#banged this out lin like an hour it's 1 am

[summerwritesfics]

🎆We’ll Dream Of Neo-Tokyo Tonight, Chapter 1 - I Really Want To Stay At Your House

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 1569 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Cyberpunk AU, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Cyborg!Kuai Liang, Dystopia, Canon-Typical Violence, Corruption, Blood and Gore

We’ll Dream Of Neo-Tokyo Tonight Masterlist

Notes: Sooooo… A few years back, for Song Inspired Shorts I wrote two fics called Neo-Tokyo and Salvation Code. Even back then I always wanted to expand on them, and make them a proper longfic, and so I’m finally doing it :) The chapter’s will still be inspired by songs tho. This first chapter is completely new, just a bit of set up with Kuai Liang’s last moments with Bi-Han. The next two chapters are Neo-Tokyo and Salvation Code, and then I have two more chapters done which are also new :3 The title is from Neo-Tokyo by Scandroid.

When Kuai Liang was broken out of his rest cycle, he knew something was wrong. Not just because it was several hours early, but because Bi-Han was rushing around the laboratory, gathering up files and hard drives, throwing them in the compactor to destroy them. A tall white haired man that Kuai did not recognise aided him.

“Bi-Han?” Kuai questioned, stumbling out from his pod. He had to push aside the nausea he felt, typical of an incomplete cycle, and stumble over to where his brother was. “What’s going on?”

“Kuai Liang,” Bi-Han breathed out, voice jittery and so full of nerves it was making Kuai feel even more sick. He rushed over, placing his hands on Kuai’s shoulders. “Listen to me. You need to get out of here.”

“What do you mean?” Kuai’s head was spinning, turning to watch as the white haired man finished destroying the last hard drive. Don’t they have Bi-Han’s life's work on them? “Bi-Han, what is happening?”

“The Lin Kuei have turned on me, Kuai Liang, and you are in grave danger.” Bi-Han pressed his hands to either side of Kuai’s head, keeping them looking directly at one another. “There are those who want to take you, and pervert your purpose. They want to turn you into a weapon.”

“I’m not a weapon,” Kuai whispered in a devastated tone. Granted, his cybernetic parts made him stronger than a human, but that didn’t make him a weapon. I don’t want to hurt people, only help.

“I know,” Bi-Han assured him. “And that is why I cannot let The Lin Kuei or anyone else take you. I can’t let you fall into the wrong hands.” Bi-Han turned ever so slightly, as the white haired man approached. “This is Raiden Narukami. He… He owes me a favour. He’s going to take you somewhere safe.”

Kuai glanced at Raiden for a few seconds. He didn’t look untrustworthy as such, although now that Kuai thought about it, he didn’t know what that was supposed to look like. If Bi-Han trusted him, Kuai Liang supposed he had no choice but to have faith in Bi-Han’s judgement.

“I have destroyed all blueprints regarding your creation,” Bi-Han continued, and that caught Kuai’s attention. I was right, he did destroy all his work. But those blueprints too? He’d been led to believe they were extremely important for continuing to use the technology to advance humanity. “The Lin Kuei and their collaborators would use them to create an army. But that in extension, is what puts you at risk.”

“Because… Without the blueprints, I am the only way they could figure out how to make more?” Kuai guessed. His heart may have been robotic, yet he could still feel it pounding in his chest. “But, what about you? You keep saying I need to leave but-”

“I’m staying here, to give you time to escape.” Bi-Han stroked Kuai’s cheek, pulling him close and resting their foreheads together. “You are the most important thing in my life, little brother. So long as you are safe, nothing else matters to me.”

“But-”

“Please, Kuai Liang.” Bi-Han screwed his eyes shut as suddenly banging began to echo around the lab. It sounded like someone was trying to break down the door. “Let me keep you safe.”

“Big brother…”

“Remember.” He pulled away, but kept his hand in place. “You are not a weapon, you will never be a weapon. You are Kuai Liang, you are the future and you are humanity's hope.” So many little pop ups were coming up in Kuai’s vision, ranging between trying to rationalise staying back with Bi-Han and the others telling him to heed his brother’s orders. “You are my little brother, and I will always love you.”

Kuai felt his breathing hitch as he whispered “I love you too, Bi-Han.”

There was a particularly loud bang, making all three of them jump. Whoever was on the other side was clearly almost through.

“We need to go,” Raiden finally announced, grabbing Kuai’s hand with his own.

Suddenly, there was a crack, and when Kuai looked towards the noise he saw a man climbing through a large hole in the door. Bi-Han darted in front of them, holding his arms wide as if to shield them. Raiden pulled Kuai’s hand, guiding him to the back of the room. When Kuai scanned the mysterious intruder, something flagged him in his memory as being named Hanzo Hasashi, although how or why he was there was a completely different question. Kuai had never met him before.

But… Maybe Bi-Han has…

“Hanzo,” Bi-Han said, glancing behind. Raiden wrapped an arm around Kuai’s chest, keeping him close, while he fiddled with some sort of knob on his watch. “I do not know what Quan Chi has told you but-”

“He told me enough,” Hanzo spat, his eyes landing on Kuai Liang. “You will deliver LK-52O to me, so that Quan Chi may dispose of him.”

“Are you really fool enough to believe that Quan Chi wants to eliminate him rather than use him for himself?” Bi-Han hissed, one hand reaching down to his belt. Kuai knew he kept a utility knife there for emergencies. “I can’t let that happen.”

“Come on, come on,” Raiden quietly hissed in Kuai’s ear, still struggling with his watch. Kuai quickly got a better look at it. He realised it was a teleporter, rather than a watch. One that looked extremely battered and overused, no wonder it was refusing to work.

Hanzo suddenly yelled, surging forward with his sword drawn. Bi-Han stayed mostly still, aside from pulling his knife out, like that would aid him somehow. Surprisingly, he was able to block the first strike with it, and the second. The pair struggled, Kuai’s eyes hypnotised by the action like he was watching a dance not a fight. Little pop ups kept coming up on his vision, mainly informing him Bi-Han’s heart rate was raised. Sometimes a little pop up would chastise him for not doing anything to aid his brother.

“Aha!” Raiden’s sudden exclamation caught Kuai’s attention, and he saw that the teleporter was now glowing, preparing to warp them out of there.

Then, Bi-Han made a pained cry.

Bi-Han was on the floor, gripping his side. A scan showed there was a large gash across his torso, although Kuai could have probably figured that out from the way blood was seeping out between his fingers. Hanzo stood to Bi-Han’s side, slowly raising his sword, aimed at Bi-Han’s neck.

“No!”

Kuai’s cry went unheeded, as the sword was brought down. Struggling against Raiden’s grip, there was nothing he could do as the weapon sliced through Bi-Han’s neck like it was nothing. The scream that escaped Kuai’s mouth was a mechanical garble of noise as his vision was filled with pop ups.

Bi-Han is gravely injured. Bi-Han isn’t breathing. Bi-Han is losing blood. Bi-Han’s heart has stopped. 

Bi-Han is dead.

