#anyway i’m loving the atmosphere of season two so far and i love the tone it’s set with the first episode

[magpigment]

finally got to episode one season two of prime defenders! my thoughts so far ^^ :

dakota :(

mallard >:((

[perryhedge]

Media Log Nov-Dec 202

I spent these last two months mostly trying to catch up on some long series I had started, and while I did read a bunch of manga in the first half of November, it definitely fewer series than the rest of the year. I'm not sure I did too much aside from watch anime and read manga, honestly. The winter months always tend to kind of fly by for me. But anyway!

Anime

Seasonals

Bocchi the Rock!: I mentioned this already and made a post about the first episode, but wow, this show did the impossible and pretty much kept up the frenetic energy and nonstop mind-bending visual gags the whole time. There’s some great music too. I think the fairly conservative performance scenes (barring the Kikuri scene) are not the strength of the show, nor are the characters (to me, though I did like Bocchi, Ryou, and Kikuri), but other than that it’s definitely one of the most impressive anime I’ve seen, up there with Mob Psycho as the height of the last decade of anime maybe. Also I think this is the only of two shows from this season that survived (the second being, tentatively, Cool Doji Danshi).

Cool Doji Danshi: It’s fun, it’s cute. Makes me feel really warm inside every week. Honestly even though I don’t have much to say this show is immensely underrated. The aesthetic is very comforting.

All Saint’s Street: Revisited for the Japanese dub. Still cute, haven’t finished it though.

Yugioh Go Rush: I initially dropped this so I could come back with a higher level of Japanese, and coming back to it it is still pretty hard to understand without subs at times, but other than the occasional out there episode I can follow it fine now, and even watched the arc finale live through a stream, which was really fun. So, I do like the tone and laid back atmosphere, I’m still a bit horrified at how it looks, but at this point I’m too far in to drop it and honestly, I like the humor and ensemble cast structure enough that I don’t think I’ll have trouble keeping up every week.

Shadowverse Flame: I really loved the tournament arc and everything leading up to it. I can see why the approach might strike some as nonstandard or even anticlimactic, but for those same reasons I really loved it — this show is all about catharsis and explosive moments of character growth always delivered in a very empathetic, almost sentimental way. I think the villains are super charismatic as well. Tsubasa won a spot as my favorite character in the show after the amazing arc she had in these episodes, and every match she was in was a highlight in terms of animation as well. Though like I said Tsubasa’s episodes are my favorite, the final match of the tournament was really impressive in its over the top facial expressions, and I loved everything about the beach episodes and all the slice of life character stuff in general (that’s my favorite stuff, somehow I don’t quite feel starved for it because there’s just enough, but I’d be lying if I said the show’s constant duel to duel pacing was what I wanted really). I think we’re entering the last arc, so I’m looking forward to it. I assume watching the original series will make me appreciate that arc more, but I don’t know if I’ll work up the courage to do it.

Digimon Ghost Game: I finally caught up to Ghost Game, after over a year. I also watched an episode live before the New Year, which honestly felt like fulfilling a childhood dream. That said, I think the series started to get a bit formulaic around the 40s. Around the 50s, the horror started to really go places and get really weird, which I appreciated, and a bunch of animation highlights picked up my motivation to catch up near the end. My favorite episodes 30 - 57 include 30 Bad Friend (maybe my favorite episode of the show, or tied for it), 32 Who Are You (genuinely one of the scariest episodes), 40 Spiral Beach (nice and strange concept, some fun animation), 41 Clown (Piedmon is one of the most threatening villains of the show), 43 Red Eye (killer Kakudou visuals as always), 45 Ghost Newspaper (I’m an idol fan now, remember? Also I liked the sakuga at the end), 48 The White Bride (probably one of the most if not the most actually disturbing episodes, with tons of nice Naotoshi Shida animation), 53 King of Knowledge (Kakudou again lol), and 56 Impurity (bringing together an all star team of Ghost Game staff regulars to deliver arguably the most visually consistent episode with an atmosphere to match). There are tons of duds, but you know, I’m still a Digimon fan at the end of the day, I’m going to tune in. I’m a bit sad the series is likely entering its last year (and Digimon anime may enter another eternal sleep) but hopefully it has a strong finish.

Non Seasonals

Crayon Shin-chan. As fun as ever, though I am predictably finding it a bit hard to binge. I’ve put it on hold around 40 episodes in, but I definitely am looking forward to watching more and hopefully the movies. My obsessive tendencies mean I want to watch the TV series (at least, the first 500 episodes or so under the first two directors) in order before watching the movies, but really that’s pretty insane, so we’ll see about that. I might do some research on the staff and pick out a curated list of episodes and just watch those.

Aikatsu: I was really hoping to finish the first series (at least how it's broken up on AL, at 50 episodes) but I found myself getting a bit burnt out after the major arc during the 3rd cour. It's a bit baffling to me why the show decided to have that whole saga, which is probably the most invested I've been in the show, and then follow it up with what seems to be a 12 episode victory lap (I didn't finish it yet though). I guess there's still room for these characters to grow, but I definitely miss the fun episodic stuff and the Star Anise arc has just felt a bit stifling so far. I have 8 episodes left, so I'll finish it when I find the energy. I think I'll probably watch more, but we'll have to see, since while the show is consistently fun and delivers on subtle long term character growth, I'd like to see some more...important? story arcs, or no arc at all.

Marmalade Boy: I absolutely love the aesthetic, especially the music, but also the cheesy and melodramatic direction. I guess sometimes it’s hard to take seriously, but for me it’s just pure fun and a real joy to watch.

Pokemon: After it was announced that Ash / Satoshi would be literally dying, I decided to start watching the series from the beginning in Japanese! I may not get through all of the series, at least not for a while, but I’m going at my own pace. 6 episodes in, it is surprisingly fun, and looks a lot better than I expected. When it comes down to it Pokemon is just a solid kids anime, and though the episodic plots I’m sure will start to wear on me, every episode so far has been moving the journey forward in a satisfying way. My favorite parts of it are the characters (Pokemon included), the music, and most importantly the humor (tons of wordplay, which is fun).

Minky Momo: I’m 13 or so episodes into this, caught up with the farthest known English subs project, and now hopefully contributing to the rest. It’s still fun and very cartoony, and most episodes deliver on the spectacle and humor. Momo has really endeared herself to me as well.

Visual Prison: I watched the first episode on a whim and it kind of blew me away with its surreal Gothic imagery, nonsense logic, integrated music videos and general musical-like structure, and striking character designs (I really like the music, too). I was kinda hoping the whole show would be like that, but 3 episodes in it seems far more conservative structurally (though there is still plenty of weird stuff in the narrative). I really like some of the character designs, and generally I’m still pretty much on board, but the whiplash from sky battles with microphone swords to mostly exposition kind of threw me for a loop.

Yugioh Sevens: This was a real treat to find, because I’m one arc in and I actually really loved this. The OP set the tone as it’s ridiculous, funky, and pure fun. The show isn’t the best looking (much like Go Rush), but it has so much more life than that show. I love the characters, humor, and overall energy, and I love that the distinct callback-heavy narrative writing is even more pronounced here than in its sequel. In fact, I kind of respect the sequel a lot less now, since I realize the vast majority of it is directly taking gags or characters from this show (a nice concept, but to the degree it’s used it’s just shameless). I love the main four generally, and I know the plot has to get crazy if it ends with an elementary schooler in freaking space, so I’m looking forward to it.

Manga

Kono Oto Tomare!: Was in the rare mood for a drama so I checked this one out, and the first volume won me over with its head-on sentimentality. I enjoy the classic shoujo art and the characters are endearing. That said, this manga has a dramatic flair that I’m not usually in the mood for, so I don’t know when I’ll return to this.

Fire Punch: 2 volumes into this. The first volume blew me away with its one of a kind premise, setting, and tone. I really like how effortlessly Tatsuki Fujimoto can weave strong theming into a narrative. However, volume 2 was pretty much a disappointment, with the irritating “meta” commentary taking up space that could have been used for characterization or just more of the unique blend of horror and absurdity that permeates the first volume without feeling incoherent. Instead, I just felt irritated and not at all emotionally invested. I may not finish this one for a while, because if the rest of the manga is dominated by this figure that’s more concept than character, on top of his mediocre dialogue, I might not be able to stomach it, but I’m sure this is going places and if nothing else, Fujimoto will always surprise you.

Digimon Dreamers: I guess this was funny and cute, but there’s no chance it doesn’t get cancelled very soon. I chuckled a couple times, but not much else to say. I don’t think it’s a standout in the gag genre (though from my understanding that’s the bread and butter of CoroCoro) and it doesn’t seem to deliver on action either. Feels a little disposable, sadly, though it might interest other Digimon fans.

Iki dekinai wa kimi no sei: I’m still relatively new to the genre, but this might be in the same category as Umibé no Etranger as one of my favorite BL manga. I love the concept, character interactions, and art. I was a bit disappointed that the premise of the manga only really applies to the first volume of which there are three; but I read the second recently and there’s some really solid drama in there while delivering on romance fanservice. I don’t know where it could go from here, but I definitely will check out the mangaka’s other works.

Bokura no tsuzuki: Cute manga with nice sketchy art, an interesting dynamic (it isn't explored too much, but there's this concept of childhood friends who never got along after an accident and the associated guilt, one is a tsundere) and there's also a nice sex scene at the end.

Seiyuu ka!: Wonderfully cathartic and genuinely heartwarming. The sheer charisma and sentimentality of this manga and its main character really struck a chord with me, especially towards the end. I was pretty shocked at how the initially messy three plotlines converged and all resolved in a really satisfying way.

Yofukashi no Uta: Made it through maybe the first “serious” story arc, and what I loved about it is that after it’s over the manga, while feeling deeper on the level of the characters and their interactions, as well as feeling like it has a bit more direction, pretty much can return effortlessly to the lighthearted tone it had before. I was surprised at how well that arc worked by the way, in the sense that it fit in the narrative in a pretty clever way, and delivered on emotions in a way I wouldn’t expect at all from this manga. I’ll get back to the rest eventually, maybe this month.

One Piece: This arc is pretty wild. I like that a lot of the stuff in the story is starting to pay off, and I really like the expansion on the lore.

Dropped

Delicious Party Precure (again): now that hype for the 20th anniversary season Hirogaru Sky Precure is in full force, I tried catching up with Delipre so I could maybe catch the finale on its airdate. That turned out to be more difficult than I thought, as returning to it made me feel even more like I was wasting my time. With the abhorrent designs, cheap looking animation, nonsense episodic plots, and paper thin characters, it’s hard to care too much. The one thing I can praise is the music and the fairy designs. I peeked at the movie too, but it frankly doesn’t look up to standard for TV animation, let alone a feature film, so I think it’s a pass for me. I have hopes for Hirogaru, I guess, but I think my expectations for anime in 2023 are pretty minimal for the time being, not just Toei shows or long running anime but the entire industry. I think on the whole people really haven’t properly factored in the pandemic’s effect since there was still anime released these last 2 (3?) years, but honestly I think we’ll look back on this decade and see that there’s clearly an “anime before COVID” and an “anime after”. Maybe I’m being a bit of a doomer here, but I really don’t find this too disheartening, since it’s an excuse for me to seriously tackle older anime as I’ve always been meaning to do.

Hamtaro: I still find this cute but even though the show looks pretty good and consistent, it isn’t exactly visually impressive and the plots are hit or miss. I can see myself coming back for the movies or even watching a few more episodes eventually, though.

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

I don't think people are giving lavinia enough love so allow me to start: could someone write a fic where mc gets hurt by someone and lavinia just sort of...snaps? Afterwards she comforts mc making sure she's alright? Thank you in advance!

You had never seen so much rage in Lavinia’s face, not even when she had discovered someone had trampled with the spell on her heart. You squint, dazed, mind too numb to remember what was wrong but still alert enough to recognize her expression.

There was something unhinged about it now, nothing but a murderous avalanche, and for a second you feel something spark within you at the sight. Your body is already moving, automatically seeking to match Lavinia’s rage with pure stubbornness, before your mind finally registers the fact that her ire isn’t directed at you at all.

“Oh,” you mumble, logic trying to pierce through the fog ruling your mind. “Why—”

Lavinia’s saying something. No, she’s screaming it, body heaving with the force of it, and you wonder why you can’t hear her until the raging wind that you had been somehow ignoring until now hits you with its full, frigid force, and what the hell is happening why is Lavinia so mad why is your side hurting so damn much—

“Rebecca!”

You fall into someone’s arms. It takes a second for you to recognize Nora, her expression marred by sheer terror, eyes wide and trembling like a crumbling autumn leaf under the first snow of winter.

She holds you absentmindedly, focused on something behind you before your yelp of pain draws her attention, magic already swirling at her fingertips as she murmurs something under her breath.

“You’re going to be okay, I swear,” she says — her hands are quivering. Maybe it’s from the cold. You hope it’s from the cold, and not something else, someone else.

“Lavinia, why is — what happened?”

“You got attacked by someone and—” she freezes for a split second when she sees the yellow glow on her hands before frowning, her earlier fear melting away by her usual laser-sharp focus. “No wonder you’re so out of it! The blade she used was cursed!”

“Oh, yey, another curse.”

“This is going to sting.”

“What? Wait, what are you going—?”

Nora is always prepared, it seems. Your gaze locks on the potion she’s suddenly holding, worried by its grey color, but Nora has already turned it over before you can express your concerns. For a second it feels as if someone has injected atmosphere-cold into your veins, and your mouth opens in a soundless scream before everything suddenly becomes clearer.

Right, right, you had been in the forest with Lavinia, trying to get through her — for the third time this week, by the way, because the Ice Queen was determined to avoid you and was being frustratingly successful in doing so — when there had been this flash of red and blinding pain. Nora must have been close by… collecting herbs, maybe?

You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to ignore the pain coating your side, and turn your head at the right time to see Lavinia slamming another woman onto the floor as if she were nothing but a broken doll, specks of snow thrown into the wind by the impact. At some point during the fight, Lavinia had turned the forest clearing into an ice ring, adding a whole blizzard on top. The snow swirled around her like angry, tiny knives, and you had no doubt the other woman hadn’t stood a chance.

A small shiver ran down your spine, not of fear, but of the pure awe, rushing into your soul like spring water.

“This is all I can manage. My magic is limited here,” Lavinia had explained not too long ago, blue eyes twinkling soft and distant like moonlight, and you wonder how much she is really capable of if this is all she can work with right now. What would she be able to do in her world? What could she do with the sheer force of winter at her beck and call?

You can’t help but marvel over the thought, at how your body feels light and small when you contemplate it.

But then her eyes snap in your direction, two tiny pinpricks of pure rage, her gaze carrying the power and danger of a natural disaster. There’s a small flicker of a season change — of a thaw — when she sees you’re okay, but it disappears when she focuses on the person beside you. Time seems to slow down.

For a second you think the situation is going to escalate horribly. For a second you think the blonde might have mistaken Nora’s help for another attack, and by the way Lavinia’s hand twitches that’s her first impression, but she remains frozen on her spot like a faraway, pale star. She’s still half-crunched over her opponent’s unconscious body.

Slowly — very, very slowly, as if fate threatened to cut her string as soon as she made a sudden movement — Nora edges away from you. “I— I’ll just… go.”

Lavinia’s shoulders lose their tension as if hit by summer’s heat. She nods, stiffly. “Thank you.”

Nora spares a look at you, laying on frost-coated grass and propelled by your elbows like a bad model from some cheap magazine, and seems relieved you’re no longer in danger, disappearing a second later.

Lavinia is next to you immediately, frowning at the gash there. It isn’t bleeding, even though you both know it should. The Ice Queen leans forward ever so slightly, her touch feather-soft, and you’re struck by how different she is now. A moment ago, she had been a merciless avalanche, a Wendigo wreaking havoc, but now the genuine softness and worry in her eyes make you want to melt. You can’t help but lean into her, letting her act as your anchor.

She pauses when you flinch at her gentle touch near your wound. She frowns.

“She used a Velbetro infusion? But that would mean you were—”

You catch the way her eyes flicker towards the discarded weapon that had injured you, a dark shadow falling over expression. You guess what she’s going to say. Your hand cups her cheek, applying just enough pressure to make her look at you again, and the sweet surprise that thaws any dark thoughts she was about to have makes your skin buzz with energy.

“Slowly amassing an impressive collection of curses? You bet I am.”

She blinks, taken aback, the twitch at the corner of her lips indicating she found your snark reassuring. “Might want to dial it back a little, then, chaos girl. Good thing the Velbetro neutralized this one.” She focuses on your side, again. “How’s the sting?”

Truth be told, with her so close — too close — the pain had taken a secondary priority. Now that she reminded you of it, the pain crawled back with a vengeance. Once again, Lavinia remains an anchor as your hand tightens on her arm, nails digging into her skin. To her credit, the blonde doesn’t even blink.

“That bad?” She asks, tone surprisingly kind. “Let’s wait a moment, then. We need to go back to your house and dress the wound before the effect disappears though. You’ll start bleeding then — and badly.”

“Yey, yet another thing to look forward to.”

“…I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. I would have been able to prevent—”

“It’s fine.”

“It should have been obvious, though. Of course she’d take the chance to hunt me down when my magic is weak, and of course she’d target you—”

“Your magic isn’t weak at all, you totally schooled her!”

“Only because she was too distracted gloating. I—”

“I’m fine, Lavinia. C’mon, help me get to my house.”

Her eyes are faraway portals of grief, but she nods anyway, falling quiet as she helps you up with extreme care. The way back is silent, fast. You hadn’t been too far from your house to begin with. Lavinia loops an arm around your waist and presses you to her, expression stony and neutral, but you’re still eternally grateful to her.

[biggest-stupidhead]

Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 11

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend? 

Word Count: 8.2K (longest one yet) 

__

The next few days flew by in a snowy blur. Most of your time was spent wrapping gifts and packaging baked goods to deliver to family friends. You grunted as you leaned heavily on top of the Tupperware container as you shoved in more sugar cookies. This particular batch was going to Erwin's coach and his family. The sound of wrapping paper tearing made you cringe, turning around you saw Hange holding up the two uneven lengths of paper. She smiled sheepishly at you before shrugging and taping the pieces together once more. Your mom and Erwin were currently out shopping at the mall, which was a good hour away from the hick town you lived in.

You and Hange had already been out shopping the other day. It had been very stressful shopping for all your friends and family. You were glad to have gotten the ordeal over with. Although it was stressful, you had enjoyed picking out the perfect gift for your loved ones. Some highlights included: a camera lense for Armin, a set of chain necklaces for Mikasa, a turkey hat for Sasha, a safari hat for Connie, and your personal favorite was a set of fancy tea cups for Levi.

You really had outdone yourself this year, even going as far as buying Erwin supplies that he would need for College. For Hange you had purchased her a fresh set of glassware for her experiments, since she was majoring in Chemistry and enjoyed doing work outside of the classroom you thought it was a fitting gift. Hange held up her finished product proudly, judging by the size of the box you guessed it was a pair of shoes.

"I can't wait to give these to him!" she gushed as she set the box to the side and began folding a sweater that the two of you had purchased for your mom.

"Yeah I'm sure he'll love them." you agreed. You weren't the only one who had splurged this year. Hange had bought Erwin a fresh pair of cleats for his freshman season at college.

"I hope so!" she chuckled as she boxed the sweater and the pair of earrings for your mom.

"What did you ask for this year?" you asked as you set the stuffed container of cookies to the side.

"Oh nothing special." Hange waved her hand dismissively. You weren't surprised, she wasn't exactly interested in possessions. She valued knowledge above most things, so the closest you could get to filling that need was to give her books or items that helped her learn and shit. You had learned that the hard way, a few years ago you had given her a nice bracelet, which was currently collecting dust on her dresser.

"Well what about your parents, are they doing something special this year?" you inquired, you knew that she had learned to appreciate knowledge from them. They used to go on trips and spend Christmas soaking up the culture of wherever they went. One of their most notable trips was to South America, Hange's favorite trip to date. They hiked in the jungle and learned about the environment and shit.

"Aw sadly no, they wanted to take a break and focus on their research here." She shrugged as she wrapped the box in snowman wrapping paper.

"Really?" you mused, although Hange's family was unconventional you admired their free spirit.

"Yeah, I'm particularly interested in my mom's project, she's studying these penguins in South America right now-" she continued to ramble on about her mother's studies and her father's work. Both of her parents were very active in the zoology community. Hange's rant was cut short by the sound of her phone ringing, she apologized before answering the call, walking out of the room for some privacy. Which you thought was odd, she usually wasn't so private with her phone calls, which at times could be annoying. You brushed it off as most likely being a conversation about gifts. You picked up your phone, taking the opportunity to answer the text that Mikasa had sent you earlier that morning.

"We'll be over around 7." her text made you feel giddy with excitement. Although this year would be a bit different you were still excited to see all your friends.

"See you soon!" you responded, you realized that it was probably a good idea to start dinner for your mom. She should be home any minute but still you set about preheating the oven for the casserole and the ham. Thankfully the Jeagers brought dishes as well, Carla made a mean pumpkin pie. You weren't expecting Kenny to bring anything other than booze. You fell into an easy rhythm as you prepared the vegetable casserole. It couldn't have been more than an hour later that your mom and Erwin stumbled in the door and dropped the bags down by the card table where we had been wrapping gifts. Your mom was quick to wash her hands and start the mashed potatoes as you checked the ham. Hange had began to set the table with Erwin, a christmas playlist had been playing to set the mood.

The Jeagers arrived right at 7, just in time. Grisha's arms were full with gifts, Carla toted two pies, Eren held a board game, and Mikasa had two bottles of red wine with ribbons around the necks of the bottles. Hugs and formalities were exchanged as they entered and put their gifts under the tree. Carla joined your mom in the kitchen to finish carving the ham. You and the other teens finished setting the table as everyone trickled into the dining room.

Just as the ham was placed on the table and glasses of wine were poured, the doorbell rang once more. Kenny had arrived, surprisingly only thirty minutes late. He had a huge bottle of vodka and another sizable bottle of whiskey. Your mom greeted him, taking the liquor from him and pointing him to his seat. Now that all guests were accounted for you began to dish out food and recount the past holidays that your families spent together. It didn't go unnoticed that Kenny was a tad uncomfortable, but thanks to Grisha's easy going nature and Carla's friendliness, he slowly eased up. Of course you and the other teens had your own conversation separate from the adults.

"-Do you remember that one year that I creamed you guys in Just Dance?" Hange gloated as she waved a forkful of ham in Eren's face.

"Ugh yes, but only because that was the year that Mikasa's ankle was sprained." Eren deflected, lifting his own fork to push hers from his face. Mikasa blushed and shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

"Well I guess we'll just have to see if that was the real reason after a rematch!" Hange teased before biting into the hunk of meat.

"I guess we will." Eren narrowed his eyes as he watched Hange chew the meat.

"We should play Mario Kart first, I want to redeem myself." Armin was quick to change the subject. Always quick to avoid possible conflict.

"Yeah I totally creamed you last time!" you gloated a cocky smile on your lips.

"W-What! No I had the most wins!" Eren's eyes were alight with anger. He was too easy to piss off.

"Wrong!" you said in a sing song voice.

"Knock it off you two." Erwin scolded from across the table, Eren's cheeks flushed when Erwin scolded him but you simply rolled your eyes. In the last few months Erwin had taken to hovering over you and your friends. It was strange, he had never shown so much interest in your social life until recently. At first you had been eager to tell him what was going on in your friend group, but now it was becoming annoying.

"Lay off Erwin, it's all talk." you scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Erwin's eyes hardened at your snarky tone, your guests eyes flickered between the two of you as you glared at one another. Until finally you snorted and looked away with a shake of your head.

"Uh...so who wants pie!" Armin, ever true to his anti confrontation nature filled the thick silence between the teens. Meanwhile the adults had continued to yammer on about all the hot hospital gossip.

"I-I would." Eren played into Armin's excuse to change the subject.

"Yeah sounds good." you sighed, defeated. Armin scrambled out of his seat and ducked into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with the pies. He dished out three pieces onto you and Eren's plates before serving himself. By the time he had returned, Hange had already changed the topic to the party the following day. You sat in silence as she rambled about the logistics for the party at your house.

"I think that Nanaba is bringing mac and cheese, Mike is probably going to bring those snicker doodles that he always makes-" You tuned her out, not interested in her current rant. Tomorrow's party wasn't the party you were really excited for. So you instead turned to Mikasa, hoping to talk about your plans for the 26th.

"So what time are you going to Annie's? Would you like to ride together?" you asked as you angled yourself to face her to better tune out Hange.

"We are heading over around 9, and sure I'm driving." Mikasa responded as she stretched to serve herself a piece of pie.

"Perfect, are you spending the night there?" you quizzed, unsure if you also wanted to spend the night there.

"No, we were going to go back to Armin's but I can drop you off here if you want." Mikasa answered as she took a bite of pie.

"Alright that sounds good!" you agreed, knowing that Mikasa was always a reliable designated driver.

__

Dinner had gone relatively smooth, despite the tension that now hung in the atmosphere between you and Erwin. The rest of the evening was spent in the living room opening gifts with a Christmas movie marathon playing in the background. The Jeagers left around eleven, which was later than they usually stayed. Kenny took the guest bedroom in the basement, since he was spending Christmas day with your family anyway. You checked your phone with a heavy sigh, already it was twelve am. You contemplated texting Levi to tell him happy birthday, but you weren't sure he would be awake. It was already six in the morning in France, and usually he got his three hours of sleep between four and seven in the morning. But you decided that if he didn't answer you could leave him a voicemail or shoot him a text. So after you changed into your pajamas and had snuggled beneath your covers, you pulled up Levi's contact, your thumb hovering over the small phone icon. Finally you just said 'fuck it' and pressed the button, the phone rang three times before he answered.

"Hey." his voice was thick and gravely as he spoke, immediately you felt bad. You knew that you must have woken him up and you cringed internally.

"Hey happy birthday!" you greeted, making sure to keep your voice low so you wouldn't disturb Erwin and Hange.

"Tch thanks." Levi mumbled, you pictured him running a hand down his face as he tried to wake up.

"you're welcome birthday boy." you teased as you fell back onto your pillows.

"shut up." Levi scoffed, you could hear his footsteps as he walked through the apartment, presumably to get his morning cup of black tea.

"you know you love it." you sighed.

"keep telling yourself that." Levi's voice was becoming clearer now that he was more awake.

"I think that I will." you answered with a light laugh.

"you still going to that party tomorrow?" Levi interrogated, you groaned. You had almost forgotten how he liked to stick his nose in your business, even when he was across the fucking ocean.

"Yeah what about it?" you huffed, feeling a bit defensive.

"Shouldn't you stay with your family or some shit." Levi sounded frustrated.

"My mom said I could go." you pouted childishly.

"Whatever." Levi grunted, and you frowned, unsure of where his frustration was coming form.

"Aw come on no need to be jealous, I'm sure you can find some rager in Paris. Not like you'll be missing much here." you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hmph." Levi scoffed, you could hear the tinkling of his spoon as he stirred his tea.

