than he is," Taehyung whispers.

You shush him, keeping your attention on Other Taehyung. "Where's Jimin?" you repeat.

"He's here, in the house, but it's not what you thi-"

He's quickly cut off, gasping aloud as he sinks lower and onto his knees. Behind him, the Other Grandmother is revealed, a large pair of scissors in her hands. Down Other Taehyung's back is a large cut, sand pooling out, strings and threads beginning to unravel at the incision. Like your doll.

"Pity, I was rather proud of that one," the Other Grandmother tsked, staring down at the limp body at her feet with disappointment. "He was made to love you- a bit too much it seemed. He forgot his true, underlying purpose." She looks up, staring quizzically at Taehyung. "And I thought I made it clear this young gentleman was never welcome here."

You hold a protective arm out in front of Tae, glaring at the Other Grandmother. You hold the knife out in front of you. "Where's Jimin?"

"Now, why would I tell you something like that?"

Taehyung acts before you can say anything, swinging his bat to hit the Other Grandmother over the head, the scissors flying out of her hand as she hits the floor. He grabs them, spreads them apart, and digs the points on either side of her wrist, trapping her. He stepped on the other hand, grinding his foot down, pressing the fat end of his bat against her head to keep her on the floor. 

"Keep fucking around with us and I'll break every bone in your hands. Tell us where Jimin is!" He twists his foot, earning a particularly harsh yelp from the woman beneath him.

She let out a hiss, gritting her teeth. "Fine! I'll tell you..."

You clench your jaw. "Spill."

"Don't look so glum, darling. You're finally going to get what you want- the answers to what you've been asking yourself all these years."

"I'm listening."

"I'd have to start at the beginning, I suppose," she sighs. "Once, long ago, there were two miserable little kids, Jack and Jill, with souls as pure as their hearts. They were allowed to visit a world crafted just for them. They were miserable and pure, which made their souls ripe for the taking."

"Why wasn't Taehyung offered this paradise, then?" you question. "The year everything went down he was still the same age as us, and very miserable shortly after."

"The boy's soul wasn't as pure. It was tainted. He was a bit of an early bloomer," she explained, hissing.

Taehyung grunted in response. "Glad to know me jerking off at age eleven was enough to keep you away."

"As I was saying, one day Jack and Jill were offered the opportunity to stay there forever. They'd have everything they wanted, away from any worries. All they had to do was give their souls, by sewing buttons into their eyes. After all, the eyes are the windows to the soul."

That explained the buttons.

"Little Jill jumped at the opportunity, but Jack wasn't convinced. He refused and tried to drag little Jill out. This wasn't accepted of course, and in the midst of their escape, Jack, in turn, broke Jill's crown! She hit her head and he had to carry her all the way through the forest! Instead of a hill, however, Jill tumbled down, down, down a well. From the bump on her head or the shock of everything, she was unable to remember even poor Jack's sacrifice to save her from her selfish decision."

"And what happened to Jack?" you questioned.

She simply smirked. 

"He was caught and punished immediately. Even as a kid he was a bit of a pussy, as you kids would say."

"And where is he now? Tell me!"

"His soul was never taken, don't you worry. It must be given by choice, after all." She cackles. "In one way or another, he's gone. You should've stayed away while you could."

"WHERE IS HE?" You demanded. Upon your outburst Taehyung lifted the bat, bringing it down on the Other Grandmother's hand, an audible crack sounding throughout the room.

She screamed, moving her other hand despite the way the scissors cut her skin, snapping her fingers.

Panic filled you as you push Taehyung off, pulling him along. You heard the rats scamper about, hot on your heels once again, and your adrenaline surged through your veins. "Run, run, run!" you scream, the two of you stumbling up the stairs. Taehyung did his best, trying to bat away the rats behind you as you run to your room.

You kicked the door shut behind the two of you, going to the small door, finding it closed. You rattle the knob, trying to open it, but it won't budge.

"Why won't it open?" Taehyung questions, equally panicked.

"I don't know! It's locked!"

"Looking for this?" The Other Grandmother swings the door open, one of the rats crawling up her body to perch upon her shoulder, the key in its little paw. The Other Grandmother grabs it, dangling it in front of you.

"You handle the rats, I'll handle her!" you shout. You keep a firm grip onto your knife, despite the bit of perspiration you've already made. You swing it at her, watching as she dodged. Taehyung, meanwhile, did his best to swing the rats away, batting them and stepping on them as they attempted to crawl up his legs.

"This is for Taehyung!" You take a swing, growling the words out as she dodges. "This is for Jimin!" You reach with your other hand as well this time, aiming for the eyes, pulling out the buttons until all that was left in her eye sockets were string. "And this is for me!"

You finally hit something, and her frail hand is cut clean off, the key inside. You grab for the key, expecting the hand to leak out sand similar to the Other Taehyung. Instead, it bleeds, bone even showing at the stem. She was just as real as you were, it seemed.

"You little brat! After all I've done for you!" the Other Grandmother screams. "I'll kill you! I'll kill all three of you!"

Before you could make a move, the hand jumps up at its own accord, quick to begin crawling up your leg, the long nails digging into your skin. You try to shake it off, swatting at it and keeping the key firm in grip. 

You turn to the blind woman, sinking your blade into her heart, seeing more blood. You kept going, watching her sink down into her hoard of rats, still intent on attacking you from every which direction. You thought the hand would stop moving as well once you killed the source, but it continued, tangling itself in your hair as it tried to drag you to your demise.

"Quick, unlock it!" Taehyung says, having a few rats cling to his clothes already. He didn't have much time left.

"There's no time!" you tell Taehyung. "We've got to-"

You're interrupted by a loud meow and your attention is brought to Mochi, sitting on the windowsill.

Follow the cat.

As though reading your mind, Mochi jumps away, out of sight.

"Taehyung! The window! Jump out of the window!" you tell him, grabbing him and pushing him towards it.

"We're on the second floor!" he protests.

"Just do it! Follow the cat, I'll be right behind you!"

Taehyung does as he's told, disappearing from sight. You turn to the now limp Other Grandmother, finally grabbing hold of the wandering hand and throwing it back at her body. You kick away a few more rats, going to the windowsill before dropping yourself below, grabbing purchase of whatever you could along the way.

Thankfully it wasn't that big a jump, and the moment Tae caught you you let out a sigh of relief. That was until the rats began to jump from the window as well, clearly not intent on letting you go.

You see Mochi begin to scamper off into the woods.

"Follow the cat! Let's go!"

You two are hand in hand, running as fast as you can. You're limping now, one of the rats having caught you and keeping hold onto your leg with its jaw. You scream in agony, refusing to slow down, reaching into your backpack for your flashlight to keep track of the cat.

Mochi guides you until you're staring at the upcoming well.

"We have to jump into the well," you explain to Taehyung. "Jack and Jill, remember?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's another portal! That's how Jimin got me out the first time."

Mochi jumps up onto the edge of the well, taking one last look at the two of you before jumping in, only confirming your suspicions.

You and Tae jump up onto the edge, hand in hand as you turn to look at the hoard of rats, one pale hand riding on top of one.

You close your eyes and jump.

-

You weren't expecting to land on your ass, shooting up from the well and into the woods of the real world. You groan in pain, hissing out.

You jump up though, adrenaline still flowing through you as you find the strength to lift the cover of the well, covering up the top. Finally drained, you collapse on the floor.

"Taehyung?" you groan. "Are you there? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says, his voice just as strained. "God, let's get those bandages."

You toss your backpack his way, letting him rip off a strip before looking down at your leg that the rat had gotten hold of. Figured it'd be the same leg that had gotten bitten before. You take the role of bandages from Taehyung, ripping a strip from it to tightly wrap around the new bite mark.

There's silence between you two. An air you can't quite place. Disappointment? Sadness? Frustration?

"We didn't get Jimin," you say quietly.

"I know," he responds. 

"Can we ever go back?"

"I..." Taehyung seems to be unable to find a response. Both of you knew that you weren't any match for her. You had come prepared, and while you got answers to certain things, you weren't any closer to finding Jimin. But you almost died, and they'd be more prepared for your arrival than you'd be to attack them again.

Your eyes well up with tears. "We let him down, Taehyung. We lost Jimin. For good this time. And we were so, so close."

"I know."

You sit there, no longer moving, drowning in your feelings. What were you going to do now? You couldn't just give up on Jimin, could you? After all this effort?

"I don't think there's any need for you to go back."

The two of you simply stare in awe at the source of the sound. A handsome young man with long eyes and plump lips. He was a stranger in a sense, but completely familiar.

"Jimin...?" 

Jimin smiles, his pearly teeth showing. "It's good to see you guys again."

Taehyung looks at him in shock, wordless. Slowly getting to his feet, he approaches him, pressing his hand against Jimin's chest. "It's... It's you!"

"Ten years later and I'm still shorter than you, it seems."

Taehyung lets out a guffaw, something between a smile and a look of surprise, and soon enough he's wrapping his arms tightly around Jimin, holding him close to his body as though he were afraid he'd vanish. "Oh my God, you don't know how long I've waited for this moment."

Jimin hugged him tightly as well, burying his face in the crook of Taehyung's neck.

"I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. This is better than anything I could've imagined."

Everyone cries for a moment, and once the two boys break apart, you know it's your turn to properly unite with him.

You scamper to your feet, ignoring the pain as you limp into his arms, enveloping him in a tight hug. "Oh my God, it's- but- wait- how?!"

He pulls away from you, laughing. "When they caught me ten years ago, they refused to let me go, but I refused to sell my soul. As punishment the Baroness, her true title, by the way, turned me into a cat. I traveled in between worlds, though, but was unable to tell you guys what happened."

"Oh my God, you were Mochi? How are you human again, though?"

"You killed the Baroness- that was enough to undo her spell."

"So, that's it, we won?"

"No... You cut her hand off, so it acts on its own by her will. It's going to come back for that key. She's got enough magic in her pinky to redo everything she's done so that she can lure more kids in the future."

"We have to get rid of it, then!" you say, clutching tightly to it. "Or we destroy the hand! Either one."

"Ok, but how?" Taehyung questions. "For all we know it'll strangle us in our sleep."

"Don't worry guys, I've got a plan. I think I've planned for a thousand scenarios where we'd get into this situation- this isn't even the worst one," Jimin laughs. "Just follow along with my plan, ok?"

-

The three of you sit around the well, holding a picnic, a checkerboard cloth covering the top of it as you three dine.

Behind the tree a pale hand hides, its focus solely on the key that was placed in the center. Creeping forward, it needn't bother with the idle chat of the adults, catching up as they reminisce and fill the girl in on all their misadventures from their youth.

Finally, it pounces, landing perfectly in the middle to grasp the key. Before it knew it, however, you were letting the blanket go, grabbing it into a bundle, trapping it.

"Now, Taehyung!" 

Taehyung reaches for the bat he had hidden, repeatedly bashing it into the Baroness's hand as it wriggled around in the cloth. Continuously he hit it until there was no longer any movement, and the cloth was thoroughly soaked in blood.

You unraveled it, taking a look at it. The hand was beaten to a pulp, every bone broken beyond repair. You look over to Jimin. "Think it'll do?"

He nods, affirmative. "Toss it."

You gather it again once more, tossing it into the well, all three of you lifting the cover to seal it shut. The door in your room was already locked and taped up, meaning that all portals were now closed.

You sigh in relief. "Is it over? Like, really over now?"

"If it isn't I think I'm going to go crazy," Taehyung huffs, wiping his brow.

"You think you'll go crazy? I've been a cat for ten years!" Jimin argued.

"You made a very cute cat, Mochi," you joke, petting the top of his head. Jimin preened at the attention, grinning widely.

"Ugh, if you start purring I think I'll be sick," Taehyung grimaced.

"You're just jealous because for once she's paying attention to me instead of you!"

"No way!"

You couldn't help but laugh at the banter. It felt good to have them both at your side, and you had a feeling you would for many years to come. You looked forward to each one. These two boys, all of you had gone through so much together. Hell, it felt like just yesterday you and Taehyung were insulting each other in front of your grandparents. You thought he was just some edgy guy looking to suck the light out of everything, but he was more than that. He was human.