“Bi-Han!” Kuai screeched one final time, before he felt a strange static over his body. He closed his eyes, the strange sensation of his body dematerialising and then reconstructing itself almost made him throw up.

He found himself falling forward, only just catching himself before his face hit the floor. Rain began to pour down from above, mixing with his tears as he caught his breath. When he looked up, he realised he was on a rooftop somewhere.

“No! No, no, no, no, no!”

Jumping up, he spun around to find Raiden standing, a sorrowed look on his face like he just did not know how to begin comforting Kuai Liang.

“Take me back,” Kuai demanded, storming up to Raiden and grabbing his shirt in his hands. He yanked on the man, desperately screaming in his face. “Take me back!”

“I’m sorry, Kuai Liang, I can’t do that.” Raiden placed a hand on Kuai’s cheek, trying to wipe his tears from his eyes. It didn’t help, they just got replaced by more. “I’m so sorry.”

Floodgates opened, Kuai began to openly sob. He knew Raiden was right, going back would just be essentially handing himself over to Hanzo and whoever he was working for. Not that it made it any easier. Raiden’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him tightly into a hug. Kuai buried his face into Raiden’s shoulder, muffling his wailing.

“We won’t let Bi-Han’s sacrifice be in vain,” Raiden assured him, and Kuai could feel one of his hands rubbing circles in his back. “I will protect you. I promise.” There was shouting in the distance, and Raiden made an alarmed sound. “We need to move. If they catch up to us…”

Kuai pulled away, and while he hiccuped still, he did his best to calm down. Raiden was right, not just about needing to keep going, but about not letting Bi-Han’s sacrifice be for nothing. Bi-Han would want him to be strong, would want him to keep safe.

Would want him to fight against those who wished to misuse him.

Kuai Liang nodded slowly, stepping backwards. “Okay.”

“Come on.” Raiden gave him a soft smile, holding his hand out.

Kuai accepted his hand, letting him guide him through the streets. As much as he wanted to fall apart, he knew he couldn’t, not right then. When they were safe, Kuai would allow himself to grieve. Until then, he had to keep on going.

I will never be a weapon.

[thebadchoicemachine]

Scout Goes To The Dentist and everyone suffers

Ao3 Link

(recommend reading there bc tumblr screws up the format)

Summery: Scout needs to get his wisdom teeth out. Scout does not want to have any dentist stuff happen at all ever. Medic and Spy decide to fix this, and the rest of the mercs react without context.

100% Crack. a bit of fluff. 

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

The mercs were driving back to base after another (relatively) successful mission. Sniper drove with Engie in Shotgun and the rest of the crew resting in the back. 

  Scout tentatively checked his teeth with his tongue, brow pressed in worry. He’d been feeling an ache in his mouth for weeks but it was growing sharp. It was starting to interfere with work. He’d screwed up way more than usual on this contract and everyone knew it. He just couldn’t concentrate with this freakin’ pain!

  More importantly, however, his pain was also affecting Spy’s ability to concentrate. The constant smacking and gashing and groaning was driving him insane. 

  “Pour l'amour de Dieu. Scout, will you shut ze hell up?”

  “Why don’t you shut the hell—AHHH! ” He screamed as a bump caused his teeth to bash together, sending a horrific jolt of pain through his jaw. 

  Everyone in the van shot up, weapons drawn. At least, everyone but Demo and Pyro, both of whom were thankfully still passed out in the corner. The mercenaries probably wouldn’t have survived if either of them panic-pressed any buttons. 

  “Y’all alright back there?” Engie asked.

  “What in the great flag’s name what that?” Soldier demanded at the same time. 

  “Yeah, I just got uh… bit of a bruise,” Scout shrugged casually, failing to hide his nervous shame. 

  Sniper chuckled from the front, “Wuss.”

  “Hmm.” Medic leaned over to stare at Scout. His freaky beady eyes glinted behind his glasses, but he didn’t do anything else.

  Scout awkwardly turned back around and kept his tongue between his teeth the rest of the ride.  

  ——

  The next morning:

  Scout was awoken by a quick rapping at his door. He groaned, falling out of bed face first. The polite knocking continued at the same pace. 

  “OKAY, I’M COMING!” He growled. He pulled himself to his feet and blindly smacked his nightstand until he felt his bottle of Ibuprofen. He popped open the lid and downed four with a half-empty can of bonk he’d left out. Energized and assured the pain in his mouth would subside, he shuffled toward the door and creaked it open. 

  Medic’s imposing figure peered down at him, grinning. 

  “JESUS!” Scout jumped back. 

  Unfazed, Medic stepped into his room. “Hello, kleiner Freund,” he said in his usual chipper tone, circling Scout. “How are ve today?

  “Uh, fine.” Scout turned alongside the circling doctor, trying to keep eye contact as Medic observed every angle of him. “So, what’s up, exactly? Why are you here?”

  “Oh, apologies! I am here to take care of that ache you were complaining about yesterday.”

  Scout froze. “Ah… that. Nope! No, no need. Thanks, pal, but I really feel—EEP!”

  Medic’s hand shot out and grabbed Scout by the jaw. He pressed Scout’s mouth open and peered inside at his teeth. “Just as I suspected.”

  “Uhat?”

  “You have been expiring pain in your mouth for a while now, ja?”

  “Uoah!” Scout shoved himself away, getting the gloves out of his mouth. “I mean: no! Why—haha—what makes you even think that?”

  Medic placed a hand on his chin, looking pensively upwards. “Vell, I thought it was strange. I healed everyone with my medigun before we left. That ought to have cured any remaining wounds, bruises, or strains you had from ze fight, so it must be a reassuring issue that started again afterward. Also, Spy has been complaining about your mouth sounds.”

  “That smelly French rat,” Scout cursed. “But, he’s wrong. And you’re wrong! Sorry, doc, but I don’t have any cavities or nothin’. My teeth are my best feature. I care for them perfectly.”

  “You do!” Medic beamed. “Even just from this quick examination, I can tell that your teeth are pristine. No, you don’t have any cavities.”

  “Phew.” Scout relaxed in euphoric relief.

  “I would have cured it with my medigun if it were an infection like that,” Medic continued. “Your wisdom teeth are just overgrowing their stay! Worry not, I can remove them—”

  “Oh, fuck no!” Scout yelped. He jumped past the medic and took off as fast as he could. 

  “Huh. Interesting reaction,” Medic shrugged to himself, watching the boy disappear over the horizon.

  —

  “Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, NOPE!” Scout repeated as he tore through the base, dying to get as far away from that Freaky Von Frankenstein as fast as possible. 

  In his panic, he ducked into the place he figured he was least likely to be caught: Spy’s room. He slammed the heavy door behind him and slunk against it, his chest puffing in and out like crazy as he tried to catch his breath. Not from running—he could run much further than that and still have enough wind to heckle—but rather from his fear. 

  “Scout, what are you doing... uh…” The cold blade of Spy’s knife spurred such intense joy that Scout shot forward and wrapped his arms around the man before he was even visible. Spy decloaked and stood there, absolutely unsure of what to do next. He waited for a moment, looking around, and then carefully tapped Scout on the back. “Scout?”