"So....when are you due to be home?" you asked, deciding it was best to change the subject.

"Next week." Levi's tone was clipped.

"I'm so jealous." you sighed dreamily.

"Yeah Paris is way better than Shiganshina." Levi responded nonchalantly, you weren't sure if he was being serious or sarcastic. Either way he was telling the truth.

"No need to rub it in my face." you chuckled.

"Tch." He scoffed, you liked to imagine him smiling as he did so, even if he wasn't.

"Well I hope that this next week goes by fast, as much as I hate to admit it I've... missed you." you confessed, the tips of your ears scorching hot with embarrassment. The silence was deafening as you waited for him to say something, hell anything even if it was making fun of you.

"Whatever." he huffed, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered at the sound of his baritone voice.

"Just don't stay out late tomorrow." he quipped and you frowned, why did he care how late you stayed out?

"No need to worry about me, I'll probably just stay sober with Mikasa." You told him, only half honest.

"Never said I was worried about you." Levi sighed.

"Hmph fine be like that." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, not surprised with his response.

"Be like what?" He asked, genuinely curious what you meant.

"Like an ass." you quipped.

"Tch I'll quite being an ass when you stop being such a brat." Levi snapped, clearly you were approaching dangerous territory.

"Okay okay chill." you muttered, backing down before things got too heated.

"You're the one that brought it up.." Levi pointed out.

"Yeah and now I'm regretting that" you sighed, wishing he wouldn't be so stubborn for once. He sighed as well and you heard a small clatter on his end of the line, you figured he was starting the dishes.

"Look I've got some shit to do, I'll call you later okay?" Levi's voice was a tad strained and in the moment of silence you heard the sound of Isabel and Farlan bickering in hushed tones.

"Y-Yeah sure of course." you couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.

"Happy birthday Levi." you wished him once more.

"Thanks, talk to you later brat." and with that he hung up, leaving you totally alone in your dark room. You plugged your phone in and rolled over onto your side, he could be so annoying. You inhaled sharply and decided that you would enjoy the party tomorrow to it's fullest. What he didn't know wouldn't kill him.

___

"Hey can I borrow your lip gloss?" you asked Mikasa as you leaned forward to apply another coat of mascara to your lashes.

"Sure which one?" she asked as she pulled her hair into high pigtails on top of her head.

"The cherry one." you answered after a moment of contemplation. She finished her hair before reaching into her makeup bag and pulled out the tube of clear gloss.

"Thanks." you said as you took the make up from her. You didn't usually put this much effort into your appearance when you went to parties but you figured since it was the first time you would be going to Annie's that this was a special occasion. Also you had a sneaking suspicion that two of your exes would be there and you at least wanted to look hot if you were going to get black out.

Plus Mikasa was also dressed up, she wore a tight fitting black top with long sleeves and a low cut neck line that showed off her pale collarbones and neck. She had chosen to wear a choker that had metallic studs surrounding the black leather along with some other layered necklaces. To match her top she had selected a red plaid skirt and some torn tights. You weren't dressed nearly as edgy as she was, but you too had gone for a grungier look. You'd opted to wear a tattered pair of mom jeans along with a black cropped tank and an oversized flannel to cover your shoulders.

You sighed as you finished applying the gloss and frowned, Eren and Armin were in the next room over blasting Post Malone. You assumed that Eren was on aux since Armin usually listened to Surfaces or Khalid.

"You ready?" Mikasa asked as she pulled on her Doc Martens and double checked her earrings.

"Yeah." you assured her as you stood up to grab your small backpack with an extra change of comfy clothes in case you ended up staying the night. The two of you left the room and knocked on Eren's door that was down the hall.

"Just a minute!" Armin's shrill voice sounded a bit panicked but Mikasa simply shrugged and headed towards the kitchen. The Jeager's house was a ranch style house with one main floor and a nice basement. The two of you waited patiently in the kitchen for the boys, it was already well past nine. You scrolled through your snapchat, most of the stories were the regular group picture of friends having a sleepover, the druggie kids showing off their weed, and of course Sasha and Connie posted a video showcasing the house party at Annie's. From what the short video showed, her house was dark except for some LED lights that flashed through multiple different colors. The music was deafening, and the kids that you could see seemed to be swaying to the pulsing music.Sasha spun the camera around as she knocked back a shot with her arm around Connie who blew a puff of vapor at the camera.

"Looks fun." Mikasa scoffed, you knew that she preferred more low-key parties.

"If you end up not liking it we can always dip." You shrugged, knowing that this wasn't exactly your speed either. Mikasa hummed in agreement and turned to look down the hallway as Eren's door opened. The boys emerged from Eren's room, Eren wore a pair of black jeans and a dark forrest green long sleeved shirt. Armin wore a baby blue knit sweater with a collared shirt underneath and black jeans as well.

"All set?" Mikasa asked as she turned to pull out a bottle of titos with a cute little sweater over it. You smiled at the cute accessory and nodded.

"Yep!" you said popping the p as the four of you all made your way out to Eren's car. You slid into the back seat next to Armin who was fiddling with the hem of his sweater nervously. Eren resumed his hype music as Mikasa backed out of the drive way. Eren pulled out his puff bar as soon as the car was out of the drive and took a long drag. Mikasa scoffed and cracked the window for him. He blew the billow of smoke out the window and reached to turn the music up. He reached back and dangled the puff for you to take, after a brief moment of hesitation you accepted it and cracked your window before taking a hit. Armin watched with wide eyes as you inhaled and blew the vapor out the crack.

"Since when did you vape?" Armin asked, his mouth agape in awe.

"I don't...at least not regularly." You admitted sheepishly.

"That's what they all say." Eren chuckled, smoke curling out from his lips as he smirked.

"Shut up I'm serious!" you snapped a playful smile on your face. Thankfully Annie's house wasn't far away, about a twenty minute drive. You pulled up to the house, it was huge. Standing at least three stories tall, with a long winding driveway. Mikasa pulled up behind one of the many cars in the drive way and parked the car. Mikasa led the way around to the side door, which was unlocked, piled of shoes littered the hallway. The sound of loud music greeted you as you walked into the kitchen on the main floor to set the alcohol you'd brought down. The real party was in the basement.

The lights were off, leaving the only source of light to be the flickering LED lights, you couldn't even tell who was who. The air was heavy with the mingling aromas of cologne, vapes, and weed. Armin practically clung to you as the four of you waded through the crowd to get to the seating area in the center of the room. As you got closer the overpowering scent of weed assaulted your nose. There on the large L shaped couch was Annie, she held a large bong to her lips as Bertolt held the lighter under the weed, she inhaled deeply and the bong bubbled. She pulled back and blew a puff of smoke right in Reiner's face, the blonde's face scrunched up in disgust as he turned away to cough.

"Yo." Annie greeted Mikasa who leaned down to dap her up. Once Annie had greeted Mikasa she turned her attention to Eren who was eyeing the bong.

"You want a drag?" Annie offered, patting the sofa next to her. Eren nodded and dropped down between her and Bertolt, who once again struck the lighter for Eren. Mikasa rolled her eyes and waited patiently for Eren to finish his drag. Once the bong was out of the way she lowered herself down onto his lap and pulled her puff bar out to take a long drag. Armin shifted awkwardly behind you and tugged on your sleeve.

"Want to go get something to drink?" he yelled over the booming music, you glanced at the bong longingly but decided that Armin needed you right now so you nodded in agreement.

"Sure." the two of you pushed through the crowd to the minibar where an impressive amount of liquor was waiting. You poured some Bacardi into a glass of and added some pineapple and orange concentrates before handing the cup to Armin. He thanked you and quickly got to work on finishing the mixed drink. You poured yourself a rum and coke and then two shots of Malibu for you and Armin to take. The two of you knocked back the shots before wandering back over towards the couch. The crowd had thinned out a bit, something about watching a movie in Annie's in home movie theater.

"-No that's bullshit, I know for a fact that you pissed your pants in the second grade Eren!" your eyebrows shot into your hairline at the words leaving Annie's mouth.

"Just because I'm quiet doesn't mean I don't notice shit." She huffed as she lifted the juul in her hand to her lips and took a long drag.

"I-"

"Just take the L Eren we all remember." Bertolt shook his head and chuckled at Eren's flushed cheeks. You glanced at Mikasa, usually she would defend Eren but she seemed content to let him struggle through this one on his own, still perched on his lap.

"We've all had accidents before." Armin said with an awkward chuckle as he sat down beside Annie, who looked at him with a blank expression.

"Like that time you tripped down the stairs and broke both your legs in fourth grade?" Annie quipped, a small smirk curling onto her lips. You choked on your drink at Annie's remark, she was an absolute savage.

"Exactly..." Armin flushed, lifting his own cup to his lips. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you were too invested in the conversation to be bothered to pick it up.

"Want a hit?" Annie offered the bong to you, you nodded. Although you'd never had weed before, you'd tried asking Levi for some of his but he always denied you. Annie held her hand out to Bertolt who placed the lighter in his open palm. She packed some more weed into the bowl before handing you the bong.

"You ever done this before?" She asked as she kneeled in front of you. You shook your head,

"Okay so I'll tell you when to inhale, and you've got to take a huge breath so you can get the smoke in your system. But then you'll have to take another breath to get it in your lungs." she instructed as she pressed the weed deeper into the bowl.

"Okay." you agreed, she nodded and struck the lighter, holding the flame over the weed in the bowl. You pressed your lips to the mouth piece and waited for her instructions.

"Inhale." she said once the weed was lit. You sucked in a big breath and the water in the bong bubbled. The smoke burned the insides of your throat as you inhaled it, you pulled the bong off your mouth and sucked in once more to get the smoke into your lungs. She nodded in approval as you coughed, smoke curling out of your mouth.

"Not bad for your first time." she commented as she took the bong from you and passed it to Mikasa who took a long drag before passing it to Bertolt.

"Thanks, that stuff burns." you coughed, Annie sat down next to you on the couch and draped her arm over the back. You felt the buzz from the weed and the shots you'd taken earlier, making your head spin a bit. Annie's thigh brushed against your own, you tried to focus on what she was wearing, a pair of grey sweats and a cute cropped peachy colored tank top with spaghetti straps.

"I like your top." you complimented, her hand fell from the back of the couch to your shoulders.

"Thanks." she said, turning to gauge your reaction to her touch. You swallowed a bit nervously, you'd known Annie since kindergarten, but you'd never really been friends before, she was always so quiet.

"I always thought you were a good kid." Annie smirked, her eyes a bit playful.

"What made you think that?" You giggled, shuffling closer to her.

"Your brother is like the school's golden boy, and you are always in all the honors classes." she shrugged, you frowned. You were used to people coming up with these assumptions. She was right though, you did take honor classes, but that didn't mean you couldn't party!

"I guess...But that doesn't mean that I don't enjoy partying." you countered.

"I suppose." she chuckled, taking a hit from her juul and blowing the smoke away from your face. Your phone rang in your pocket and you frowned, as you dug it out of your pocket. Your frown deepened at the sight of Hange's contact lighting up your screen.

"Hang on I should take this." you apologized, moving to stand up to find a quiet place to answer the phone. Annie snatched your wrist and pulled you back down on the sofa, the room spun as you fell back down and slumped against her shoulder.

"Slow down there sweetheart." Annie chuckled as you leaned against her.

"I got to go answer my-"

"Nah just stay here, enjoy yourself." Annie pulled you closer, but your head was too foggy to protest, thoughts of your phone already fading into the back of your mind as Annie held the bong to your lips once more.

__

"She's still not answering." Hange chewed on her knuckle as she glanced at Erwin who was gripping the steering wheel. His brows were knit tightly together with worry, Levi shifted in the back seat, tapping his fingers impatiently.

"This is stupid, she can wait until tomorrow to see me." Levi huffed, trying his best to sound indifferent.

"Oh don't say that Levi." Hange frowned as she looked back at Levi, her eyes deep with worry.

"Don't worry about it." Levi grunted, turning his attention back to his phone. He opened snapchat, and scrolled through the stories. His eyes widened slightly when he stopped on Sasha's story, the video of the party played, he found himself looking for your silhouette among the swaying bodies. He tapped on his screen, expecting to move on to the next story, only to find a new video, added to her story less than ten minutes ago. A video of you with a red solo cup in one hand, and a juul in the other. You were leaned up against a blonde girl who was pushing a bottle of Pink Whitney against you, the pink alcohol sloshing in the glass.

"Come on (Y/n) finish it off!" Sasha encouraged as the other kids on the couch picked up on her chant.

"Finish it, Finish it." the crowd cheered as you sat down the cup and took the bottle from the blonde. You looked at the camera as Sasha shuffled closer.

"No pa-paparazzi please." you giggled, hiccuping half way through your sentence. You lifted the bottle to your lips and tilted your head back, the liquid spilled down your front, making your skin glisten in the colorful lights as you chugged the alcohol you managed to get in your mouth.

"Fuck yeah!!!" Sasha jeered, spinning the camera around to her face. The video ended and Levi felt his blood boil. He'd never seen you so out of it before and he hated it. He hated how easily you had given into doing something so stupid, he hated the sight of the juul in your fist, he hated the way the girl's arm was tightly wrapped around your waist, but most of all he hated that he wasn't there.

"Wait, I think Sasha's snap map is on." Hange mumbled, her phone screen casting a pale glow over her glasses as she zoomed in on Sasha's bitmoji. Sure enough Sasha's bitmoji was on the map, surrounded by at least twenty other bitmojis gathered in one location.

"Okay let's head that way then." Erwin sighed as he started the car and backed out of his parking spot in the airport parking lot. Erwin pulled out of the small airport that was about thirty minutes away from your town and set off towards Annie's house. Thankfully Annie lived on the outskirts of town so it wasn't as far of a drive. It wasn't long before Erwin was pulling up a long winding drive that was full of cars. He parked at the back of the line of cars and got out of the car with a heavy slam of his door. Levi slammed the back door of the minivan as hard as he could, the two of them marched up the driveway silently with Hange following nervously.

"You guys please slow down it's icy out here." Hange begged as she slipped on one of the steps to the side door. The three of them piled into the house, Hange knew it was bad when Levi didn't bother to kick his shoes off before continuing towards the basement steps. Erwin stormed down the steps, the music getting louder as they descended. Erwin paused at the bottom of the steps to take in the scene, cups littered the floor, the room was hazy with smoke from juuls and the scent of weed clung to the air. A group of partygoers was crowded onto the couch, Levi's eyes narrowed onto the back of your head.

"Yoooo that's ice cold." Eren's loud voice could be heard over the music as the teens passed the bong between one another.

"No it's the truth." you slurred, the empty bottle of alcohol still in your fist.

"Well sorryyy that I forgot that I had gum in my mouth." Connie said, waving his hands in front of his face.

"You're an idiot." Sasha laughed boisterously as she shoved a handful of pretzels into her mouth.

"damn straight." Annie agreed, taking the empty bottle from you and setting it on the coffee table. Erwin stalked across the room and stood behind Bertolt, who was now on the floor. The conversation came to a halt at the sight of the uninvited guests.

"Woah I think I'm seeing things." you said, tilting your head downwards as you tried to understand why you were seeing your brother.

"Me too." Reiner agreed, his own distant gaze honing in on his team captain.

"Get up we're going home." Erwin's voice was cold and commanding as he glowered at you.

"I don't wanna leave." your eyes hardened with denial. Erwin stepped over Bertolt, once he had moved your eyes landed on Levi, who was glaring at you with those dark eyes.

"I'm definitely seeing things." you grunted as Erwin pulled you off the couch and away from Annie's warmth.

"Hey man she said she didn't want to go." Annie snarled, jumping to her feet, her icy blue eyes sharp.

"Yeah well she's drunk as shit and doesn't know what she's saying." Levi snapped back at Annie, who had a hand clamped down around your arm. Hange shifted nervously behind the couch as she watched the scene unfold.

"You need to leave." Annie growled, pointing a finger at the stairs.

"That's what we're trying to do dumb ass." Levi growled, taking a step closer to the circle of teens.

"Leave her alone she can make her own decisions." Reiner quipped, rising to his own feet.

"Stay out of this Braun." Erwin ordered, releasing you so he could turn and face Reiner.

"I'm just saying, she chose to come here on her own and she's enjoying herself so let her be." Reiner shrugged.

"She's had enough tonight." Erwin countered, shifting his gaze back to you as you swayed on your feet.

"No I haven't" you frowned up at Erwin.

"Yes you have. We're leaving end of discussion." he said with finality, once more reaching for your wrist.

"I'm not leaving Erwin." you protested, pulling yourself free from his grasp. He snatched your wrist once more and tugged you away from the circle. You gasped and stumbled after him, the protests of your friends echoing loudly in your head. Erwin hauled you up the stairs and out the side door, Levi and Hange close on your heels. He only slowed once you were walking down the driveway. You wrenched yourself free once more with a strangled cry.

"I said I don't want to leave!" you screamed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks.

"You always embarrass me in front of my friends just give me this one night!" you cried, the cold air making your face beet red.

"You'll thank me later." He said simply before turning to continue down the driveway.

"No I won't I'm going back inside." you turned on your heel and marched back towards the door, only for Levi to catch your wrist.

"You've had enough for one night." He scolded as you struggled against his hold. Hange chewed on her bottom lip with worry at the sight, this was not how she planned your reunion.

"Levi let me go." you said with finality as you met his eyes.

"No, you're going home." Levi's voice was tense.

"No I'm not."

"(Y/n) you're going home and that's final." Erwin sighed, running a hand down the side of his face. You spun around and glared at him.

"You're not my fucking dad Erwin so quit acting like it! Jesus it's so annoying I'm tired of it!" you screamed, your chest heaving with frustration, your breath coming out with puffs of vapor. Hange and Levi stood deathly still, knowing that the topic of your father was a sensitive one.

"Fine be that way." Erwin snarled and marched to the van and climbed in with a slam of his door. Hange rushed to get in the car without a second glance over her shoulder. Levi remained firmly rooted to the ground, his hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist as you cried.

"Get out of here Levi." you sobbed, shaking your arm to throw his hand off. He finally let you go, his head tilted down to the ground. You huffed, wrapping your arms around your chest before turning on your heel and stalking back towards the house. Levi stood there a moment longer just listening to the sound of your receding footsteps before he padded back to Erwin's car and slid into the backseat.

__

Your head was spinning as you pressed your back against the bathroom door, your lip quivering as you tried to contain your tears. You knew that you'd hurt both Erwin's and Levi's feelings, you also knew that they were only trying to help you. But there was only so much help you could except from them without them toeing the line between helpful and overbearing. You slid down the door with a whimper, you hugged you knees to your chest and rested your chin on top of them. A knock startled you out of your moping,

"(Y/n)? You in there?" You groaned when you recognize Jean's voice.

"Open the door please." He said softly and you felt more tears fall down your cheeks as you reached up for the knob to unlock the door. The lock clicked and you shuffled to lean agains the wall so he could open the door.

"Hey" he said as he stuck his head in, his amber eyes soft with worry.

"Hey" you sniffled, turning your head up to meet his gaze.

"What's wrong?" He asked, slipping into the small bathroom and closing the door behind him. He crouched down in front of you, his elbows propped on his own knees as he got onto your level.

"Well for starters, you kissed someone else when we were talking." you said a bit venomously. He cringed and plopped down to sit criss cross applesauce instead.

"I'm sorry I know that I shouldn't have done that but, I've been really confused....like sexually I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and your frowned.

"I know, but it still hurt my feelings." you mumbled, a few fresh tears falling from your watery eyes.

"I shouldn't have led you on like that, it was a real jerk move." Jean agreed, his eyes still soft and comforting. You'd missed being his friend you realized as you sat on the cold tile.

"I've missed talking to you." you spoke your mind, managing a small smile.

"Me too, let's be friends again?" he proposed, offering his hand to you. Your smile grew wider as you extended your own hand to grasp his. You shook hands briefly.

"So are you and Marco a couple now?" you asked.

"Sort of.." Jean chuckled.

"You want to go back to the party now?" He asked, jutting a thumb towards the door. You nodded, although now you were beginning to sober up. He stood and offered his hands to help you to your feet. You accepted his hands and he pulled you to your feet. The two of you walked slowly down the steps to rejoin the circle of teens in the living room. Jean stopped at the bottom of the stairs his hand held loosely in your own. He squeezed your hand, asking for your attention. You turned and faced him, a questioning look on your face.

"You've got some-" He chuckled, lifting his thumb to his mouth and licking it before wiping away some rogue mascara off your cheeks. You gasped in mock offense as he wiped away the makeup.

"You're not my mom." you teased, pulling your face free as you turned to head back into the fray, trusting that Jean got all the black marks off your face.

"Nobody could replace Angie." Jean agreed as he followed you into the basement. The group of previously rowdy teens was now subdued due to your brother and his meddling party crasher friends.

"Hey look who's back!" Reiner greeted, causing all the heads to turn back to you. You smiled sheepishly and dropped back into your seat next to Annie.

"You alright?" She asked, her eyes scanning you meticulously for any signs of injury.

"Yeah I'm- I'll be alright." you stumbled over your words as the group watched you carefully.

"You want a uh beer or something?" Connie asked, lifting up an unopened can.

"No she doesn't you idiot!" Sasha snapped, elbowing Connie harshly.

"Ow well I was just trying to make her feel better!" Connie cried, turning to tackle Sasha. The two began to tussle, rolling around on the floor grunting as they struggled. You smiled, the pair never failed to make you happy. Annie draped her arm over you again as the boys began to place bets on who would come out victorious.

"If Sasha wins you've got to drink one of Connie's mixed drinks!" Eren said, leaning over to Bertolt who scoffed, his boyish features contorting with disgust. Connie was known for making the worst mixed drinks.

"You're on Jeager." he reached over Reiner and the two shook in agreement before turning their attention to the scuffle.

"Come on Sasha!" Eren jeered as Sasha bit down hard on Connie's hand. The boy yelped and tried to desperately pry her locked jaws off his hand. He gave up quickly and resorted to hitting her head with his closed fist, his face wild with panic.

"Tickle her neck" Mikasa suggested as she lifted a red solo cup to her lips. Your eyes widened in surprise, Mikasa usually kept quiet during these scuffles, unless of course it was Eren being thrown around. Connie's free hand flew down to Sasha's armpit and immediately Sasha released his other hand to roll away from him. Connie regained the upper hand, pinning Sasha beneath him as he tickled her ruthlessly. Jean groaned and slapped a wad of bills into Reiner's open palm as Sasha slapped the ground in defeat. Connie threw his hands into the air and rolled off Sasha who was fighting for breath.

"Traitor" she moaned, her brown eyes glaring at Mikasa who shrugged indifferently. Eren groaned and frowned at Mikasa.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked as Bertolt looked relieved. Mikasa shrugged once more a sly smile on her face as Eren pushed her off his lap.

"So" Connie jumped to his feet and clapped his hands together.

"About that drink." he turned and strutted over to the mini bar, followed by a sulking Eren and a smug Bertolt. You turned to Sasha who was now straddling Mikasa her hands around Mikasa's shoulders as she jostled the girl.

"Come on Mikasa why'd you sell me out like that?" she whined as she shook the girl, Mikasa's drink sloshing in her cup. Mikasa smiled as her eyes drifted to the group of boys, Connie had a large bottle of Tito's and a two liter of Mt. Dew in his hands as he inspected the two, his face scrunched up with concentration.

"Come on Sasha it's not like you wouldn't do the same if it were me." Mikasa scoffed with a roll of her eyes. You snorted at Mikasa's response, knowing that she was indeed correct. Sasha gasped and shook Mikasa harder.

"I would never do that to you! Besides you would win in any fight you fought." Sasha objected, leaning back on Mikasa's lap her arms extended.

"Psh whatever." Annie scoffed, a playful smirk on her lips.

"Not all of us are masters at kickboxing." Sasha pouted as she climbed off Mikasa's lap and dropped onto the empty space next to her. You knew that Mikasa had participated in the sport for the past few years, but you were confused when Sasha looked between Annie and Mikasa.

"What you didn't know?" Annie asked with a smirk. You shook your head,

"No I guess I don't know." you laughed as Annie licked her lips and she threw her arm back over your shoulders.

"Mikasa and I are on the same kickboxing club." She shrugged as you settled back into her side. Your mouth opened into an 'o' shape in realization as Annie dug her juul out of her pocket and took a hit. Mikasa nodded in agreement, her eyes shifting back over to the boys, who were laughing loudly as Eren chugged a cup of mystery liquid.

"Really? I had no idea." you said as you followed Mikasa's gaze. Eren was now leaned over gagging as Armin patted his back with a worried expression.

"-You dodged a bullet there!" Reiner quipped as he patted Bertolt's back as the tall boy watched with a disgusted face.

"Hey where did Ymir and Krista run off to?" Sasha asked, whipping her head around to look for the pair.

"Probably making out in some corner." Reiner scoffed as he dropped back onto the sofa, the rest of the boys rejoining the group as well. You nodded in agreement, it was no secret that the pair had been seeing each other recently.

"Guess so." Sasha sighed, slumping back into the sofa, throwing a glare at Connie who was now seated next to her with an arm over the back of the couch. Eren and Armin were the only once unaccounted for, you assumed that they had fled to the bathroom given the state Eren had been in after drinking Connie's concoction. Jean had managed to slip away with all the commotion, probably to return to Marco. Annie sighed, glancing at her phone with a frown, it was well past three at this point and you were starting to feel the fatigue.

"Well I think that I'm heading off to bed." Annie yawned, the others seemed to be mellowing out as well.

"You guys can crash here or my brother's room is open as well as my sisters rooms." She said as she stood up. You immediately missed her warmth as she lingered by the couch.

"I call Eric's room!" Sasha perked up, also standing up to run towards Annie's younger brother's room.

"No fair!" Connie yelled, giving chase. Mikasa sighed and stood up as well.

"I'd better go check on Eren and Armin." She mumbled as she stalked off towards the bathroom.

"Are you staying the night then?" Annie asked you as you also stood up, not sure if you should go after Mikasa.

"I'm not sure, Mikasa was going to take me back to her place..."

"You can sleep in my room with me." She offered, tilting her head towards the stairs. You bit your lip as you weighed your options. Mikasa had been drinking and smoking and you knew that she wasn't stupid enough to drive so you figured that you weren't leaving any more.

"We'll sleep in Sarah's room." Reiner said as he and Bertolt began to retreat up the stairs. Leaving just you and Annie in the basement living room, she raised a brow as she waited for your answer.

"No pressure." She said as she began to walk towards the stairs.

"Yeah I'll sleep with you." you blurted as you jogged to catch up to Annie. She smirked at your wording and you flushed.

"Not like that!" you slapped her arm as she led the way up to the top floor which was a maze of closed doors. She slipped into one of the closed doors, into a large bedroom with a queen sized bed in the center of the room. She emptied her pockets before climbing into bed, pulling the covers back for the both of you. You slid into the open side and sat your phone on the bedside table. Annie sighed with relief as she nestled into the covers, scrolling through her phone as you closed your eyes in an attempt to sleep. After a few minutes Annie put her phone down and rolled over, now her front was facing your back.