You looked forward to seeing the human sides of both men, letting them see the same. You knew at that moment you truly wanted nothing more, environment influenced or not, than to be with your two best friends.

Meanwhile, deep below, a single finger twitched.

[cordytriestowrite]

Catnapped!

Loki x Reader

One Shot

Summary: "CAT. YOU HAVE MY CAT."

Arms laden with groceries Loki barely spared a glance at his surroundings. After all, this was his yard, his house, his front door that he was currently struggling to unlock. Nothing should have changed since he ventured out to the store a little over an hour ago. 

Except something had changed. A quick glance up as he turned the knob and he found himself face to flat, printed face of someone very familiar. Black fur, wide green eyes, and a small notch in the right ear. Yes, that image was very familiar.

That was his cat.

The flyer labeled her as lost and that wasn't entirely incorrect. He hadn't seen her in about a week, but she always came back as if her absence had only a blip of her little cat life. Loki never worried.

Until now.

A flyer meant someone had taken her in and he would have to call the number below her picture to collect her. He would probably be reprimanded for not putting a collar on his pet. They might even heavily imply a right to a reward! Loki's arms burned, reminding him of his current task. He waited until after he had put away his groceries and fixed himself some dinner before plucking the flyer off his door and dialing the number.

The woman Loki spoke to on the phone was beyond frustrating. After five rings the call finally connected.

"Hello?"

He heard nothing and almost hung up, but a small croak kept the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Who is calling so late?"

Loki glanced at the stove clock. It was only seven eighteen. Still, he plastered on a wide smile and upped the charm.

"Apologies madam. My name is Loki and I believe you have my cat."

"Your hat? I'm sorry Lovely I don't have your hat."

The smile fell as irritation ignited within his full stomach. If she had left his cat damn well alone like everyone else in the neighborhood he wouldn't be having this needless conversation.

"CAT. YOU HAVE MY CAT."

It took far too long for Loki's liking but he finally wrangled two things out of the old woman. First, that she did in fact have his cat and second, the address at which his cat was currently being held. He was shouting into his receiver that he would be there to collect her in ten minutes and frankly he didn't care if she properly heard him or not. 

Fifteen houses down toward the cul-de-sac meant Loki had about three minutes to fume and seven minutes affix his air of casual charm. By the time he reached the small garden gate of the property he was practically indifferent to his circumstances. In and out and he would have his cat again. Simple enough.

The yard was surprisingly well-kept though the sheer amount of flamingos scattered about made Loki cringe. What was it about old women and plastic flamingos? 

Would it be too cruel to call the homeowners association on her? Loki decided he would hold off on making any final verdict after he had his animal safely back with him. The last thing he wanted was to start a war with another neighbor and this one was bound to be less fun than his feud with that frat boy Stark. 

He considered his usual knock, a soft but sure three raps of his knuckles, but based on his prior experience with the hard of hearing woman he gave into the satisfying base instinct to pound his fist against the door with enough force to make the glass within it rattle. It was a little less gratifying the second time around. He was about to give up, already halfway turned to walk away, when he heard the door open.

"Sorry, sorry, I was upstairs."

The voice was decidedly not one of an elderly woman. Loki turned, taking you in, making you shift as his gaze traveled from head to toe and back again. With a clearing of his throat Loki remembered himself and his polite grin came to his face a little easier.

"That's quite alright. I called earlier about my missing cat?"

You smirked and crossed your arms, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. It was your turn to run your gaze up and down his long body and if your lip got caught between your teeth, well you just couldn't help it.

"So you're Lovely huh? Odd name."

"It's Loki, actually."

"Even stranger."

Unlike most comments on his name this one did not make him bristle in defense. He quite liked the look in your eye and the way your face openly displayed the pleasure had within the conversation and with the company kept. It was never this easy when meeting new people or even with people he knew well for that matter.

"Well, you might as well come in. Midnight is around here somewhere and it'll take me a minute to find her."

You turned and walked further into your grandmother's house, leaving the door open for Loki to follow. Your eyes sweeped the living room quickly, looking for an unfamiliar mass of deep black fur.

"Midnight?"

Loki had closed the door behind him but not ventured further than the foyer. He took in the tacky decor of your grandmother's living room, a curl to his upper lip intensified with each furtive glance along the walls. Your grandmother really did love flamingos and it showed from the frame photographs to the flamingo printed pillows. 

"Well she didn't have a collar so how was I supposed to know what to call her." you said, pushing aside a basket of yarn and getting on your hands and knees to feel for her under the couch.

"Her name is Lokitty. Not that she answers to it."

Your head shot up and turned around to show your guest your incredulous expression, though it took a very long second for his eyes to move from your upturned ass to your face.

"So your name is Loki and hers is Lokitty?"

He had the sense to at least look self-conscious, a slight drop in eye contact and a hint of color in his high cheekbones.

"The Parker kid named her."

"Peter Parker? Who is in Ms. Potts' second grade class and knows all of Jupiter's moons and would I like to hear them? I get it now. Hard to say no to him."

An odd sensation of relief warmed in Loki's stomach while a teasing tingle sent some heat down just below watching you move across the floor on your hands and knees to check under something else. He silently hoped Lokitty was well hidden.

Eventually you came up from the floor empty handed, but there were still plenty of rooms to check. You gestured for Loki to follow you further into the house, popping your head into the kitchen you didn't spot the black cat on top of the sickly pink cabinets or counters. 

"I wasn't aware they made counters in that color." Loki commented, his head popping in just over yours. You could feel the edges of his jacket brush against your back and since he couldn't get a good look at your face you allowed yourself to feel a giddy fever rise from your stomach to your face. 

"I think she special ordered it in the seventies. It's looked like this for as long as I can remember."

You moved beyond the kitchen into the dining room, Loki following without prompt this time. 

"Do you live here too?"

You shook your head before turning your attention to the other presence in the dining room, the topic of your conversation.

"Hi grandma!"

Your voice was loud and a little overzealous, but your grandmother lifted her head and offered you a wide, toothless smile. Loki had thought she was asleep before and was even further astounded that the woman was not only conscious but simply sitting at the table with nothing in front of her. 

"Grandma this is Loki. He's here for his cat."

You spoke each word loud and clear, watching your grandma smack her lips together and squint in Loki's direction.

"Tell Lovely I don't have his hat."

Loki opened his mouth, ready to set the old bat straight once again, but the hand on his arm stopped him. You guided Loki back down the hall and up the stairs.

"She can't hear for shit. Better to just nod and smile. Anyway, Midnight is probably up here."

"Lokitty." Loki corrected, winking when you turned to look at him and you let him catch your eye roll.

The wall decor was just as garish upstairs as down, if not moreso, but one room was literally a sight for Loki's sore eyes. 

"Could she be in there?" Loki asked coolly, already moving as he's drawn in toward the dark blue walls.

"A woman's bedroom is private you know." 

Your joking tone made Loki feel emboldened enough to walk confidently inside.

It was like a breath of fresh air, literally since the room was perfumed by a lit scented candle to mask the stale scent flowing through the rest of the house, but along with the dark walls were bits of modern furniture and technology. It was like someone took this room from an entirely different house and put it in this one. 

"The first thing I did was paint the walls. I couldn't sleep. It's like the pink permeated my eyelids." You were already on your hands and knees searching in the space between your desk and dresser. Loki practically felt his way to your bed, not wanting to miss the way you moved this way and that, so cat-like yourself. 

"Staying long then?" Loki heard himself stay.

"My family is concerned about her, but not enough to come check themselves. They want me to decide if we should put her in a home. I'm dragging my feet on making that decision."

Loki nodded, hand running absently along the soft spine of the purring form nestled onto his lap. He had just been then a few years ago, making the choice to put his father in a home while his brother was unreachable on an expedition halfway across the world. He often wondered if he made the right call. 

When he didn't respond you pushed back onto your knees and went to meet his eye, but before your gaze could travel that far up it landed on the creature occupying his lap.

"Midnight! You found her!"

Loki blinked, his brain finally registering what his hand had been stroking the last few minutes. Lokitty purred deeply when he gave her a scratch behind the ears. 

"That I did, but you found her first."

You came to sit next to him on your bed, hand reaching out to give the lounging feline some attention which she gobbled up greedily.

"I can't take any credit for that. My grandmother was the one who left the back door open and her tuna fish sandwich on the table."

His deep chuckle was just as attractive as the rest of him, and you opted out of any mention of departure while you sat in comfortable silence only disrupted by a low purr. It was nice just sitting around with someone who wasn't family.

"Do I owe you anything?"

Brows furrowed Loki glared solemnly down into the big, green eyes of his four-legged companion. His brain had practically stalled out watching your hand move along Lokitty, stroking in long languid swoops that made his body feel too warm. The question had spilled out, a knee-jerk reaction, and now he was internally cursing himself for such a stupid outburst.

You pulled your hands back to yourself, bringing one to tap your chin as you playfully thought about his question.

"Dinner?"

"Y-yes, of course." Loki managed to say as he forced all his energy into withholding a wide smile.

You turned on the bed toward him, hand reaching for his over Lokitty's soft, sleeping form.

"Great. My grandma hasn't had a date in ages!"

You laughed so hard at Loki's stunned expression Lokitty startled awake and all but lunged off his lap before returning to the signature feline slink as she exited the room. 

"You can just keep the cat." Loki joked, making to stand up and leave the room. You stiffled your laughter into effusive giggles, tugging on your still joined hands to keep him from getting too far.

"Okay, okay. You get your cat and I get dinner with you. Sound good?"

Loki released your hand and for a second your heart stuttered with disappointing rejection, but that hand reached up and held your chin tenderly, forcing you to look into the depths of his blue eyes and surrender the air from your lungs as nerves filled the deflated organs. 

"Sounds perfect." He said, low and deep while looking unabashedly down to your lips. They didn't stay there long as he met your gaze again with bright eyes and an even brighter smile.

"Mrow?"

You both turned to find Lokitty half in the room, staring wide-eyed and curiously between you. Loki's hand dropped from your chin and this time you let him get up. He crossed the room and scooped up a now protesting Lokitty, locking her limbs into the crook of his elbow so she wouldn't slither away. You squeezed past the pair to lead Loki back out, wondering if a cat scratch to the chest was worth trying to get the kiss you had hoped was coming before the interruption. Halfway down the stairs you ran into your grandmother, her shaky hand gripping the railing for support. She looked up as the two of you got closer.

"Oh Lovely is that your pussycat? I had my granddaughter here make some flyers."

You ease yourself and Loki past her to the door, but Loki's mood could not be deterred by your grandmother's words.

"Yes madam, thank you. Have a good evening." He said in his normal tone, minus the usually dishonest lilt of interest. You watched her continue up the stairs one foot at a time, a flicker of worry kept your eyes on her rather than the handsome man before you.

"You'll make the right decision." Loki assured you through a mouthful of cat fur. Lokitty did not have a penchant for being held and her patience was wearing thin.

Your lips quirked upward half-heartedly as your grandmother finally disappeared into her room. Ignoring Loki's eye you opened the door and stepped aside to let him through. The bright light in Loki faded slightly as the heaviness of age overshadowed the excitement of young romance and while he wanted to ignore one in favor of the other he knew he couldn't and neither could you.

"So, tomorrow? Let's say seven?"

You had finally found your voice as Loki was halfway between the door and the gate. He turned around and you mimicked your stance when you first laid eyes on him, arms crossed leaning against the doorframe, your lip once again caught between your teeth to hide your teasing grin.

"Tomorrow at seven." He agreed with a nod.

And it was just enough of a distraction for Lokitty to throw him off balance. Falling and landing gracefully she took off in a full sprint, squeezing between the gaps in the fence and down the street.

"Oh my god!" You exclaimed, abandoning your post and hurrying across the property to chase after her. Loki managed to catch your arm before you got to the gate.

"Let her go. She'll find her way home. Always does."

She was out of sight, it would be a lost cause to follow a black cat out into the night. You looked to Loki, feeding off his certainty. He was so open, so expressive, and yet there was still so much to learn of him, and you wanted to start filling in the blanks right now.