  “Ah, sorry, man.” Scout detached himself, trying to play it off as him brushing something off Spy’s suit. 

  Spy caught his hand before it touched his precious threads again. “Explain yourself.” 

  “Right, haha, so…” Scout clapped his hands together. “I am. Hiding from Medic.”

  “Why?” 

  “Why not? The dude’s nuts!”

  Spy had to give him that, but he could tell there was something else going on.

  A polite knock at the door interrupted the two of them. “Hellooo? Scout?”

  “Aw crap, he found me!” Scout darted behind Spy. “You gotta protect me, hide me, please!”

  Spy ignored scout and opened the door. 

  Medic smiled pleasantly at the two of them, a dove now perched on his shoulder. “Archimedes, look at zat! You vere right, he IS here! I never would’ve guessed.”

  “A fucking BIRD sold me out?”

  “Quiet,” Spy scolded. “Medic, do you mind explaining to me what zis iz about?”

  “Scout is in need of a simple medical procedure. His wisdom teeth have betrayed him and must be removed. That vay his pain vill cease and he’ll stop having to make those annoying sounds all the time!”

  “NO,” Scout shouted from behind Spy. “Ain’t no way I’m letting you put your creepy tools inside my beautiful mouth.”

  “Strange,” Spy raised an eyebrow, “You’ve never had much issue with Medic’s healing methods before.”

  “Ja! And you left before I could finish telling you the best part! I can remove them almost entirely painlessly.”

  Scout glared at him suspiciously. Spy didn’t really buy it either, but he didn’t make a show of it. 

  “Vhat? I mean it! And I’d be more than happy to!”

  “Why?” Spy squinted. 

  Medic tapped his fingers together. “I mean, I am getting a very nice set of teeth out of this whole situation…”

  “Of course,” Spy rolled his eyes. “Scout, why don’t you just get this over with?”

  Medic agreed, “Surely even you aren’t that self-conscious about your mouth. This pain vill go away and your teeth vill look even better!”

  Scout couldn’t take it anymore. He burst out, “I lied, alright? I lied! My teeth aren’t my best feature (that’s obviously my amazing physique). The real reason I take such good care of my mouth is ‘cause… because…” The waiting faces of his colleagues assured him there was no way out of this. He hung his head and sucked in. “Because I’m scared of dentists.”

  There was a beat of silence, then Spy burst out laughing. 

  Scout was not amused. “No, you don’t get it. Scared doesn’t even begin to cover this. I am straight-up phobic, you got it? Do you know how many dentists’ faces I’ve beaten in just because I freaked out and lost it? A lot. A LOT.”

  “Vell, I assure you that vill not happen to me.” Medic cheerily clapped him on the back.

  “Okay…” Scout gulped, looking shakily from Spy to Medic. “Okay,” He stood up taller. “I’ll do it.” 

  ——

  About twenty minutes later:

  Demo and Soldier sat playing cards on an overturned barrel. In the distance, a faint buzzing sound grew. They both ignored it, happily focused on their game, but it continued getting sharper. 

  Pyro, who was sitting a few feet away helping Engineer with fuel, looked up and asked a muffled question. 

  “I don’t know,” Engie answered. “Sounds like a speaker is busted. I’ll check it out after this.”

  “aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Suddenly, Scout burst past. He jumped the barrel Soldier and Demo were playing on, scattering their game everywhere, and tripped straight into Pyro. 

  “Mmphh?” They asked with a tilted head, pulling Scout to his feet.

  “HE’S GONnA TAKE MY FUckIN TEEth!” Scout sobbed. 

  Engie took Scout by the shoulder. “Hold on now, son. Who’s gonna take what?”

  Right then, Medic came running up. His glasses were cracked and there was a shoe print on his face. “Vait! I haven’t even started yet!”

  Scout shrieked. He stumbled over Engie’s toolbox and rolled, taking off again as soon as he was on his feet. 

  “Sorry!” Medic called as he raced after his patient. “He’s evidently VERY dentophobic!” 

  Soldier, Engie, Pyro, and Demo were left to stare as though that cleared up anything. 

  Scout was, in all honesty, tripping absolute balls. He’d gotten as far as Medic’s lab before he decided to nope out again, but not in time to dodge the syringe Medic was sneakily placing in his back. Unfortunately, because of his fleeing, he only got enough of a dose to put him out of it and numb his physical senses, not his fear. 

  ——

  Heavy was enjoying a quiet break. Music was playing from his radio, Sasha was sitting by his side, and he had a sandwich he savored while watching the sky. Then, instead of a sandwich, he was holding Scout. Scout had crashed into him at full force—barely moving the giant of a man but shattering his momentum—and knocked the meal out of his hands.

  Heavy held Scout up by the arm so they were face to face. “Vhat’s wrong, little man?” 

  “The med… the medic…” Scout wheezed, unable to speak anymore with the effects of the anesthesia reaching his tongue. 

  “Something’s wrong with doctor?” Heavy stood up, dragging poor Scout along with him. Alarm and determination were hot on his face. 

  “HE—“ 

  *Fwwit*

  Scout slumped over onto Heavy, a dart stuck in his back. 

  [  Several meters away, Sniper and Spy breathed a sigh of relief from a tower. 

“Many thanks,” Spy said. Sniper nodded. 

After Scout had fled again, Spy went to find Sniper with another dose of the anesthesia (this time with more of a tranquilizing effect).  ]

  “Ah, zer you are!” Medic called, finally catching up with Scout. “Hi, Heavy!”

  “Doctor?” Heavy quizzically looked from the sleeping Scout, who he’d taken to holding in his arms, to the slightly ruffled Medic.

  “It’s a long story,” Medic laughed, frazzled. “Come on, I’ll explain it while I finish this surgery.”

  ——

  One week later: 

  Scout smacked his lips, fluttering open his eyes. He stretched out and ungraciously yawned while scratching the back of his head. He was so thirsty, as he always was when waking up, but hunger pains also jabbed at his stomach. Instinctively, he began to feel for the ache in his teeth, but it wasn’t there. More alarmingly, his wisdom teeth weren’t there either. 

  The previous events spurred his mind. He let it sink in, just glad he couldn’t remember any of the actual dentist parts. He shuddered just thinking about it. 

  Intent on wiping all of this from his mind, he hopped out of bed. Oddly, he was in his own room, not the chair in Medic’s lab. He grabbed some mouthwash and swished It around, amazed at how he couldn’t feel a single ounce of pain in his jaw. Weren’t these surgeries supposed to hurt like hell after?

  “Huh, guess the doc wasn’t kidding,” he said to himself. 

  His stomach grumbled. God, he was starving. He grabbed a can of bonk to quench his thirst while he searched for breakfast and tried to open his door. It didn’t budge. He frowned, jiggling the knob more to no avail. 

  “Stupid door,” he murmured. “Let me out, I wanna eat!” 

  The door didn’t listen. 