"You awake?" She whispered, you rolled over to face her as well.

"Yeah" you answered, resting your head on your arm as you focused on her features as best as you could in the dim lighting.

"You wanna make out?" she asked, your eyes widened in shock. You weren't sure if she was being serious or not.

"For real?" you blinked rapidly as Annie shuffled closer and pushed a lock of hair out of your face.

"I mean yeah." she huffed a shy smile on her face. You pursed your lips in thought, you had never kissed a girl before, and it wasn't like the thought of doing so had never crossed your mind. You shrugged and leaned slightly into her touch.

"Yes or no." She said as she propped herself up on her elbow so she was looking down on you.

"Sure." you agreed, she leaned down as soon as the words left your lips. Her lips were so soft compared to the boys that you'd kissed in the past. Her hand that had been in your hair now traced over your cheek bones as she licked your bottom lip. You opened your mouth for her to slip her tongue in, the taste of weed and pink whitney mingling on her breath. You met her tongue a bit timidly as she licked your bottom teeth. She pulled back after a moment to readjust herself so that she was now laying down on top of you, caging you in her arms as she leaned down to kiss your chin.

"You're so cute." she mused, her lips pressed against the corner of your mouth.

"You're really pretty" you breathed as her lips hovered over your own once more before connecting her lips with yours once more.

[joyfulhopelox]

Pink Camellia

A/N: I love plants and i love learning the meanings of them. I will have to put a disclaimer here, some of these may have multiple meanings depending on where the information is taken from. I went back to the Victorian Era meanings. This is part 1 of 7 of my Love Blossom Series where each member gets to have their own story amongst flowers. I wanted to call this a drabble as i wrote it quickly but i realised 2k is not a drabble but oh well. Hope it's an enjoyable read!

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox do NOT repost or reblog. Gif cr

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (non-idol!au, florist!Namjoon, cafe owner!reader)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none it's pure rotten fluff

Word count: 2k

You loved late spring. The cool soft air of spring morphing into the warm glowy summer atmosphere was the perfect time of the year in your opinion. Not only did the milder warmer weather make everything seem so joyful and light-hearted, but the sunny brighter environment caressed your skin as you walked. The cafe was not too far from your house but to get there you had to go through a park. The smell of the freshly bloomed flowers and the sound of children cheerfully playing put a spring in your step as you walked towards your work.

The park through it’s different seasons had its perks. In the summer it was the grounds for family picnics; in spring it was full of couples old and new enjoying their time together. When it got chillier, you could see the odd runner through the brightly coloured leaves and in the winter, the unhindered vastness of the park covered in a blanket of snow. But of course you much more preferred the warmth of late spring, early summer.

You’ve known Namjoon for a while, his flower shop opened just down the road from yours a couple of years back. When you entered his shop for the first time, the array of flowers were arranged in such a beautiful way that it took your breath away. The smells encompassed you, and transported you to a secret garden so that you completely forgot that it was just a shop.

“Hello”

So enraptured you were with your surroundings you completely missed the appearance of a man behind the counter. He stood in front of a now open door that signed ‘Staff only’. So he worked there, you concluded. You smiled at him warmly. “Hello, this shop is lovely. I have never seen such a variety of flowers in one place”

The man’s smile widened. “Thank you for the kind words. I have tried my best to build an understanding of the flowers I am bringing into my shop. I was planning to have one for every occasion, and yet…” he motioned around you “this happened” rubbing the back of his neck you could see the tip of his ears reddening. He was cute when he rambled.

“All the better, they all look lovely displayed in such a way. And the more the merrier” you laughed softly. “So you are the owner” you mused after a couple of seconds of silence.

“Yes, i’m Namjoon...i mean, yes i am the owner” the redness was creeping along his neck now and you could not find it more adorable.

Even if this was just your first meeting you could tell by his warm eyes and soft smile that revealed dimples that he was kind and humble.

“Nice to meet you Namjoon, i’m Y/N” you both shared a smile.

From then on you had been enraptured.

You had not planned to go into his shop every morning before work and pick up flowers to spruce up your cafe. But after one week of doing it, simply out of sheer pleasure of being in between the greens and the smells of the shop, it became habit. But most importantly you found yourself excited in anticipation of conversing with the owner as well. So one week turned into two, three. Until one day Namjoon suggested that instead of you making a trek to his shop, he would deliver flowers to you in the morning before you’d open the cafe. When you argued that it would be too much of a hassle for him he dismissed it, letting you know that he was starting to do deliveries anyways and so it would be no problem for him.

What he failed to mention was that his shop was not open as early as you normally came in to buy flowers. The first day you met was a mistake. A lucky one in his opinion; but a mistake nonetheless. They’d just opened the shop, totally forgoing to put the ‘Closed’ sign on the door. When he saw you in your awed state wandering around the shop, he did not have the heart to tell you they were not going to open until later on that day. You looked almost ethereal, the happy smile on your face giving you a soft glow that the flowers around you only enhanced. You bought a bouquet of sunflowers that day. Loyalty, he noted wondering if that was your favourite flower or if you just bought it on a whim. He made a mental note to himself to ask you next time, wishing there would be a next time.

And there was, there would be next times everyday for weeks. You made it a habit to walk into his shop every morning after that, buy flowers and have a nice chat with the cute owner. Whom, you’d found out was incredibly clumsy. He apologised profusely after dropping a vase full of flowers at your feet, he offered to pay for the dry cleaning of your coat when he tripped out of nowhere and spilled some plant food on you. One day he even managed to get soil into your shoes. You had to give it to him, you had never met anyone so clumsy and destructive in your life. It was impressive. And most importantly, it was cute. The way he reddened from the tips of his ears downwards whilst stumbling over his own words, made your own heart beat as fast as the words that were coming out of his mouth.

When he was not making a mess out of himself of the breakable objects in his shop, you had nice chats about random things. From books- he liked to read you noted, poems- he wrote some, he told you, weather- his favourite season was spring, travels-he seems to have been everywhere; to trivial things such as the food you had that day or the customers that you would get. Little by little you got to know each other. And little by little Namjoon had started to fall in love with you.

Unbeknownst to him, the feelings were reciprocated. Once he had started making deliveries to your cafe every morning, you looked forward to waking up in the morning and starting your day. Being greeted by his warm smile which accentuated his dimples was the highlight of your morning. The first week he had asked you which flowers you wanted delivered.

“I don’t know” you responded thoughtfully. In reality you had no idea about flowers, you loved them, but you did not know anything else apart from what was visible. “Surprise me Flower Boy” you grinned at him.

Once you had given him the go ahead, the types of flowers that he could deliver for you was all Namjoon could think about. All those meanings were swimming around in his head, carnations for love? No, that would be too straight forward. Lilac? Too dark. Sunflowers again, adoration? Maybe too cheesy. He settled in the end for daisies. Simple and innocent.

“Oh they are beautiful” you gushed as soon as you spotted him carrying the bunches into your cafe. Rushing to help him you misstepped and stumbled into him. For someone who was on a daily basis as clumsy as he was, he did a very good job at not falling over with you on top of him. And he congratulated himself for that, he deserved a medal. Your form leaning into him and the warmth of your hand on his bicep was enough to make the blood rush to his cheeks and his heart to pound.

“Oh, i’m really sorry” with a choked voice, he assured you it was no problem.

“I have done enough damage to you in the past few weeks” he grinned. “I’ll take it as a payback” you laughed at that and grabbed some bunches from his arms.

“They are so lovely, thank you” instructing him to put them over near the window, you went behind the counter to start on a drink for him. “Is a latte ok?” you asked over your shoulder. Too lost in his thoughts whilst observing your form he did not answer the first time. Asking again, you glanced briefly at him, noticing the slight dazed look he was offering you.

“Namjoon” you softly called, the intimate tone of your voice finally waking him up from his reverie.

“Ah, yes it is ok” he would not admit that at that moment, seeing you making his drink and the way you softly called his name - it felt like home.

After that moment, he started bringing in Camellias. And only camellias. Pink. The colour of them combined with the neutrals of your shop made everything brighter and lighter. Even in the winter he brought you camellias. At first you did not think much of it. They were lovely and you had an elated reaction to them. So you assumed that he’d thought they were the flowers that you preferred. But when you started noticing certain changes in his behaviour, certain looks, certain smiles. Sometimes he’d space out whilst staring at you doing mundane tasks in your shop. Something was nagging you. Was there a deeper meaning behind the camellias?

You tried asking him, but he gave nothing away. He flustered, knocked over a chair and exited out of your cafe quickly whilst apologising for having to leave so early. And so you let it drop. But the next time he came in, it felt like the air around the two of you had changed. As if there was a secret that was hanging in between the two of you. Something that buzzed around the two of you. Every interaction after that left you breathless.

So you did what any other human being would do when they need answers. You researched on the internet. Pink Camellias. You clicked on the first link, your eyes skimming over the words. Longing for you.

The next day you woke up extra early, determined to make it to Namjoon’s flower shop before he had a chance to come to yours. You had a flower order to request from him. On the way there the smell and sights of late spring put an extra skip in your step. Or maybe it was the thought of the cute Flower Boy you were going to meet? Biting your lip softly you started at the glass door of the flower shop. This time the sign said ‘Closed’ but you knew Namjoon would be in pitter pattering.

Opening the door, you stepped in. “We’re clo- Y/N!” Namjoon emerged through the same door signed ‘Staff Only’. “I’m not late to deliver the flowers, am i?” panicking he glanced at the clock.

You shook your head, it was now or never.

“I thought I would come in early to make a slight change in the delivery” you glanced at him trying to gage his reaction. Confusion painted across his face. Then entering his customer service mode he stepped away from the counter and started looking around.

“Of course, what would you like? We have a new batch of sunflowers in? You ordered those last time so maybe those? Or some flowers that are better in late spring? How about lilacs?” rambling he made his way round the multitude of flower arrangements.

Grabbing his hand to stop him, you sighed. It was now or never.

Stepping closer and closer to him, where you could observe his eyes, you smiled softly. Standing on your tiptoes you reached to place a warm kiss on his cheek.

“I was thinking something more like...roses?”

The silence that followed and his astounded face made you question yourself. Had you misread the situation? Soon though warm arms enveloped you tightly, hugging you to his chest. The rhythm of his heart, the slight pressure of his lips at the top of your crown and the whisper in your hair told you he’d gotten it.

“Love”

Main Masterlist

[basicjetsetter]

The Fall of Deus

♡ Pairing: Mob!Peter Parker x BlackFemale!Reader

♧ Setting: The Terrace Room in The Plaza Hotel, New York

♤ Warnings: Heavy Suspense, Language, Adult Themes, Violence, Gambling, Drinking

♢ Word Count: 6.5k

☆ A/N: No joke, this took me about two years to conceptualize. Two freaking years. But I can 100% say it was worth it to write every word. This is by far one of my most creative works and I love that I get to finally share it with you all. Please hit like if you enjoy it, leave me a lil’ comment and a reblog if you love it. Happy reading!

You couldn’t help but notice and admire how pretty the sky appeared when it was tinged in the auroral haze of an autumn morning and backdropped by the twinkling glass panes of New York’s notorious skyscrapers. Though autumn’s end isn’t for a couple of weeks, the lukewarm season allowed Manhattan a preview of winter’s frigid air. The city's constant roar hummed down to a distant lullaby as you walked up the steps and in through the doors of the Metropolitan Detention Center.

It’s an impressively modern building, one you’ve become intimately familiar with in the past couple of years. Everything inside screams order, from the plain white, bleach-scented linoleum floors to the rows upon rows of caged boxes containing a range of one-time offenders, serial criminals, and constant jailbirds. The first time you ever entered the establishment, it struck you just how much the atmosphere felt devoid and depraved, almost as if hope and happiness got stopped, frisked, and turned away at the door. You never liked staying more than necessary.

None of the four guards stationed along the main lobby walls paid you any attention as you marched up to the reception desk. Their inattention didn’t spawn out of contempt but out of fear. They knew who you were here for.

The receptionist, on the other hand, wouldn’t care if the Queen of England herself hop-scotched through the front entrance, bowed, and bestowed him the coveted Royal Crown on a jewel-encrusted platter.

He certainly never took an interest in your frequent visits. The first time you set foot into this building, a bright-eyed attorney anxious to speak with her first client, the oaf of a man merely grunted at your carefully constructed introductions and waved you off like a pesky fly. On a typical day, your exchange of words consisted of him curtly asking you to state your business while he half-listened to your response and stabbed at his keyboard with blunt fingers. Detaching his gaze from the monitor might have required exhaustion of his half-assed energy.

Today wasn’t unlike any other day. Phillips told you your client's location, even though you both knew the area by heart. Third floor. Cell Block E. Number 7. Always Number 7. Lucky Number 7.

Most of your ordinary clients got shipped to this facility and locked up with the rest of the inmates until you picked up their case. Unlike this particular client you planned on springing today, those other men lacked the say-so to determine their cell. None of them came close to his status. They didn’t have the power nor the money to hire a personal attorney, and none of their crimes could ever match those of the calculated, cunning man who controlled all New York's avenues and boulevards.

In the streets, he’s known as Deus. Depending on how close you are in his circle, he's either Parker or Pete. The name in the system is Peter Benjamin Parker. Your fiancé.

| Last Evening  |

“Stop fidgeting with your collar, Peter.”

“This fucking bowtie keeps… shit… it keeps choking me.” He growled out his frustration. “I’m going to fire that damn stylist.”

You threw him an exasperated glare as he ripped off the accessory. “Maybe if you hadn’t told him to pick any old bowtie, you wouldn’t be whining so much.”

“Remind me again why you're forcing me to wear this, anyway?” He paused for effect, placing his hand under his chin like Rodin’s The Thinker, and then snapped his fingers in dramatic realization. “Oh, right! Because Stark is a pretentious asshole, who thinks tuxedos are mandatory at all events thrown in his honor.”

Peter may hate the idea of wearing a formal tuxedo for the whole night, but you were going to enjoy every last minute of him in that attire, mainly because he resembles a model who stepped right off the page of a GQ cover. The low-lighting in this limousine certainly did its best to heighten your mood, highlighting the sharp angles of Peter’s clenched jaw. You’d have to remember to send Pepper a Thank You basket for planning the event as Black Tie.

“Can you at least pretend to get along with Tony tonight?” To see if his jaw could tighten any further, you coyly add, “He is the new Governor of New York, after all.”

Mission accomplished. Peter leaned his head back against the headrest and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, the light that glinted off of his platinum Rolex creating a scattered array of lights against the black leather seats. You pried your eyes off the extension of his neck as he spoke. “Great,” he huffed. “That’s exactly what I need right now. A gloating Stark who’s now legally duty-bound to hound my ass. One more thing to think about.”

As the limo pulled up to a slow halt in front of the Plaza Hotel, you grabbed one of Peter’s hands and held it until his eyes met yours. You gave him a reassuring smile and said, “Everything’s going to be alright, baby.”

The driver opened the door before Peter could speak and held out his gloved hand for you. You’ve been to the Plaza Hotel on many occasions, mostly business, and yet the sight of the château-styled building at night, with its myriad of lit windows and its luxurious lobby never ceased to leave you breathless. The view effectually took your gaze away from Peter’s tux, but not for long. The moment he stepped out of the limo, bathed in the golden light of the building, you felt transfixed all over again.

Peter discreetly tipped the driver and then turned to face you, clearly not as impressed with the Plaza Hotel as you were. He placed his warm hands on the swells of your hips and pulled you in front of him. His eyes appraised you, from your stiletto heels to your tight-fitted, off the shoulder evening dress, traveling up to your chunky Senegalese twists elegantly laid over your shoulder. He let out a low whistle and said, “If looks could kill…”

You straightened his collar and opened up the top button of his gingham dress shirt for both your sakes, then swiftly leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re not too shabby yourself, Mr. Parker.”

He wolfishly grinned as you quickly detached yourself from his borderline caressing hold. You knew he’d want more than a short kiss, but you couldn’t afford to get sidetracked tonight.

“Behave,” you chided.

“And if I don’t, future Mrs. Parker?” he prodded, a huskiness in his tone that sent a delicious shiver through you. His steps slowly brought him closer and closer to where you stood, and you weren’t sure if you’d have the will power to move away again. One proper kiss wouldn’t hurt…

A disembodied voice groaned in your ear. “Book a room!”

Peter chuckled unabashedly. “Sorry, Ned.” Though he tried to appear unaffected, Peter made an effort to clear his throat and tugged at his collar. “You ready on your end?”

“Yeah. Mic’s clear. Computer’s up and running. I’m all set. Can’t say the same for you two.”

You glance accusingly at Peter, who waggled his eyebrows at you. “We’re ready. Sorry about that. You know how Peter gets when I wear twists.”

Ned verbally shuddered. “Don’t remind me. I still refuse to sit on my couch, by the way, even after washing it four times! You owe me a new couch, dude. For my trauma.”

Peter half-heartedly grinned at the ground and said, “Dude, if we pull this off, I’ll buy you a whole new furniture set.” The one half of his grin faded away, replaced with a grim line of determination and sobriety. “Where’s he at?”

A few clicks rang through your ear-piece, then Ned replied, “Not far. About twenty minutes away, on Queens Boulevard in Elmhurst. Might be a while before he reaches the Plaza, though. There’s a jam on the bridge.”

“Cool, thanks. Keep us updated.” Peter didn’t want you to catch his expression, but you didn’t need to directly see it to realize he’s in business mode, cold and calculated, little to no warmth or playfulness left in his brown eyes.

Copying your move, he took your hand and held it until you both stared at each other. Briefly, with your eyes locked in place, he searched for any sliver of doubt, giving you one last option to ditch and save face while he executes the plan solo. You did not doubt that he and Ned could somehow pull it off without so much as a hiccup. Odds always work in Peter’s favor. For the past three years that you’ve known him, he’s never lost a gamble. Tonight, though, the gamble must include you, a new piece to his complicated game—a variable. If anything were to head south, the last thing Peter would want is to implicate you.

You understood the risks: the potential loss of your career, your squeaky clean record, and possibly your life. You wouldn’t be here, with him of all people, if you didn’t trust the plan. So you didn’t sway, letting your eyes confirm where you stood on the matter. I’m sticking with you. This exchange passed in absolute silence, ending with a small nod and a lingering kiss to your palm.

It’s always surprising to see Peter without a trace of humor or good-nature in his eyes. It took you a while to acclimate to his night and day demeanor and even longer to trust which emotions were real and which served a purpose. As he slides a cocky smile back onto his face, one that graces every part of his features, and holds out his arm for you, you knew. He’s in his element.

The game’s begun.

♢ ♤ ♡ ♧

Not even five seconds into the Terrace Room and your jaw hit the floor. Pepper sure knows how to out-do herself.

The room displayed the same historic French charm as the outside façade, but much more grand, decorated with multiple crystalline chandeliers, large stone semicircular archways, and classical art adorning the ceilings. Somehow, Pepper’s touch of cream-colored table cloths, bouquets of immaculate white peonies, golden napkins, and floating candle holders added the perfect ambiance for Tony’s celebration.

True to his fashion.

The Man of the Hour is currently giving his speech at the head table as the Maître D’ checks your reservation and prompts a server to escort you and Peter to your table. It’s located not too far away from Tony's, near a stone wall and a divider separating the other tables. You weren’t entirely familiar with the three people who were already seated, but they graciously offered quiet nods of welcome. Peter grabbed your chair for you and smoothly pushed you in before taking his seat next to you while you strained to catch the last bits of Tony’s speech.

“… and I can truly say that without you, my amazing colleagues, friends, and organizers present tonight, this win would not have been possible. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And um, yeah. Thank you, all.” Tony lifted his champagne flute into the air with a flourish and a winning grin. Peter rolled his eyes. “Here’s to an awesome four years as New York’s new Governor.”

Everyone stood up to give him a round of applause, Peter’s claps more grudging than encouraging, but you were glad he put in some effort. When he looked your way, you flashed him a loving smile and mouthed Thank you. He rolled his eyes again, playfully this time, and quirked his mouth up in an amused grin.

Live music picked up as soon as Tony took his seat, soft jazz that blended well with the onslaught of muffled chatter and clinks of silverware against glass plates. Servers incrementally brought out the main course of roasted beef filet dressed in tomato tarragon sauce and a side of arugula salad. Peter stifled a chuckle as he heard your stomach growl when a server placed the plate of food in front of you.

As another server leaned in to pour you a glass of wine, you held out a hand and gave him a polite smile. “No, thank you. May I just have some water, please?”

The young man nodded, but Peter piped up before he could head off. “Got anything stronger back there? Bacardi? Whiskey? Rum?”

“We have Vodka, sir,” the server stuttered out.

“Excellent. I’ll take a whole bottle of that,” Peter grinned and pressed a couple of $100 bills into the man’s palm. Peter’s effect on people never got tiring to witness. He and the server appear to be around the same age, somewhere near the 25-year mark, yet Peter's vibe reduced the server to stutters. You’d say the tux assisted with his air of importance, but you’ve seen Peter have that same effect on businessmen while wearing a shirt that read “I lost an electron. Are you positive?” and plaid pajama bottoms.

The server vigorously nodded. “Right away, sir.”

“Don’t drink too much,” you cautioned in a tone low enough for only Peter’s ears. “You know how you get, and I don’t want Tony to have an excuse to place cuffs on you.”

Peter scoffed and mumbled around a bite of salad, “If I looked at him wrong, Tony would cuff me.”

“Now that’s a little presumptuous, ain’t it, Petey?”

You jumped up from your seat and wrapped Tony up in a hug he warmly returned. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you, Governor Stark.”

Tony waved a hand, yet a big smile remained plastered on his face. “Ah, come on. It was bound to happen. Policy is the new name of the game, but I’ll sure miss that courtroom. You missy, on the other hand, deserve all the praise in the world. Best and youngest attorney in the whole state. Mentored by yours truly.” He trailed off, glancing in Peter’s general direction. “Though I question why you waste your talents on the likes of him.”

Now sitting ramrod straight in his chair, Peter slanted his eyes toward yours as you silently pleaded with him to be cordial. Once he brought his eyes back to Tony, he jerked up his chin in recognition. “Stark.”

Tony nodded at Peter. “Baby-faced Criminal.”

“Hey, now!” Pepper swooped in, pulling Tony back a little so she could see you better. “Just look at you! Always a beauty in everything you wear,” she gushed, then put on a stern face for Tony and Peter. “No roughhousing, tonight, boys. I mean it.”

“I was just making a valid critique on my star pupil's decision to become the Personal Attorney to a well-known arms dealer, is all,” Tony defended. He threw up his hands and drew up an innocent expression that might have worked had it not looked so derisive.

Pepper, pursing her lips, nodded sagely. “Right. Okay. So you were being an ass?”

“Pep!” Tony protested incredulously. Peter didn’t even try to hide his triumphant smirk.

You rolled your eyes in defeat. Oil and water can never mix, no matter how hard you try. No, Tony did not take the news of you becoming Peter’s PA well, and he’s made sure to rake you over the coals bout it every time the chance arises. You’ve been Peter’s attorney coming up on two years, and there’s not a sign from either of them that the grudge will ever be let go, not even for your sake, though they do try when threatened.

“I want you two to say something nice to each other and then let the rest of the night go on in peace. Go ahead,” Pepper ordered, indicating for Tony to go first.

Tony took in an excessive amount of air, then puffed it out. “Alright, Parker. Um… I like how you ostensibly don’t know the rules to a Black Tie Event.” He ended with a gesture to Peter’s lack of a bowtie. The poor thing lies in a mangled heap on the floor of the limousine.

Peter ticked up his eyebrow. “I like how the stick up your ass seems to reach new heights every time we speak, Stark.”

Pepper sighed and grabbed Tony’s arm. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but I’ll take what I can get. Come on, you. There are many more guests to greet.” She tugged him along, throwing you an apologetic smile over her slim shoulder as they walked away.

Almost out of earshot, you could hear Tony say, “He calls himself Deus, for Christ's sake!”

They left you two in heated silence. Peter refused to meet your glare, instead choosing to chug down the freshly set out champagne flute filled with Vodka. He immediately flushed as he poured himself another glass full.

“Peter—” you started.

“Don’t say it. I tried, alright?” He slumped against the back of his seat, then shot you a surly frown. “You didn’t even mention our engagement to him. Again.”

You looked down at your untouched food, suddenly not hungry.

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Were you ever going to tell him?”

An anchor of guilt plummeted to the pit of your stomach, chasing away the desire to eat anything for the next few hours. Your answer came out sounding whittled and nearly swallowed by the music. “Pepper knows.”

“And that tells me all I need to know,” said Peter, pushing away from the table and taking the bottle of Vodka with him.

You tried to stamp down the rise of startled panic by clearing your throat and evenly asking, “Where are you going?” A high octave managed to slip in on the last word.

“To socialize. Play some cards. Place a few bets. Criminal stuff. You want in?” He didn’t wait for you to answer, moving further and further away as a wave of hot anger replaced your shame. “Oh, my bad. Sorry. I forgot you probably don’t want your mentor seeing you ruin your perfect image with, what was it? The likes of me?”

He swaggered off, not a mere hint of his hurt evident in his show of arrogance.

You gingerly sat back in your seat, careful to ignore the inquiring stares from those who caught most of the argument. Your nails came close to puncturing your palms, and if your jaw clamped any tighter, it would snap. An annoying, persistent inner voice chimed out, He’s right, you know. It was probably Ned.

You understood Peter enough to know that Tony not being clued in on your engagement wounded him. He told everyone in his life about you—told Aunt May the second you finally agreed to go on that first date with him, nearly shouted to all the rooftops in Queens “SHE SAID YES!” when he proposed three months ago. Yet here you are, dragging your heels on telling Tony, one of the most influential people in your life, that you’re marrying the love of your life. He wouldn’t understand. Or, rather, he would, and he’d abhor your decision.

You’re not sure you could ever explain to Tony how Peter is your favorite star in the night sky. A big, glowing ball of light you spend hours upon hours admiring and appreciating. One that just burns brighter than all the rest.

Your engagement ring sparkled at you, winking as you moved it side to side and marveled at the simple yet elegant details of the inlaid sapphires and diamonds. Peter told you he picked it out a week before the proposal, but you knew he carried it around in his pocket for months, biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity. When he asked, you couldn’t say yes fast enough. At that moment, Tony and his aversion to Peter never crossed your mind, but it’s lingered ever since.

Guilt returned as a salve for your anger.

“Trouble in paradise?” asked a woman sitting at your table, a slight accent in her voice. She appears to be young, almost too young to be at this function. The glimmer in her eye and the hitch in her smile denoted a wise person. Goddess braids sat on top of her head like a crown, and she’s wearing a simple black dress with pearl studs that nicely accentuates her dark brown skin.

You uncurled your hands and blew out a held-in breath, kindly smiling back. “Something like that.”

She held out a hand. “Shuri Udaku.”