"Well since you don't have to bring your cat home why don't we move tomorrow's dinner up to right now?"

"I already ate dinner." Loki admitted giving you a slight frown.

"Me too." You confessed and the heavy implications tied to the divulgence didn't go unnoticed on either side. 

"Cool."

"Cool."

"I'm going to just lock up."

"I'll be here."

"I can't be gone long. My grandma-"

"I understand."

And you could tell he really did understand. And you could tell he had been waiting for the kiss as much as you had, gripping your waist tightly as you pulled his head down to meet yours. 

Later when Loki was unlocking his front door, he felt a slide of pressure against his shins, twisting in and out of the space between them.

"I guess I should be thanking you." He chuckled, staring fondly down at the mass of black fur and two emerald green eyes. She lifted up onto her back paws, stretching long and languid and digging her claws into his skin, making him flinch.

"Or maybe it would just go to your head." He muttered, ushering her inside.

First thing tomorrow morning he was ordering her a collar.

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[beni-draw-ikemen-please]

EYES NOSE LIPS CH 6

EYES NOSE LIPS CHAPTER 6 - DON’T

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR X FEMALE PREFECT

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,344

You can read the previous Chapters below:

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

EYES NOSE LIPS CHAPTER 6 - DON’T

Leona didn’t have the mental capacity or patience to attend afternoon flying lessons. Quite frankly, he didn’t really feel like participating in anything. His feet dragged him over towards the library after lunch that day. It’s been a while since he did. It used to be his favourite napping place. It’s dim, it’s quiet and not many people visit the dusty library. 

Leona entered and sighed in relief to see the front desk empty. He could just walk in and sleep by the shelves. The rich violet carpets complemented the warm hues of maple shelves. The smell of old and paper lingered. Streaks of sunlight passing through small windows on high ceilings, bits of stained glass carefully illuminated the dusty particles that flew around the air. They looked magical, in a way. Like stardust. Flying books here and there, and not a single person in sight. Leona walked around, looking at the section numbers whilst thinking of the least frequently visited aisle when he heard a voice. 

He clicked his tongue in frustration. Some nerd was occupying his aisle. He was just about to leave but when he took a peek to see if he could scare them off, he was surprised to see her. 

The prefect towered over him through a ladder. She looked like she was reaching for something - something old and dusty and high, very high up the shelves. 

“Oi--”

Leona called out to her to warn her of flying books.

 Of course. 

She smiled, “I got it! This is the one!” barely noticing him. 

Asami managed to reach the book that was just about to fly off from her fingertips and in one instant motion,  just as she reached a little bit further, the ladder tipped to the side slamming her face towards Leona who was looking up to her.  

“Fuck--” Leona groaned as he felt the impact of her fall on his forehead. Thank the great seven, he caught her. Asami tried to stand, pushing herself languidly from his chest, unknowingly pressing her knee down his tail. 

“FUCK!!! My taaaill!!!!” 

Asami squealed and moved away from him, whispering ‘I’m sorry’ five times before looking up to him. 

“I’m so sorry, Leona-san” her nose was bleeding and Leona could hear himself click his tongue again. This girl is hopeless. 

He pulled her closer and wiped the blood dripping down her nose with his white sleeve. 

“What the fuck were you doing?” Leona rubbed his forehead, and slowly stood up. 

“I’m sorry— I was reaching for…” Asami looked around and exclaimed in satisfaction when she found her precious title just next to her leg. Leona couldn’t help but sigh, his head still throbbing. 

This girl is hopeless.  He thought to himself as he dusted his pants off. 

“Can you stand?” Leona offered his hand and Asam’s eyes finally settled on him; cheeks slowly turning a soft pink hue. It had been days since she last saw him. 

What was he doing here? 

Why is he here during this time? 

He never visited the library before. 

She knows, because she’s here every single day. 

She couldn’t answer. She could feel a sharp pain on her ankle. And she didn't want to inconvenience him right after she fell and slammed herself onto Leona Kingscholar himself. 

“I’m okay.” she lowers her head, not moving. Her head dipping lower, shoulders seemingly trying to hide herself once more. Leona looked around, there was no one. Then, his eyes trailed to her. He felt his eye roll, but as he ran his gloved hand through his hair with a deep and heavy sigh, he reached out to her and picked her up in his arms. 

Asami found herself holding onto his neck trying her best not to weigh Leona down. Head low, her fringe hiding most of her face and cheeks hotter than ever. She didn’t say anything, he clicked his tongue again, this time, Asami couldn’t really sense real irritation from him. 

She whispered an apology again as she held onto him tighter. 

“Is your tail okay?” she asked, her head ducked low in hopes to hide her already embarrassed and red face. 

“It’s fine. And don’t ask me that question again.” He walked slow- heavy and deliberate strides out of the library and into the hallways of Night Raven. The odd pair earning confused looks and murmurs as they walked towards the infirmary. 

She wasn’t that heavy, Leona thought to himself. Her shoulders felt like they were trembling, and she hid herself on the side of his neck. Leona didn’t mind but he was curious what kind of face she made as he carried her like that. Leona set her down atop one of the beds. 

He couldn't really see how bad the swelling was because she wore tights, but he guessed she probably twisted it pretty bad if she wasn't able to stand on her own. 

The school nurse was never around but he was quite familiar with the place. 

He napped there quite often too. Asami was quiet as she watched him move around the space. Her face painted a picture of worry and guilt and that made Leona’s insides squirm. Her blush was unsettling. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was around or if it was because she was hurting so much. 

He opened the mini fridge and got a crystal bottle filled with what looked like lavender-infused water with pink and yellow stones and handed it to her. 

“It’s a calming potion. And it helps with some degree of pain.” Asami took the bottle and thanked him. Leona crouched down and pressed an ice pack on her ankle. His hand gripping her leg softly. 

It had been days since he saw her, and he was glad to be right there at that exact moment. Leona couldn’t tell how bad the swelling was, but he hoped the ice pack and him being there, provided some comfort to Asami. She was quiet, he kind of realised she wasn’t the chatty kind -- and he liked that about her. Her eyes watched him intently and carefully, like always. The red on her cheeks never fading. 

For a moment, Leona acknowledged that he was looking at her, as she was. Eyes of summer green seemingly savouring the very sight of her. 

It’s been a while, he thought to himself. Though he was careful not to say it out loud. 

“I’m sorry…” She finally spoke. Voice slightly husked and small, just like how it was during the morning they spent together. Leona’s eyes stayed on hers, and she looked like she was about to cry. Carnelian pools that looked like they were searching for something - something in him. 

What it was, he could never discern. 

Maybe, because he too was searching for something in hers. 

“Does it hurt? Can you walk back to your dorm?” His voice was gentler now. Affectionate, even. And he didn’t notice it but she did. His usual grumbles and eye rolling paused. And he seemed like a completely different person towards her. And she was confused for a bit, but Asami somehow convinced herself that it was okay to imagine Leona Kingscholar being affectionate towards her. She liked the idea that she was witness to this side of him. An unknown side, maybe even to himself. 

“It hurts but… I think I can manage.” She didn’t want the spell to be broken, but she felt responsible and she needed to snap back to reality. 

“I can just….” Asami’s eyes locked with his and her mouth stopped moving. His hand, firmly on her ankle. His long, dark hair, as messy and wild as she remembers it— the way the setting sun touched the dark strands of his hair softly, and how the shadows of his fringe highlighted the bright green of his eyes— he looked so beautiful to her in that afternoon light.

“It’s great to see you, dorm leader…” She smiled softly at him. 

For a moment, they’d forgotten why they were there. Why there was an ice pack involved and why he wasn’t napping. Leona Kingscholar couldn’t take her honesty and was forced to look away. Hoping his mane would hide some of the hesitation and confusion in his face. She looked very satisfied with her statement, albeit the red of her face. 

*****

Asami held on to his shoulders. Trying her best not to weigh him down. How? She tried. She could only imagine. But he was not being himself. It felt like a day out of a picture book. So maybe, just maybe, it was okay for her not to be her self. 

Leona Kingscholar didn’t think the Ramshackle dorm would be like this. 

It looked old and felt old. It smelled like his grandmother’s closet. 

It was cold there, and the hallways were small and narrow compared to Savanaclaw. 

Asami’s room was small, at least to him, it felt small. She had a big window by her bed, and her own bathroom across it. She had a small dresser and an easel by her bed. It was decent. Not much. A typical dorm, he’d say. Not that he knew what a typical dorm looked like, but if he would imagine, it would look like this. 

The room, however, smelled like her. And somehow, he felt at home there. Like he never wanted to leave. Leona made it a point not to look at her directly as he carried her like that. 

And as he gently settled her on top of the bed, he felt a pang on his chest as he forced himself away from her once more. 

There were tea canisters by a small table by the window. And some books. A milk bottle with some dried baby’s breath. That was the sign that gave it away. He was inside a girl’s room now. 

His eyes — sharp and focused — watched her and her shoulders slightly lifted as she looked around her room. 

“It’s weird to have other people here…” the red on her cheek was just as intense as earlier. And soon he realised that he was in her room, alone, with her. 

“Can’t be helped. Or would you rather sleep in the infirmary?”  the room smelled of her. And it felt warm even though it was significantly colder there compared to Savanaclaw. It was a weird feeling, especially to him. His eyes never left hers. His voice sounded more comfortable this time. The irritation seemed to have dissipated. Was it her fault? He would never admit it, but maybe, just maybe, yes. It was because of her. 

“Does it still hurt?” his voice was gentle as he moved closer to her, unconsciously reaching for her hand.

“I’ll have to check…” Asami tried to stand up but her strength failed her. Leona helped her up and held her close. For a moment, he stayed there. The scent of her hair— hints of vanilla, the smell of cloth, the smell of old books stayed around her blazer, traces of lavender near her cheek and neck, just like how he remembered — was familiar, and tantalising. 

Why do you smell so good? 

But he had to look away when he realised that she was trying to pull down her stockings. She didn’t look like she was aware of the situation, so he tried to lock the questions he had for her, maybe for another time. 

He helped her sit back down again, and as she rolled down her stockings, he let himself sit on the carpeted floor so he could check how bad the swelling actually was. 

The ice didn’t help much, no. 

No wonder she couldn’t stand on her own. 

Leona’s hand gently traced the small of her ankle, and as Asami drew in a sharp breath, Leona quickly realised that she was sitting on the bed, wearing a skirt, without stockings and he was on the floor, at a vantage point so clearly unintentional but dangerous. Leona Kingscholar cleared his throat and stood abruptly. 

“You should rest. And Ice” he could barely look at her. It didn't look like she noticed. But it was harder to breathe now, and it felt like his senses were being drowned by her. The way her eyes focused on him, as he stood there, made the longing, wanting and owning more apparent, more urgent. 

“Yes of course. Thank you for your help,  Leona-san” the way his name sounded with her voice, he liked that. He loved it. Up until recently, she called him senpai or dorm leader. He didn’t think his own name would sound so delicate, so sweet. Only when she said it. Only in that moment. 

“I’ll have Ruggie bring you stuff.” He turned to leave, but he walked slowly, he felt her eyes on him. And it made it hard for him to leave. 

Why? 

Why was being around her like this?

Leona wanted to leave her room. He wanted to go back to Savanaclaw, back to his room, back to his world, back to when he didn’t think about her, back to the time when he didn’t know about her. 

Back to the time when he wasn’t hoping to see her. Back to the time when he wasn’t always thinking about some girl. 

Right. She’s just some girl. Why was she making him feel like this? It was absurd, he thought. It was hilarious — even comical, how he was hoping to stay in that small room. Just to be around her. Just to be in her presence. This world he knew of — the world that was just her. 

When was the last time he was this close to someone? 

Someone other than Ruggie? 

Someone other than family? 

He brushed the questions off and threw them out the window. Along with reason, and other important things he couldn’t list at that moment because he was too busy breathing her scent in. Enjoying the bits of her as he walked slowly out of her room. 

“Seriously. Take care of yourself.” Leona turned to leave. 

To be continued.