  “Alright, buddy. You asked for this.” Scout walked back to his bed and pulled out his bat. With one well-placed swing, he knocked the handle off entirely. The dumb plank of wood still wouldn’t open, so he took a few more swings at its hinges. He’d get someone to fix it later. For now, he just wanted out. 

  After a while, he finally managed to push the door out of its frame. He rolled his shoulders and stepped happily outside… only to be greeted by two sentries aimed right at him. 

  “AUGH!” He fell back inside, hiding behind his wall. “Yo, what the fuck?”

  “Mey! Mees Mawake!” Pyro’s muffled voice called out. 

  Scout heard some hushed shouting and shuffling footsteps. He peeked his head outside to see the whole team surrounding his doorstep. Weapons were drawn and hesitance/caution was drawn on everyone’s faces in thick lines.

  “Uh… guys?” Scout called. “This is hilarious and all, but I just want some breakfast, okay?” He took a careful step outside with his hands raised. The sentries followed his movement but didn’t shoot. 

  Everyone visibly relaxed. Some audible sighs of relief were even heard from Spy and Medic. 

  “Hurray! He’s really awake!” Medic grinned, giving a thumbs up to a very tired-looking everyone else. 

  “What?” Scout was stiff and hungry, but he needed answers to this weird show first and foremost.

  Everyone turned to Medic, who sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Vell, I may have underestimated your fear. Just a bit.”

  “What happened?”

  “You sort of turned into a zombie…? A very powerful, frantic, mindless thing that destroyed everything it touched.  I mean, every time you woke up you went absolutely berserk! It was a fascinating reaction, really, but—“

  “Ehem,” Spy cleared his throat, glaring at Medic. 

  “Right, so, after like the twelfth time this happened and we managed to subdue you I just put you in a coma until we could be sure the effects wore fully off.”

  “Oh.” Scout blinked, not sure how to react to that. “So, I beat all you guys up?”

  “Several times, ja! You also destroyed several structures.”

  Scout grinned. His now-truly perfect teeth glinted. “Awesome. Let’s never do this again.”

  “Agreed,” Medic said. 

[haechanniesunflowers]

Stray kids reaction to your kid misbehaving with you

Guys I wrote this while travelling back and forth (does that make sense) I had to travel 4 hours to the capital to get my degree and meet my best friend and now I'm going back home, a 4 hour long bus ride, and I just finished this

Warnings: household problems, angsty/emo teenagers, yelling, degradation, disrespect

Bang Chan

You were in the kitchen with your twins, Noah and Mema, baking and laughing with the 10 year olds. It was almost 9 pm and your 13 year old son Joey (Aaron) hadn't come home even though his curfew was 6 pm. You anxiously waited for him to be back before his father. You guys were concerned about Joey because of his changing behaviour and friends, so Chan tried to control him little by little, the first restriction was the 6 pm curfew.

You heard the door unlock and footsteps near the staircase so you followed and were angry but relieved to see Joey.

"where were you? have you seen the time?" you ask sternly.

He gives you an annoyed look and continues going towards the staircase.

"Joey, I asked you a question".

"I was hanging out with my friends, get off my back" Joey says.

You were shocked at his rude behavior.

"Joey if your father finds out about you coming home this late he-"

"he'll what? huh? what will he do? you two are so annoying always keeping me from having fun and living my life the way I want. Why can't you guys be cool like my friends' mom and dad? why are you guys so stupid!"

You are at a loss of words, anger boiling inside you. He's looking at you with anger and you try holding his hand but he swats it away and screams "don't touch me mom".

"How dare you speak to your mother like that" says an angry voice.

"dad I- no I was joking with mom, I was teasing her".

Chan comes to stand next to you with his arms crossed in front of his chest. The look he's giving your son is enough to have him shit his pants.

"misbehaving and lying, don't recall teaching you that. Or is that what your friends do all the time that you've picked up" Chan says.

Silence. He tells you to go back to the twins, that he needs to have a word with your son.

Joey insists that you be there because he knows Chan will hold back for your sake, but Chan is beyond angry and you don't want to get in his way of educating your son. You see fear in Joey's eyes and anger in Chan's.

"Bang Aaron Jinhwan, go to your room and wait for me there" Chan says strictly and Joey runs to his room.

Chan hugs you and kisses your forehead, "don't listen to him, you know he doesn't mean any of it" he whispers to you. "go easy on our baby Chris" you say giving his hand a light squeeze. He gives you a sad smile indicating that he won't. You know he needs to talk some sense into him and it has to be him because Joey doesn't listen to you at all.

Best believe Joey won't misbehave with you again.

Lee Know

Yunhway, your 15 year old daughter, had snuck out and you found out. Minho had come home late, had an apple for dinner and went straight to bed. Phew, at least he didn't find out about Yunhway. You knew he was in a deep sleep from his heavy snores. After putting your 6 year old, Jaehyun, to sleep, you waited for your daughter on the couch. She came home around 1 am, her shoes in her hand and tiptoeing to her room. You switch the lamp on, startling her.

"come here Yunhway" you say.

She doesn't listen to you and walks to her room, you follow her. You sit on her bed while she changes into her pajamas.

"leave me alone mom" she says.

"keep it down, everyone's asleep" you warn her.

"then why're you awake? go away mom"

"Yunhway I am your mother, I was worried sick. You snuck out to see that boy again didn't you" you say and her eyes widen.

"you have no right to ask me that".

"you are my child, I have every right to ask you that. I told you not to meet him, he's not a good guy and you went against my word. Not just by seeing him but sneaking at night. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Why are you being reckless Hway".

"my God mom do you hear yourself, stop trying to control me. You're just jealous that dad doesn't spend much time with you and I have someone who cares about me and is by my side. Ugh now get out of my room" she spits venom while opening the door to find an angry Minho standing at the threshold.

Yunhway looks at him then you with pleading eyes. Minho walks into the room and you quickly get up to hide your daughter behind your back. "Minho no I'm talking to her, go to bed I'll come to you". Nothing you say is getting to him because he's walking towards you two now and holds Yunhway's hand. You hold his wrist but he gives you a blank expression. You get out of the way, not wanting to make him angrier.

"who is he?" he asks his daughter.

"he's just a friend dad it's nothing".

"then why did you sneak out? and you just came back? is he really just a friend" he asks angrily. She doesn't say anything. He nudges her arm "answer me!"

"dad it's nothing, I was out with friends I promise I won't do it again please" she says, crying.

"and what makes you think you can talk to your mother like that??" he says and you grab his shoulder and put your other hand on his chest, motioning to him to stop. He ignores you and keeps speaking.

"you have no idea what kind of hell your mother went through to bring you into this world, not only that, she sacrificed her needs just so you could get the best. She always always put you before her and this is how you talk to her?? You disrespect her and mock her about her relationship with me? When it is her who taught you to speak. You are standing here because of her! Apologize to her right now!" his face is red with anger. Your daughter is crying and you are at the verge of tears.

"Minho please stop, I'll talk to her, please honey" you try convincing him, caressing his face.

"mom I'm sorry. Please forgive me, I'll listen to you, I'm sorry". She cries. You hug her trying to calm her down. Minho hugs you both too, still angry but you guys can talk to her in the morning.