That name came with an inkling of recognition, but you couldn’t quite place it. You shook hands with the young woman, giving her your name. When you momentarily looked at your clasped hands, your eyes dropped down to catch the jewelry on her wrist. They weren’t pearls like her earrings. They were onyx and emblazoned with ivory symbols on each bead: Kimoyo beads, a technological revolution currently sweeping the nation, manufactured only by one woman. The realization hit you hard. “Hold on a second. The Shuri Udaku? Founder of Vibranium Tech, Shuri Udaku?”

“The one and only,” she answered, her smile growing wider.

This confirmation launched you into a field of questions and acknowledgments. It turns out she knows of your work as New York’s youngest attorney, but you know a bit more about her line of work because Peter always voiced his interest in her growing business. On the surface, Vibranium Tech is like any other technology company, issuing out new and improved ways of communication and medical treatment. In the underground, there’s been rumors of her interest in creating weapons—technological weapons unlike any the arms dealing business has seen before.

You didn’t want to bring up that facet of knowledge just yet. The normal conversation worked wonders on you, loosening your tense muscles and clamped jaw, all of them singing sweet relief once your body naturally released the tension.

“So, did I hear Tony correctly when he said your partner is the Deus?”

You winced and found yourself searching the room for a glimpse of your fiancé. He’s commandeered a table in the back of the venue, showing off his black and gold deck of playing cards to a group of interested guests itching to play a hand.

“Yeah, that would be him.”

“That’s so badass,” Shuri mused, leaning in conspiratorially. “Is he like the mob bosses in TV shows and movies? Like does he have henchmen? Bad-temper? High-speed car chases with the police?”

You genuinely laughed. “Not exactly. Henchmen, kind of. Bad temper is rare. And he’d never shut up about having a high-speed car chase with the police. No, he’s a little more lowkey than all that.”

Long ago, back when you were innocent to the life Peter led, you assumed that that’s precisely what it entailed—an exhilarating life of high stakes, exorbitant amounts of money, strong-armed goons, and reckless shoot-outs. That might be the case for a few bosses, but not Peter. He’s too strategic, and the ins-and-outs of his trade are too complicated to pin on just one person.

“Well, I, um…” she stopped, considered her words. You unconsciously drew in closer. “I may have a business offer for him.”

You kept your smile on, but it felt more commercial-like than friendly. “What type of offer?”

Shuri gulped down a generous amount of her red wine, then darted her eyes side to side before speaking lowly. “Would he be interested in high powered weapons?”

You raised your eyebrows but kept up your cool front. “Depends. In exchange for what?”

“Protection.”

A voice in your ear announced, “He’s here.”

You ignored it, focusing on Shuri. “From who?”

Shuri peeked around again to make sure no one paid any attention to your private conversation, but her examination stopped at the entrance. “From him.”

You cautiously slid your eyes to the main entrance, heart hammering a thunderous rhythm in your chest.

Brock Rumlow. Peter's rival and leader of a group named the Scorpions. A peddler/enforcer for the East Coast's largest mob: Hydra. Of course he’d try to pressure Shuri for the weapons.

He didn’t come dressed according to the occasion, opting for his usual tight-fitted black Tee and gray tactical pants. The visible half of his tattoo, a scorpion’s tail curling out from the cuff of his shirt, stood out against his tan skin. Two other men stood behind him, wearing almost identical clothes to Rumlow and sporting the same scorpion tattoo on their right bicep, not exactly hiding that they carried concealed weapons. All the voices in the room hollowed out to stiff silence, and even the band took its cue to halt. Your eyes found Tony in time to see his jaw tick for the briefest moment, and then he slid right back into a restrained version of his good cheer.

“Hey, hey! This is still a party, people,” Tony called out, addressing the guests. “Eat, talk, have a good time.” He signaled to the band to pick up the music, then crossed the room to chat with Rumlow. You���ve never seen him so keyed up.

You touched Shuri’s hand comfortingly, not taking your eyes off Rumlow. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She deflated gratefully. “Thank you.”

You nodded, already out of your seat and rushing to the back of the room, stopping short once you arrived at Peter’s table. He’s thoroughly invested in this round of poker, glancing back and forth from his cards to the nervous twitches of the five men and one woman at the table. You recognized four of them: Judge Nicholas Fury, Lieutenant Steve Rogers, Manhattan’s Chief of Police Sam Wilson, and District Attorney Natasha Romanoff. Sweat is perspiring on Steve’s forehead, Sam’s leg can’t stop bouncing up and down, and even Natasha, a woman known for keeping her cool while in the line of fire, is chewing on her lower lip. Fury's not fazed. He just seems tapped out.

From what you can estimate, about six hundred dollars lies in the middle of the table.

Sam and Steve speak at the same time. “I’m out.”

The other men followed suit, muttering their defeat. Fury dropped his cards down on the table facedown.

Peter wickedly grinned, zeroing in on Natasha. “Got any last words?”

Natasha squinted her eyes at his taunt. “Kiss my ass, Parker.” She put her cards down face up, showing her hand, and quirked up an eyebrow that dared him to top that: three Queens and a pair of twos. Full House.

Peter laid down his hand. Four 3’s and an ace. Four of a Kind.

A chorus of fucks circled the group as Peter cleared the table of the crumpled bills. Two new bottles of opened Vodka sit on the table as well, along with seven shot-glasses. Steve’s glass remains untouched, but the others look like they’ve drained two shots each.

“Bucky’s gonna kill me for losing so much money,” Steve muttered, twirling around his wedding band.

Sam sadly shook his head. “Dammit, man. I thought we had him this time, too.” He eyed Peter with suspicion. “What you got, kid? X-Ray vision?”

Peter ran a hand through his hair, causing a few curls to escape its sleek style. “Nah, jus’ luck.”

“Yeah, well, here’s to hoping your luck runs out,” said Fury, raising his shot glass and slamming it back.

You inched closer to Peter’s side. He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes are glazed over. You wonder how he’s even capable of sitting up, let alone playing people out of their money.

“Peter,” you whispered, putting your hand on his shoulder. His muscles tensed, but he didn’t shake you off. “Rumlow’s here.”

The remaining people at the table began to disperse in a collective gripe of loss. Peter didn’t say anything, only jerked his head in acknowledgment.

Your hand itched to slap him back into reality. “Peter, baby, listen. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I should have told Tony about our engagement.” Desperation sapped into your words. “It was stupid and childish not to, and as soon as I get the chance, I’ll tell him. But for the love of God, this is not the time to—”

“Well, well, well! Look who we got here! Deus, in the flesh!” boomed a disturbingly baritone voice. Rumlow, shadowed by his two men, plopped down in one of the empty chairs, sitting right across from Peter. He glanced at Peter first, then languorously landed his gaze on you. “And who’s this pretty lady you got here?”

“My fiancée,” answered Peter monotonously. He said it as if the words synonymously meant: just some chick. A dull kind of ache slashed through your chest as you dropped your hand back down to your side and took two steps away from him.

Rumlow pretended to miss the interaction, appearing to be in deep thought, and then clapped his hands once. “Oh! The attorney. I don’t believe I ever formally introduced myself.” He offered his large hand to you, grinning with his whole teeth on display. “Name’s Brock Rumlow.”

You reluctantly let him take your outstretched hand. His skin is blazing hot, to the point where your hand nearly felt suffocated. He brought it to his lips for a small kiss that twisted your stomach in knots. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rumlow.”

Rumlow winked. “Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart. And call me Brock.”

“Fuck do you want, Rumlow?” Peter bit out, picking the cards up off the table and shuffling them.

“Ooh,” tsked Rumlow. He made sure to lay another grin on you just to irk Peter. “Come on, Parker. Can’t a guy just enjoy some company once in a while? It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.” He watched Peter’s movements, the cards haphazardly sliding back and forth from one hand to the next. “Playing cards, huh? You up for a quick game?”

You butt in with a pressed laugh. “Actually, we were just leaving.” Drunk Peter is overly confident. If Rumlow found that out, you knew he’d take Peter for everything he’s worth.

“So soon?” Rumlow glanced down at his watch. “It’s not even ten yet. What’s the rush?”

Peter cut you off. “No rush. I’m staying. You play Draw Poker?”

“ ‘Course I play Draw Poker, but that seems too simple for you, Parker. Don’t you wanna make it hard for me? A little Texas Hold ’em?”

“Draw Poker,” said Peter, splitting the deck against the table and flexing the cards enough to have them rapidly collapse into place. “Take it or leave it.”

A dark, mischievous smile brewed on Rumlow’s face as he watched Peter fumble with the deck and, at some point, entirely losing his grip. You discreetly watched him size up his opponent, dismayed to find that he likes the assessment. Hair is stubbornly falling into Peter’s eyes, eyes that anyone a mile away could point out are bleary and bloodshot. The flush from earlier deepened on his neck and flashed scarlet across his face—an easy target for a skilled player.

“Deal me in.”

The first game played out exactly as you feared it would. Rumlow and Peter agreed on a $100 ante to get the ball rolling, both pulling out a single bill from their pocket and placing it in the middle of the table, then they settled for a pot-limit. Though Peter’s shuffling skills lacked his usual finesse, he expertly dealt each of them a hand of five cards.

You leaned against the back wall with your arms crossed over your chest and watched the game unfold. Rumlow processes his hands at the speed of a bullet, snapping his eyes to his cards once he’s drawn, and immediately discards the ones he doesn’t like when it’s his turn. Other than the minutest crinkle in the corner of his left eye, you couldn’t tell when he felt confident or when he bluffed. He gave nothing away, not even an involuntary scratch to his five o’clock shadow. He was so in the zone he began to partake in the Vodka bottle close to his side of the table, swigging straight from the mouth.

On the other hand, Peter moved as if a millisecond was the equivalent length of ten years, scanning his cards more than several times with pursed lips, looking up at Rumlow, scanning his cards again, once, twice, three times, then reluctantly discarding some. He frequently shoves a hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyesight, but the same unruly strands find their way back to impede his vision. He scratches the shell of his ear when he’s about to draw, and Rumlow’s picked up the tell.

Rumlow never even had to do more than call. The confident drunk in Peter always raised.

The pot increased to about $1400 before Peter folded his hand.

As Rumlow collected his winnings, he suggestively lifted his eyebrows at Peter. “Care for round 2?”

Confident drunk Peter never backs down, even when he’s the dumbass who can’t remember that he’s brought fists to a gunfight.

You step back up to the table and put a restrictive hand on Peter’s wrist to keep him from picking up the cards. “Enough, Peter. You’re done. Let’s go home.”

“No, I’m not done,” he said, snatching his arm away from your touch. “Go talk to Tony or somethin’. I’ve got this.”

Rumlow caught your bewildered stare and shrugged his broad shoulders, a gesture that didn’t match his cocky smile. He has Peter right where he wants him, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him because Peter is a willing participant running on alcohol and no critical judgment.

You should have left right then and there, but your feet stayed rooted to the floor. You couldn’t leave Peter like this. Sighing, you pulled up a chair to the table and sat beside Peter.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on him,” said Rumlow, putting on a smile too sardonic to be comforting. Too artificial to be genuine.

His lie didn’t surprise you. The hole Peter dug himself did.

The second round went similarly to the first. Flash decisions from Rumlow and molasses-like contemplation from Peter. This time, though, the ante came up to $200. As far as you knew, Peter is only carrying about $2500 in his pockets.

By the time the fourth round started, Peter’s Rolex lies on the table. The ante is up to $1000. Somehow the pot-limit became no-limit.

By the fifth round, Peter made paperless bets. Ante is $10,000. Rumlow knew Peter’s pockets went deep, and he’d keep at it until he struck gold.

Nothing you said stopped him. Peter hadn’t won a single hand. He’s desperate for at least one good hand; he’s got something to prove.

Rumlow kept drinking with each win.

By the seventh round, a crowd is around the table, watching in horrified interest as Peter raises the bet to one million dollars. The most significant amount you’ve ever seen him bet. So far, he’s held this hand for three draws.

Peter’s hair lost all semblance of its previous style, hanging over his forehead in disarray. He’s hunched over in his chair, his jacket’s off, and he’s rolled up his dress shirt’s sleeves to his elbows. His group’s signature tattoo stands out stark against his inner wrist: a roughly sketched spider.

Rumlow, eyes now as bloodshot as Peter’s and face just as flushed under his tan skin, asks, “Think you got something, Parker?”

“Do you?” Peter countered.

“I just might.” Rumlow ran a finger against his bottom lip, then smiled at his hand. “Why don’t you say we make this last Showdown a little more interesting, eh?”

A terrible queasiness wrapped around your gut.

Peter listened intently, his silence Rumlow’s indication to continue.

“$10 million. And the best trading routes. Including foreign connections. I want everything you got.”

You turned to Peter, placing your hand on top of his until he finally looked at you. Your eyes begged him to listen to you for once tonight. “Please don’t do this.”

His reply sounded tortured. “But I can. I have to.”

“Is winning really worth losing everything?” you asked, your voice cracking.

Rumlow chuckled ominously. “Oh, that’s not everything, sweetheart. We both know what’s left.” He gave you a meaningful stare.

Your eyes widened in disgust.

Peter snapped his gaze to Rumlow. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“No, but I want her. Imagine having New York’s best attorney in my arsenal. How many charges has she saved your sorry ass from, Parker? Five? All felonies, right? You lucky son of a bitch.” Rumlow’s smile is sinister. “Not that lucky tonight, huh?”

Peter spoke through gritted teeth. “Back off, Rumlow.”

“To have Deus wrapped around her finger, she must be pretty damn good. Is she, Parker?” goaded Rumlow, ignoring Peter’s warning. “Is she any good?”

Instinct controlled your hands as they seized Peter’s cards before he launched himself over the table and landed an ear-splitting blow to Rumlow’s jaw. Rumlow must’ve known the punch was coming. Still, he hadn’t expected the impact to be that forceful because his eyes blinked in astonishment. The two men behind Rumlow didn’t react fast enough, missing Peter as he stood above Rumlow, grabbed the handgun hidden in the waist of his pants and pressed the muzzle deep into Rumlow’s temple, finger on the trigger.

Rumlow shifted his eyes up to Peter. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Peter’s voice is lethally calm. “Say one more goddamn word about her and you’re dead.”

“Put that gun down, Parker!”

Tony. Shit.

Peter squared his jaw, never taking his eyes off of Rumlow. About six off-duty policemen and the venue’s guards have their weapons trained on Peter.

“I said put the gun down! Now!” Tony had pushed his way through the crowd, Sam and Steve right behind him. You didn’t notice until now how quiet the room became, everyone holding in a collective breath.

“Put it down, son,” Steve gently ordered. He spied Rumlow’s men, their hands tightened on their guns, and shook his head. “Don’t even think about it.”

Peter didn’t move a muscle. His chest rapidly rises and falls with each breath.

Sam, holding a pair of cuffs in his hand, tried getting through to him. “It’s over. Drop the gun, kid.”

A slow grin spread across Rumlow’s face.

“Peter,” you spoke softly.

His red-rimmed eyes met yours.

“Everything’s gonna be alright. Just put the gun down, okay? Please.”

Two heartbeats passed before his grip on the gun slackened, and he begrudgingly lowered his arm.

Steve and Sam seized on the opportunity. Steve disarmed Peter while Sam restrained Peter’s arms behind his back and tightened the cuffs around his wrists.

Rumlow massaged his injured jaw. “Guess that means I win, Parker.”

Sam yanked Peter back before he could charge at Rumlow. When Peter looked your way, he saw you still held his cards. “I’m still in play.”

“Wait,” you protested. Sam began to guide Peter up to the entrance. “Peter, I can’t—”

He nodded his head furiously, talking over his shoulder as Sam lead him away. “Yes, you can. You know you can, baby. Play the hand.”

You stared helplessly at Peter’s retreating form. It was all on you.

Rumlow watched, unperturbed; his cards still held tight in the hand that wasn’t nursing his jaw.

Slowly, you lowered yourself down into Peter’s chair, sitting directly across from Rumlow’s smirking face. Tony stared at you incredulously. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. The room’s chatter never recovered, either. All eyes stay glued towards the standoff.

The game is in your hands. Exactly as planned.

[reidgraygubler]

a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 3

Title: A Different Type of High (part three)

Request: no

Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader

Category: mostly fluff, but there is some angst

Content Warning: swearing, mentions of withdrawal and symptoms of withdrawal, talks of depression and suicide (but not for a sentence), mentions of overdose, (if i missed anything that needs to be tagged, please let me know!)

Word Count: 6,148

Summary: Spencer keeps his promise and takes Reader to get coffee before NA. While at the coffee shop, Reader meets one of Spencer’s co-workers and finds out who he actually works for.

A/N: i don’t have much to say other than… i don’t know if it actually snows in quantico virginia or dc. everywhere i’ve looked told me yes and told me no.. so i just made it snow. so if im wrong about that sorry o.o and, this one mentions the episode ‘elephant’s memory’ season 3 episode 16 (i think) anyways, thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist! and here’s a series moodboard i made on pintrest! 

previous part  series masterlist  next part 

{***}{***}{***}

Three firm knocks came from the front door of my apartment. I looked towards the door as I struggled to tie my shoes. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I stood up. My sweater was on the hook by the front door, so I can’t even excuse myself for running behind. It was just my anxiety causing me to be a little slow.

So with that, I walked up to the front door to answer it. I’m not sure why I was expecting anyone other than Spencer, but for some reason, my body was telling me it was someone else. But when I opened the door, a smile spread across my face when I saw Spencer.

Small snowflakes were sitting, and melting, in his hair as he stood in the hallway outside my own world. His nose and cheeks were a light rosy pink color because of the coldness outside. A dark plaid scarf was wrapped around his neck and hung over his unbuttoned jacket. And his eyes had a certain sparkle that I couldn’t seem to look away from.

“Hey,” Spencer smiled at me as he ruffled his hair, getting the snowflakes out. I stayed silent for a moment too long and kept my eyes on him. 

“Hey,” I blinked and shook my head, “I’m almost done… I, uh, was just… Do you want to come… Come in,” I kept my voice low as I asked. I stepped back and pulled the door open. 

“Thanks,” he smiled before stepping into my apartment. I looked around my home, realizing that it was a little on the messier side. 

“Sorry… Sorry for the mess. I usually don’t… I don’t really have visitors here. And, I guess I sort of forgot that you were coming over,” I bit my lips together.

“Oh, don’t… Don’t worry about it, really. My apartment is pretty messy too,” he brushed my messiness off like it was nothing. I looked around my home one last time before grabbing my sweater off the hook. “It’s starting to snow a little hard out there, we should get going,” Spencer cringed as he looked towards the window, which was covered by the cheap dollar store curtains. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all ready,” I looked at him and smiled. He looked back at me before raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have a coat?” He asked, watching as I grabbed my apartment keys. I shoved them in my pocket as I looked at him. 

“No, this is enough,” I smiled at him. Spencer nodded before following me out. “So, where was your trip to?” I looked up at Spencer as we stepped onto the sidewalk. He was wrapping a scarf around his neck before tucking it away into his coat. 

“Someplace in Texas,” he nodded as he buttoned the last button. He smiled at me before putting an arm around me. I just assumed he did it because I didn’t have an actual coat and just a sweater. “Work stuff… Kinda scary…”

“How does a work trip get scary?” I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at the ground. A very fine layer of snow was dusting the sidewalk, letting our footprints leave tracks as we walked. The snow was coming down like little cotton balls, so our footprints didn’t last very long. I always forget how cold it gets in the Winter. 

“Well, uh,” Spencer kept his voice low as he spoke. I raised an eyebrow before looking back up at him. “It’s a long story,” he added in an even lower voice.

“I have time for a long story,” I mumbled with a shrug. 

“It’s a really long story,” he looked down at me. I looked up at him and furrowed my eyebrows. It’d take a lot to get this story from him. I’m not even sure if it would be worth the fight...

The chilliness of the air nipped at the back of my neck and arms through my sweater, causing me to shiver. Spencer looked down at me with concern in his eyes. “We need to get you a proper jacket. It’s too cold out for you to be walking in just a sweater and jeans,” he spoke, his tone coming up an octave. I refrained from rolling my eyes because of him changing the subject. I’ll of course bring it up later. He’s clearly not telling me anything about what happened. 

“I’m okay, really. With just this,” I tugged on my sweater. Spencer looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Spencer. It’s fine. I don’t think I have money for a coat anyways,” I shrugged it off as nothing. Spencer looked away from me, thinking about something to say. Then he suddenly pulled his scarf off and wrapped it around my neck. “I’m fine!” I exclaimed as I stepped away from him. “Spencer, if being cold is the only thing that gives me feeling, then let me be cold,” I looked up at him, “I’m going through enough withdrawal to be depressed and shit. Just let me be cold,” I pulled the scarf off and handed it back over to him.  The scarf stayed draped in my hand, swaying in the wind, between Spencer and me.

Spencer stared at the scarf in my hand before looking up at my face. I couldn’t exactly read the expression he wore, but he was definitely upset about my sudden mood change. He slowly shook his head as he pushed the scarf to me. 

“Keep it. If you don’t want a jacket and you won’t let me buy you one, I want you to keep my scarf,” he looked up at my face before taking the scarf from my hand. He carefully wrapped it around my neck and placed his hands on my shoulders. I rolled my eyes before smiling at him. “Please, I have another one at home,”

“Are you too stubborn to take no for an answer?” I asked as I started walking again. Spencer laughed as he caught up to my pace. I smiled as he returned his arm around my shoulders. I leaned more into his embrace.

“That would be correct,” he looked down at me and smiled. I rolled my eyes again and shook my head. 

We stayed silent on the remainder of the walk, it wasn’t a far walk from my apartment to the coffee shop. Occasionally, Spencer would crack a joke or two, causing me to laugh. Which was good. I missed a good laugh or two. 

“So, do any of your work friends know… about this?” I looked up at Spencer as we walked side-by-side into a coffee shop. It was probably a good bet to say that he probably frequents more often than not. “This being you and going to NA, you and you’re… and you and me,” I stopped myself from saying any more, mostly because I knew he hated when we talked about our issues outside of NA or the community center. I understood why he hated it, but it didn’t leave much left to talk about. 

“No, no they don’t,” he mumbled as we stepped in line. There were three or four other people in front of us. Just a short wait, that’s it. I’m okay with waiting, in all honesty. The longer we’re here, the longer we are away from the community center. And God knows we both hate that place... “And I’d prefer if it stayed that way,” he spoke, mostly to himself, like he was reminding himself that no one knew of this secret life he has.

“I see,” I whispered and stepped closer to him. Spencer looked down at me before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I looked down and smiled as he held me closer. “I’ve never been here before,” I looked around the cafe, taking in the atmosphere of the place. It was comfy and cozy. As opposed to the outside, which was cold and snowy. 

“Pretty good. Although, it’s kinda hard for me to say no to coffee,” he laughed as he stepped forward in line. I returned the laughter and nodded. 

“What do you get? Normal black coffee? Or a fun drink?” I looked up at him. Spencer looked back down at me and thought. 

“Usually just plain coffee with cream and some sugar,” he nodded as he looked towards the front at the menu. I followed his gaze and looked over the menu myself. “What about you?”

“Uh,” I shifted on my feet and looked back at his face, “I just... I don’t really drink coffee or anything,” I crossed my arms over my chest. Spencer hummed as he looked down at me. “I guess hot chocolate is okay,” I whispered and looked back up at Spencer. 

“Hot chocolate, pretty good,” he spoke as he shoved his other hand in his pocket to pull out his wallet. We both silently stepped up to the counter. 

“Hey there, what can I get you guys?” The barista had a certain chipper-ness to her tone. It was probably from all the caffeine she consumes on a daily basis. Or it was the fact that she’s been awake for a million hours and is just tired. Probably the former...

“Large coffee, plain… Room for sugar and cream,” Spencer smiled at the barista. I shoved my hands in my pocket, hoping to find a spare bill or two. But when I pulled my hand out and it was empty, I frowned. Of course, I don’t have extra money. I’m a 22-year-old drug addict (Recovering… Recovering drug addict), who buys street drugs and can barely pay rent on time. Why would I have extra money shoved into my pocket?

“I don’t need anything,” I looked up at Spencer and forced a fake smile on my lips. He frowned and looked at the barista, who was watching the two of us with a friendly smile.

“No, no, my treat. Don’t worry about it,” He gestured to the counter. He removed his arm from my shoulder and pulled money from his wallet. I looked at him with wide eyes before looking back at the barista.

“Uh, small hot chocolate… Thanks,” I kept my voice low, mostly because my anxiety was going crazy. No one’s ever gotten me a drink before, much less anything. 

The barista smiled at Spencer and I before taking the money from him. I glanced at him, watching him place the change into the tip jar. He looked down at me with a small smile before guiding me over to where a sign that said “Pick Up Here” sat.

“You didn’t have to buy me a drink, Spencer,” I whispered as we stayed close to one another. He shrugged as he shoved both hands into his pocket. “No, seriously, it’s okay,”

“It isn’t okay, because it’s cold outside and having a nice hot drink is always nice.” Spencer looked down at me and shrugged, “Just accept the kind gesture,” he lifted a hand and placed it on my shoulder. 

“I’ve never had someone just buy me something before. I mean,” I stopped myself from talking because the end of that statement had to do with drugs. “Ya know?” I glanced at him, hoping he’d just know what I meant. 

“Well, that’ll have to change, won’t it,” he whispered and smiled softly. I stared at him and shrugged. I shifted my gaze from his face and to the ground between us. 

“Here’s that hot chocolate and coffee for you two.” A different barista smiled at Spencer and I as he placed two paper cups on the counter. Spencer grabbed both cups and handed one over to me. We both turned to leave. 

“Listen, Spencer, hot chocolate is one thing. But a coat? That’s a whole other thing,” I spoke before taking a sip of my hot chocolate. I hummed as the warmth spread through my body. He smiled at me before grasping my hand.

“C’mon,” Spencer started as he pulled me towards the door of the cafe. I could feel a smile tug on my lips as we walked past a new rush of people.

“Reid?” a woman’s voice spoke, stopping Spencer and I in our tracks. He looked away from me and towards the owner of the voice. I followed his gaze and saw a thin brunette. I didn’t like the way he pulled his hand away from mine like he didn’t want to be caught with someone.

“H-Hi, Emily,” Spencer stared at her with wide eyes. The tone and shakiness in his voice definitely told the person and I that he was anxious that this was happening. Which was valid, considering we were just talking about his friends and co-workers and it’d be bad if they found out about NA. 

“Emily… Prentiss. I work with Spencer,” She smiled as she looked at me and stuck out a hand. Spencer still has to tell me what his occupation is. Whenever I asked him where he works, he always said he didn’t like talking about it or that it’d worry me. So, this’ll be a fantastic conversation topic on the way to the community center. 

I copied the same stare that Spencer held in his eyes. My eyes were glued to her hand. And, no doubt was my anxiety higher than his. “And you are,” she asked after a moment of my staring and silence. Her smile was still kind, but it was a little worrisome. And, her stare scared me, almost like she was reading me or something.

“Right, right, sorry,” I muttered as I placed my hand in hers. I muttered my name and looked at her. She raised her eyebrow before her eyes shifted to look at Spencer. 