Also tagging @ohno-otome o(≧▽≦)o

[that-little-bisexual-mess]

HPHM MC Fanfiction: ‘Ada’s Adventures Series’. Part 1 : September 1st, 1984. Chapter 1 : The departure.

[So, guys, this is it. I’m finally jumping into the other side of the Fanfiction World. Always a reader, now a new writer. I’m beginning this hopefully amazing journey with a first little story about Ada’s first day at Hogwarts (For the people who don’t know Ada, here is the link to her profile template : here. And here is a link to her mother’s profile template, who is important in this chapter : here).This first part of ‘Ada’s Adventures Series’ is going to retrace this very important day in Ada’s life. And the first chapter of this first part is focusing on the moment between she wakes up and the moment she goes on the Hogwarts Express. Over the last few weeks I started to developp a lot about Ada’s full story and her family history and all that. So, writing fanfictions about her felt like the next natural step. I’m also planning to write about other members of her family. I can’t wait for you to read it, if you like that kind of stuff. Little notes tho : I’m a baby writer, so it might not be very good. If you have any advice, can you please tell me what is good and what is not so I can improve myself? Also, English is not my native language, so, if you see any mistakes, sorry about that (I’m french, and btw there are tiny little french stuff in this fic, I wanted to add some French heritage, in the language mostly, since Ada’s has French blood on her mother’s side and her mother, her brother, Jacob, and herself are fluent in french. So I hope it’s a good little addition). ANYWAY, without further ado, here is my very first written piece. I hope you’ll enjoy it!]

[Keep reading under the cut]

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Ada Shelby, eleven years old, opened her eyes on September 1st, 1984. It took her a few minutes to remember what day it was and how important that day was. The evening before, she had had trouble finding some sleep because of how excited she was. After these few minutes during which her brain struggled to fight the lack of good sleep, she finally remembered that today, she was supposed to get on a very special train that will take her to the start of her new life. Her excitement grew again, and she jumped on her feet. She put her glasses on and looked at the clock on the wall facing her bed. 8:15 am. In less than three hours, she would be on the Hogwarts Express. Something she’s been waiting for years. She heard a knock on her door and her mother came in. Miranda Shelby was a very beautiful woman. Her blue eyes were filled with kindness and love. Her brown hair, which normally reached her shoulders, was tied in a ponytail, freeing her beautiful face from flyaways. Her warm smile, that always put joy in people’s hearts, was one of the warmest Ada ever saw. She was radiant. When she saw her daughter awake, she said:

“Good morning honey!”

“Good morning”

“Sooo? Are you excited about today?”

“Of course, I am! I already packed everything, look!” said Ada, pointing at her giant suitcase containing all of her robes and school furniture.

On top of it, an empty cage was waiting to welcome Ada’s new owl: a beautiful barn owl that she had named Merlot. She had decided to name it after the owl her maternal grandmother had once, when she was still alive. It was the owl the late French lady always used whenever she was writing to her daughter, Jacob, or Ada. The new Merlot was currently perched on the dresser next to Ada’s bed, her eyes closed.  

“I finished to pack everything last night, before going to bed” continued Ada.

“Good! You’re much more prepared that I was when I first went to Hogwarts”

“Were you nervous?” asked Ada.

“A little. Mostly because I didn’t really know what to expect since Mamie went to Beauxbâtons. She talked to me a lot about it, she loved her time there. But you’ll see, Hogwarts is just as great!”

Ada nodded but didn’t say anything. She was excited to go to Hogwarts, but she was also very nervous, for multiple reasons. The first and obvious one was the unknown of a new start. The second was the reputation her brother must have left to the Shelby name. Ada didn’t understand everything that had happened, but she knew the boy had been involved in some dark stuff and had been expelled from Hogwarts with his wand being officially broken by the Ministry of Magic. And now, he was missing. Ada knew her brother and she knew he would never be involved with Dark Magic by conviction. If he did, she was sure it was because he didn’t have a choice. But the other kids didn’t know Jacob like she did, and she was afraid she would get insulted by other students or hear students insulting her brother or even her mother. She didn’t know how she would handle that. Finally, he third reason of her nervousness was that she would leave her mother all alone. Her father was killed 3 years earlier and with Jacob now missing, Miranda will have to live alone for most of the school year.

“You’re sure you’re ok, Mon Ange?” asked Miranda, replacing a wild hair behind her daughter’s ear, suddenly worried to see her daughter lost in her thoughts.

“Yeah! Yeah, just a little nervous that’s all.”

Ada felt a little guilty to lie to her mother like that, but she didn’t want her to worry even more than now.

“Everything is going to be ok. You’ll see, you’ll have a great year. Actually, you’ll have seven great years!”

Ada smiled and nodded.

“Alright, we finish to get ready and we go downstairs to eat something before we go?”

“Yes!” said Ada, her excitement going up again.

Miranda smiled again before kissing her daughter’s forehead and left the room. Ada started took a shower and dressed herself. Half an hour later, she was ready. Before going out, she looked in the mirror and saw her reflection. Just like her mother’s, her brown hair reached her shoulders. Her maternal grandmother, Margot, always said that she was a spitting image of Miranda when she was young. After seeing a few pictures, Ada happily admitted that it was indeed the case. Her green eyes however, she had them from her paternal grandfather Anthony, something she was quite proud of too. She smiled a little and after checking that everything was in order, Ada started to go out of the room.

Miranda had decided that it would be better to sleep at the Leaky Cauldron in London to be closer to the King’s Cross station. Once they were both ready, they went downstairs and began to eat breakfast. For a few minutes, Ada looked at the other wizard present in the room while eating a buttered toast. Then Miranda asked:

“Do you know in which house you want to be?”

“I don’t really know. Every house has good qualities, and I personally know at least one amazing person that went to each house. You were a Ravenclaw, Ted was a Hufflepuff, Andy was a Slytherin, and Dad and Jacob were…” Ada stopped, suddenly worried to have upset her mother.

But Miranda smiled at her and completed:

“Dad and Jacob were in Gryffindor.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright without me, Mom?” Asked Ada before she could stop herself.

“Of course, I will be!” she said, stroking Ada’s cheek. “Now, let’s finish breakfast”

Ada knew her mother was not completely honest, but she decided to let it go.

They finished breakfast and went to their rooms to get their stuffs. Tom, the pub manager, helped Ada with her suitcase in the stairs. After thanking him, the mother and the daughter took the bus to go the train station. It was 10:30 am when they arrived. They still had thirty minutes to go on the 9 ¾ platform, which was plenty of time to exchange plenty of goodbyes before separating. Once they were on the platform, Ada’s excitement was at its peak. It was not her first time here, since she always came to say goodbye to her brother for his departures. But this time it was for her. She was the one to go to Hogwarts. A little bit of sadness started to reach her though, as she always thought Jacob would be here for her first departure to Hogwarts. She was also sad that her father wasn’t here like he was for Jacob. The tears were starting to fill her eyes when she suddenly felt a huge shock on her right side that almost made her fell on the floor. In her left hand, he could feel Merlot’s cage moving from the owl’s protestation to this shock. For a split second, she thought a student had hit her by accident, but then she heard a familiar laugh in her hear that made her realize it wasn’t an accident at all. Nymphadora Tonks was hugging her.

“ADA! We’re finally going, it’s today, we’re going to Hogwarts” said the young witch.

Ada laughed at her best friend’s excitement. They had known each other since they were babies and were best friends. The two were basically inseparable. Their families didn’t live too far from each other and it wasn’t rare at all to see the Tonks at the Shelby’s house or the Shelby at the Tonks’ house. Indeed, Nymphadora’s mother, Andromeda, was Miranda’s best friend since Hogwarts. When Ada was born, Miranda and her husband, Luke, designated Andromeda to be their daughter’s Godmother. A few months later Andromeda and Ted Tonks designated Miranda to be Nymphadora’s Godmother.

After a few second, Ada and Nymphadora finally broke their hug. Nymphadora’s excitement was all over her face. She had one of the biggest smile Ada’s ever seen on her. Her eyes were sparkling with happiness and her hair, that she had decided to turn purple for the day, was moving from the little jumps of excitement the girl was doing. A sight at her face made Ada’s sadness disappear. This kind of joy was communicative. Soon, Ada was wearing the exact same smile.

“Tonight, we will finally be at Hogwarts, can you imagine that?” Continued Nymphadora.

“This is amazing! So, you have everything on you? You didn’t forget anything?” Asked Ada.

“Oh come on Ada, I thought you knew Dora by now! She almost forgot her wand this morning, we almost left without it…” Said a male voice.

Ada turned her head and saw Ted and Andromeda Tonks walking between excited students towards them.

“Seriously?” Laughed Ada.

“Argh, details” Shrugged Nymphadora.

Ada laughed one more time and turned to properly face the Tonks. Ted, tall with kind hazel eyes, smiled and high-fived her. Andromeda, tall too, with the elegance and grey eyes she inherited from her birth family and the warm smile and gaze she inherited from herself, opened her arms to welcome her Goddaughter in them in a quick hug while saying:

“Hello Ada. Ready for school too?”

“Hi Ted, Andy. Yeah, I can’t wait to be there!”

“I can only imagine.” said Ted “Dora too, obviously. I don’t think she even slept last night.”

“Not very much, to be honest.” Responded Dora, who was hugging Miranda.

“Yeah me neither.” Said Ada.

“OH, you have an owl too!” said Dora, spotting the barn owl, now wisely placed in her cage again, though staring at Dora with mistrust.

“Yeah, her name is Merlot, just like my Grandmother’s old owl. Mom bought it for me yesterday.”

“She’s beautiful! I named mine Horton.”

Ada smiled and looked at the little black owl somehow sleeping in her cage, that Ted holding. How could the owl sleep with all the noises present on the platform?

They heard a whistle and the students present on the platform began to say goodbye to their parents and to enter into the train. With the help of their parents, the two girls dragged their suitcases on the train. Ada placed Merlot’s cage on hers and went back on the platform.

While Dora was hugging her parents, Ada turned to her mother with a smile.

“So, this is it Mon Ange” said Miranda, softly stroking Ada’s hair, with a smile that was a little bit sad. Ada started to get a bit worried about her mother again. “Just send me Merlot tomorrow morning to tell me everything about tonight, alright?”

“Will do” Smiled Ada.

She hugged her mother. She wanted to ask her one more time if she was going to be ok, if her leaving was going to cause too much harm. But she didn’t ask. She knew her mother was strong. She had to believe in that. It would be better for both of them.

They finally broke the hug and Miranda kissed her daughter on the forehead.

“Don’t let Dora drag you into too much trouble. She likes pranks a little bit much.” She said.

“HEY!” Protested Dora from behind Ada.

“You know I’m joking! Come and say goodbye, you little troublemaker.”

Ada faced Ted and Andromeda to hug them too.

“Don’t drag our Dora in your pranks, please. We know it’s actually YOU the real troublemaker here!” said Ted.

“Ted! That was supposed to be a secret!” Laughed Ada.

He laughed in return while Ada was hugging Andromeda. The latter whispered to her:

“I know you’re worried about your mother. I’m going to keep an eye on her, don’t worry.”

Andromeda always knew how to read her mind, somehow. She always knew what Ada was feeling or thinking. It was one of the things Ada loved the most about her Godmother. In addition of that, the woman always knew how to talk to her or what to do whenever Ada wasn’t feeling fine. This had led to a lot of heart-to-heart conversations and a strong connection had grown more and more over the years between the two of them. By talking about it to Dora, she knew her best friend and her own Godmother, Miranda, shared the same kind of connection.

After a few seconds, Ada stepped back a little.

“Goodbye Andy!” she said, trying to put in her smile all of the gratitude she was feeling towards her at the moment.

“Have a great year, Love”

With Dora, she went on the train and they both stood at a window to wave at their parents, while the train started to move. Once the train turned at the first turn, and the platform was out of sight, Ada turned to Dora:

“We’re going to Hogwarts!” she said with excitement.

“We’re going to Hogwarts.” repeated the young purple-haired witch.