Changbin

Your daughter Lin (Hyolin), 14, is in the kitchen with you, telling you about the new cute boy in school. You're both giggling about all the girls drooling over him and you giving her tips on how to make him like you, since he is in your class. Your son Juno (Junhong), 16, comes in talking on the phone with a girl. He grabs an apple from the fridge and tells her "bye baby girl, see you tomorrow". You have a good bond with both your kids so you're concerned about not knowing who this girl is.

"hey Juno, come sit with us" you say.

"uh no thanks mom, I don't want to know about that guy Lin's telling you about" he scoffs. You and Lin exchange looks.

"okay then how about you tell us about the girl you were talking to" you say playfully.

"there's nothing to talk about" he says dryly.

"come on, baby girl? Really Juno?" Lin says.

"stop teasing me. And mom please don't ask me personal stuff, it's my life okay?" Juno says.

You're a bit shocked because even though he keeps things to himself, he does let you know about things from the surface, just the main parts.

"Juno, hey is everything okay?" you ask. "what do you want mom? you want me to tell you what she smells like or how she keeps her hair? or you want me to introduce you to her? sorry to say mom but I would be embarrassed to introduce you to her. You're too touchy and want to get involved in things. Just look at yourself giggling with a 14 year old over some guy. You really need a life mom".

You're embarrassed by his words, not because you think he's right but because that's what he thinks of you. Just as you're about to say something he shows you the hand "mom please just stop, you've heard enough" the audacity of this kid I swear

Juno is turned to face his father, who has his arm in his hold, his expression is a mixture of annoyance and anger.

"Seo Junhong you got some nerve speaking like that to the woman who's the reason you're standing here" Changbin says.

"Changbin it's nothing, he's-" Changbin motions for you to stop.

"say that again, I don't think I heard it completely" he says loudly. Juno stays silent, Changbin's grip not leaving his arm.

"dad I'm sorry" he says

"I didn't tell you to apologize, did I? I told you to say whatever you said to your mother again. Oh and Lin will fact check incase you miss something, won't you Lin?" he says and Lin nods quietly, knowing far too well not to make her father angry with her.

"go on. Or do you want me to highlight some points for you. Tell us how you're embarrassed by your mother, and how you hate it when she gets involved in your super personal business hmm?"

Juno looks at you and you stand up and tell Changbin to let it go. "I don't want you to apologize to her because I'm not through with you. You won't introduce her to your girlfriend? She won't meet her and neither will I. If this is how you treat your mother, I'm ashamed to think how you treat girls around you. Go to your room" Changbin's words are heavy and Juno, who is a tough kid, starts crying.

"mom dad please, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry".

Changbin sits on the seat next to you and changes the topic to how his day went, giving your head a tight squeeze. You know what he's doing and you want to hug Juno but he needs to learn his lesson.

"and Minho hyung tried so hard not to call me out so I kept testing his patience" he says smiling at the memory, continuing his story.

Juno stands next to Lin's seat, trying to get your attention but you're playing Changbin's game and he will teach his son a lesson. Just because he babies his children a lot doesn't mean they get a free pass to disrespect you or him.

Hyunjin

You and Hyunjin only have one daughter, Yerim. As much as you guys want more children, your health doesn't allow you to conceive so you accept it. You can always have another child later, when you're healthy. With only one child, both of you spoiling her, there's no wonder she was beginning to become rotten to the bone. (lmao what did I just write)

You didn't like how your 13 year old kept inviting her friends over without letting you know about it. You always find random people in your house and her coming home late. You feared what kind of habits your daughter was indulging in. You complained about the unwanted company to Hyunjin and he told Yerim to at least let you know beforehand. What was that? He's just allowing her to invite random people to your place? You hate this and are going to talk to her, since her father won't do anything about it.

Hyunjin just left with Seungmin and now is the perfect opportunity to talk to her.

"Yerim-ah don't you think it's a little weird that people we're not completely familiar with just roam around in our house? It's uncomfortable and what if something gets stolen. If you really need to invite people over, make sure it's just your friends"

"what's the big deal mom? chill out no one's stealing anything lol. And like dad didn't say anything about it, so don't tell me who I can or can't invite"

"never speak to me like that again. You're living under my roof, and I'm warning you. I don't want to see anyone in this house that's not your friend. Got it?" yeah you weren't gonna let the spoiled princess sass you, you're the sass queen.

"omg mom you're not the boss of me and get out of my room" she says shoving your shoulder.

You being weak sauce, lose your balance with the shove and try grabbing onto something to keep yourself from falling. You are caught by your husband's arms, his expression of shock and pure rage.

"yah! Yerim ah!" he's never yelled at her before and the girl is startled.

"I didn't do anything dad she tripped on her own"

"I don't want to hear another word from your spoiled mouth. You are grounded for a week"

"dad no you can't do that my friends are coming over today"

"you are not allowed to call anyone over again, you hear me?"

Hyunjin makes Yerim apologize to you and leaves the room with you. Your daughter crying and throwing tantrums in her room. He apologizes to you for being ignorant and tucks you in bed with snacks and water and leaves with his card, which he came back to get.

Jisung

You weren't the type of woman to let people be rude to you and bring you down, you're a force to be reckoned with and that's what Jisung loves about you. So when Doyoung, your 16 year old son was talking back at you for staying over at his friend's house without letting you know where he was, you were having none of it.

"you have the audacity to disobey me, you could've at least sent me a text or answered my calls!"

"buzz off mom, I'm not a baby anymore, stop acting like I depend on you"

"I'm not acting like that. Watch your mouth. I'm concerned about you. What's wrong with you Doyoung, when did you get so rebellious"

"I'm not rebellious, you're so annoying. I'm just doing what I want to do and you can't handle that because you have issues. You can't handle that dad is almost never home and you want me to be here so you don't lose your fucking mind!"

You're taken aback, you can't believe that the child who never created much fuss because he didn't want to overburden you, is now grown-up to talk shit to you. Your jaw is hung open, your dad never spoke to you like that, Jisung never spoke to you like that. How can someone you gave birth to, and cared for and loved unconditionally ever since, speak to you like that. You feel miserable because you love him too much but he hurt you, had it been anyone else you'd have slapped them square across the cheek. Doyoung leaves you and you're sitting on the couch still processing his words and the pain in your chest. Jisung comes home 2 hours later and you're lying on the couch, hugging the cushion. He greets you and you hum trying to hide your gloomy mood. He picks it up and sits next to you. Jisung notices your swollen face, from crying and how uncomfortable you are.

"what's wrong honey?"

"nothing, I'm not feeling myself today, I'm going to bed"

"going to bed? It's 7 pm, are you feeling okay?"

"yeah I just need to rest" you say, your voice cracking. Jisung grabs you by your wrist and makes you face him. You burry your face in your hands and cry hard, he embraces you, extremely worried.

"y/n something happened. Tell me, you're worrying me"

"I'm not feeling okay Jisung, it's nothing really" you manage to say between sobs.