“How do you know Spencer,” Emily asked, pulling her hand away from mine. I glanced at Spencer, silently pleading for him to take the lead on this question. I really didn’t want to answer this question because I didn’t know how to answer it. 

“Friend from the library,” Spencer spoke up with a certain… fakeness to his tone. It was obvious he was lying. It looked like Emily picked up on that too. With the way she pointedly stared at Spencer.

“How do you think I met him?” I looked up at her and shrugged. I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall and sighed. “If we’re walking, we’re gonna be late,” I looked back at Spencer and spoke firmly. Spencer looked down at me and nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Emily,” Spencer looked back at his friend and smiled. Emily looked between the two of us before allowing us to leave.

“It was nice meeting you,” she smiled at me as we finally left. I flashed her a nervous smile just as the door closed. 

Once we were finally outside, Spencer wrapped his arm back around me. I could feel my body get frigid, I played it off as the temperature of the outside even though it was the return of Spencer’s affection. I really enjoyed the affection, but what I didn’t like was his sudden lack of affection the second we see someone he knows. I understand why he did it, but I hated it. I’m a secret. 

“Who’s Emily?” I asked, my tone low. I tried not to sound jealous. Spencer’s my best friend, and that’s it. I don’t like anyone like that, and I probably never will. “I mean, I know she’s someone you work with… But you never tell me anything about what you do for work, Spencer,” 

“She’s, uh,” he looked down at me. I kept my eyes away from him and stayed silent as I waited for my answer. “Yeah, she’s one of my co-workers.” He nodded. I looked back up at him and furrowed my eyebrows. 

“Where is it you guys work? Because it’s clearly not a Starbucks,” I asked, pressing him again about his occupation. “I mean, because if it is Starbucks, can you get me a job?” I smiled at him. Spencer laughed and shook his head. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to tell me where you work… But can you describe where you work?”

“No it’s not Starbucks,” he looked down at me and smiled softly. And with that, our conversation about his occupation ended. I tried not sounding or acting upset. But that’s okay. I’ll get over it. 

“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” I looked up at him and smiled. He returned the smile before taking a sip of his coffee.

{***}{***}{***}

“I just don’t understand… Why can’t you tell me?” I looked at Spencer as we walked towards the chairs. He glanced down at me before gesturing towards two chairs. I sat down before him, then watched as he sat down beside me. “Do you work someplace super duper embarrassing? Oh my god, are you a stripper?” I turned to look up at him. Spencer glared at me, a teeny-tiny smile growing on his lips. “Oh my god, you are,” I whispered as I moved closer to him. My butt was on the very edge of my chair so I could be as close as I could to him. “Can you show me somethi-”

“What, no! I’m not a stripper,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows before laughing. I returned the laughter and looked up at him. He looked over his shoulders to see if anyone was nearby, or close enough to hear our conversation. “Why don’t we talk about this when we’re done here… No one here needs to hear our conversation,” Spencer whispered as he looked back at me. I looked at him before reaching out to hold his hand. He flinched slightly when I touched his hand. I looked up at him before blinking. As I went to pull my hand away from him, his grip tightened around my hand.  “Does that sound good? I’ll be honest and answer any questions you have,” he looked down at our hands and nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, whether that be saliva or nerves he was swallowing back. A light shade of pink grew on his face, coming up from his neck.

“Yeah, yeah that works,” I looked down at my lap. The scarf was draped over my legs, keeping me warm a little bit. Jacob stood up in the middle of the circle to introduce everyone, and I already wanted the night to be over. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Spencer looking over at me as I silently prayed for death to take me now. “My place or yours?” I smiled softly before looking back at him. 

“Yours since we’re already walking back there,” he dropped his head to his shoulder before looking at me. I smiled and turned to face Jacob. 

{***}{***}{***}

“Uh, I don’t have much in the means of food. I might have a can of spaghetti-o’s… If you’re hungry,” I spoke as I pulled the scarf off my neck and placed it on the hook, along with my sweater. 

“Oh, I’ll just have a glass of water,” Spencer spoke as he pulled his coat off. He placed his coat right on the hook beside my sweater. I nodded before walking over to the small kitchenette area. 

“You can have a seat anywhere, couch, armchair, floor... “ I grabbed two glasses before filling them with water. I walked back to the living room, my eyes down on the ground.

“So,” I whispered as I set the glasses on the coffee table. Spencer, who was sitting on the couch, leaned over and picked one up. I sat on the opposite end of the couch before curling up into the corner. “Emily seems very nice,” I looked at him, watching as he sipped his water. 

“She is… Everyone I work with is like family to me,” Spencer looked at me before placing his glass back on the coffee table. “It’s frustrating because...” he started, but he didn’t finish his thought. I furrowed my eyebrows and stared at him. 

“What’s frustrating?” I asked, watching as he furrowed his eyebrows. He looked back at me for a moment before exhaling.

“It’s frustrating… Because I constantly ask for help and no one helps.” Spencer looked down at his lap. I raised my eyebrow as I turned to face him more.

“How are you asking for help? And… I thought you said no one knows,” I whispered as I laid my head on the back of the couch. Spencer glanced at me before looking back down at his hands. He was pulling at fingers, his joints quietly popping. “Spencer, if no one knows what’s going on, then they can’t help you,” I kept my voice low because I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I’m sure with Spencer I couldn’t ever say the wrong thing. I mean, he couldn’t say the wrong thing to me… 

“No, no… I think they know… And that scares me,” he whispered as he looked back at his hands. “I’ve been with them for so long, and they know me enough to know when something’s wrong,” he shrugged before shifting in his seat.

“What is it you do for work? You still haven’t told me,” I looked back at him as I asked. His gaze shifted between the couch and my face. The way his eyes shifted across my face and his silence told me he was trying to find the words to say but was having a hard time formulating them.

“I work for the FBI,” he whispered, dropping his gaze away from my face. 

I could feel my heart drop to my stomach and a certain sickness rise up my esophagus. It took everything in me not to be sick at the moment. My hand balled up into a tight fist, and I could feel my nails digging into my palms so hard, I’m sure if they weren’t nubs I would have bled. The FBI… The police… People who arrest people who buy and sell drugs illegally. People like me...

“The… The FBI?” I asked in a whisper. My voice was shaky as I spoke. Spencer looked back at me and nodded lightly. I shifted in my seat, my body wanting to leave. “You’re not… You’re not an undercover agent, are you?” I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. 

“What? No,” Spencer scowled as he looked at me. I looked away from him, mouthing the word ‘Sorry,’ but not even meaning the apology. “I’m not an undercover agent, and I’m not going to arrest you. No, I’m like you. I’m trying too get better.” He whispered as he looked back down on the couch. “Last week, when I was on the work trip… I was saving a kid… Some teenager… He was… He was bullied growing up and in high school. And, he was…”

“Victim turned bad guy?” I asked, interrupting him. He glanced over at me and nodded lightly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s basically what had happened. They were going to shoot him,” he whispered. I glanced at him and noted that tears were rolling down his cheeks. 

“They? They being the other members of your team?” I wrinkled my nose as I asked. He glanced at me again and nodded. I moved to stand up, but Spencer reached out and grabbed my wrist to stop me from standing. I looked at him with wide eyes and terror on my face. His features softened as he looked at me, realizing that this was getting too real for me too fast.

“And, I… I couldn’t let this kid die. So I stood between this kid, this kid that I only knew so much about, and nine police officers and federal agents and their guns,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he went on. My eyes grew wet as he spoke. 

“That’s really stupid of you, Spencer,” I whispered as I shift back to be sitting on the couch. Spencer laughed lightly and nodded. “Don’t… Don’t do that again,” I rubbed the underside of my nose and shook my head.

“Yeah, it was stupid of me, wasn’t it… But, this kid is alive,” he whispered. I looked over at him and watched as he moved closer to me. “You can trust me. I’m trying every bit as you are to get better,” he spoke as he readjusted his grip from my wrist to my hand. I swallowed roughly and looked down at our hands.

“You… I know we don’t know we don’t know each other too well… But you can’t die, Spencer. I don’t care if it’s because of work, because of a bad guy, or because of someone at work, or if it’s because of drugs… But, you can’t die,” I whispered as I looked back at him. I could really feel the tears racing down my cheeks. “I’ve never been clean as long as I have been. I don’t think I can do this without you,” I roughly rubbed my cheeks and shook my head.  “I’m… I’m sorry, that’s stupid,” I scoffed and shook my head.

“That’s not stupid. Nothing about it all is stupid.” Spencer looked at me as he spoke. He lifted a hand to wipe my cheeks with a thumb. I looked at him before looking at the ground. “I’m having a rough time… With, uh, with, well, you know. I’ve stopped, uh, it. And last week’s case was the first case without it. I just didn’t care what happened, even if that meant dying.” He whispered as his grip on my hand tightened. “If you can do it… I can do it,”

“Accountability buddies,” I smiled as I reminded him of our promise to each other. Spencer looked back at me and smiled.

“Yes, accountability buddies,” he sighed as he pulled me close for a hug. I took a deep breath, breathing in his smell. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” I wiped my cheeks again, “Mister FBI Agent,” I looked up at him and smiled, “Can you stay the night?” I asked, looking away from his face and at the messy coffee table. 

“Are you sure?” He looked down at me as he rested his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him and nodded.

“I think it’d make me feel better… Knowing that you’re… That you’re here,” I glanced at him. I wasn’t sure if I was embarrassed or not. But, I definitely felt weird asking him to stay here. Just something about him being near for the night made me feel safe. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I understand if it’s weird or what-”

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he nodded and looked at me. I smiled before throwing my arms back around him. “Just don't be surprised if I’m not here when you wake up,” he laughed lightly as rested his hands on my back, “I just… I know I’ll have to be at the office early,” he further explained. 

“That’s okay,” I nodded and looked up at him, “I promise I won’t make it a habit… Of asking you to stay the night, that is,” I looked away from him and shrugged. Spencer laughed and shook his head.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he muttered. I probably wasn’t supposed to hear him say that, but I did. And it kinda made me feel happy, like unusually happy. “Is it alright if I use the bathroom?” He asked as he stood up. 

“Oh, yeah, yep,” I copied his action and stood up. I looked to the ground as I lead him towards the bathroom, “Here you go,” I gestured into the open room. Spencer smiled at me before entering, pressing the door behind him. I stared at the surface of the door before stepping away. My fingers were tapping together as I walked back to the living room. My anxiety was a little high, and I wasn’t sure why, and the tapping was helping me calm down a bit. I had no secrets in the bathroom, nothing embarrassing or dangerous for him to see. 

I silently went back to sit on the couch, pulling my throw blanket over my shoulders. My apartment wasn’t necessarily cold. But there was enough of a chill to be noticeable. Well, to me at least. I’m not so sure about Spencer. I know I could just turn the heat up, but heating bills are expensive.

I instinctively stood up when the bathroom door clicked open. Spencer stepped out, drying his hands on his shirt. I internally cringed at my lack of paper towels or hand towels in the bathroom.

“Sorry,” I looked up at him and cringed. He looked back at me and shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he smiled as he shoved his hands into his pockets. I stared at him for a moment before walking away from the couches. “I really don’t have an issue sleeping on the couch,” he took a larger step to walk beside me. I glanced at me and shrugged.

“It’s cold,” I pointed out as we walked closer to my room. Spencer looked at me and smiled. “Besides, my bed can hold two people,” I smiled, mostly to myself. My bed wasn’t big, to begin with, two people probably shouldn’t be sharing. But, here we are… Because I didn’t want to be alone tonight. 

“Okay, okay,” Spencer laughed lightly as we entered the room. I looked up at himand smiled more as he looked at my bed. “If you say so,”

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, I was right, yet wrong at the same time. My bed can hold two people. But, it shouldn’t. Even though I’m smaller than Spencer, we were both on the very edge of the mattress. We had been in bed for an hour, and it’d been about 45 minutes since I shut the light off, leaving us in total darkness. I wouldn’t say I was uncomfortable, but it was difficult to be comfortable.

I rolled over onto my side, my back facing Spencer. Spencer was stiff on top of the blanket, making it impossible to get comfortable under it. He laid perfectly still on his back with his hands folded on his stomach.

“You know you can get under the blanket,” I spoke out loud as I looked up at him. He looked over at me, and it was clear that he hadn’t fallen asleep yet either. “Or, I can go get the blanket from the living room and you can use that,” I added in a whisper.

“It’s fine,” he nodded before shifting to move the blanket.

Once Spencer was actually under the blanket, he rolled on his side, so my back was pressed against his chest. My body stiffened once he relaxed. After a few minutes, I finally let my body relax and melt into the bed… That was until Spencer draped his arm over my body. 

“It’s okay,” I spoke before he even got the chance to move away from me, “It’s fine, you’re… You can stay there,” I shivered because I was cold and not because of my sudden anxiety. I knew he could sense my nerves. “It’s fine, really, Spencer,” I placed a hand on top of his to keep him from moving away from me. “Are you asleep?” I whispered, already knowing the answer. I knew we both wouldn’t be asleep anytime soon. The cuddling happening between us is obviously something we’ve never experienced before. I mean, I don’t know about Spencer, but I’ve never cuddled another human being other than my own mother (but even then she hadn’t cuddled me in more than 10 years). 

“Yes, I’m still awake,” he spoke, his voice low. His grip around me got a little tighter, pulling me closer to his chest. The way he held on to me was comparable to a child holding their stuffed animal, and I was honestly okay with it. “I’m assuming you’re still awake, considering you just asked me a question,” 

“I don’t usually fall asleep for a while after I go to bed,” I mumbled, pulling the blanket closer to me, “I spend most of my nights in bed, awake till 4 am,” I sighed. I silently hoped that tonight would be different though. 

“I’m sorry about that,” Spencer whispered. I shrugged as I shifted closer to him and further to the middle of the bed. “Maybe you should try to sleep earlier tonight,” “Yeah… Maybe,” 

{***}{***}{***}

I woke up before him. Our legs were tangled together, and he was holding me close against his chest. For the first time in a long time, I actually slept well. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the enormous space heater beside me, or because another person was actually in bed with me, but I was getting very hot.

I looked up at Spencer’s face, wanting to stay like this for a while. Although, I knew we couldn’t stay like this. He’d have to leave soon to go to work. He just looked so peaceful asleep. And, I was so comfortable lying here… 

I widened my eyes as I stared at him. My heart started beating faster, and I wasn’t sure if I could get it to slow. Part of me was worried that it’d wake him up, and another part of me was okay with it all. But, why was I worried as much as I was? And, why was it only when I was with Spencer I felt this way? What was going on? Crap...

I quickly closed my eyes and nuzzled my body closer to him when I saw that he started stirring. I threw my arms over his body and pressed my face to his chest. His heart beating and breath was somewhat soothing for me.

Spencer carefully shifted in his space before pulling my arms off him. I refrained from pouting. The bed shifted as Spencer sat up in the bed, partly bringing the blanket with him. He tossed the blanket back to me, lightly covering me again.

“Do you have to go to work,” I whined as I looked at Spencer as he slid out of my bed. He looked down at me with wide eyes. 

“I thought you were asleep,” he half muttered. I sat up before rubbing my eyes. Sleep? Pfft, I never sleep. He should know that! We just talked about it last night. “And, yes, I have to go to work,” he stood up and turned to look at me. I looked up at him and frowned.

“Nah, I never sleep, we talked about that last night,” I shook my head. Spencer sat at the foot of the bed to put his shoes back on. “I just have a bed to lay in and wallow in self-pity when I’m not at the community center,” I rubbed my nose. I pushed the blanket off me and crawled over to sit beside him. “And when I’m not with you,” I looked up at him.

“You don’t do anything during the week?” He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged and shook my head. “Really?”

“I mean, Wednesdays are really the only days I have stuff. I guess I could do chores and stuff,” I looked towards the door, remembering the mess in my living room, “I know what you’re thinking, I should get a job. But that’s so hard. I don’t have any job experience,” 

“I never said I was thinking that,” Spencer turned to face me. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him. “How do you-”

“I’m friends with the owner of the building and he knows I live on hard times. And, mom had some money left behind,” I dropped my head so I wasn’t looking at him. 

“I’m not judging you,” he spoke, his tone very insistent. I sighed and nodded. 

“You should go, before you’re late,” I looked back up at him, “I don’t want to be the reason why you’re late. Emily already knows about me. We don’t need the others asking about me. Some random girl you slept with,” I smiled. Spencer looked over at me, trying to hold back his smile.

“You’re not going to stay in bed all day, are you?” He asked, standing up. I looked up at him and shook my head.

“I told you, I can do chores and stuff,” I shrugged and looked around my room, this time at the laundry room. “Will I see you again before next Wednesday?” I asked as I moved closer to the edge of the bed.

“That’ll entirely depend on work,”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Agent Spencer,” I smiled at him before standing up. Spencer glared at me for a moment before laughing, “Are you like 007?” I asked leading him back out of my room.

“No, I’m not like James Bond,”

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[shimmershae]

My thoughts on Episode 6--On the Inside

Very appropriate title by the way.  Works in a multitude of ways.  

As always, my randomness is going beneath a cut again to spare the eyeballs of those of you that don’t want to see it at all and also?  Help those of you that have somehow stayed spoiler-free in this brand-new age of early release episodes.  It is still so wild to me that I’m a full episode ahead of half the fandom.  I don’t know what I’m going to do when we get to the final episode and they decide to make us all suffer together--because somehow I do feel they will do exactly that after spoiling us for the first 23 episodes.  It is going to be agonizing.  

Anyway.  Without further ado, Shae’s stream of consciousness review (of sorts).  

Not fair, Angela.  Opening the episode with that shot of that big ass spider.  I hate those suckers.  So naturally, they’re an easy sell for setting the horror scene to me, lol.  

Okay.  Who the hell’s chasing Virgil and Connie?  Walker No-See-Ums?

Barely a minute in and the atmosphere for this episode is moody AF.  

What is this?  Tara Jr. The Walking Dead?  LOL.  Where’s the Scarlett for this mini plantation house?  Anyway.  First three minutes of this episode?  Just as attention grabbing as the first five episode openings this season.  I don’t think people out there are giving our writers enough love for that.  Every episode so far has opened like a mini movie.  

With the way the Walking Dead logo keeps crumbling away with each successive episode, somehow it wouldn’t surprise me at all if the Carol and Daryl spinoff was eventually titled The Living and had flowers growing out of each letter, lol.  I mean, there would be a certain sort of life-affirming symmetry in a show that’s been promised to be much lighter in tone doing just that.  

More Carol and Aaron?  Yes, please.  I don’t necessarily like Carol staying at home and sitting the sidelines like a figurative happy little homemaker in the B story while the rest of the mains are trying like hell to sell the A story, but if she’s going to be totally prohibited from the main storyline until it’s time to blow shit up?  I’m going to continue enjoy getting to see her do what she should have been doing for seasons--interacting with others in the community, especially Aaron and the ladies.  

Truly.  I really am loving my girl getting some quality Aaron and Rosita time.  It’s so long overdue.  

Bless sweet Kelly.  Riding off to her sister’s rescue.  

Why isn’t Lydia shown as part of these plans?  For someone that could barely read last season, I doubt that big ass map was a piece of cake for her and it’s all just guesswork anyway without her guidance.  I mean, why does it feel like they are cutting some of this stuff that might not seem like much plot-wise but would go a long way toward establishing different character beats?  Personally, I would have loved to see her involved in the search and sharing scenes again with Carol and bonding with Kelly. 

Virgil be having that “I always feel like somebody’s watching me” feeling.  Don’t you hate that, lol?  

“You haven’t slept in days.”  But how many days, Virgil?  I’m going to need a number because I’m confused AF about this timeline at this point.  What we’re seeing and what different pieces of dialogue is telling us is not exactly lining up.  I’m going to find it awful hilarious if it hasn’t even been two weeks since the cave in.  For reasons.  

Connie’s spidey senses are clearly tingling.  

Alrighty, then.  She’s clearly got PTSD.  Understandable.  They’ve all had it.  Some have been treated more sympathetically than others, though.  

I mean, it never seems to cross anybody’s mind how Carol probably sees Henry’s head on that pike, Mika’s pale and bloody body, Lizzie crumpled face down in a bed of yellow flowers, Sophia with a smoking bullet hole through her undead head whenever she closes her eyes but whatever.  

Okay though.  But what if Connie had really shitty, impossible to read handwriting?  AKA doctor’s  handwriting.  What then?  

Leah’s face honestly twists my insides whenever I see it, lol.  It’s quiet a visceral thing.  No, that does not make me a horrible person.  Not everybody wants or has to drink the awesome, great, redeemable villainess Kool-Aid.  IMHO, she’s got a face meant for a Walker.  Perfect makeover idea.  Eh.  Mostly it’s her expression and the deadness of her eyes.  

Anyway.  Why is it always the fingers?  Eff that.  

Listen.  If ya’ll can’t tell Daryl’s conflicted AF with the situation he’s landed in, you don’t know how to read NR’s face and eyes.  He’s not a masterclass like MMB but he’s pretty darn good when he wants to be.  

I honestly feel sorry for Redshirt Frost.  

“You do what you gotta do.”  Frost knows what’s what and he’s willing to walk the walk for Maggie.  Impressive loyalty.  I’m left wondering how the current, colder incarnation of Maggie inspired it because I’m still struggling to see it.  Anywho.  My point is the dude knows the score and just gave Daryl the okay.  

Daryl taking off his angel vest before stepping into the role of torturer/interrogator=him shedding the persona/the man Judith and RJ and Lydia and Carol know him to be.  Pushing away his man of honor status so he can just survive somehow.  

Pope never quits chewing whatever the hell he’s got in his mouth.  It’s kind of distracting.  

Ohhh.  We’re back to the Haunted Mansion.  I mean house.  Where are the Hitchhiking Ghosts?  

All the eyes scratched out of those creepy pictures=spooky.  

The good old fogged up bathroom mirror shot.  Somebody’s been watching and studying their horror movies, lol.  Not gonna lie though.  I’m legit bracing myself for the jump scares I know have to be coming.  

I’m loving the music/score in these scenes.  

Truthfully, I could care less about these Reapers.  But they are hella attractive, lol.  Listen.  Angela knows what she’s doing.  

Kelly’s horse is so pretty.  Prayer chain for that baby.  

More dead horses?  Why?  

Connie’s slingshot?  Sorry.  I maintain, no matter how much I like these two, that they have the lamest weapons ever.  Endless supply of Virginia rocks or not.  

So.  Did Virgil and Connie enjoy a little equine for dinner?  Did they kill it before the Walkers fed?  What monsters!  Yeah, no.  Not if they were starving even if I personally could not have.  The more probable story is they fled the camp in a panic and left the horse behind and then it went down.  Sorry.  I didn’t exactly study the wounds on the poor animal because it is so traumatizing to me to continue to see them meet such dastardly ends on this show.  I don’t know who the hell has such a score to settle with horses but stop it.  

Days.  It’s only been days.  Not weeks.  So many times with all that Daryl and Company have had to contend with since the cave in?  Those do not exist, lol.  They’re just a convenient, appeasing piece of dialogue thrown at a fanbase primed and ready to read everything into not much of anything.  There’s just not been enough time for it to happen unless Daryl has literally been up 24/7 for all of them.  You know, strategizing how to attack the remainders of Alpha’s horde, figuring out how to defend Hilltop before it fell, healing from the wound he sustained at Alpha’s hand, sitting on that log all damn night with Negan waiting on Carol to come home, having a lover’s quarrel with his best damn everything, taking care of the Grimes babies and Lydia, being the reluctant leader.  Kang, why you playing them like that?  Daryl’s a super guy but he’s not a superhuman with clones.  So many times my ass.  

Seriously.  Who been watching Connie and Virgil?  The MIA Oceansiders?  Beta��s Fee Fi Fo Fum Ghost?  

Nice.  A Michonne mention.  Maybe the truth will start to trickle out.  

LMAO at Connie’s “I’m not staying here.”  Me neither, girl.  I would be outta that house so fast.  

They really “Quiet Placing” this episode.  Honestly?  I’m kinda loving it.  

WTF was that?  I know she can’t hear but you telling me all the little hairs on her arms, legs, and neck didn’t stand the fuck up and say fuck this shit, I’m gone?  Pardon my language, lovelies, but that moment had my heart kicking up several beats.  

Okay, okay.  To be fair to Connie, every hair on her body been doing that since the front door closed.  Maybe they’re desensitized.  

Gollum’s chasing Connie!!!  He/She wants their Precious!!!

The knee jerk reactions about this episode sight unseen are OTT, honestly.  And I mean no disrespect by saying that.  I can understand completely where they’re coming from because we’ve been burned so long in this fandom.  But it’s obvious the spoiler source has their particular biases and reads into things in such a way that don’t line up with what’s actually being shown onscreen.  Daryl’s loyalty in this episode and all along quite clearly lies with his family and his community.  He’s been playing Leah since the start and is truly just trying to survive somehow.  

Awful thought.  The Reaper that’s so suspish of Daryl--haven’t quite caught his name or really cared to.  I feel like he might try to get to Daryl somehow.  When he realizes that Daryl cares no more for Leah than any human would care for somebody (they thought) they used to know?  He’s going after Dog.  Or Carol should she finally join this story. 

I refuse to believe Carol isn’t going to be a part of this story.  Because they messing with her mans, lol.  

“You’re ever with us or you’re not.”  Now where have I heard those words before?  I wish I could find that Daryl gif because that had to be one of the funniest things ever, lol.  

Unrealistic suggestion to Daryl, Leah?  Breathing oxygen seems to piss off Carver.  Oh look.  He finally has a name for me, lol.  

I love how all three of the ladies--Carol, Magna, and Rosita--look at Kelly with such indulgent, adoring “little sis, you alright?” eyes.  

They are seriously the most beautiful quartet of characters.  I mean all of them are lovely but Carol and Rosita this season?  Ugh.  The unfairness of the pretty.  

Human bones.  Terminus callback, lovelies.  How it all would have eventually gone down if Gareth and Co. hadn’t met the business end of Rick’s red machete.  

So many horror movie homages in this one.  

Virgil’s like “let’s leave this Texas Chainsaw Massacre behind.”  

Connie and Virgil have obviously bonded, ya’ll.  I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying their scenes together when the character mostly got on my nerves with Michonne.  He’s a good actor and the core of his character is sympathetic, but I’m not going to lie.  I wasn’t super enthused when he was the one that rescued Connie because I didn’t know how their scenes would play out. But there’s a nice synergy there.  

Okay.  Does Carver want Leah for himself?  Because I’m sure Daryl at this point would love to scream “take her, I know where I fucking belong!”  

Daryl’s digging in deep because Carver has shown him Leah’s potential weak spot.  Nuance is truly lost on some people, LMAO.  He cares about Leah as a human being probably.  He’s Daryl, after all.  The sweet one.  But he sees her as his way outta this and he’s going to exploit it.  

It’s nice to have a silent Negan for once, lol.  I can pretend he didn’t take my baby Glenn away from me and enjoy JDM’s pretty.  

So.  These cannibal people were the watchers?  Hmm.  

I’m really digging Virgil 2.0.  Yeah.  Nobody’s surprised more than me.  