The two had spent days and days talking about their future school. Most of the time, they were having the same conversation over and over, but they didn’t care. It was something they would share together, and it was the only thing that mattered.

“Come on, let’s find a compartment!” said Dora.

“Yes!”

Ada followed her best friend, most of nervousness starting to leave her. She trusted Andromeda Tonks completely and she knew that if someone could keep an eye on Miranda, it would be her. The relationship between the two mothers wasn’t too much different from the relationship Ada had with Dora. Knowing that her mother was in good hands and knowing that Miranda was a really strong woman, she started to debate with Dora on which house would more suit them while they were searching for a place to sit.

(To be continued...)

[highkey-lowkey-as-hell]

if you want to write it, a meet the parents fic but it’s kateva and angst to hurt comfort because i like my heart broken -cotmlc

THANK YOU, CO-PRESIDENT, FOR RELIEVING MY HORRIBLE, TERRIBLE, SOUL-CRUSHING BOREDOM

Also, seeing as this is angst, I’m switching the prompt up just a little. My headcanon is that Eva’s mom is the Best Mom and Kate’s parents are Trying (And Failing A Little But Overall Doing Their Best), so we’re getting Kate’s more-homophobic-grandparents instead for the Angst Factor.

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

Okay, yes, Kate was nervous.

Like, super nervous.

Eva had sworn up and down that she loved Kate no matter what, and while that did help her fear of losing her, she was still scared this afternoon was going to make Eva run away. Even if she didn’t, though, Kate was still expecting hell.

Her maternal grandparents were thoroughly convinced that Kate’s sarcastic, cynical, girls-and-flannel-loving personality was Just A Phase and she’d grow out of it and start wearing pink and giggling and liking guys any moment now. Obviously, that wasn’t happening. When she’d joined the cheer squad, they’d been so excited, Kate almost felt bad about disappointing them.

Almost. She didn’t actually feel bad about it.

Actually, her grandparents were one of the only things that told Kate her mom really and truly supported her sexuality. Sure, she was insecure about it, and had once asked her if she thought it was “just a phase,” but she always defended Kate whenever her grandparents asked if she was interested in anyone and she answered with “Bridget” or “Emily” or “Jennifer.”

Her mom’s mediocre support aside, Kate had been postponing this meeting for as long as she could. She and Eva had officially been together since February, and now it was July. She’d met Eva’s mother, uncle, and siblings, and Eva had met her parents and brothers. She knew for a fact that Eva had Chess’s letter tucked safely in a dresser drawer and that she reread it often. They even regularly said “I love you” now. And yet, her grandparents had only recently even learned Eva existed.

Just like always, Kate and her parents were hosting the Dalton family’s annual 4th of July party. Typically, Kate would be forced to greet everyone and then would run up to her room to read or play on her phone, or - before Derrick and Jack had left for college and gotten so distant - she and her brothers would be in the basement, playing video games Kate probably shouldn’t have been playing when she was ten. Today, though, was going to be a bit different.

Kate’s grandmother had recently joined Facebook without her knowledge, which proved to be problematic at the end of the year. Kate’s mom had made her usual post, congratulating Derrick on finishing his first year of grad school, Jack on his sophomore year of college, and Kate on her junior year of high school. The picture of Kate she had chosen to post was one Eva had posted to Instagram (and one she’d asked permission to use, which Kate and Eva both appreciated) (the caption was very sweet, irrelevant to this story, and was “GCHS cheer fucking sucks but at least I’ve got you, I love you so much”), which was a photo of the two of them after their last cheer competition. In the photo, Eva had her arm around Kate and was kissing her cheek, and it was very obvious that they were a couple.

Kate’s grandmother saw the photo.

Kate’s first reaction when her mom told her was to freeze and think fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck SHIT fuck fuck fuck - which she thought was a very logical first reaction. Her second reaction was freak the fuck out.

One thing had led to another, and now Eva had been invited to join the Dalton family Independence Day celebrations.

She showed up a little bit before everyone else, just because that’s how Eva was, and Kate dragged her down into the basement so she could rant about how scared she was.

“My cousins are just like Lily and they’ll love you and my aunts and uncles are great and Dad’s parents are pretty cool but Mom’s parents are going to hate you,” she ranted, pacing back and forth while Eva watched from the couch. “This might have been a really bad idea.”

“It’ll be fine, Katie,” Eva tried to sooth. “You’ve literally survived a stab wound, they can’t be much worse.”

“My grandparents meeting my girlfriend? Yeah, I think I’d rather get stabbed again.”

“I think you’re overreacting.”

“You won’t think that when they show up.” Kate stopped pacing and hugged herself, trying to calm her anxiety. “Promise you’ll stay?”

“I promise.” Eva stood up and hugged her, and Kate finally managed to breathe. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Kate wanted Eva to hold her like that for the rest of the day, but the doorbell rang and Jack shouted for them to come upstairs and it was time to face the music.

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

Her paternal grandparents showed up first and, like Kate predicted, immediately adored Eva. They’d asked her at least four dozen questions before Kate’s aunt showed up a few minutes later, and as her relatives trickled in, Kate began to suspect that this was turning into less of a “family Independence Day!” party and more of a “Kate’s actually gay and has a girlfriend now, wow, time to overwhelm her” party. She’d made a deal with Jack and Derrick beforehand, having predicted what would happen, and invoked it now, leaving them to entertain their relatives while Kate pulled Eva into the backyard and onto the porch swing, where it would take several minutes for questions to reach them and they had an excuse to be as close as possible.

Kate was hoping her mom’s parents might not show up when her grandfather appeared in the doorway and her stomach sank into her beat-up shoes. He zeroed in on Kate and Eva right away and walked toward them, taking up way more space than he needed to like always.

“Kate, it’s been a while,” he boomed, and Kate winced.

“Hey, Grandpa,” she said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. “This is Eva.” Eva awkwardly waved, then put her hand down.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, and Kate felt really bad about dragging her into this.

“You must be Kate’s friend,” he nearly yelled (why the fuck did he have to be so loud?) and Kate nearly straight-up attacked him.

I’m basically in her lap right now! What the fuck do you mean, my “friend”?

Jack caught her eye from across the porch and gave her a sympathetic look before looking back at their elderly great-grandmother.

“Girlfriend, actually,” Kate corrected. “We’re dating. We’re a couple. Definitely not friends.”

“Right, of course.” Her grandfather winked at her, and she nearly screamed.

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

The day did not get much better.

When her grandmother came out, she was about as subtle as her husband had been about how she didn’t actually believe Kate and Eva were in love (maybe? In love felt a little bit strong, but it also seemed to be the best term for it and Kate didn’t have time to think of a better way to put it) and thought they were just good friends. Then, when she stood up to go and get her phone so she could show her aunt a picture of their cheer squad and Eva’s hand wasn’t covering her scar anymore, her aunt screamed and brought three people running, pinning all the attention on Kate in a really bad way.

After a few hours, Kate whispered something in Eva’s ear and stepped away, into the garage, trying to catch her breath and calm down. The door opened, and rather than being Eva or one of her brothers like she’d hoped, she opened her eyes to see her grandmother.

“I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were okay, honey.”

“I’m fine, Grandma. Just needed a moment.” She clenched her teeth and prayed her grandmother would leave. She didn’t.

“Eva seems nice,” she continued.

“She is.” Kate almost started to hope that maybe, maybe, her grandmother would start to take her relationship seriously. “I’m lucky to have her.”

“You seem like really good friends.” Fuck, there it was.

“Okay, you know what? Knock it off!” Kate didn’t mean to blow up, but she couldn’t help it now. “It doesn’t matter how much you deny it, it’s not going to change the fact that I’m not the granddaughter you have in your head! I love Eva, okay? I love someone who’s name is Eva and not Evan. I love her and I’m a lesbian and I’m so tired of you not taking me and my relationships seriously like you do Jack and Derrick!” Then she stormed past her and up to her room, her eyes stinging with tears.

After about twenty minutes, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Go away,” she mumbled.

“Katie?”

“Oh. You can come in.”

Eva opened the door and then closed it behind herself. “Are you okay? Your grandmother says you totally lost your shit at her.”

“I kinda did.”

“I’m not surprised.” Eva sat next to her, and Kate sat up and crawled into her arms. “They’ve been assholes to us all day.”

“I just really love you, Eva, and I want them to understand that.” Kate’s voice was muffled by Eva’s shirt. “I want them to take you seriously as my girlfriend and stop trying to deny it. I-I want them to accept that I’m not the perfect granddaughter they wanted. I’m not perfect.”

“And thank God. If you were perfect, how would I make fun of you for how atrocious you are at skateboarding? How would I keep you from fighting some people and watch you fight others?” Eva pulled her a little bit tighter and laid down, Kate still curled up in her arms. “I hate your grandparents, but I love you more.”

“Promise you’ll stay?”

“Promise.”

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

Everyone has that one relative who denies your sexuality, right? I’m not out to my family as lesbian, just as ace, and I still think they don’t quite get it. But hey, everyone’s got someone who has their back, right? I hope this was angsty enough!!!!!!

[sternchencas]

excellent prompt by @cas-watches-over-you

Title: Burdon of a Best Man

Pairing: Destiel | Rating: General | Word Count: 3,625 | also on AO3

Tags: declarations of love, mutual pining, friends to lovers

Summary: Dean Winchester is getting married. Castiel has been waiting for that day since they’ve been teenagers. The only problem: Castiel is the best man, not the groom. He’s sitting in front of a ring that doesn’t belong to him and never will. What if he puts it on, just for a second? Nobody will know, right?

Cas stumbles into his apartment, wanting nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep forever. Today has been one of the worst days of his life.

In the morning, Cas slipped in the shower, hitting his head. Then his car wouldn’t start. He had to take the bus, missing the first one by a second, only to spill his coffee on himself standing in the next one. At work, Cas got chewed out by his boss for a mistake that wasn’t even his fault. On his way back from work, the strap of his bag snapped, all of his belongings ending up on the floor. Cas had to crawl around on the ground, gathering up his stuff while the people who rushed past him cursed him out for being in their way.

The only thing that kept Cas going was the prospect of having dinner with Dean later, but then Dean called and canceled. He has too much to do with wedding preparations.

The wedding. Cas tried his best to ignore all talk about it as much as possible, but that’s hard to do if you’re a best man. And then there’s the little box on his dresser. Dean gave it to him two weeks ago, for safekeeping.

Cas walks up to it, remembering how Dean handed the box over to him. He opens it for the first time since then. The ring is a simple golden band with a small “W” engraved on the inside. It’s not pompous or even that valuable. Its worth comes from the time it has been in the Winchester family, and how it invites you to become one of them. Four weeks from now, Benny is going to have that pleasure.

A burning sensation runs through Cas. It’s as if he’s swallowing acid every time he thinks about it. Looking down at the ring, he wonders what it must be like for Benny. How does it feel to be Dean Winchester’s fiance, to marry Dean Winchester, to become a Winchester? How does it feel to kiss Dean, a bitter voice inside of Cas adds. What a rush it must be, what an overpowering life-changing experience, to be embraced by Dean, held by Dean, loved by Dean.

Cas wouldn’t know and it’s killing him.

He rushes into the kitchen, getting himself a drink. Only after a few hasty gulps and holding a glass that’s filled to the brim does Cas go back into his bedroom. Putting down the glass, he takes the ring out of the box. Dean showed it to him many years ago. They were still in school, too young to think about the rest of their lives. Somehow they ended up talking about it anyway. Cas, with an enormous crush on his best friend, dipped his toe into the fantasy that one day, he could be wearing that ring. But he didn’t say anything. They still had so much time after all.

A few months later, Dean started dating Lisa. He did so for four years, leading Cas to believe that he never had a chance since Dean’s strictly into women. Cas did his best to get over Dean. He still had the pleasure of being his best friend after all. He was there when things with Lisa ended, putting Dean back together.

Not long after that, Dean came out as bi to Cas. Of course, Cas was thrilled but he didn’t want to prey on his vulnerable friend by forcing his own feelings on Dean. They’ve been in each other’s lives for so long, they had all the time in the world. So they stayed friends, Cas doing everything to make Dean happy. Even when that meant driving Dean to a date with Benny.