"I've known you for 22 years, and the times I've seen you cry, I can count it on my fingers. Something is up, talk to me please"

"Jisung do you think I'm going insane? Am I annoying?" you sob hard

"what? Where did that come from? Of course not, why're you saying that?" he's getting angry because someone clearly hurt you.

"you're only saying that aren't you"

"look at me, you know me way too well. You know I would never lie to make you feel better. Now tell me who hurt you" his grip on your wrist tightens and you're afraid of how he will react but he won't rest until you give him a name, so you get to the point.

"Doyoung, he snuck out last night and when I scolded him, he said I'm trying to keep him locked at home because dad's never home and I'm annoying and going crazy" fresh tears spill from your eyes. You're crying like a baby because your son really hurt you with his words. Jisung doesn't know what to say, he rubs your back and takes you to your bedroom. He runs a bath for you and takes good care of you. You're tired from crying all day so you're knocked out almost instantly. He quietly slips out of bed and goes to Doyoung's room.

"hey have you seen your mother?" he pretends to not know.

"she was in the lounge the last time I saw her, might be in your room"

"no she's not there, I looked for her so I came her thought maybe she'd be here"

"uh no, did you call her?" Doyoung asks starting to feel guilty and concerned.

"yeah, she's not answering" he says calmly, studying his son's expressions. He can clearly see panic and guilt setting in.

"dad we gotta look for her, where could she have gone?" Doyoung gets out of bed and puts his shoes on.

"uh no, let it go. She's so annoying anyway, maybe she finally lost her fucking mind and got lost" Jisung says as he leaves the room, making it clear that he knows what went down and now it's hell for Doyoung.

"dad, no, I- where's mom? I need to talk to her"

"go to bed Han Doyoung" Jisung gives him a stern look and he quickly goes back to bed.

You don't speak to him for 2 days and he's crying and begging for your attention.

"mom please I'm sorry, I was stupid for saying that please talk to me"

Felix

Felix has a very good relationship with his children Eve (Evelyn) 14 and Danny (Dennis) 11. You are a perfect family. Good genes, pretty smiles, everything about you guys is perfect. Your children are well mannered, smart and talented, like their father. Everyone always complemented the family and thw children for being respectable and warm. So Felix couldn't believe his ears when he walked in and heard Eve yelling at you. Danny and Eve had gotten into a fight and you were trying to resolve it. Eve was clearly at fault but she was not having it. To her, she didn't push Danny down the stairs because he mocked her dancing. She was simply defending herself because Danny was being mean to her (yeah right Eve). Right now, Danny was clinging to you with a bruise on his temple and lip, pain in the left elbow, which you treated and gave medicine for. You scolded Eve for the absurdity of her actions.

"what if something big happened to your brother huh? How could you do this Eve, I can't believe you"

"mom please shut up you're acting dumb. I was defending myself he just slipped"

"Lee Evelyn Hyeri! How dare you use foul words with me"

"oh my God mom please you're-"

Felix walks in the room, disappointment evident on his face. "look me in the eye and say that again Evelyn".

Her eyes go wide oh shit. "dad mom is taking Danny's side, she's being unfair".

Felix looks at Danny's tear stained face, he's sitting in your lap, clinging to your torso. It makes him upset seeing his son hurt and his children fighting but the reason behind his pain is his own sister.

"apologize to Danny and mama right now"

"but-" "right now" he says in his low dark voice. "no" she screams with tears of frustration in her eyes.

Felix hugs her to calm her down and reasons with her, calmly telling her about what could've happened if Danny's fall was serious and how hard you work for them and the sacrifices you make. By the end of the father daughter session, she comes to you and you for a hug and apologizes for her actions and words. Felix comes in for a hug too.

Perfect family.

Seungmin

Like Seungmin, his children were calm and collected. But there was one problem, they inherited the savagery from him and sass from you. That's a lethal combo. Your family was like that, always messing with each other, displaying your sass and savagery. To an outsider, you guys were always fighting but you all knew it was fun and games. That's all that matters right? The family should know your intentions.

So it wasn't hard for Seungmin to sense your 15 year old son Keith's (Kyungsoo) intentions of hurting you when he said you're a weak woman. You and Keith were arm wrestling and he cheated and smacked your hand hard and out of excitement went "hey loser, don't even think of a rematch you're weak and you know it". With this you, Seungmin and your 10 year old Hyesung went silent.

"stop that" Seungmin said before Keith could say anything else.

"I won. I won. I won. Huh. You're no match for me woman"

"Keith you're hurting your mother I said stop it" Seungmin says and Keith looks at you, feeling guilty. You were physically weak, it was commm knowledge, working around the house made you tired easily and your boys helped you with the chores, you were in this together. It made you upset that you couldn't put you 100% in for them but whatever you did was more than enough and they knew that. So Keith saying this made you upset. He realized his mistake and sat down to hug your legs. "I'm sorry mom, I didn't mean it like that. I love you and I really appreciate you" he says. You kiss the top of his head "I love you too" you say.

Jeongin

You're pregnant with your third child and it's getting hard to do work around the house. Your older children 13 year old Jihoo and 7 year old Yedam do whatever they can for you but you have to admit, Yedam is more considerate than Jihoo. All Jihoo does is play games and stay in his room. Jeongin doesn't notice much because he comes home late. By the time he comes, you're either asleep on the couch or the bed or you're cleaning the kitchen. He always helps you when he sees you working. You're right months in and Jeongin decides to take some time off work to be by your side so he comes home early. None of you hear him come in. You're feeling sick and ask Jihoo to bring you medicine but he refuses and tells you to get it yourself.

"Jihoo if I could I would get it myself, please I'm really sick and I need to make dinner"

"mom I'm not your servant, please go away, ask Yedam to get it"

"and she's your servant right? She cooks for you and cleans after you in this condition, she's practically a servant for you Yedam" Jeongin interrupts, seething.

Yedam is embarrassed and tries to explain himself. Jeongin takes your hand and brings you to your bedroom. He tells you to wait and gets the medicine and snacks for you.

"I'm sorry he talked to you like that. I don't know why he's like that but I'll talk some sense into him" Jeongin says rubbing his neck.

You rest your head on the head of the bed, feeling dizzy. "mm remember when we had him, we were over joyed, ready to die for him. I never thought he'd be like this" you say.

"I'll make sure this doesn't happen again y/n I'm sorry for not teaching our boys, I'll be better for them" he says and kisses you.

[checkurwindow]

Crash and Burn

3 months.

That’s how long it’s been since Tony and y/n’s once close relationship had deteriorated to absolutely nothing.

3 months of longing, heartbreak, and regret, yet he only had himself to blame. She had tried, she tried so hard to make things work between them. Every time he changed his mind, every time he hesitated, she was the one who compromised to satisfy him, yet she never complained, not even once. He was too much of a coward to admit it, to admit how much he cared about her to her, and himself.

He kept coming up with reasons why they shouldn’t be together, why they couldn’t be together, why they would be better off apart, because that was what he wanted...right? He wanted this, he kept assuring himself that this was the right thing to do, that this was the only way he could keep them both safe. Everything had been fine for a while, until one late night.