Sweet, sweet scene between Virgil and Connie.  His determination to reunite her with her family brings back the sympathy I felt for him when he told Michonne “I promised her flowers.  Every day.”  

Damn.  How many of those creepy crawly cannibals are there?  

How brave of Connie to confront her fears to save someone she’s obviously grown to care about.  

The Kelly/Connie reunion gave me chills and made me cry.  Thank fuck Angela didn’t cheapen that moment by having it focus on literally anybody else.  Kelly is the most important person in the whole world to Connie and vice versa.  Just like Carol is the most important person in the whole world to Daryl and vice versa.  Angela fucking knows.  Everybody does.  Except the people busy building castles out of sand while the waves of Carol’s and Daryl’s converging stories keep crashing closer and closer to shore.  

Such a beautiful moment given to us by Angel Theory and Lauren Ridloff.  So authentic and sweet.  Kelly and Connie are home to each other.  

Poor Frost.  That’s all I gotta say about that.  

WTF, though.  Was Mel just not available or what?  I want to see more of the ASZ characters that I care about, not the Reapers.  Like I’d be fine with the story if all the characters not named Maggie, Negan, or Daryl weren’t surviving on crumbs during it.  Especially the 2nd billed actress on the entire show.  Angela.  Please.  Fix this.  

One last WTF.  Seriously.  WTF has Maggie done to inspire Pope’s obsession?  It better be juicy after all this shit.  

Overall impression of the episode--

One of my favorites of the season so far.  The horror aspects were fantastic, IMHO. I truly didn’t expect to like Connie and Virgil’s scenes as much together so that was a nice surprise.  She got the reunion that felt most true and earned for the character and her story and I thank Angela from the bottom of my heart for that.  

I would have loved more Carol but I always want more Carol.  I’m okay with her taking a backseat because ultimately?  This was Kelly’s moment with her sister.  Carol and Connie will eventually have their time to sit down and talk.  And pick back up their blossoming friendship because I truly do not feel Connie blames Carol at all.  

I do wish Lydia had been included with the girl group.  Last episode felt like it was leading up to that.  

The Reaper storyline continues to be the weakest link because every time we see them the dialogue and interactions feel totally recycled from the time previous.  I feel like it would have totally been helped by a tighter focus and less stretching out because 8 episodes of this is really diluting what I feel like Angela and Co. are going for.  I’m not here for Leah being redeemed or being a bigger focus in any of the episodes because she does nothing of interest for me.  I’m just peeking in on that story for the Daryl of it all.  

Speaking of the Daryl? You lovelies out there gotta stop taking that spoiler source’s recaps at face value because it’s obvious to me at least that there’ some bias at work.  Every action and word coming from Daryl is coming from a place of loyalty to his family and wanting to protect them, no matter how he has to dirty his hands.  Leah is just a means to his ultimate end.  She’s not his future.  She never was.  His future’s already spoken for and 2023 can’t get  here soon enough.  But like Daryl, we have to just survive somehow.  

Oh goodie.  More Maggie and Negan next episode and looks like no real follow up on Connie and the ASZ reunions.  Hopefully, this is yet another instance of the previews being deceiving but I’m not holding my breath.  

Until later, lovelies.  

Hope my word vomit didn’t bore you too much.  

[sxfterhearts]

40. [8:59 am]

➳ pairing: mark x reader

➳ genre/warnings: fluff, coffeeshop!au, barista!mark, side!jackson,yugyeom (being silly)

➳ word count: 2,038 words

➳ summary: “I made this for you”

➳ author's note: for @strxwberri-milk​ 💖 i truly truly appreciate you!!! :”) and thank you for indulging me with your story hehe i hope something similar to this happens to you 🤭

➳ inspired by: (no one asked but) the bookstore in hear, here!!

You were early.

On regular meetups with your friends or even your dreadful 9ams, you would be running at least fifteen minutes behind schedule.

Today, however, you were early.

Therefore it goes without saying that meeting your Chemistry lab partner in the café he worked at to discuss your upcoming report was anything but a regular meetup, especially because said lab partner is none other than Mark Tuan, also known as the intelligent, introverted shooting guard who mostly stuck to and looked after his group of six other basketball jocks. Or your crush for the academic year, for short.

Taking in a nervous breath of air, you reached for your phone and began to type.

[08:59] Me: Hey, I got here early. I’ll go inside first and save us a spot.

Your feet tapped against the pavement as you stood beyond the café doors, your fingers gliding across the screen as you began typing another text to describe your outfit, just in case he couldn’t spot you amongst the sea of café patrons. It’s busy on Saturday mornings anyway, you rationalised your decision to double text, who cares, right?

[09:00] Mark: Yellow jumper and white Converse??

He had beat you to it. Your fingers halted its motions, staring intently at the panic-inducing typing bubble.

[09:00] Mark: I like your outfit :)

[09:00] Mark: And good morning!!!

It took all the self-control you had within yourself to not jump into a little happy dance right in the middle of the street. Calm down, Y/N, your inner voice rang clearly through your fuzzy thoughts, it doesn’t mean anything. Don’t overread his texts. Don’t overthink. Don’t –

“So,” A deep mellifluous voice broke you out of your daydream, its owner’s head poking out of the doors with his signature charming smile as an invitation. “Are you going to come in?” Your ears not failing to pick up the slightly teasing lilt in his tone. “Or are you going to stand there?”

For a few moments, you slowly tilted your head up, staring at Mark with a mildly shocked expression. Mark, with his fluffy permed hair and neat barista outfit, a white button up, black apron and a tiny bowtie around his neck. Mark, holding the door open for you, welcoming you into the humble establishment with a guiding hand. “Ah, Mark. Hi.” The words awkwardly stumbled out of your lips as you stepped inside. “Thank you.”

It felt like you were stepping into another universe, eons away from the quiet neighbourhood beyond the double doors. The café was situated a distance away from your home, hence why you never visited until now, despite many of your classmates’ recommendations of the café for group study sessions. Being more of a library person yourself, you couldn’t imagine being able to focus in a place where customers were constantly entering and leaving, and people were allowed to talk over one another.

This café, you realised, was different. Its white-bricked walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of novels, with colourful volumes of all shapes and sizes on display. Most patrons seemed to be preoccupied with their own reading or chatting quietly amongst themselves, mindful to not disturb or distract others with loud noises. The atmosphere was peaceful; serene. The only audible sounds were the rhythmic whirring of the coffee grinder or the low whistle of the milk steamer, which didn’t bother you at all.

“What can I get you, Y/N?” Mark asked in a practiced manner. You followed him deeper into the café and admired its interior, which strongly resembled a bookstore. While you were busy perusing the selection of CDs behind the counter, you felt a clipboard being thrusted into your hands. It was the menu. “Should I choose instead? It’ll be a surprise.” He offered, noticing how your eyes glanced over the paper repeatedly, never settling on a single item.

“Yes, please.” You were simply spoilt for choice – there were one, two, three, eight choices of coffee beans and over ten varieties of tea! “I’m not picky. I like coffee and sweet things.”

“Breakfast?” Mark asked. You shook your head. “Leave it to the capable hands of the experienced barista. Go take a seat at the table by the window, I’ll join you real soon.”

Heeding his words, you made your way towards the French windows, but not before browsing through a table full of literary classics. As you sat down, you decided that this quaint little book café was not a bad place to study after all.

Which reminded you, you made the thirty-minute commute here to discuss the results from your Chemistry experiment. Pulling out your notebook, your chest was filled with the same pang of disappointment as yesterday when you found out Mark left early for an away game and was unable to join you for the experiment. He sent you a text full of apologies and pleading eyes emojis, the first one you received from him after exchanging numbers. It took you another three or four exchanges to realise that the real Mark was very different to the Mark you thought you knew. Who would’ve thought the boy you had only admired from afar, the one who always seemed to watch over his friends wordlessly, blending seamlessly into the background, would’ve been such an enthusiastic texter? He had thrown in a generous dash of emojis, a sprinkling of GIFs and one too many exclamation marks, which never failed to pull amused smiles out of you.

“Finally decided to change the flowers on that table, hyung?” A male voice questioned mockingly from behind a nearby bookshelf.

“About time he did…” Another voice chimed in.

“Shut up, Jackson, Yugyeom.” You heard footsteps approaching you and looked up from your neatly-drawn results table to catch a glimpse of the playful glare Mark shot at his co-workers-slash-best friends. You began to wonder whether your girl friends frequented this café due to the favourable ambience or the attractive baristas.

You gave him a little wave as Mark stood in front of you and set down the serving tray. Your eyes feasted on the stunning array of goodies it carried – a cappuccino with a stunning Rosetta pattern and heavy dusting of chocolate powder, two slices of chocolate mud cake, a plate full of scones, jam and cream, and a butter croissant. The small jar of fresh, seasonal blooms in the corner – roses, daisies, chrysanthemums, daffodils and buttercups in shades of white and yellow immediately drew your attention. They complemented the shade of your mustard jumper perfectly.

Mark carefully positioned the flowers on the table before offloading the rest of the tray’s contents. “Flowers for you, Miss Y/N.”

The more you were around him, the more he surprised you. You fought hard against the blossoming heat on the apples of your cheeks, reminding yourself again to not overthink his words. Perhaps he’s just like that with every girl he talks to, you figured, there is no way he’s flirting with me.

“Surprise!” Mark exclaimed, moving onto the seat directly opposite yours. “I got a little bit of everything, so I hope you brought your appetite with you. There’s our signature chocolate mud cake, super rich and moist, wonderful scones and homemade strawberry jam, and our flaky butter croissant. Oh! Here,” He pushed the large cup of coffee towards you. “I made this for you. Try it!”

His brown orbs sparkled and twinkled as he eagerly watched you pick up the hot beverage and place your lips on the cup. A strong whiff of fragrant aroma drifted into your nose as you took a sip, your tastebuds instantly flooded with the creamy deliciousness of the coffee. You may be biased, but it was undoubtedly the best coffee you’d ever had. “It’s really good!” You finally said after several long sips. “Why is it so good?” You wondered aloud to yourself.

“Because I made it with care and love.” Mark answered without missing a beat. Upon hearing his bold declaration, you halted all movements and simply stared at him, steadily swallowing your coffee and feeling the warm liquid travel down your throat. “It also helps that we only brew the finest coffee beans and use the highest quality, imported full cream milk. A matchmade in heaven, really, I – ” He paused, noticing your unwavering stare. “Sorry, am I boring you? It’s just that, I really do love my job and I love talking about it and I’ve also been told I talk too much when I’m nervous. Sorry.” Mark cringed, frowning apologetically while visibly shrinking into his chair.

“No! No, not at all. Don’t say sorry. Actually, I like hearing you talk. As in, you sound so passionate just then. It’s just, it’s nice to hear you talk?” You wanted to facepalm yourself. Perhaps you should just dig a hole in the ground and hide in it forever. At least that way you would never have to face him ever again.

“Is that so?” Mark sat up a bit straighter, the corner of his lips pulled into a wide, heart-stopping smile. The tiny pair of adorable canines poking out of his mouth were all too distracting. “Well, why don’t you dig into your breakfast while I run you through what I’ve done so far for the report? Try the croissant first, it’s a good one to start on, fluffy and light. Alright, I stole the titration results from Youngjae’s group and used it for the calculations.” He quickly pulled out a pile of papers from his apron’s pocket while you savoured the sweet pastry. You had to admit, you never expected Mark to get any work done after his game last night. His hardworking attitude and dedication amazed you. “I wrote out the hypothesis and the matching observations for each reaction, pretty straightforward. There’s also the equations at the other side of the page, here, along with the calculations. They were a bit of a pain and I am this close to finishing up but unfortunately there’s still two more left. I can finish it while you’re eating, though, no big – ”

“Mark,” You called amidst a small, polite mouthful of cake and a light giggle, pausing his lengthy monologue. “You’ve done so much already. Leave some work for me too! This is a group project, remember?”

“Ah, right. Sorry.” He apologised sheepishly, a hand coming up to rub against his neck, embarrassed. “I guess I just wanted to make it up to you. I feel really bad about leaving you alone yesterday, Y/N. I wish I was there, with you. I would choose to watch solutions turn purple with you over playing ball any day of the week.” Mark admitted sincerely.

“Why?” You breathed. Your brain had started to get ahead of itself and pieced together the clues he’d left. Apart from his voice and your drumming heartbeats, your ears blocked everything out.

“Because I want to spend time with you.”

“Like… right now?”

“Well – ”

“Hyung! Mark hyung! Hey,” Yugyeom came running towards your table in a hurry. “Sorry to interrupt your date but,”

“It’s not…” You started, your tone shy and your eyes refusing to meet Mark’s.

“Date, study date, whatever it’s called. Sorry, Y/N, but I have to steal Mark hyung for a moment.” Yugyeom turned towards said boy. “It’s an emergency. Jackson dropped an entire crate of teacups, they’re all broken.”

“He what?!”

“There was a bee, apparently! I don’t know, ask him! He got scared and freaked out.”

Mark closed his eyes and took a deep breath, suppressing his urge to bust out a string of profanities in front of you. Once he felt reasonably calmer, he faced you. “Forgive me, Y/N. I have to go clean up after a child. I’ll be back, okay? In the meantime, make sure you eat up.”

You nodded vigorously and motioned for him to go, understanding the urgency of the situation.

“I’ll bring you another coffee later!” Mark called over his shoulder, to which you responded with two thumbs up.

A date? You thought to yourself. I guess it is a date, after all… The sweetest of smiles brightened your face as you gazed fondly at the flowers, now viewing them in a new light.

[fishylife]

Street Dance of China, Season 4, Episode 7

- The figures make a return!!! I love them, they are so cute.

- Anyway, it’s cute that each of the teams have kind of a common room to chill. Helps with the team atmosphere, I think.

- Yixing playing the flute/pipe that has a gourd at the top. I recall seeing a video where he’s played it before, so the production crew probably got it so that he could show off a bit.

- The fact that Han Geng’s having a cooking class is just reaffirming my beliefs that Han Geng would be the best captain to have if I was a contestant. They have the most fun.

- Yibo is so super serious though. While the other teams are chilling, he’s already thinking of his redemption plan. I’ll be honest, it feels....a little too tense. As a captain, I think he needs to take time for his team to relax and regroup.

- My boy Yixing recruited my boy MT-Pop T_T He gave him the Baymax to accompany when he’s feeling lonely because apparently MT-Pop said that he missed home often T_T Also Yixing was watching for MT-Pop’s expression except he was emotionless and Poppin’C was like no, don’t worry, he’s always like this XD I thought that Baymax suited MT-Pop too because he likes monsters so I think it’s not a reach to guess that he likes superheroes and comics and cool characters. Also, like Baymax, MT-Pop is also friend-shaped. Anyway, I wonder if he was feeling emotional here because he missed home ;_;

- Yixing gave Momo the CUTEST cat lamp T_T

- In the captain interview, Momo asked Yixing if his stomach was alright. I saw in some behind-the-scenes photos that Yixing had a bad stomach that day, so I guess that was why he was so disappointed with his performance. I’d initially thought it was his back problems (because he was shown getting some back massages/chiropractic stuff done to his waist in other behind-the-scenes footage), but I think the back/waist stuff is something that’s been going on for a longer time.

- Lmao Nelson being like “I know girls, they love that cute stuff” XD And he noted how Momo seemed more comfortable with Yixing. To be fair, he’s onto something, I am girl and I love cute stuff and dudes that make me smile. (Though in the end, Momo chose Yibo)

- I thought it was cute that Momo was talking through the wall to MT-Pop, asking if he’d already chosen his team. I love the friendships between the dancer contestants v.v

- Yixing gave copies of his Lit physical album to the Gogo Brothers...all of the fans who couldn’t get their hands on a copy are gonna be mad haha.

- Yixing’s team tried to surprise Gogo Brothers when they joined their team ^^;;

- This is as wild as Yixing is going to go lol. He was waving the scarves being all “WOOHOO!!”

- Yixing and Han Geng’s teams shouting for Bozi across however many rooms made me laugh XD Especially because Bozi is such a stoic dude.

- Yixing’s relief at having recruited Bozi. As we know, he doesn’t have much confidence in recruiting dancers.

- When Bunta and Henry had their interview they were being all “HEYYY MY GUY!!!!” Very buddy-buddy. And then Henry to his team was like “I’ve never talked to Bunta.” The art of faking it gets you far.

- For the contestants who get to choose between two or more captains, they get an extra blind box with a little doll in it. I wonder what that is. It’s so cute, I want one v.v (I love dolls)

- The rejection on Han Geng’s face XD Is this the first time he’s been outplayed?

- In addition to getting everyone on his team to sign the card, Yixing also asked Rei from Gogo Brothers to come with him to recruit Bunta, and it worked in the end.

- Yixing turning the party into a concert being like “MAKE SOME NOISE!!!”

- Not gonna lie, the performances aren’t the best, probably because they’re just for funsies anyway. It doesn’t bother me that much though, at least they look like they’re having fun. As a wise man once said, fun must be always.

- OMG YES YIXING. He went full memery on this XD

- There’s so much going on here. The song they danced to was a famous song by Xiaohudui (a Taiwanese boyband). When questioned about their choice of music, Yixing was like “yeah, we’re an international boyband!” We know Yixing is super serious so the fact that they did this cheesy stuff is supremely surprising but also SUPER AWESOME. The other captains were like “you were too serious!” but the reason why this worked was because they were serious tbh. As Psy once said, dress classy, dance cheesy. Anyway, I’m a fan. Look at how fabulous they are.

- Yibo’s team danced to the Huluwa song. Look at Liangliang’s hair lol.

- You can’t see this very well but Bouboo carried Yibo away in a fireman’s hold.

- So this is how Han Geng’s gonna play it, huh

- There’s just A LOT going on here

- Henry getting lessons from Xiaoji on how to have swag (ft. Xiao Jie as the teaching assistant).

- Yixing kept being like “ge, watch the expression!!”

- You can tell who did and didn’t get their hair done just by looking at who is wearing the headphones properly. Also, I used to be super whatever about cat ear headphones, but now I am so down for them. I want a pair of cat ear headphones even though I never use headphones (prefer earphones).

- Ok this is cute. Xiao Jie is trying to explain the passage to Bouboo in English, but Xiao Jie’s English is a bit limited. At this part he was trying to explain a watermelon to Bouboo and was like “it’s an apple but it’s bigger and it’s green.” Han Geng and Yibo are just having a ball. Look at how big Yibo is laughing? Boy never laughs like that.

- Somehow Bouboo understood Xiao Jie’s English, and then Bouboo was like “your English is very Chinese” which prompted another round of laughs. He would know, he’s probably been around a lot of Chinese people trying to speak English to him.

- Yo, Rochka’s Mandarin pronunciation is REALLY good. He’s really good at replicating the tones.

- Henry, San’er, and Rochka turned their final answer into a song XD

- Yixing tried to game the system lol. Instead of reciting the whole passage, he picked the easiest words. It wasn’t totally perfect, but his method allowed the players to focus on key words instead of memorizing the small details and preposition words. Smartest catboi (y)

- We already knew Henry was good at piano (I know he has at least RCM Level 10, probably has his ARCT too), but he’s also appropriately showy about it.

- OMG ROCHKA SINGING 月亮代表我的心 (ft. Henry harmonizing)

- Now Boris!

- Of course this mf had to whip out the violin.

- Okay so I kept seeing that clip of Yixing dancing to the sexy dance with Ibuki and Qiao Zhi and I had no idea what it was from. NOW I KNOW.

- Henry is SO MEAN he keeps bullying C-Lil and telling him that if he doesn’t do well he has to go home. STOP BULLYING HIM!!!

- The captains keep roping in team members to do the dances with them haha.

- Waiwai was saying how she’s never seen Bozi and Qiao Zhi smile while breaking and yet they look like they’re having a ball learning the sexy dance.

- Yibo did some magic tricks. Something I’ve noticed is that Yibo is actually quite good at public speaking. He makes very few mistakes, barely uses any filler words. Anyway, his first magic trick didn’t quite work, but the rest of them did (y) 

- Han Geng performed a dance that he said he learned when he was very young. I remember when he was still doing stuff regularly with Super Junior, people would ask him to show off the ethnic dances that he’d studied. This performance was exactly that, plus some added shenaniganery at the end.

- I really liked Ma Xiaolong and Rochka’s performances. Ma Xiaolong is such a good singer? Like it’s not just the skill, but he has creativity when he sings. As for Rochka, his performance was just so much fun. He was a good singer too but he also brings such charisma.

- Really sorry to hear about Zyko’s sister :( I can’t be mad, he needs to go home. He looked so down too when he was calling Han Geng. All the best to his family :(  I did really love Zyko on the show. He was so open minded and so easygoing. All the best v.v

- I’m glad that the other contestants got to see him off (AC, Ibuki, Rochka, Ma Xiaolong). Rochka looked so sad. He strikes me as a sympathetic guy, so I don’t doubt that he was troubled by the news too.

- Not gonna lie, the news about Zyko kind of brought my mood down. It’s not that the show is “ruined,” it’s just the idea of his sister being so seriously hurt that’s hard swallow for me. I can’t believe how Zyko must be feeling. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to watch the rest of the show, I guess the news was just a stark reminder that we live in the real world. 

[crowleyellestair]

Headcanons on how the wolves + Jaskier would react to a s/o who is due for their period soon and thus very testy/wheepy? I have just been an atomic bomb this month and it’s driving me and everyone else nuts 😖

AN// I’m sorry it’s rough right now, I feel you 100% I hope you can relate and feel just a touch better through this by laughing or feeling some fluff

 The thing about the boys at Kaer Morhen is that they weren’t really aware of what was happening. Triss had explained it a winter prior due to Ciri’s first cycle, but that hadn’t meant that they were used to it. Sorceresses don’t have these problems, and that was the type of women they were around most of the time. Close friends were always invited to the keep, and when Y/n was invited, it stirred the castle into territory most people wouldn’t think it would go.

Vesemir was the first to notice, being the soft dad he was

-Being as old and as trained as he his, he could simply tell

-He had been quite the gentleman as a young wolf, and was familiar with what to do in general

-Not wanting to truly treat you differently, he still asked for certain chores to be done, keeping you up and walking, but not having to move too much

-Honey and black tea would be specially made for you in the morning, as well as having your seat warm by the time you came down for breakfast

-He made certain your clothes were washed separately and more frequently, wanting to help you feel as clean as possible. The scent of sweat or musk never helps on that front

-Since he also cooks, as well as take care of laundry, he plates your food before taking the large pots to the table. The others thought it was because you became his favorite, and while that was true, he made sure to add extra ginger as that helps with cramps. He had regrets for not growing fennel this season, but he was glad to know that his ginger stock can help make you feel comfortable

Lambert was the first to experience it

-There were pranks to be had between you two

-While Jaskier can take what has been dished, his revenge pranks were never as funny

-He was the one who wasn’t afraid to be rowdy with you, and he found out the hard way that you weren’t up for it

-The witcher had been stalking you through the rafters, waiting until he could pounce

-Cramps weren’t necessarily terrible when approaching time, but you had stopped to rub your lower stomach for a moment, trying to sooth anything before it started

-That was the cat-wannabe’s time to strike

-He slid down the wall behind you, though close enough to whereas he landed, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and he wrapped his legs around your torso in a piggy-back formation

-You immediately went off, turning and falling against the wall

-He evacuated before he would be smashed and as he rounded to the front of you, smirk plastered on his face, you cuffed him as hard as you could

-The tears didn’t come, but the unnecessary adrenaline mixed with the already foul mood

-“Not today, Lambert, I swear to Melitele.”

-His eyes went wide, and he truly felt bad.

-You had never raised your voice, even after that one time he glued your mug of ale to your hand

-He threw out a quick sorry and practically flew down the hall in the direction you had just come from

Geralt had noticed next

-It had been the smell

-Not that you smell, but with the extra mutations, he could sense something

-It had been a familiar thing with Ciri, but he simply couldn’t place it

-He walked in on it as your room was on the way to his

-You had a plant, one Vesemir entrusted you to grow, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t really important. He just thought you might like a little life in your room. The plant began to wilt however, and leaves started to fall. You were in mourning, resting and crying against the wall

-The White Wolf stepped in to ask if you were ok, not realizing the situation before, but quickly stepped out when the real water works started. You clutched the plant to your chest and wept

-He made a swift and silent exit, trying to not interfere with your grief nor the scent in the air

Eskel, the soft soul, hadn’t noticed anything

-The brunette had either been held up in the library trying to fit his new finds into the shelves or he was with Lil’ Bleater

-You had made contact with him in the area where the goat roamed, fawning over the dear

-He had simply thought you shared the same kind of bond with the animal as he did

-It actually pleased him thoroughly to see it, a small grin plastered on his face

-You even went as far as picking the lil’ guy up and holding him

-He hadn’t noticed it then, but looking back, you were certainly too into it

Jaskier found out through the three younger witchers asking

-“You’re fully human, so what’s happening?”

-“What do you mean?” The three other men sitting him down in the main hall’s table. Lambert looked hurt and uncomfortable, and in the smallest voice any of them had ever heard from him, he said,

-“She yelled at me.” Geralt nodded, also noting the difference in behavior

-“Her smell is different. Not bad, just off. I also found her with a plant, crying.” His tone was rough and almost angry, upset with himself for not knowing what was going on, nor knowing how to fix it

-“Now thinking about it, she did seem aggressive in her coddling with Lil’ Bleater.” Eskel’s hand flew to his scarred cheek, a habit he developed whenever he thought something was very wrong

-It took the bard a moment to think of ideas, but the realization still came quickly

-He felt confident in his knowledge, though he had certainly been lucky in his life, never really being in contact with the disastrous side of a period

-Being dramatic, but also very out of his depth in this area, he told the men to leave it to him

-He shouldn’t have

-Jaskier ended up on his ass for trying to give you a massage and for making a mess of your bed by putting frozen wildflower petals over it

-Vesemir stepped in finally, overhearing the conversation, and explained that it wasn’t a voluntary thing. That Geralt could sense the intense shift in hormones, and you were lashing out, but not because you wanted to. He, being logical and a great dad, exaggerated how much you didn’t mean it, and how you most likely felt bad. Subtlety was needed for the situation, and no one needed a grand gesture. It was simply another week in the life of someone with ovaries, and you shouldn’t be treated too differently than usual, simply with a little more care.

The boys understood, but still felt bad for whatever reason. Jaskier was the first to think of a discrete apology, realizing a surprise massage was definitely not the way to go about it. He had come up to you late the same night, a hot rock wrapped in the nicest towel he could find, in hand. His same bubbly atmosphere stayed with him as he gently handed it to you. There wasn’t an actual conversation between the two of you, but he explained somewhat,

“I’ve heard that heated pads where better than massages anyways.” He knew that when he received a soft smile that it was okay.

Eskel was the next to think of something you might appreciate. He had a favorite book, despite reading many titles over his time. Embarrassingly enough, it was a smaller romance novella about a noble woman falling in love with a dwarf that worked in her families mine. You didn’t need to know it was his favorite, but he left it in your spot as an offering, knowing how he becomes so wrapped up in the book that he looses a sense of reality while reading it. He simply wanted you to lose yourself or whatever you felt, even just for a moment.