Cas takes another sip from his drink, turning the ring around between his fingers. Then he looks up at a photograph on the dresser. It shows him and Dean.

After college, they got into the Impala and drove around for three months. They had no plans, not much money, and no ideas what the future would bring. But they were happy just being with each other. The photo was taken in a little town whose name they forgot the second they left it.

The day Cas and Dean were there, two bakers were trying to make the biggest pie in the world. Cas doesn’t remember if they succeeded, he only remembers Dean’s excitement. The photo shows them standing opposite of each other, holding up their forks. The local photographer wanted them in that pose. When it took him forever to take the picture, he left Cas and Dean to stare at each other for a long, long time. To this day, that’s been one of the best days Cas has ever had.

“Pathetic,” Cas grunts to himself before drinking again.

Dean is going to marry Benny, and there’s nothing Cas can do to change that. The least he can do is give himself a little high. Cas takes position in front of the picture, his eyes fixed on Dean. He imagines what it would be like to stand before the altar with Dean, getting married, exchanging their vows.

“Dean, you’ve been my best friend for so long, I can’t even remember a life without you. Not that I want to. You’re the kindest, smartest, most loving person I know. It’s been an honor to fight with you through hard times. It’s been a pleasure to enjoy life with you during good times. I’ve been blessed to live a life so full of you and I will do everything in my power to earn up to it. I’ll always come when you call. I’ll raise you from perdition if I have to. I will cherish you, body and soul, and I will always, always love you.”

Tears begin to well in Cas’ eyes. He knows he’ll never be able to say these things to the real Dean, but he pushes the thought away. Instead, he puts the ring on his finger and closes his eyes. Reality will comes soon enough. Tonight, he’ll allow himself to dream.

——

“So what’s so important that I had to drive by here?” Dean asks. “You know how freaking busy I am.”

“Yes, I know.” Cas ushers Dean into his apartment, his heart beating a mile a minute. “It’s actually about the wedding.”

“Okay. What is it?”

Cas swallows hard. He’s been avoiding Dean for a week, but now is the time to fess up. “Please don’t get mad at me, Dean. I had a drink and I wasn’t thinking. It was a stupid spur of the moment-”

Dean grabs Cas’ shoulders, his eyes boring into Cas’. “Calm down and just tell me. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Cas’ heart stops but with Dean’s gaze on him, he manages to lift up his hand. Dean follows the motion, looking puzzled. Then his expression changes from surprise to something Cas can’t quite explain. He’s never seen Dean like this. He must be furious.

“Why are you wearing that?” Dean asks, his voice shaking.

“I slipped it on and wanted to put it right back, but now it’s stuck. I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“My great-grandmother’s ring. On your hand.” Dean sounds nothing like himself, his expression still unreadable to Cas.

“I tried twisting and turning. I tried cold water. I tried ice and lifting my arm. I tried all kinds of lube. It just won’t come off.” The words rush out of Cas now while he tries his best to hold back tears. It’s bad enough that he’s losing the love of his life, he can’t bear to lose his best friend, too.

“You- you can’t take it-” All the color is leaving Dean’s face. He takes Cas’ hand, staring at the ring. “It will stay on your hand forever?”

“No, Dean, no,” Cas says in a rush. “Of course not. Tomorrow I’ll go down to a jeweler right around the corner. I talked to him on the phone and he’s sure he can get it off without damaging it. Everything will be fine.”

Dean looks up at Cas, his eyes wide and his skin still ashen. Cas squeezes his hand. “It’s going to be alright, Dean. I promise. Benny’s going to wear that ring.”

“Benny,” Dean breathes as if hearing the name for the first time. “Yeah, sure.”

“Please tell me you’re not mad.” Cas knows he has no right to ask that but the fear of losing Dean is holding him tight.

Dean drops his gaze back to their hands. He runs his thumb over the ring on Cas’ finger, dead silence falling over them. Cas hears the blood rushing through his veins while an icy feeling settles in his stomach until Dean speaks. “No, I’m not mad,” Dean says, squeezing Cas’ fingers for a moment. “You made a stupid mistake. We all make stupid mistakes.”

“I’ll fix this. Tomorrow, you’ll get your ring back.”

Dean finally lets go off Cas’ hand, clapping him on the shoulder instead. “It’s alright. Just let me know how it goes, okay?”

“Of course. I’ll call you right after I’ve been to the jeweler.”

“Great.” Dean nods but doesn’t meet Cas’ eye. “I still have a lot of stuff to do, so-”

He’s out of the door in a second, not giving Cas a chance to say something else. Cas leans against the door seconds later, his legs giving out under him. He’s been Dean’s best friend for so long that they don’t need words. Cas knows that something between them just changed. Burying his face in his hands, Cas lets the tears come. They don’t stop for a long time.

——

Dean didn’t pick up the phone when Cas called him after the jeweler got the ring off. Cas messaged Dean instead, getting a “okay thanks” a day later. That was a week ago.

Cas is sitting at his kitchen table, staring out of the window, his phone in front of him. He hasn’t seen Dean since his confession, and the few messages they exchanged were all about the wedding. Cas even considered giving up being best man, but he’ll do everything he can to be Dean’s friend as long as Dean will have him, even if it kills him.

The sudden ring of his phone makes Cas jump. It’s a new message from “honey.” One night, while Cas and Dean were awfully drunk, they changed the names in their phones. Dean became “honey” and Cas became “sunshine.” Cas is sure that Dean changed it the day after, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Cas opens the message.

“Can I come by your place? Now?”

Cas sighs. Usually, Dean would just swing by whenever he felt like it. It’s a testament to their broken friendship that he has to ask. Still, Cas replies right away.

“Of course. I’m home.”

Cas gets back to staring out of the window with the only difference being that the empty feeling in his chest is replaced by a burning anxiety. There’s a knock on the door five minutes later. Dean must have been close by already.

Taking a deep breath, Cas opens the door. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.”

It’s their usual greeting and Cas has a hard time taking his eyes off Dean as he walks into the kitchen. Somehow it feels as if Cas might see him for the last time. Dean is as beautiful as ever, but Cas can see that he’s sad and worried.

Dean sits down in his chair while Cas takes his place on the other side. He’s burning with questions but with Dean, the best course of action is to wait.

“The wedding is off,” he finally says.

“What?” Cas was so sure that this was about their friendship that he didn’t even consider other possibilities.

“Benny and I … we broke up. Last week.”

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” Cas says, surprised how genuinely upset he feels. He hated to lose Dean, but he didn’t want for Dean and Benny to be unhappy. “I thought you- Why?”

Dean stares out of the window. “We both kinda got cold feet, so we sat down and talked about why. It reminded me of being with Lisa. I still love them both, but neither of them is the one, you know? And I’m not that for Benny either. It was a mutual decision to get out before it’s too late.”

“You’ve only been together for two years. Don’t you think that could still change?”

“No.” Dean shakes his head. “We’re good friends and that’s it. I always imagined it to be different when I marry someone.”

Cas stands up and gets a little package out of one of his cupboards to put it in front of Dean. It’s an Angel Food Cake. They call it “Dean’s emergency pie.” “Different how?”

Dean doesn’t answer right away, his fingers playing with the plastic wrapper. He takes a deep sigh. “The one for me is always on my mind. He drives me up the wall, but no fight could ever break us up. He knows what I want seconds before I can even say it. I know all about him by heart, but he still manages to surprise me. I love his quirks and he deals with mine. He can get me out of the deepest hole with just a smile. We can be silent together without it ever feeling weird. Most of the time, I can’t stop looking at him, wanting to be close. I can listen to him forever. I want to pick his brain, know about his thoughts and feelings. I miss him the second he leaves the room. I’d risk everything for him. He can heal me, make me forget the world around us. And he’d make me see that I deserve that. That I’m loved. Unconditionally.”

Cas can’t help but stare at Dean open-mouthed while Dean is still looking out of the window. Cas has been at the receiving end of long rants from Dean about various topics he’s interested in, but he’s never heard him talk so much about feelings. About love. He must have thought about this a lot before splitting up with Benny. “I know it probably hurts too much right now, but I’m sure you’ll have that someday. I’m sure you’ll find the one.”

Dean swallows, the muscles in his jaw moving as if he’s biting back an answer. They both look out of the window for a while before Dean breaks the silence. “My ring…”

“Of course.” Cas jumps to his feet and fetches the little box from his bedroom, putting it down on the table in front of Dean before sitting back down. “Good as new.”

Dean looks at the box but doesn’t take it. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Why did you put it on?” Dean’s voice has the same tone it had when he saw Cas’ hand with the ring. It makes Cas shiver.

“I told you. I had a drink and looked at it. I mean, it’s a ring. Putting it on your finger is what you do, right?”

“I just thought-” Dean says, sounding out of breath. He bites his lip for a moment, and Cas can see the anger rising in him. “This isn’t just any ring. And putting it on, that means something. Sam could have given it to Eileen, but he let me have it, hoping that I would find as much love as he did. This ring, it’s love. You don’t just put it on for fun. It’s a gift. It means everything.”

Cas heart stops. He’s rarely seen Dean talk about something the way he does now. “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. It just-” Cas shrugs his shoulders. He has no idea how to explain himself without confessing to Dean why he really did it.

Dean stares at Cas as if he doesn’t recognize his friend anymore. “It just- what?” Dean mimics Cas’ shrug, his eyes full of anger. “Fuck you, Cas.”

Jumping to his feet, Dean grabs the little box and storms out of the kitchen. For a second, Cas is frozen in place, but then he rushes after Dean. He crosses the living room as if he suddenly grew wings, grabbing Dean’s arm. He can’t lose him. He just can’t. “Dean, wait! Please!”

Dean stops but wrangles his arm free. “Let me go, dammit. I need you to let me go.”

“I lied about the ring,” Cas confesses, the words rooting them both to the spot. Their eyes meet like so many times before but it feels different, as if their standing at the edge of a cliff.

Cas takes a deep breath and jumps. He might lose Dean with what he’s about to say, but he finally understands that there’s no more time left. He wasted too much of it already.

“I was standing in my bedroom, looking at the ring. I thought about the wedding and that there’s a good chance that I’ll never get anything like it. I put it on because I wanted to know what it would feel like. Receiving a gift like that, being loved, getting married. I knew it wasn’t real, but I was lost and sad and I- I needed to feel something good.”

“Cas-” Dean’s whole body deflates, and Cas almost wishes he would stay angry. He can’t have Dean be all tender and understanding with him. Still, he bathes in the gaze of Dean’s warm eyes. “How can you think you’ll never have that?”

Cas wants to shrug. He wants to give a stupid excuse, maybe make a joke. Instead, he has to be brave for once. “Because I wanted to receive a gift like that from you. I wished to be loved by you. I dreamed of getting married to you. For me, you are the one.”

Dean stares at Cas with wide eyes. The silence in the room is deafening, something lingering between them. There’s a storm coming. “You kept telling me that we’re friends,” Dean croaks. “I showed you the ring, talking about our future, and you told me we’re friends.”

Taking a step closer to Cas, Dean lifts his hand with the box. “After Lisa, I came out to you first. I wanted so bad for you to understand that there could be more. Again, you told me that we’re just friends. And now what? Are you saying you had feelings for me the whole time?”

Cas has a hard time processing what Dean is saying to him. Even worse is the look in Dean’s eyes. He’s anxious, confused, lost. Cas wants to take all of it away but doesn’t know how. “I didn’t want to risk our friendship if you didn’t return my feelings.”

“Jesus, Cas.” Dean turns away from him, running a hand through his hair. Then he turns back, shaking. “I broke up with Benny because of you. I saw that damn ring on your finger and everything else just faded away. I forgot my freaking fiance. All I could think about was how the ring was already in the right place. How it belongs there. How you belong with me.”

Cas’ head feels as light as if he’s about to faint any second. Dean takes a step closer to him. “I made so many stupid mistakes. I miss you the second you leave the room. I’d risk everything for you. You can heal me, and you make me forget the world around us. All this time, you’ve given me nothing but love, never asking for anything in return. I had the one with me all this time. It’s you, Cas. It’s always been you.”