Making his way downtown to a bar he knew y/n frequented with her friends, he should’ve known that he was bound to run into her, but as fate might have it, he was immensely drunk and rational thoughts had been thrown out the window quite a while back.

He should’ve known that she’d be there, laughing and chatting happily with her close group of friends, the frequent clueless guy walking up to their booth and offering to buy her a drink.

Fools. He thought to himself, they were all fools, thinking they could be with her one night and come out the next the same. That night, he unknowingly tested the theory himself.

She had caught him staring, but instead of looking away, she held his gaze, the tension between them agonizing for both parties, so it wasn’t long before one thing led to another and they were stumbling around his room in the dark. The next day when he woke up albeit hungover but more importantly sober, he realized what he had done, what he vowed to himself he wouldn’t. He told her it was a mistake, a night that couldn’t possibly happen again. Seeing as mere seconds later she stormed out of his place with tears brimming her eyes, she didn’t take it too well.

“Are you even listening to me?” Fury’s voice brought him out of his flashback.

“No, no I wasn’t,” Tony admitted, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I said that I need the team in Quebec, take London, Y/l/n and Knightly with you too,” He explained, “you leave in 4 hours , go tell y/l/n , I haven't been able to reach her comms, ” he finished and gestured for Tony to leave the room.

He sighed as he started his search for her. When he finally found her, and with her was Eli London, a fellow SHIELD agent of hers. He said something to her, making her almost burst out in laughter. Oh how Tony had dreamed of being the one to constantly be the one to make her laugh. His thoughts stopped along with his feet when Eli leaned closer to her, their lips dangerously close.

He quickly stalked towards them, anger building up inside him, yet he knew he had no right to be angry or jealous, they weren't together, he had made it clear to her that night, yet he can't help but long to be in Eli's position.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat behind them, they instantly sprung apart.

"Y/l/n, we're due in Quebec, be at the runway in 4 hours," he said and turned on his heel, starting to walk away.

"What's the mission in Quebec for?" she asked and he reluctantly turned around.

"Fury will brief us on the way, so I suggest you stop flirting and get your priorities straight, because I don't need another incident like Boston on my conscience," he spat out, venom laced his words even though he didn't mean it.

She winced at those last words, a look of hurt flashed across her eyes as memories of how she failed to save all those people because she wasn't focused washed over her. He knew that he had struck a chord he didn't mean to, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that last part," he grabbed her hand before she was out of reach and apologised but it was no use, the damage had been done.

"No, you shouldn't have," she stated and pulled free from his grasp before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving him stood there dumbfounded and angry at himself for letting it slip out.

4 and a half hours had passed and yet only one of the agents had arrived. Tony was worried, he had started fidgeting with his watch, his hair, anything to take his mind of her.

"Sorry we're late, we got caught up with training," Y/N said as she and Eli rushed onto the tarmac.

"Good, I was starting to get worried about you," Tony said, locking eyes with the only person in the group her cared about.

"That's no use as you lost the right to care 2 months ago," she said and brushed past him and into the awaiting quinjet.

He walked in last, his eyes scanning the jet for empty seats when his eyes landed on the only open one, of course, he thought as he slipped into the seat next to her.

She took out the book she was planning to read on the flight over when her phone vibrated. It was a message from her brother, Jaden.

Good luck with the mission! I'm buying you dinner when you get back! Love ya!

She smiled to herself as she began to write a reply when she noticed Tony's eyes on her.

"Is that Eli?" He asked quietly.

Normally it would've been a natural question, seeing how close she and Eli had grown these past few months, especially when her relationship with Tony, whether it be professional or romantic, had crumbled.

"I don't want to do this right now, Tony," she warned, "and frankly, it doesn't concern you who texts me and who doesn't, as I'm sure you know you've made abundantly clear time and time again. And no, it wasn't Eli, it was my brother," she didn't bother giving him the chance to explain, simply putting on her ear buds and opening her book.

He let out a frustrated sigh, this wasn't how he wanted this conversation to go, he wanted to apologise to her, about everything, and tell her how deeply and overwhelmingly in love he was with her.

It was an hour into the peace and quiet when Jace, another agent, pointed out the looming weather in the distance. "It looks pretty bad," he said.

Y/n, of course, didn't hear him with the music playing loudly in her ears.

Tony turned towards her, tapping her shoulder lightly.

“What?” She growled, very obviously annoyed. He could hear the voice of Lin Manuel Miranda blasting through her earbuds.

“Definitely Hamilton” he thought to himself. She had always been obsessed with the musical, constantly trying to get him to sing along.

He opened his mouth again to speak up but everything went dark.

“Jace? Jace wake up!” Tony heard Steve say a few feet away from him as he sat up, propping himself up with his elbows.

He coughed loudly into his blackened sleeve, his throat dry and hoarse and his ear ringing.

“Tony, are you okay? Can you walk?” Natasha asked as she stood up, slightly limping.

Tony stood up, his leg working somewhat fine, “Yeah, I’m mostly fine, but my chest hurts like hell,” he explained to her.

“Guys? Guys where’s-“ Eli stopped himself to breathe as he felt an overwhelming sensation of pain run in his leg, where a large gash visibly cut across his left thigh, “fuck,” he breathed deeply, “ where’s y/n?” He questioned.

“I-I don’t know, I was still conscious a few seconds into the crash, I saw her face but then I blacked out again,” Jace confessed anxiously.

“W-wait, I-I hear something, something banging against metal,” Eli panted as he finally caught his breath.

They followed the sound to about 20 feet away from where they were before. Below a large metal piece of the plane lay y/n, a large gash on her right cheek.

“Oh god, y/n!” Tony rushed to her side, kneeling beside her, “W-What hurts?”

“You mean what doesn’t hurt?” She quipped weakly before coughing again, blood staining her cut lip.

He glared at her,letting her know that it wasn’t the time to be making jokes.

“I-I can’t feel my chest, my head is throbbing, I think my right leg is bleeding, honestly everything hurts,” she said and sucked in shallow breath, her body not allowing her to do any more.

Tony was panicking, his supposedly genius mind unable to find a coherent thought for the first time ever, “E-Eli! I need you to help me here!” He yelled at the younger agent, “On 3, we have to lift this up,” he said, his eyes trained on the metal frame that held y/n down.

Eli nodded, his hands finding a place on the frame, “1...2…”

“3!” They pushed together with all their might, desperate to do something to help y/n, but to no avail, even with their combined strength, it wasn’t enough to lift it off of her.

The other gathered around, injured but not nearly as severe as y/n.

Tony tried again, this time without Eli’s help, as he was sitting next to him, applying pressure on his own wound.

“Why are you guys just standing there? I need your help!” Tony pleaded with them, almost out of breath.

“They know...Tony, it’s too late…” her soft voice said, volume barely above a whisper.

“N-no, there was to be something we can do, I can’t let you just…I won’t let you just leave me like this! Not…” he sucked in a deep breath, “ not after I left you,” he conceded.