Geralt had become spoiled on his travels with Jaskier and Ciri. He fell in love with chamomile oil and honey exfoliation soap. The scent wasn’t overbearing, and the small grains in it from the oat really made one feel clean. There was a bathing order for everyone, his lining up right before yours. Geralt had extra bars, leaving one for you one night. It was like the others, just with a hint of orange zest. He knew you wouldn’t smell or sense what he could, and again, it wasn’t bad, but he knew how you appreciated feeling clean before this.

Lambert was the last to think of something. This had been traumatic for him, the young witcher taking a liking to you more than he had with someone since Aiden. He never thought he had to apologize for anything, nor has he ever had to come up with something to make someone more comfortable. Of course, he knew he didn’t have to, but he truly cared, and wanted to do something nice. And that came in the form of fur a week after the boys’ realization.

He was always freezing, and always wrapped in fur blankets. He had made sure he had the best furs, scratchy furs being uncomfortable. His favorite was a black and grey wolf pelt he had taken from this overly large wolf he found in the Skellege mountains. No matter where he dragged it, how many times he washed it, or overused it, it continued to be the softest thing he’s felt. Lambert would be spotted frequently at night being wrapped in said fur as he would pad down to use the bathroom. The fur had been cleaned and placed on your bed one night, though when you ventured to his room to ask about it, he was hidden. He was watching of course, and only relaxed when he watched you shrug and wrap the blanket around your shoulders. They all wanted your pain to leave as you mattered to them. They all wanted you safe and secure, but none of you can help it. They all swore they would try their damndest to make you comfortable in caring ways

[the-currian]

Finally emptied my askbox!

Well, to be more accurate, I finished all my requests. The askbox ate the original ask, so shoutout to the anon who wanted Hisoka angst!

“I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Hisoka x Reader

It was insidious.

At first your curiosity was small. Harmless. When you heard the up-and-coming Mankai Company was having an act-off against the famed God Troupe, you knew that you had to catch both their performances. God Troupe’s performance was flashy and impactful as always, and while the leads of Mankai had a subtle flair of their own, it was one of their supporting cast members that truly caught your eye. You were captivated by his unique stage presence. He appeared confident and secure in his acting but underneath it all you could sense a hint of sadness that drew you in further.

To your shock and utter delight, he plays one of the leads in his sub-troupe’s next play.

“Hisoka…” you whisper to yourself as you trace the actor’s name on the flyer you received.

His gaze pierced straight through your heart, leading you to make an impulsive decision. Quickly scrounging up what leftover funds you had for the month, you resolve to attend all of their performances.

Watching Hisoka act night after night onstage makes your heart bleed for this man that you hadn’t even officially met. Again, you resonate with the melancholic aura that he gives off. It’s silly, really – the most interaction you’ve had with him was at the end of each play when the actors went to the lobby to personally thank and see their patrons off, yet there was just something so hauntingly beautiful about the man, and before you knew it you were drawn in deep.

You wanted to know more.

Days pass after the play’s closing night and you feel as if you’re in a drought – deprived of your favorite muse.

‘Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I should just keep this admiration as a fan, after all.’

Trying to lift up your spirits, you visit a newly opened cat café. As you walk through the doors, a paw-shaped bell gently chimes and a smile blooms on your face. Immediately, you are comforted by the mellow atmosphere that the establishment exudes. While you take your time to observe the café, a white Japanese bobtail cat walks up to you and gently nuzzles your leg, trying to grab your attention. You slowly squat down to pet the feline and it purrs at your touch.

“Welcome.” a familiar voice greets you sleepily.

Looking up, you yelp in surprise and fall onto your bum at the realization that the worker in front of you is Hisoka. Unperturbed, the fluffy cat you were petting moves over to plop down into your lap.

“Marshmallow.” Hisoka chides lightly, picking up the fur ball and cradling it in his arms. “You’re not supposed to play with the customers until they’ve gotten a table.”

The cat mewls lowly in response, and your heartbeat quickens at the affectionate smile that spreads on Hisoka’s face.

“I’m surprised that Marshmallow has taken a liking to you so easily.” He mumbles, shooting you a curious glance. “Anyway, please follow me to sign a waiver for playing with the cats.”

You quickly read through the document and sign the paper without fuss. Hisoka looks over it and nods before leading you to a table low enough for you to interact with the cats but still kneel comfortably.

Somehow, amidst your internal freak-out, you manage to address Hisoka, “Do you have any recommendations?”

His eyes immediately light up and you find his giddiness to be infectious as he lists several suggestions. “The hot chocolate with marshmallow crème is good. So is the s’mores cupcake – they put a giant toasted marshmallow on top. Oh, but the chocolate marshmallow mousse is also one of our best-sellers…”

You stifle a laugh and scratch the ears of the fluffy white cat in your lap. “I take it that you’re the one that named Marshmallow, then?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I get carried away again? The manager says I need to work on that. Something about how not all people would want to eat marshmallows when they’re here, which is ridiculous.” Hisoka mutters the last sentence under his breath, but you still manage to catch what he says and find it quite endearing paired with the pout on his face.

“It’s fine. Those all sound amazing, and I’m going to be here awhile, so I’ll have those three that you mentioned.” You say with what you hope is a reassuring smile.

“Okay. I’ll be back with your marshmallows soon.” He quirks a shy smile before heading back to the kitchen with your order.

Once he’s out of sight you let out a huge sigh, grabbing at your chest, willing your heartbeat to slow down. As if sensing your distress, Marshmallow meows loudly and rubs his head against your hand.

“Alright, alright.” You murmur in a placating tone and obligingly scratch behind Marshmallow’s ears. He makes a satisfied chirping noise in response. Minutes pass by as you absentmindedly pet the cat while you take in the café’s ambience.

Hisoka returns with a serving tray full of marshmallow treats as promised, and your mouth waters as he sets them on the table. You turn your gaze away from the table to thank Hisoka but find that he is also transfixed on your food. A pout appears on his face and the gaze in his eyes as he regards the marshmallows is almost longing.

Mustering up your courage, you ask, “Um… would you like to join me? I kinda just realized that this is way too much for me to finish by myself…”

Hisoka’s gaze locks onto yours, his expression the liveliest you’ve ever seen off stage. “You sure?”

Brain short-circuiting over how adorable he looks, you only barely manage to nod back.

“Hold on.” Hisoka says, rushing off to the kitchen with an unnatural speed. Before you can really process the interaction, he’s already back at your table and kneeling opposite from you. “My manager said I can take a break for a short while since there’s not too many customers right now. Thanks for sharing your marshmallows…” he trails off. Realizing you forgot to introduce yourself, you immediately do so.

He softly smiles in return. “My name is Hisoka Mikage.”

“Ah, I have to confess that I already knew that.” You laugh nervously. His eyes narrow at you in suspicion, and you honestly don’t blame him. However, the dangerous aura he suddenly exudes has you recoiling a bit. “I, uh… I’ve seen you act before in the Mankai Company.”

His demeanor relaxes ever so slightly at your explanation, but you can tell he’s still on edge.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that I’m a big fan of your acting and I can’t really believe that I’m seeing you outside of your show runs.”

Still, Hisoka remains silent, staring at you coolly from across the table. Wordlessly, you slide over the chocolate marshmallow mousse to his side as a sort of placating gesture. Hisoka’s eyes narrow even further, squinting at the dessert as if it had personally offended him.

“Is this a bribe?

“…Is it working?”

Hisoka puts a spoonful of the mousse into his mouth and hums thoughtfully as he takes his time to savor the flavor. Seconds pass agonizingly slow before he simply nods at you.

“Apology accepted.”

You feel as if a huge weight is lifted off of your shoulders.

From that day forward you get to know more about Hisoka Mikage, rather than Hisoka the Winter Troupe member of Mankai Company who you so ardently idolized.

And so what if you still idolized him for that? It’s not like it took away from the real affection you had for him as a friend.

‘Only as a friend.’ You think to yourself glumly.

You were thankful for his friendship, really. After that day you two officially met, you frequented the café quite often. In return, Hisoka would set aside his break time for whenever you stopped by. Your relationship had gotten close enough that he felt comfortable resting his head in your lap. You always teased him for this, calling him a “cuddle monster that can only be satiated by naps and marshmallows”. Hisoka has no qualms with this and completely accepts his role.

However, despite the progress you’ve made, you could sense that there’s a barrier he always had up. You could tell that he was trying but there were times that Hisoka would get a faraway look in his eyes as the two of you lazed about. It was during these moments that you felt so close but still so far from him.

One day, he decides that the two of you should hang out at a beach – which is frankly quite ridiculous given the season. Within the first few minutes of arriving, Hisoka remains silent, so you decide to tell him as such.

“So… what’s the reason for taking to me to the beach on this cold winter day?” you joke, trying to lighten the heavy aura Hisoka exudes.

His eyes suddenly snap over to yours as if broken out of a reverie. Just as you’re about to let it be – Hisoka gets into these moods at times, after all – he replies.

“This beach is a place I’ve only shared with my troupe members; it’s a significant place to who I was – to who I am. You’ve become an…” he pauses, mulling over his words carefully. “…important person to me. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about you that makes me feel safe. But–“

Filled with a surge of affection at his words, you blurt out, “Would you like to maybe make this official?”

Hisoka stares at you incomprehensively.

‘Hell, I’ve gotten this far already.’ You think to yourself, thoroughly embarrassed, but determined. ‘I may as well let it all out.’

“I’m sorry if I’m coming on too strong, but this has been on my mind for a long while. Ever since we met at the café – maybe even long before that, when I first saw your acting,” You give him a watery smile. “I was so intrigued by you. I always felt like there was something that just drew me to you. You can’t believe how ecstatic I was that we were able to become friends. But lately, it just hasn’t been enough for me. I’m sorry. I’ve fallen for you.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, scared to see his reaction.

“I love you, Hisoka. If you’ll have me, I’d like the chance to make you happy as your friend, but even more so as your partner.”

Seconds tick by, your anxiety skyrocketing in the silence, when Hisoka’s words strike straight through your heart.

“I can’t.”

“…Oh.” Your voice cracks, tears welling up in your eyes at his rejection. “I see. I totally get it. Don’t worry, you don’t have to be obligated or anything because of my feelings. I’m sorry – “

“Wait.” Hisoka cuts you off then makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not you, I promise.” He grabs your arm causing you to freeze in place, preventing you from making your escape. “It’s not fair to you. I know it isn’t, but…”

“But?” you prompt.

“I don’t know if I can trust you.” Hisoka mumbles, head bowed low, unable to look you in the eye. “…and it kills me.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

“There are things that I’m still trying to figure out for myself – things I’m still trying to figure about myself. To drag you into it would be selfish of me. You don’t deserve that.”

“And if I said I didn’t care?” you sob. “What if I told you that I want to help you through it?”

Hisoka makes a pained expression at your words, letting go of your arm as if he was burned. He returns back to his shell that you so desperately tried to pull him out of. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. This is my burden to bear… I’m sorry.”

And just like that, he walks away.

The next day you go to the café where you first met. You pet Marshmallow when he comes over to you as you take a seat at your usual spot, but Hisoka never shows up.

[letshaikyuu]

ᑎO ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ ᗯEᖇE ᗷᒪOOᗰIᑎG (ᗩKᗩᗩᔕᕼI KEIᒍI ᔕᑕEᑎᗩᖇIO)

Synopsis: Akaashi and you were childhood crushes that got separated when you moved away. Social media was never enough to fill the void. What will Akaashi do when you come back and one of his teammates seems to have a crush on you?

A/N: I am not very skilled in writing scenarios so bear with me here. It’s also a female reader insert, sorry boys :(

Word count: 2522

No flowers were blooming in spring anymore for Akaashi Keiji. He was making towards the school grounds like it was just any other day. It was just another dull start to his second year of high school without you by his side. Akaashi would never forget the time you two picked flowers for your flower crowns that one spring day, mere days before school was supposed to start and you were to crouch into new school adventures. It felt like any other ordinary day outside while your mothers were sipping some tea inside the house. But, Keiji was not unfamiliar with emotions and facial expressions, even at a young age he was able to differentiate different emotions even though people tried hiding them. You were nowhere near the happy and cheerful girl that filled the silence with your childish glee and laughter. You were so quiet.

»»---------------------►

"Keiji..."

A whisper that would have been hard to hear for many, but Keiji knew your voice by heart. Looking up, his eyes were fixed on the tears filling up your eyes that were dangerously close to falling. Keiji was never the one to show much emotion or care, but this situation didn't fail to angrily burn his heart. What was going on?

Your next words burned his already aching heart even more as you let your tears freely fall down your face. Keiji didn't move. You didn't have the heart to wait for his reply so Keiji was left alone, eyes locking on your running figure that found comfort into your mother's arms. You two left soon after. Keiji was still sitting on his knees in the garden. Your neatly made flower crown on the ground was beside him and fallen apart. Was this happening?

"Keiji...I'm leaving Japan tomorrow."

»»---------------------►

The first day of school was over and he was already tired. He wanted to go back home and close himself off from the outside world for a few hours. Grab his phone and go through his gallery. Besides the huge amount of Bokuto's selfies on his phone, here and there a screenshot from his social media accounts popped up. Keiji was never the one for social media. It was a waste of time, he would say. What was the point in endlessly scrolling and looking through profiles of people you probably don't even know? But Keiji does have social media. It wasn't his choice. His mother bought him a newer phone shortly after you moved away. "So you can stay in touch even when she's so far away," his mother said to him when she gave him the phone and ruffled his hair, "there's no point in giving up, is there Keiji?"

That is how Keiji tried to stay in contact with you. You easily found each other on social media and he was glad you still wanted to talk to him. At first, your messages were frequent and filled with stories about your new school and friends. There wasn't a moment to put away your phone cause the messages kept coming. Keiji would merely reply with a "that's nice" and "hope you're liking it there", but he always read them all with a sad smile on his face. You seemed to fit in well with the people there. Keiji always admired you for that. It was you who decided to befriend this quiet, little boy in the house beside yours when you were little. He will never admit how much he appreciated you for that.

The worst part is that Keiji started developing a crush on you. He tried to talk himself out of it by seeing it was normal to have such feelings at a young age and that they will evaporate as he grows older. But they never did. You were becoming more and more beautiful as the days and seasons went by and Keiji couldn't wrap his head around what was happening with him. That little crush of his didn't go unnoticed. His mother figured it out very quickly and never failed to embarrass Keiji whenever he announced he was going out to play with you.

"You'll make a fine gentleman one day Keiji. Don't you forget that."

Unconsciously, he smiled at his mother's words as he entered the hot gym. The sounds of volleyball hitting the ground were enough to snap him out of his thoughts and refocus at the task at hand. He had practice. Bokuto Koutarou was loudly yelling at his kouhai and teasing him about how he's late and he was to do extra laps at the end of the training. The rest of the team chuckled at his words because there was no way Bokuto was going to stick to that.

"I apologize Bokuto-san. It won't happen again." Akaashi's words cut through the once cheerful atmosphere like a knife as he walked towards the locker room to change. Bokuto looked at the figure of his best friend that was soon lost with the door closing behind him. He was named captain for a reason. Bokuto Koutarou, no matter the excessive amounts of mood swings he has, knows when something is going on...and in Akaashi's case, he had quite a good guess as to what is bothering him.

When Keiji stepped foot on the court and started playing, there was no doubt in Bokuto's mind that his bad performance was caused by overflowing thoughts in his head. There was no beating around the bush in this situation, especially when the others knew about this.

"Oi Akaashi." His voice was rather serious for someone who's usually so cheerful and filled with positive energy. Keiji knew where this was leading to and he was dreading every second of it. "Isn't Y/N coming back soon?"

There it was. The ever-so sensitive topic to Akaashi Keiji. How Bokuto found out was still a mystery to him, but it was futile to hide anything from his curious senpai. He didn't mind. It was something that was in the past and there was no need to run away from it. Or at least that's how Keiji wanted his feelings to be portrayed. The ball that was being held in his hand was tossed back in with the others in the trolley as Keiji called it a day. The practice was soon to be over anyway. His teammates, especially the senpais, knew him well enough to know when Keiji is done with something so they didn't want to meddle. But meddling was Bokuto Koutarou's middle name.

"Akaashi I'm-"

"There is no need to apologize Bokuto-san. I am doing just fine and there is no guarantee that Y/N is coming back." Keiji knew he was lying, but the way those words effortlessly came out of his mouth made him think otherwise. He has told himself this lie over and over again that it sounded like the truth.

Back home, Keiji took out his phone to scroll through his gallery. He knew by heart where those screenshots of your conversations were. He started looking at them.

»»---------------------► Sept. 12th

"Heeeeey Keiji I just saw this cool painting of flowers the other day! I remember how much you loved hydrangeas! They always made your eyes pop heh"

"That sounds nice Y/N"

"You know I always think of my best friend Keiji ;)"

"Of course I do. I do the same"read 11:17pm

»»---------------------► Dec. 17th

"Hey...is everything alright there? We haven't talked in a while...I know we're both busy, but let's not let that stop us from talking!"

"Don't worry about that, but I have to go now. Sorry."

"Oh...that's okay...Take care Keiji"

"You too."read 10:47pm

»»---------------------►Feb. 8th

"Akaashi guess what! I'm moving back to Japan this year!! I can't wait to see you, I missed you so much..."seen 00:23am

»»---------------------►

Keiji would be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat when he saw your last text message. He didn't know how to feel. That childish glee he felt years before, while you were still here, warmed his heart and he didn't know how to react. The memories of your childhood adventures made him smile in remembrance, but was he ready for this? Were flowers blooming again in his heart?

»»---------------------►

The following day had an eerie feeling to it. Keiji wasn't sure what was happening, but it felt odd. He felt odd. Like there was a nest of angry crows battling inside of him. His head was hurting as well. Walking towards the gym, he felt as if he would pass out at any moment. Were you moving back to Japan? In the back of his mind, Keiji knew that neither his heart or his head was ready to see you again and confront you about his feelings. Maybe you were leaving a boyfriend behind. Maybe you even found a loving girlfriend. You were probably heartbroken that you had to leave your friends and move back here at such age. Was it necessary to list all the bad things about mo-

"Keiji?"

Just like a flower's bloom in spring, Keiji's heart fluttered at the sound of such a sweet and loving tone. To some, it was just an everyday voice that you could hear everywhere. To Keiji, it was a bird's chirp, a kid's giggle, a heart's warmth. There was no doubt in his mind that it was you.

"Y/N?" His eyes looked up and in the crowd of tall figures, he easily spots you. You grew up into a beautiful girl. Your face matured and so did your body. But your eyes...your eyes still held that mischievousness and happiness they had years ago when Keiji saw them filled with tears. That was a sight that haunted him for years as it was the last time Keiji saw you before your move. He couldn't have you walking out on him at the airport, your small body growing further and further away. It was a big bite to swallow for little Keiji.

But here you were, looking as beautiful as ever...with Konoha's arm over your shoulder? What even-

"Omg Keiji it's really you!" You smiled widely at the sight of your childhood friend, but your feet were planted firmly to where you were standing. You two kind of drifted apart these past few months, there was no doubt about it. He didn't even read your last message to him and you were so excited about moving back and possibly confessing to him. Would it be too much to run to him and hug him tightly? To feel all the emotions begging to be released on the surface as his arms tighten around you?

"Would it be that bad to feel your love again?"

»»---------------------►

There was no way in hell that Keiji was going to let you date Konoha. There was no problem with him or if he had a girlfriend, but it was not going to be you. It was official. You moved back to Japan for what seems forever, you were in Fukurodani and Konoha Akinori had a crush on you. Akaashi Keiji was jealous. That too was official.

Unfortunately for Keiji, you became close friends with the team so you frequented coming to practice a lot. Although the awkward silence that filled the gym whenever you and Keiji were in the same room wasn't easy to ignore, the team tried to let you two clear the air by yourselves. And no, Konoha did not have a crush on you, but he did have a plan. Make Akaashi so jealous that he has to confess to you to move on! That's right, Fukurodani does not meddle.

Konoha was pushing his limits very much and Keiji's tolerance was reaching a big, fat zero very fast. It wasn't until he bluntly asked you out on a date that Akaashi felt like waiting longer would mean losing you forever. Storming out of the gym with your forearm in his grasp, Keiji left the gym with a smirking Konoha behind.

"Akaashi- What is wrong with you!?" You pulled your arm out of his grip and stood your ground. "Who gave you the right to pull me out of there like that!?"

You were prepared with an onslaught of comments regarding his unusual behavior, but you bit your tongue. Why was he fuming in rage? There could've easily been steam coming out of his ears. But your words made him even angrier and sadder. What happened to calling him Keiji? To teasing him about how much you found his name gorgeous and fitting for such a guy like himself? You always brought a smile on his face whenever his name left your lips. Now, it was nowhere to be heard of.

He tried to calm himself down, but the years of keeping quiet and not having you around were too much for him to keep his usual calm demeanor. Turning around, he took a deep breath before opening his eyes to look at your shocked face. Taking a cautious step forwards, he took hold of your hands before continuing.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted Y/N back there. I'm also sorry for letting us drift apart." His mellow voice sounded out into the quiet, night background. There was no one in sight and Keiji felt it was easier to voice out his thoughts. "You can't imagine how much I missed you and wanted you to come back to me."

Tears were brimming in your eyes again, but this team Keiji was there to handle them when they fall.

"I love you Y/N...I did when we were kids and I...I still do now." His hand moved to wipe the stray tear slowly trickling down your face and he was quick to pull you into a hug. He was not letting you run away from him this time.

"Keiji w-why didn't you say anything before?"

He chuckled and that wonderful sound was music to your ears. "We were just kids back then. Nothing would've changed you moving away, wouldn't it?"

Keiji knew he was right. He may have doubted his decision before, but now it felt like it was the right thing to have waited this long. In the end, you were in his arms as both of you have already wanted and there was no doubt in his mind that this was exactly where you belong.

"You know what Keiji..," you moved away from his chest and lovingly took hold of his face. You couldn't have even dreamed about Keiji growing up into someone this handsome and beautiful. It was better than any painting your eyes saw of hydrangeas that reminded you of him. This in front of you, was a true piece of art. And you were happy to call it yours.

"I love you too Keiji...ever since we were kids."

No flowers were blooming in spring for Akaashi Keiji. Now, flowers were blooming in every season. In spring they were at their peak. In summer they were constantly with him and keeping him company. In autumn they would slowly start falling asleep and in winter there has always been this one flower that survived the harsh weather and snow that keeps blooming only for him. And that flower will always be you.

[davidmann95]

Comics this week (3/10/2021)?

cheerfullynihilistic said: Comics this week (03/10/21)??

adudewholikescomicsandotherstuff said: This week’s comics?

Anonymous said: Comics?

Anonymous said: 3/10 NCBD?

Non-Stop Spider-Man #1: The lead story was fun, the backup was dopey, I’ll give it another issue or two to see where it goes.

The Immortal Hulk #44: While it was too late for this week I’ve taken Hulk off my pull list, so the store won’t order any copies specifically for me and therefore my future purchase of the book won’t support Joe Bennett’s presence, just the store. This issue is typical of some of the books’ weaker installments of the last year or so - feels like well-done regular superhero comics instead of Immortal Hulk - but those last couple pages bring it back around.

Daredevil #28: Holy cow, those King In Black issues actually mattered. God this book is still so fuckin’ good in so many ways, everything every dumbass street-level superhero ‘deconstruction’ wants to be when it grows up.

Children of the Atom #1: Sucks real bad! This weird combo of ‘hip new young Marvel heroes!’ trappings and soulless X-Men lifer comics execution that feels certain to appeal to neither group.

Eternals #3: Of the listed Deviants I imagine I’d relate most to Annoyed Veug.

Commanders in Crisis #6: While I remain without the ability to weigh in on this objectively, this is the issue that to date most feels like it lives up to the promises of the series premiere.

The Wrong Earth: Night & Day #3: Little disappointed personally with the reveal of what the third world is - I assumed it was going to be more of a straight take ‘modern’ version to the other two’s flavors of throwbacks - but this series still rules. And that ending.

Home Sick Pilots #4: Okay, I think I can follow what’s happening at this point, still enjoying it.

Proctor Valley Road #1: I review these books in the order I present them to my dad since he likes DC/Marvel/Other to each be lumped together, but make no mistake: this is the last of the three Morrison books to read this week, because this is what comes next for them. A return to their roots - 70s kids way into music and dealing with the weird, girls adventure stories of the kind they apparently grew up reading - this feels like a refinement of their mid/late-00s Vertigo work in the same way they’ve been iterating on their superhero material for decades. The horror is sold excellently, whether by their own efforts or thanks to cowriter Alex Child this is their most fluid, ‘real’-sounding dialogue perhaps ever, and Franquiz with Bonvillain are instantly among their all-time best collaborators, perfectly capturing the shifting tone and character acting necessary to best put Morrison’s big ideas over in a way a number of their collaborators haven’t lived up to over the years (and speaking of the visuals, Jim Campbell does the lord’s work with that lettering trick near the end). Ritesh Babu and Sean Dillon have a lot more to say about the book and how it already acts as a darker, more honest take on your Stranger Things and the like as a commentary on its times, but I’m already loving to see this particular return down to Earth for Morrison and company and I’m glad to hear this is selling really well compared to their previous indie work.

Dead Dog’s Bite #1: This actually came out last week, but Ritesh recommended it so I figured it might be worth a look. A so far intensely low-key missing persons mystery with a touch of surreality around its edges, this already looks to be the best “look! A nine-panel grid! Fancy!” comic since Mister Miracle, really lived-in and emotional for as little happens in this debut. Very curious where it’s going.

Rorschach #6: I continue to like it.

Batman: Urban Legends #1: Glory be, a good Jason Todd comic - at last, you noble stubborn weirdoes living off of like six nonconsecutive panels all these years, you may lay down your burden. Not all you’d necessarily hope from Zdarsky tackling Gotham after what he’s been doing with Daredevil but rock-solid work regardless; the Harley story is fine, Outsiders is a letdown after Thomas’s shockingly good showing for them in Future State but it’s still fine, and the Grifter stuff is fun.

The Joker #1: I thought the advertised ‘a Joker story from Gordon’s POV’ angle was an interesting one even if I was concerned this book would in practice be pure editorial mandate, but in reality? Tynion has managed to pull the wool over DC’s eyes and do a full-on Jim Gordon book (one predicated with him being off the force to make it reasonably comfortable read in 2021) with Joker as the barest of pretexts to get it out the door and selling for as long as he wants to continue it. He even said in interviews that when the book was first pitched to him that his response was that a Joker solo book was a dumb unworkable idea until he had an idea for a ‘different way to approach it’, he knows exactly what he’s doing and I salute him. And it’s a darn good Gordon book even if the Punchline backup is predictably tepid, I’m in the tank for Gotham’s perpetual whipping boy dealing with weird noir international crime with Joker sort of hanging around in the background menacingly to justify the nominal premise.