Dean takes Cas’ hand, pushing the little box into it. “This belongs to you, no matter what.”

“Dean.” Cas’ eyes widen in shock, the box burning a hole in his hand. “This is for the person you’ll marry.”

“Like we’re not already married,” Dean chuckles. “The bickering. Stupid miscommunication. I’ve even seen you without makeup.”

Cas laughs, the built-up tension breaking out of him. “Shut up.”

Dean lifts his hands, framing Cas’ face in slow motion. Cas can barely feel the soft touch. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Cas breathes as sparks erupt in his stomach, lighted by warm waves that seem to spring out of Dean’s fingertips, coating Cas’ body.

Pulling Cas closer, Dean brings their lips together, the kiss so tender, Cas is melting into Dean. He misses the touch the second Dean moves away. “If you tell me that we’re just friends one more time, I’ll have to kill you. You know that, right?’

Cas tilts his head back, needing to see Dean’s bemused face. He shouldn’t have doubted them. “How about husbands instead?” Cas asks, holding up the ring. “Will you marry me, Dean?”

Dean’s smile lights up the room. He grabs Cas more forceful than before, answering in between kisses. “Yes. I. Will.”

Cas begins to see the world in a whole new light. His imagination was never enough. There’s nothing that feels as good as being held by Dean, kissed by Dean, loved by Dean.

——

Most things in Cas’ and Dean’s lives stay exactly the same. They have movie nights, eat dinner together, and plan another wedding. It takes six months for a few things to change.

They find an apartment and move in together. Dean changes Cas’ contact in his phone from “sunshine” to “fiance” to “husband.” (“What do you mean, why? Because I can, Cas.”) The ring now fits on Cas’ finger. And most importantly, Castiel Novak now listens to the name Castiel Winchester.

Being the groom is a lot more fun than being the best man.

[proxyartsblog]

Fallout Equestria ( Country Roads)

By proxyart.

{The introduction}

(68 years after the mega spells)

(A group of Caravan ponies and a group of Talons sit around a campfire in the forest of  West Virgineigh in the shadow the the stable 76 ruins .  It's cold out and the two groups sit making small talk and trading stories. After a while a pony started to notice a odd member of the talon group)

A shy young blue unicorn spoke up , she had a soft timid voice. "um m..mr Griffin... how ... uh no um why is... your back legs different from the other Griffins?" Her ears dropped as he looked Over at her.

"I'm a hippogriff" said the smooth looking avian, he was quite pretty, with his lovely golden feathers and creamy tan coat , he spoke with a unique accent, something from the old world the blue unicorn thought.

"F..forgive me but a what?" She said with a puzzled shakey voice.

(He smiled and sat up.)

"A hippogriff my dear filly" the smooth voice said, he spoke like a pony, " you don't know do you? " he asked.

(The blue unicorn shook her head.)

" no sorry I'm not aware of Griffins or anything to do with the talons " she blushes brightly noticing them stare.

(The hippogriff's beak gives a friendly smile as he steps into the fire light.)

"My name is Apple Gin, and I am not a normal creature, no matter how you look at it, I'm the descend of a earth pony who throw out all odds service the mega spells and fell in love with a Griffin , from her and their love my mother was born , my mother was a miracle my grandfather said, a foal that shouldn't exist but somehow did."

(Apple Gin saw the curiosity growing in the eyes of the young filly.)

"You want to know more don't you? " he asked with a croaked smile.

(The blue unicorn nodded happily, no longer the shy blue filly she was , this girl got closer to hear every word he spoke. )

"Please tell me what happened?!" The filly gidded as she clopped her hoofs excitedly.

Apple Gin sighed and sat back on his haunches. " so you want to know the story of my ancestor the the legendary stable 76? "  he asked.

She smiled sweetly and nodded " yes!" She paused for a moment  "I mean yes please mr. Gin sir"

Apple Gin gave her a odd look and sighed happily, " Gin is fine... so where to start this story? ... it's a long one to tell "

(The blue pony thought for a moment then with a smile.)

"I got all night... better then dealing with them swamp crawlers or mega beasts... right Gin ?"

(Apple Gin smiled )

"Yes ma'am " he started to tell his grandmother's story.

"To tell this tale we must start off 25 years after the war... 25 years after the mega spells dropped and all of equestria was plunged Into Darkness".

(War ... war never changes.... )

[End holotape prologue. ]

☆◇♧♡♤☆◇♧♡♤☆◇♡♧♤☆

[Chapter one] country roads.

[Memory orb holotape begin]

(A song started to play over the PA system of the stable, followed by a older mare's voice)

(A inebriated orange and creamy caramel colored earth pony falls out of her bed woken by the loudly playing music and that mare's voice, she looked around her stable room and realized it was very quiet, too quiet, there was a huge party just yesterday, and today was her 25th birthday, the day she was also supposed to leave the stable as well.)

"Shit... ouch my head, I swear one day I'll stop drinking " she always said it but she never has, after all she owed her cutie mark to alcohol, all the members of her father's family did, it was a family tradition and Apple whiskey wasn't going to be the pony to end a family tradition!

(She looked at goodmorning stable-tec window with its happy  little birds and smiling sun, the stable colt smiled back at her reminding her she was late. )

"Good morning stable 76, this is the Overmare , I hope you all enjoyed the party last night, even those who might have over overindulged and overslept. But it's time to get up and get out there, we've been locked away long enough."

(She listened to the Overmare speech as she brushed her teeth and combed her mane, it didn't do anything to help, her mane and tail was a knotted mess of curls and knots, she had tried to keep her hair nice but since mother died Whiskey had a hard time with managing it.)

"Stupid mane... ouch! How am I supposed to brush this mess if I'm not a unicorn!?" She yelled frustrated by her lack of magic or her mothers hair dresser bot.

(Her mother was a robotics engineer, the best in equestria or so others told her. The stable was full of the best and brightest members of equestria and many of the ponies onces worked for stable-tec or rob-co, some were doctors and musicians, others were bankers, scientist, farmers, painters, chefs and more, if they were the best they were in 76!, and the offspring, the children of the generation of genius ponies? Why they were told daily that they were going to save equestria... and the world, that day was today... and Apple wasn't running to the stable door like the others had.)

(A robot brought Apple whiskey her pipbuck, it had a big 76 Pip‑buck 2000 in blue and silver numbers on it with the ugly brown and tan pipbuck casing , Apple placed it on her fetlock and began to adjust to it's weight, Apple thought her pipbuck was very ugly and useless, all she ever used it for was the radio and keeping track of other ponies. )

"Stupid heavy thing..." said Apple.

"Oh miss Apple I thought you'd never wake up" said the floating mr. Handy.

(The over mare's voice pulsed for a moment or two then continued )

"Today is Reclamation day, I kn..."( the voice was drowned out for a bit.)

"What? Why? " Apple whiskey asked.

"Why its Reclamation day don't you remember? Most of the stable is already gone ." Said the robot.

"All ready gone?! But its only..." Apple looked at the time. " Half past noon! How could you let me over sleep so long!?" She started to ran to get her stuff packed .

( the Overmare's voice started again)

"It maybe time to leave but I'll always remember the day you all entered stable 76, you come from everywhere walk of life, every pony race, color and creed, but you all share one very important trait, you are equestrias best and brightest but more importantly you will always be my family."

(The broadcast ended)

"Wow Overmare ... I wonder if the old mare is still here? ... would make sense that the Overmare would be last to leave right?" Apple got all the things she wanted to take with her.

(Apple whiskey packed a large saddlebag with 5 bottles of purified water, 3 stem packs, 2 boxes of big-mac and cheese, 1 picture of her parents, a hoof pistol and a hoof full of bullets,  2 Med-X , 2 healing potions, 1 sparkle cola cherry and 4 bottles of her famous Apple whiskey and the recipe so no one else could make it .)

"Miss Apple you mustn't forget about you're camp " said the Mr handy.

"My camp? What is that? ... you mean my still bot? " Apple asked.

(The Mr. handy looked insulted by her calling that metal pot a robot)

"No miss apple not that busted excuse for bolts.... the camp unit is you're home away from home miss... " he handed her the rather small box .

"This is a camp?" She looked complex.

"You need a home base out there. The Construction and Assembly Mobile Platform is designed to give you one." Said the handy.

"So this will help me serve? Good to know... uh ok " Apple took the camp and stored it in her saddlebags.

"Wow it fits a lot... one day I'll learn how it carries all my junk..." she was impressed by the bags, she thought it had to be part of the stable-tec spell Matrix.

(Apple strapped the saddlebags to her back and holstered her pistol. )

"Ok looks like that's everything Handy...what will you do onces I'm gone?" She asked.

(The mr. Handy hovered around and brought her a tiny mr. handy statuette.)

"Miss Apple please take care of yourself... I'll be here , I must lock up the stable and once I do life support will be turned off... no living creature will be able to close the stable door." The handy said .

( Apple looked sad but she understood she would never seen the first friend she had again, tears fell down her pale caramel coat.)

"Good bye old friend " Apple gave the bot a quick nuzzle and a kind smile.

(Apple set out her room and into the corredores of the stable, the gray drury walls of the stable gave her a bit of comfort, she was very nervous about leaving, if it was up to Apple whiskey she would have stayed there until she died un old mare with many grand foals running through the many hall's. )

(As Apple walked past the Overmare's office she popped her head in to say goodbye however the office was completely empty of life.)

"Overmare!... eh? ... nuna?... " Apple walked around her desk and sat in the big chair, it smelled so nice , the smell of foal hood memories.

(The Overmare loved to let the foals play in her office while their parents worked their various jobs in the stable. Her happiness memories were learning how to be a Overmare from the only grandmother she would ever know. )

"Overmare... I guess I'll never get to say goodbye to her..." Apple saw that her terminal was still on, normally she wouldn't snoop but she was as rather nosy filly .

(Apple clicked her hoof to the keyboard and  ejected a holotape from the Overmare's office terminal)

"What in the seven?... a holotape? " she wondered if it was a goodbye from the Overmare.

"Overmare what could you be up to?" Apple noticed the holotape port in the side of her pipbuck, she put the holotape in .

(The holotape started to play)

"Overmare's log, or should I say, direct communication. Because whoever is listening to this had the moxy to try to find out where I've gone." It paused for a moment.

"But I'm glad you did. Truth is, I need your help. I've been given a task, and... I've decided to break protocol and tell you what it is. Because If there's one thing I've learned in these past few years, it's that we need to rely on each other." It paused for a moment.

"There were three active mega spell silos in Virgineigh before the Balefire Bombs fell. They blew up the Equestria before. We can't let it happen again. So we've got to locate and secure all of the silos, or die trying. Hopefully the former. Hmph." It paused for a moment.

"But it's been twenty-five years. I just don't know what we're going to find out there. Or where to start... My directive was to go to the nearest population center and assess the situation. I'll set up a C.A.M.P. on the way once I get my bearings. Find me there." The holotape stopped.

(Apple felt confused as she tried to figure out and take in all the information she just heard.  Apple wasn't exactly sure what she could do to help her but if the Overmare needed her she would try her best to find her and help... not because of Stable tec but for the only grandmother she had... the pony who called her family. )

"Looks like we are going out there after all..."  she thought to herself.

(Apple started to wake out when she stopped at the Overmare's bedroom door, she had took the time to make her bed and straighten her room, maybe she should have cleaned up her room before as well but she didn't want the handy bots to have nothing to do for all time.)

"Wow Overmare you really need to relax... hehehe " Apple said with a giggle.

(She smiled at the handy bots that met her at the hatch to the stable door.)

"Goodbye handys...  I wish you all the best, look after the stable for everypony. " Apple hugged the sliver handy bot.

"Goodbye miss apple, and we will look after your sill bot... even if we think it's a waste of technology and fermented grains." Said the mr. handy.

(Apple smiled, she whipped her eyes.)

"I'll miss all of you so much " Apple tried not to cry as she walked thought the stable entrance and stepped out into the world beyond .

[End of holotape chapter one.]

https://my.w.tt/JCjbulc9R5

[3amsnek]

Top 5 places from your childhood. In as much detail as you can add. Also tag me

Ooooohhhh okie dokie

(I’m very bad at writing and this will be way too long I apologize in advance)

@deeplyjuniper

(This is ridiculously long I’m going to try to put a cut thing in here so it’s not taking up the entirety of my blog thing or something we’ll see how that goes)

1. My closet in my old house

It had a light switch on the inside (a big plus for a child who was Not Big On The Dark- nobody outside could turn off the light if I was inside with the door shut) and was big enough for a little kid to happily fit in. I had clothes and stuff hanging right in front of the door, but past that and sideways there was a little alcove bit that was empty, with a slanted ceiling like the rest of the room. I used to take all my stuffed animals and make a big heap of them in there and then take a book and sit on top of the pile and read for hours (I especially did this when I got a new book that I was excited about, the smell of new books still brings this to mind) 

2. Garden center

Fairly close to my old house there’s a garden center with a little cafe restaurant thing built into it. My mom used to take me there to have lunch and they used to give out little toy frogs and lizards with food to kids and it was one of my favorite things ever. Also plants!! I wasn’t yet allergic to every flower ever so we’d admire all the plant friends and depending on the time of year we’d get flowers to plant in front of our house. There was a five+ year period where I didn’t once go there for a number of reasons and I sorta forgot about it and then I acquired a plant obsession and have been going back a bunch and demonstrating my abysmal impulse control with plant purchases so that’s nice? It’s kinda very cool and I still really like it there but for different reasons which is interesting 

3. The woods behind my old house

We lived on the edge of a very large woods area that my brother and I frequently went into, sometimes with my dad. There were tons of trails going everywhere and we brought notebooks and mapped out quite a lot of the trails and then used those maps to navigate and honestly it was fairly accurate and well done for little kiddos? Most of it was in some form of hill that we lived at the bottom of. A highlight of this was a trail leading down a semi steep area of hill that had a much steeper maybe two foot drop off close to the bottom of it. Someone had put three huge leaf piles there a while ago, and they were doing the decaying thing which somehow made them super springy and essentially somewhat functional trampolines if you had enough momentum? Basically picture baby demon child running as fast as they can down a hill and then yeeting themself onto a leaf pile and bouncing off of it and being ridiculously happy about this. 

4. My grandparents house, specifically their loft

Every summer we went (and still go but also quarantine so not this year) to visit my grandparents for a weekend (they live about four hours away). While we were there we slept in their loft, basically a big one room second story that covers about half the house with a spiral staircase leading up to it. There’s four twin sized beds and I have had the same aggressive preference for one for years, simply because it has a little window by the floor next to it and that’s wildly appealing to my demon brain. Also an old typewriter, (my brother was fascinated with it at around age 8 or 9) lots of boards with jewelry my grandmother made on them, and a dresser type thing that somehow manages to be woven like a basket? But more importantly has drawers with all sorts of semi random things that my brother and I used to love to look around in and play with. In particular they have a funky wooden snake that’s sectioned and moves and for like seven years I thought it was the coolest thing. Also they live on a lake which is absolutely amazing. 

5. [redacted] Studio

Basically as soon as we moved to the state I live in now we found art classes for the overly artistically enthusiastic child I am. I vaguely remember my mom talking to the lady who runs the studio as I finished a painting that we still have (its.....something. it sure is something) from one of the first times I went there. They used to be in this old warehouse type place downtown with minimal space. The tables are covered in paint and every couple years they replace them and auction the old tabletops (they end up looking pretty cool and colorful). There was a main Making Art studio area and then a big room off of there filled with random objects and supplies and also a large multiheaded rubber dragon. I did camps and after school things and all sorts of stuff with them for years and years and then sort of stopped for a while- during that time they moved to a ridiculously amazing new space that I could rant about for even longer but this is already ridiculous so I won’t. I’ve been doing lots of oil painting there for a few years now and also first got to use liquid ink stuff through them so that was very cool 

...Oh my

I have written an essay? Somehow? You did say as much detail as I can add and I probably could’ve done even more but that’d be a little insane so

Have this Giant Mess of a thing?

(Once again apologies for my bad writing skills)

[tivaholic4]

NCIS High School: Chapter Twelve

After they had all eaten their ice cream, they made small talk for about another hour or so. Tony turned to Ziva and smiled as he noticed she was still wearing his jacket. He looked at his watch and noticed that it was almost 9:30. He had seen the text from Rivka to Ziva and decided that it was about time to take her home.

“Hey Guys, it’s getting late and I need to get Ziva home. I don’t want Rivka upset with me.” Ziva chuckled.

“My mother loves you but yes I should get home. Thank you for inviting me. I had a fun time tonight. I have never had ice cream before so this was a first for me. Thank you.” Abby almost fell out of her chair.

“You’ve never had ice cream before?!” Ziva shook her head. She was never allowed ice cream. Another one of her father's unrealistic ideals for her life. Gibbs looked at her with wow in his eyes. Gibbs made a silent promise to protect this girl with everything that he had. Like Tony, he felt a pull towards her, not exactly like Tony, but more of a fatherly protector. She had been practically dictated her entire life and now she could finally live 18 years later. 18 years too late.

Everybody stood up from their chairs, all deciding that it was time to go home as it was getting late, and made their way to their respective cars. Tony opened the passenger side door for Ziva and she stepped in with a small on her face. He went around the car and hopped in on his side and started the engine. They made their way to Ziva’s house in silence. Neither sure what they should talk about. Tony turned to look at her and let out a small smirk when he noticed that Ziva was looking at him too. He looked back to the road and turned the radio up so they weren’t in complete silence.

They pulled into Ziva’s driveway, and just like before, Tony got out and went around to her door to open it. Ziva gave him a sly smile and looked into his beautiful green eyes that were even more beautiful in the night light. God, he was a sight to behold. He walked her up to her door and saw that the porch light was on. No doubt Rivka was waiting for her to get home. She turned to look at him just as they got to the car. He was standing closer to her than she expected and made a quick glance at his lips before looking into his eyes again. He couldn’t help but lean in a bit towards her. The temptation to kiss her was way stronger than it was earlier. They were mere inches from each other when the light in the living room inside the house turned on. Both sensing that Rivka was still up and waiting for her, they stepped apart. Wanting to put some distance between them. Tony gulped and went wide-eyed as he realized what he was about to do. He didn’t want to cross a line. Didn’t want to pressure her into anything. He didn’t want her to go back to her previous thoughts about him. That he was just trying to get into her pants.

Ziva saw his hesitation. Was there something wrong with her? Was he embarrassed or ashamed to kiss her? It was almost like he could read her thoughts. He placed his hand on the side of her cheek and looked her in the eye as he spoke.

“I want to. I really do…” He leaned in a little further, proving his point that she had a hold over him. She leaned in as well. They were millimeters apart when Tony pulled back again.

“Ziva…” All of a sudden, the front door opened to reveal Rivka on the other side with a small smirk on her face. Tony and Ziva looked her way with wide eyes. Tony gulped again and moved away from Ziva.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning for school. If you would like me too, that is.” Ziva gave him a slight nod, embarrassed that her mother caught them.

“I would like that.” She whispered. He smiled and nodded. He made his way back to his car and with a wave pulled out of the driveway and into the night.

Ziva turned to look at her mother, who she couldn’t help but notice the giant smile plastered on her face.

“What?” Ziva asked, already knowing what it was about.

“I used to be that way with your father. He used to look at me that way.” Immediately, Ziva went on the defensive.

“Tony is nothing like Abba, Ima.” Rivka nodded her head sadly.

“Your father was not always that way, Zivaleh. He used to be a good man.”

“I find that very hard to believe.” Ziva scoffed. After all he did to her, she was supposed to believe him to be a good man?

“Eli was never the same once he joined Mossad, neither was Ari.” Ziva looked at the lights that were illuminating the streets around them. Rivka kept speaking even though Ziva wished she would stop this conversation before it became too hurtful.

“Ziva. You are smitten with this boy and he you. Embrace it. Let him in. I can see that you want to.”

“Everyone who gets close always ends up dead. Eli, Ari, and now Tali. I can not afford to lose anyone else.” Rivka again looked away sadly.

“Zivaleh.” Ziva shook her head and stepped into the house, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom that was still littered with boxes. She moved over to one and pulled away at the top. What she saw inside made her cry. It was a picture of Ari, Tali, and herself when they were kids. Ari around the age of 12, Ziva around the age of 8, and Tali around the age of 4. They were so innocent, so childlike. What happened to the family that she used to know? Oh right, it was all taken away from her. From a hardcore father to death. Nothing about her family was even remotely normal.

Ziva looked around her room to see where she could place the photo. She settled on the empty spot on her dresser next to her grandmother’s jewelry box. She looked around her room once more. They had painted the day before and her room was now a beautiful shade of dark blue. Her bed having a white comforter, matched perfectly with the paint and was quite comfortable. She had a nightstand with a lamp on it next to her bed and a desk with binders and notebooks piled up on top of it next to it. Her dresser was a beautiful oak wood and fit perfectly in the space between her closet. She had her own bathroom too. Something she wasn’t even remotely used to.

She always had to share a bathroom with her siblings and other guests that came to their house. Now, she had this private bathroom where she could take long hot showers and stay in the bath for however long she wanted.

Ziva moved over to her desk and sat down in her chair. She pulled out her Chemistry notebook and pulled her homework out of the folder. She solved the first 5 problems fairly quickly and was about to move onto her next problem when her phone buzzed beside her. It was from Tony.

Tony: Hey. My family and I are having a BBQ tomorrow night. Would you want to come?

Ziva’s face scrunched up in confusion.

Ziva: What is a BBQ?

Tony: A Barbeque. Maybe there we can teach you some American slang.

Ziva smiled. He would never forget to fix her English.

Ziva: Great. What time?

Tony: Sweet! Around 7. Is that okay?

Ziva: Sounds good.

Tony: Hey Zi, can I ask you a question?

Ziva’s smile became bigger. Her heart beating rapidly.

Ziva: Of course.

Tony: Can I call you?

Ziva: Yes.

Her phone began ringing immediately. She laughed as there was no hesitation. She hit the answer button and was met with Tony’s voice.

“Hey Zi. I need your help with something if you’re willing to that is.”

“Ask away.” She could practically feel his smile on the other end of the line.

“So I was wondering about this math homework. Math’s never been good to me and I know you understand it a whole lot better than I do. Can you help me with a couple of problems?”

By this time, Ziva had already pulled out her math notebook and folder and was pulling out their math homework.

“What questions do you need help with?” This time there was some hesitation on his end.

“Uhh...like all of them. I think after someone explains the first three or so, I’ll be able to get the rest.”

“Okay. I am going to put you on speakerphone so I do not have to hold it. Be nice.” Ziva’s laugh rang through the phone and he followed soon after.

They worked on their problems together, Ziva showing him how to do them, and Tony listening intently to the information that she was providing. When Tony finally got it, they both worked on their homework together, Tony checking to make sure he was right, which he was. Tony finally understood what they were doing as of right now in this class. Math always kicked his ass no matter how hard he studied it. Not that he did much of that, but still, a total train wreck.

“Thank you for helping me. I think I'll get a better grade on that quiz tomorrow. Thanks, Zi.”

“No problem, Tony. Anytime.”

“Really?” His tone was mischievous and playful, something that made Ziva laugh again.

“Homework, Tony.” His laugh made butterflies appear in her stomach. Something that only he was able to do.

They talked about school and their other classes for about an hour and a half before Ziva noticed the clock on her nightstand.

“It is getting late, Tony. I should probably head to bed. I will see you tomorrow, yes?”

“Yeah. See you in the morning...Sweetcheeks.” Ziva smiled. She liked this new nickname. Well only when it was just them. Not in front of everybody.

“Good night, Tony.”

“Night, Ziva.” Ziva pulled the phone from her ear and reluctantly hung up the phone. She could stay up all night and talk to him. Something she had never even thought of doing before. Everything was different now. And as she was drifting off to sleep under her warm comforter, she couldn’t believe how happy she was.