Anonymous said: Hey, so I figure one random anon won’t change your mind, but like you I was disappointed by New Frontier’s immortal Wonder Woman, but I still got the new issue of Wonder Woman cause Wonder Woman at Valhalla still sounds great and I actually liked it! I think I’m gonna get at least the next issue, so there’s at least one recommendation for it

Wonder Woman #770: This combined with the store still putting it in my pile prompted me to give it a try after all, and whether because something here clicks better or if they’re simply not trying so hard without the pressure of doing a ‘final’ story for Diana, Cloonan and Conrad do in fact do substantially better on the main book than they did with Immortal Wonder Woman. Some fun, some fights, some mythology and intrigue, gorgeous landscapes and generous servings of beefcake from Travis Moore - this isn’t going to be sweeping the Eisners, but this is as enjoyable as a Wonder Woman comic has been in a good long time. My only concern is that the joyousness on display here might dissipate somewhat once Diana fully returns to herself, but in the meantime this was a very pleasant surprise (especially with the the Young Diana backup by Bellaire, Ganucheau, Goode, and Carey).

Superman #29: PKJ’s Superman thus far has been a story of overcoming initial worries of mine - in this case, my concern that he’d have a bad Scott Snyder-ey case of “if you’ve read the interviews you’ve pretty much already heard the dialogue of the comic verbatim”. In practice here most of what he’s had to say about these issues are distilled down really succinctly and poignantly in the midst of a fun little upper-atmosphere adventure portending something grimmer, and while I know it didn’t click with everyone I thought Phil Hester’s work here was a perfect accompaniment. The Tales of Metropolis backup wasn’t nearly as enjoyable, but hints at some interesting worldbuilding I’m hopeful will pay off in the main run.

The Green Lantern Season Two #12: The final Grant Morrison DC comic. One of two anyway, but if the next story I discuss is their broader final (non-Klaus, hopefully) statement on the superhero subgenre and a bridge to what they’re doing next, this is the one that’s about being The Final Grant Morrison DC Comic. A mélange of pretty much all their other DC finales into a shamelessly self-reflective meditation on the limits of what they can accomplish in shared universe storytelling where Green Lantern saves the universe through collective action and then fucks off to do his own thing elsewhere while the kids take over the ongoings. Weird and kinda perfect, and if nothing else this series took Liam Sharp from “really? This dude is drawing the last ever Morrison DC ongoing?” to “HOLY FUCKING SHIT LIAM SHARP”.

(The panel folks blew up over I think can be read multiple ways, but not in a ‘it’s open to interpretation!’ way so much as the storytelling/framing being unclear. I personally read it as ‘this is what neighbor versus neighbor looks like now’ rather than ‘calling someone a TERF or a Nazi is as bad as anything the other side does’, because oldster and out of touch though they may be I can’t see Morrison seriously saying that, especially after coming out.)

Wonder Woman Earth One Volume 3: At long last, after a hideous misfire kicking the series off and a second installment best described as ‘well, at least it wasn’t the first one’, this while not without elements I want to see femme and nonbinary critics discuss critically lives up to what you want to see out of ‘Grant Morrison’s Wonder Woman’. Big utopian fiction breaking the typical boundaries of superhero stories with aplomb in implicit conversation with a ton of their previous work, a bridge from what they’ve done to what they’re doing next, it’s an imperfect (especially with Paquette’s art, which while gorgeous and majestic in the way this story demands really doesn’t living up to the ‘acting’ necessary here in a way thrown into sharp contrast by Franquiz in PVR) but shockingly passionate statement of intent - if the last two volumes felt like Morrison struggling to have something to say with Wonder Woman in the same way they did with Superman and Batman, this feels at the close like them at last finding in her a way to do everything left with the cape and tights crowd they wanted to but couldn’t manage anywhere else under the Big Two umbrella. Odd and lovely, a fine sendoff.

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Forget Me Nots

A wealthy young man falls overboard while vacationing with friends only to find himself with amnesia and a pretty young wife who seems determined to remind him what hard work and dedication really mean.

Warnings: Strong language, angry Min Yoongi inaccurately portrayed based upon the writer’s imagination,angst, eventual super fluff.

Pairing: Eventual Min Yoongi x reader

Word count: 2911

A/n: So this one came out a bit longer than normal hehe. But like, it’s time yall. To wrap this bad boy up and say goodnight to this series. The next chapter with be the epilogue!~ It’s been a real pleasure writing even thoguh I had some very serious writer’s block going in. But it’s just gotten so much love and that alone made me want to come back and write it. Y/n and Yoongi have had quite the journey yeah? Anyway! Hope yall enjoy!

<<Chapter Nine---Epilogue>>

She glanced up, eyes widening at the zombie like figure that stumbled from the employee exit of Rose’s restaurant. She’d set out from home at the end of his shift, knowing he wouldn’t want to take public transit to get home but fully not expecting the sight that shuffled towards her now. His once navy work shirt was now stained and darkened from all manner of food stuff and his once minty fluff of hair was plastered half haphazardly to his forehead.

Shaking herself out of her stupor she moved to get out of the car but stopped when Yoongi yanked open the passenger door with the last of his strength and toppled into the seat with all the grace of a limp mannequin.

“Sh...are….are you okay?” She stared down at the soggy pile of rags, startling when a single eye stared up at her through his sweat stiffened bangs and mumbled a single word.

“Home.”

“Right…” Shifting in her seat she turned the key in the ignition, waiting patiently for Yoongi to close the door and put on his seatbelt before pulling out of the parking lot and into the busy evening traffic.

The atmosphere in the small vehicle was strained. Though she was pretty sure that it was mostly just her. That single exhausted stare had reminded her far too much of the first moment they’d spent together.

The anger and disgust he’d displayed when speaking to her was such a contrast to the sweet man that’s made dinner for her and asked about her day. Frankly she was terrified that despite the bonding they’d managed everything would go out the window the moment she said the wrong thing.

She glanced over at the young man curled up in the seat beside her when traffic paused at a red light. He’d tucked his legs beneath him somehow, head resting against the glass of the window as he stared out at the hustle and bustle of the street outside.

Their gazes met for the briefest of moments in the reflection of the window but she quickly averted her eyes and refocused her attention on the red light.

They still hadn’t spoken by the time she pulled into the driveway, each lost in their own quagmire of thoughts and emotions as she unlocked the front door. Luckily she’d let the dogs out into the backyard before she’d left so they weren't there to greet them when they walked inside.

She stepped to the side as Yoongi brushed past her at the door. He only paused long enough to kick his shoes off before making a beeline straight for the hallway leading back to their bedroom, presumably with the intent of taking a long and much needed hot shower.

Her fist curled around her keys as she stood in the entryway for a moment longer rationalizing his silence. Rose has promised the shift was going to be an easy one, though nothing was ever easy in the restaurant industry, or predictable for that matter.

With a sigh she kicked off her own shoes, making her way into the kitchen and tossing her keys on the counter as she busied herself with the motions of making dinner. There was no point in dwelling on it now. What was done was done and she’d just have to deal with the fallout when it came. And hopefully it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as she was expecting it to be.

***

They still hadn’t spoken by the time dinner had been made and consumed and the dishes had been washed and put away. The living room was silent as they sat tucked into their respective corners of the couch. She scrolled through social media on her phone, eyes glancing over to his partially snoozing form every now and again to check on him.

The frown between his eyebrows had eased up slightly, though the tension in his shoulders was a long way from easing up. She couldn’t help but to sigh. Every cell in her being was  screaming for her to speak. Ask if he was okay, ask how his day went or if he regretted any of it.

Before she could say anything though her thoughts were interrupted by a whine from one of the dogs laying at their feet, followed by a massive crashing boom that rumbled through the tiny house and rattled some of the dishes in the cabinets.

Yoongi jolted awake at the sound, wild eyes seeking out her frantic form as she bolted down from the couch to grab a hold of Champ’s harness. The three legged dog was in a full panic, struggling so harshly against the harness that had he been in a collar he’d have surely choked himself to death.

“Shh baby. I’m here.” her soothing tones seemed to calm the dog for a moment but another resounding thunderclap shook the house, followed by the roaring hammer of raindrops on the roof. The cacophony of sound sent the dog into such a frenzy he was climbing into his owner’s lap in a desperate attempt to shield himself from the sudden onslaught of sound.

Yoongi stared on in confusion, unsure on how to help and yet reaching out an unsteady hand just in case there was something he could do.

“Hey…” His fingertips brushed against her shoulder and her head whipped around, eyes filled with panic. He held his hands up in surrender until the panic faded slightly from her eyes. “Is there...is there anything I can do to help?”

After a calming breath she nodded, shooting him a hesitant smile over the trembling mass of fur in her arms. “In the laundry room is a kennel. It’s folded flat beside the washing machine under a pile of blankets. Could you bring it and the blankets here?”

Yoongi nodded, jumping to his feet and making his way down the hall to the laundry room. It took him only a moment to find the kennel in question, a massive metal monstrosity folded flat and leaning against the wall with a large pile of blankets on top. Carefully he lugged it to the living room, wincing at the scraping sound when he almost lost the blankets tucked under his arm and the kennel dragged slightly on the hallway floor.

“Where do you want it?” He huffed, leaning it against the arm of the sofa as he waited for further instruction.

After pointing out a spot for it she began giving him instructions on how to set it up, telling him in quiet tones to pull Kaia’s bed into the huge expanse. The second the bed was in place Champ was scrambling from her lap, shoving past Yoongi to curl up in the bed. He tucked his snoot beneath his tail, eyes shut tight with the tiniest of whimpers as Kaia climbed in calmly after him.

Thunder rumbled through the room, causing the two humans to flinch and yet in the safety of the kennel Champ was quiet.

“Just toss the blankets over the top. But keep the door open, that way they can come out once the storm is over.” Y/n sighed, bracing herself on the side of the sofa as she stood and nodded in approval when Yoongi created the perfect dark cave for the two pups to cuddle within.

“Huh...that actually worked.” Yoongi wondered aloud as he made a few final adjustments to the blankets before returning to his corner of the sofa.

She nodded, joining Yoongi in tucking herself in and shooting him a tired smile. “I think it’s an instinct thing. Wolves usually hide out in caves during storms. Or at least I think they do. Some call to their ancestors or something like that. Either way Champie boy’s terrified of storms and this is the only way he stays calm.”

“Ah...that explains why your friend Rose called him Thunderchicken at work today when she asked about him.”

She snorted,a soft smile curling her lips as she stared lovingly down at the kennel. “He’ll protect me from every dark shadow and passing car at the drop of a hat, but come rainy season he’s nowhere to be fun.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, reminded of the few moments he’d spent alone with the dogs and the shepherd had gone charging at the windows anytime a car honked or a person walked by. “We all have our weaknesses. Man and beast alike.”

She tilted her head,nose crinkled as she grinned in his direction. “Oh? And what’s your weakness oh great Man Beast?”

His laugh came out almost as a bark, catching her off guard and sending her into a tizzy of giggles that had him grinning from ear to ear.

“Honestly? A good strong cup of coffee and a nap. Nothing gets me weaker than a good long nap.” At that he yawned, though it was quickly interrupted by a flicker of the lights.

“Oh...well…” Y/n began to speak but the moment the power went out and the house went dark she yelped, launching herself across the sofa and right into Yoongi’s surprised grasp.

He sat, motionless, afraid to startle the trembling form in his grasp any further. She sniffed, clutching his clothes desperately as another rumble shook the house.

“Looks like Champ’s not the only thunderchicken huh?” Yoongi mumbled, clutching her closer as she struggled in his grip and smacked him weakly on the chest. He chuckled, fingers carding through her hair as she eased up in her struggles and collapsed back into him.

“Stupid…” She mumbled, face radiating heat that she prayed didn’t transfer through his shirt and into his skin to alert him to the effect his proximity was having on her.

They continued on like this for the rest of the night. Even when her breath had slowed to an even rhythm and her body had relaxed fully into his he refused to move. His heart pounded against his ribs though his mind refused to admit the effect she was having on him. Eventually though it slowed, along with his breathing as well. As the final distant rumbles sounded in the far off distance the house was still, and all its occupants slept.

*** The next day dawned bright and clear. Yoongi groan, stretching long and hard in his place on the sofa, eyes blurrily trying to take in his surroundings. His nostrils twitched, catching the scent of heavy wafting towards him and dragging him from the remaining depths of his sleep deprived mind.

He rolled to his side, eyes greeted with the sight of a glorious steaming cup of black coffee. He grinned, bouncing himself into a sitting position as his long fingers curled around the mug and pulled it in to allow the steam to cascade over his face. He spotted a sticky note that’d been held in place on the table by the mug, grin spreading from ear to ear as he read his wife’s beautiful flowing handwriting.

“Went to the grocery store to grab some stuff for breakfast. 

I could tell your day at work yesterday was tough so I let you sleep in. 

Hope that’s okay 

~y/n”

Champ hobbled over, pulling a grin from the man as he reached out a free hand to scratch absentmindedly at the pup’s head and ears. “Hi there buddy, feeling a little better after last night I see.”

The dog titled his head, goofy shepherd grin on his face as he sat at Yoongi’s feet and leaned in for more scratches. Their bonding though was interrupted by a knock at the door and a sharp bark from Champ who bolted towards the door, barking his head off as his tail wagged a mile a minute.

“Alright boy, easy. I’m coming, I'm coming.” Yoongi grunted as he shoved himself to his feet, regretfully leaving his cup behind as he moved Champ out of the way and eased the front door open.

“Excuse me Sir. I don’t mean to disturb you.”

Yoongi shook his head, a hesitant smile forming at the police officer’s apologetic gaze.

“No officer, it’s alright. But is there anything I can help you with?”

“Ah yes, I was assigned to the assault case of one y/l /ln. We were investigating the crime scene when we came across this phone. Once the case was closed we tried to get in touch with her to return the phone but haven’t had the ability to reach her.” The officer rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he held out the phone in question.

“I figured I’d try at her home but, it seems like since you’re home so I’ll just be able to give it to you.” He smiled kindly as Yoongi took the phone in hand.

“Thank you officer. I really appreciate it.”

After saying their goodbyes Yoongi shut the door and made his way to the sofa in the living room. His fingers curled around the familiar object, unsure why its weight felt so strangely right in his hands.

His fingers swiped across the dark screen, eyes going wide at the amount of missed calls and messages that scrolled across the screen. 

47 missed calls, as many missed text messages and 4,762 missed emails. His eyes widened as he scrolled through the messages, names registered under the missed calls that at once felt familiar and strange when he uttered them out loud.

Tapping on one of the voicemails he inhaled sharply as twin voices boomed out of the phone’s speakers.

“Hyung!”

“Hyung!”

“Shut up Tae I got this!”

“Hurry Jiminie!”

“Yoongi hyung! It’s Jimin! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days!”

“Hyung we miss you!”

“Tae come ooonnnn!”

“Sorry oppaaaa.”

A groan sounded through the speakers and the voice started up again. “I know you weren’t looking forward to the trip but you really should have come. It’s honestly been the most relaxing thing we’ve done together.”

“Oh yeah! Namjoon hyung tracked down the lady that you threw overboard!”

“Aish Tae don’t say it like that!”

“Namjoon hyung! What was the lady’s name?”

A third voice grunted out, though further back than the other two had been.

“Her name? I mean I didn’t really track her down, she works for the company we rented the ship from. But...her name is y/n.”

A high pitched screaming began in his ears as he looked up at the named woman that’d walked through the door at that very moment.

“Yoongi?” Her arms were laden with bags from the grocery store. She pushed past the dogs, giving him a hesitant smile that quickly faded at the look of rage on Yoongi’s face.

“When..were you going to tell me?”

“I’m sorry?” Placing the bags in her hands on the sofa she took a step towards him, though he jumped up from the sofa and backed away a step as he glared at her in sheer and utter disgust.

“I remember. Everything. When...when in the fuck were you going to tell me??”

"Yoongi please, let me explain.." She reached out as if to touch him but he quickly jerked his arm away.

Stumbling backward he blindly moved towards the kitchen, rage and confusion filling him as he tried desperately to make sense of what he'd learned.

"You lied to me. Day in and day out, you fucking lied. About who I am and what our relationship is." He growled, the high pitched whine beginning to sound even louder in his ears as he braced himself against the counter.

A throbbing began to form between his eyes and he growled again as he sensed her presence behind him.

"Yoongi please, I didn't want this to happen. I swear I didn't want to lie. About you...about us...any of this." 

She reached for him again but he turned quickly to glare her down.

"You didn't WANT to lie!?! How's about telling the fucking doctors you weren't my wife? How about admitting to me that I'm some...fucking idol or some shit?" He shook his head, trying desperately to clear the spots from his eyes so he could focus on the betrayal that was her desperate gaze.

" I know, and you're right. At any point in time I could have stopped this. But you were in such a delicate state. The doctors were afraid the damage to your memory was permanent! That it would only get worse over time! And I just...I wanted to take care of you. I needed to. To thank you."

"To fucking thank me?? For what? And fucking how?? Again, you fucking lied to me. You let me believe I was some...some stay at home worthless piece of shit of a dish washing husband. You...fucking Christ woman you let me fall in love with you…"

He shook his head again, willing the words to continue to spew forth, hoping the anger would keep him on his feet. And yet, the buzzing in his head continued to grow. The black spots became clouds that grew to surround the edges of his sight. And once again he was falling.

Once again his vision was fading to a single pinpoint. Her face. The worry and regret and fear in her eyes.

The tiny forget me not earrings nestled snugly in her ear lobes.

At first there was only sound. And then….nothing. 

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 88

Sophia, the day after her conversation with Tyche.

Thank you to @satan-parisienne and @baelpenrose for keeping me going and on an even keel! Sorry the Author’s Note is so short... I didn’t realize until I had about 10 mins before I had to be back at work that I forgot to queue this for today *facepalm*

The next day was an entire education on new places I could be sore. A hot shower and analgesics only took the barest edge off, and I ended up needing a transport to get to my office instead of my routine walk. I did my best to ignore the grin on Conor’s face every time I moved too fast and winced.  After the third time I scowled at him, I brought up my datapad and did some research, careful not to tap my legs as I gestured, which had become something of a habit.

 “That snot,” I gasped. Conor glanced at me, so I clarified. “Tyche had me doing fencing footwork yesterday…. Intermediate footwork, it turns out. No wonder I’m so sore.”

 “Least it wasn’t sparring,” he pointed out cheerfully, gently lifting my chin to get a look at my lip.  “You should have let Noah heal that, love.”

 I brushed my cheek against his hand. “I want the reminder. May even let her do it again once it heals.”

 This time, it was his turn to scowl. “Not funny.  That face has been bruised enough for one lifetime.” He gently rubbed my cheek as the transport stopped. “Okay, time to go be the boss.  No fighting with the other kids.”  Despite the joking tone, his eyes were serious as he leaned in to kiss me before he headed to his shift.

 I realized that Alistair not only beat me to work, but could apparently hear me groaning as I tried to walk, because the door opened before I was even within three feet of it.  True to form, he gave me an appraising look before his expression settled on my face. “Door get a bit mouthy today? Or did your feet decide you needed to stay home?”

 “Tyche punched me, actually.” My tone was light as I inched my way to my desk. “For defending myself. And then she decided I need more ways to defend myself, so now I can hardly move.”

 “Solid logic,” he deadpanned as he handed me a cup of coffee. “I feel obliged to point out that the coffee is hot, seeing as you display a disturbing propensity to get hurt.”

 “Very funny.”

 “You have been warned, et cetera, so on, so forth.” He waved a hand nonchalantly as he turned, bringing up my agenda for the day. “Your first meeting is the one to discuss medical testing ethics, criteria for volunteers, and determination of the necessity of the procedures. Then you have time set aside to review the status of the Galactic Core Curriculum, along with proposals for expanded learning topics and their existing analogues in the education systems of other planets - “ He paused and tilted his head. “I will never cease to be caught off guard when sentences like that exist.”

 I restrained the urge to nod - or more accurately, my back twinged with a warning not to even consider it. “Believe me, I understand. Noah and I were talking about other species a few weeks ago. Did you know there is a species of avians out there who essentially live on a planet with no surface atmosphere?”

 “The Preeyar, yes,” he sighed wistfully. “Knowing that Fermi was simply impatient has been quite eye-opening, so to speak.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong,” I conceded. “We were too young for extraterrestrial civilizations, we weren’t listening properly, they apparently weren’t trying to contact us until recently…  But they do exist.” A smile crept on my face at the idea that we really hadn’t been alone in the universe.

My office door opened without warning, and a familiar voice chimed in as Alistair turned with clenched fists. “I do argue that we are entirely too dangerous to have been contacted.” Arthur Farro stood leaning against the frame, and Alistair relaxed marginally. “At least we were until relatively recently…. Throwing nuclear ordinance at each other the moment killing each other in the thousands - rather than the millions - stopped scratching that vicious itch. Who does that?  We’re like demented eight-year-olds who got bored of burning ants and started setting each other’s hair on fire instead.”

“You really should keep that door secured,” my assistant sniffed as he closed out my agenda, right around the time he caught Arthur squinting at it.

“He has the code,” I admitted.

“Or maybe that was accidental,” our resident history teacher continued, ignoring us. “I’m a big fan of assuming stupidity instead of malice where possible.  And, dear lord, does our track record make it plausible.”  Finally entering the room, he flicked a finger at my face. “That was not, however.”

Before I could stop him, Alistair took one glance between me and my friend, and strode to the door. “No.”

“Alistair…”

“I’ll clear your calendar. No. Have a good day.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Arthur asked as the door closed behind my soon-to-be-ex assistant.

“That he’s a coward,” I muttered.

“You know damned well that’s not what I mean.”

“Tyche already decked me.” I gestured at my split lip and the bruise that bloomed on my chin overnight. “So, yeah, I know - “

“No, you really don’t seem to.”

“Arthur, stop.”

“I will not.” He stepped forward and placed both his hands, palms down, on my desk.  He knew I hated that gesture. “Bjornson’s entire narrative hinges on you being more dangerous than anyone realizes, and you putting up a display of false helplessness to make everyone trust you.  By decking one of his followers, not only did you show that you do, in fact, have violence in you - meaning that it’s now entirely plausible you’re as Machiavellian as they claim - but you’ve also gone and indicated for whatever reason that Jokull is enough of a threat to drop that premise.” Straightening, he crossed his arms in clear disappointment. “If you wanted to give him more credibility, good job. You succeeded.”

I swallowed every bit of hurt I felt at his words, reminding myself they were nowhere near as barbed as the ones Tyche had given me the day before. Instead, I tilted my head and arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you done? Did you say everything you needed to say?” I paused, giving him a chance to respond. When he didn’t, I poked harder. “Feel better?”

“Not particularly, but big picture? I’m not a terribly gleeful person, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But yes, it is your turn now.”

“Gracious of you,” I cooed sarcastically.  “Tyche made the same points yesterday, after punching me in the face, with the added gravitas of a guilt trip served with that special seasoning of having watched me almost die and thinking I abandoned her as a child. Also three hours with a rapier, whipping my ass. So. Far more impressive, I assure you.”

“Foiled again by the smaller Reid,” he sighed dramatically before catching himself.  “Rapier, you say? I was going to say no pun intended, but I’ve decided I did that on purpose. Yep. Totally intentional.”

I rolled my eyes before pulling up my tunic to show the bruises on my midriff. “I’m not very good at it, for the record.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, saber’s a better style anyway.  And I’m not just saying that because it’s my favorite.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, not entirely convinced. “As far as Bjornson… seriously. She gave me the scoop.  I seriously fubared the entire situation yesterday.  Apparently, our suspected cult leader only believes in physical attacks on those who would defend themselves. No honor in beating a beaten foe, et cetera.”

“Mmm hmmm,” he nodded, like I was a student he was letting reach her own conclusion.

“Which means I just made it open season on Sophias,” I groaned.

“Really, saber is much better for brawling tactics,” he hedged.

I laughed bitterly. “Doesn’t matter.  My walking privileges are revoked until further notice. Must be accompanied by one of six people, or two out of another ten, and on a transport.” The last word came out like a profanity.  It was a known fact I hated using them.

Hence why I was now being forced to, unfortunately.

“If you think there is any possibility that I’m going to argue against Tyche on that decision, I need to talk to her about that head scan,” he told me pointedly. “Then again, you and I have different definitions of the word ‘think’, but I’ll be clear - it’s not happening.  Moving target, faster than a walking pace, with a protective attachment? Which roster am I on, again?”

“Very funny. You already know.”

His expression softened slightly when he realized I was actually upset. “There is some good news in all of this.”

I threw up my hands and spun in my chair. “Oh, do tell, great military historian and warlord. What is the shining silver lining to the fact that I just gave a man who thinks I am the only thing standing between him and his New Start a golden ticket to sic his followers on me?”

“Okay, first off, sassy shit, my main career is a school teacher. I only moonlighted as a warlord to pay those apocalypse bills. Not my fault I was good at it.” Suddenly, he got serious. “The good new is, if he was too stupid to realize that your talent for inspiring loyalty meant you were a massive problem for any takeover plan, and a problem he’d have to deal with sooner or later….. Well, he’s probably too stupid to keep his little cult together much longer.  Leaders who don’t recognize more than one kind of strength never manage to build a lasting legacy.”

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair…” I said, half to myself.

“Yeah, our guy is no Ramses II,” Arthur replied.  “Besides, those who seek power are rarely good at keeping it.”

“I would have given him my seat on the Council if he’d just asked,” I admitted.

“Besides the fact that you literally just proved my point, if he was suited to the Council, he’d be on it.  It’s not like you were the only candidate.”

I shrugged. “No idea. I didn’t even know I was on the Council for the first week. I think it was a week.”

When I turned to look at him, I was met with a flat stare. “I know it was explained to you at some point.  How does that search function work?” He reached forward like he was going to tap my head before I swatted his hand away. “You were appointed to the Council to replace Simon, you represent a specific population on board the Ark, when we arrive at Von, you will serve an additional two planetary standard years before elections are held, of which you cannot be a candidate….”

Ugh. “I was put forward as a recommendation by Simon. The other Councillors put forward their candidates. The population I represent voted based on my personnel file, since no one even knew any of the candidates at that point. We’d only been on the Ark about six months. Some of us, anyway.” Glaring, I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t know how you figured that out, but I have a feeling I’m going to kill someone.”

He waved a hand at me in a very familiar gesture. “I see other people do it all the time. Jog your memory, and some phrase or word triggers it.  Cool to watch, though.” With a shrug, he continued. “Point is, Bjornson wasn’t even a candidate, same as me.”

“How do you know that?” I asked incredulously.

“Fuck, Sophia. You really need to keep track of your constituents.”

“Hey, I didn’t even want to be a - Wait. You are one of my so-called ‘constituents’!?”

“Even voted for you,” he grinned.  “Didn’t know it was you-you, but… Communications background, peaceful but intelligent attributes to balance out our resident warhawk, fair enough to offset Huynh, and you seemed like the type to actually listen to Grey, Pranav, and Eino.” He shrugged. “To be fair, I was right.”

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