She reached out, taking his hand with hers, “It’s okay, Tony, I-I…” her breathe became softer, her eyes fluttering close.

“No-no,” his thoughts clouded and his vision became blurry, tears rolling down his face, “you can’t just- Fuck!” He yelled at no one in particular, “pl-

\

Tony woke up in a cold sweat, his heartbeat racing and his mind all over the place.

It was a dream.

He looked over to his bedside clock, 2:36 am

He jumped out of bed, throwing on a nearby t-shirt and ran down the hallway, rapidly knocking on her door. After 15 seconds of silence, he tried knocking again, his head hanging but he still had the slightest bit of hope.

He heard the sound of a door opening and looked up, the door still closed.

“Tony, what are you doing?” Rhodey, who was sleeping over, asked.

“W-where is she? I need to talk to her,” he said, furiously knocking on the door again. His knuckles were starting to hurt but he kept knocking as fast as he could.

“Tony…” Rhodey started, but Tony didn’t look at him, his attention trained on the door in front of him, “Tony, stop…” Rhodey said, grabbing Tony’s hand and pushing it back down.

“W-where’s y/n?” Tony asked desperately.

“Tony please, don’t do this-”

“Tell me, please. I need to talk it out with her, I know I’m wrong but I need to tell her I love her and I need to make everything right, I-”

“Tony…” Rhodey’s voice becomes softer, “the crash was 2 years ago…”

It wasn’t a dream.

Author’s note: Welp, I uh, I wrote my first one shot?? I’m not used to writing one shots so do let me know how it was!

Your favourite Tumblr (well this is new, I’m usually on wattpad lol) author,

CheckUrWindow

[endless-array-of-tom]

Twisted Fate (2/2) [loki x reader]

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Request: Can I request 12 on fluff/general “how did you get in here?” For Loki and it’s like him coming back to the reader after having left her and it’s been the first tie they’ve seen each other in like 5 years or something. When he gets in the house he sees that she has a child who is his.

Prompt: “How did you get in here?”

Word Count: 3,513

Part 2/2

Click here for Part 1

A/n: I had a lot of trouble trying to make a “read more” break but I finally gave up ‘cause I don’t have a clue on how to do it. If you have idea on how to do it (or make a functioning mobile masterlist & add a link to bio from mobile) PLEASE help me out!! On the other hand I want to apologize for being so late with the next part, but I still hope you all enjoy it!!

“Mommy! Can I have cookie dough?” A young boy, no older than six begged his mother as he yanked his mother’s blouse desperately. His sapphire eyes glowed brightly as they brimmed with fake-tears, completing what was called the “puppy-dog” look.

His mother sighed as she kneeled down, ruffling his raven-black hair mercilessly, grinning widely. “I guess you can, but what about me? What flavor do you think mommy would like today?” The young boy gasped in shock, before staring at the menu in thought.

“How about… (f/f)? You seem to like that one a lot…” he suggested as he somehow managed to climb up his mother and tug her shoulders for support (expectedly).

“I think you’re right, Jay.” His mother smiled as she made her way up to the front, placing her order in…

__

“Here you go, there’s your ice-cream. Now let’s go home, and remember to eat it quickly— it’s going to melt all in your hands if you don’t.” The boy eagerly nodded as he pushed the glass doors wide open, walking down the streets and enjoying his ice-cream in his hands.

The mother laughed as she watched her son pounce around any nearby pigeons, watching them flee made her son laugh happily as he continued his way home. She took a bite out of her own ice-cream as thoughts began to drown her mind, not enough to lose sight of where Jay was going though.

Five years. It had really been five years since he left, without a word nor a trace of where he could possibly be. In the beginning, she was an absolute wreck— crying almost every day and pleading to herself that’ll she’ll see him march right through her doors and apologize to her, accepting both her and their baby. But he didn’t. Not once in five years…

She asked frequently to Thor where his brother would be, but he also had no idea himself where Loki was located. But that didn’t stop her. As she was in her seventh month of pregnancy she gave up on the possibility of Loki ever arriving again, and then the thoughts swelled in: if he wasn’t going be in the picture she would damn make sure she was.

And from there it began; torturous hours of being in labor and delivering a son that became the best (lovable/charitable) person in her life. Thor, accompanying her through most steps of the way had helped name her child…

Jay(lin) Cuyler (L/N).

Jaylin, meaning “the beautiful (blue) jaybird.” Symbolizing that he would grow up to be an intelligent and determined young lad, who’s both fearless and well-protected by the people surrounding him (and vice versa), and full of truthfulness.

Cuyler, was given to him by her family, meaning “strong man.” The dualism was that in Norse it had also meant “archer/bowman,” which could tie into him being incredibly keen and impeccable vision.

Her last name was respectively placed as her son’s last name, due to the fact that she wasn’t too sure how good it would be to have her father’s name there, nor how much he would like it. Besides that, she didn’t think people would be incredibly accepting to know his name was “Lokison,” though to be frank, she couldn’t give a damn about other’s people views of hers, what simply mattered was how Jay was going to have health with it; therefore, she decided to lay it off and not tell him until he was possibly much older.

As they made their way through the cobblestone path, (Y/N) dismissed her thoughts to see her son jump on every big stone in his path, mimicking the god of thunder as he waved his hands through the air, a stick firmly held.

“I am Thor, son of Odin. And I will bring lightning down and scary storms if you don’t listen to me!” He taunted to a squirrel, amazed at how the animal didn’t budge, he pressed on. “You shall then face the mighty wrath of me… don’t say I didn’t warn you…” (Y/N) stifled a laugh as she prepared on what was to happen, seeing her son bang the stick on the ground as he screamed the highest and loudest he’s ever in his entire life.

The squirrel soon reacted, grabbing its acorn and sprinting away deeper into the woods. “Ha! I won, no one is matched for me!” (Y/N) laughed again as she crept closer to her son slowly, careful not to step on a dry twig.

If only Thor could see this… she thought. I would be incredibly insulted, and pleased. Her arms then latched onto the young boy, grabbing him and bringing him up into the air, cautiously swinging him around as she tickled him.

“N-no w-wait-t! M-mom! S-s-to-op it!” Her son cried terribly as a series of giggles echoed through the forest. She soon halted her actions, settling him back down onto the ground. Her son pouted, giving her a very mad look.

“I told you to stop, that wasn’t nice.”

“Well… I did, didn’t I? It just took a tad bit longer than you expected it to be.” She smiled mischievously in response, extending her arm out.

“C’mon, let’s get you back home— we don’t want it to get dark before we arrive now do we?”

The young boy shook his head before springing back into action and running through the path all the way to their home in the woods.

When Jay was born, (Y/N) is certain when she said she had no idea what to do. She mapped out a general idea of how to prepare, read books and articles of becoming a mother, and begged her friends around to help guide her along the way for moral support.

Looking back, she would’ve laughed at the thought of panicking as much as she did— though she couldn’t blame herself for worrying.

Over the years Jay had grown up to become a very handsome young boy. He looked almost an exact replica of Loki, his shimmering personality didn’t help one bit either… In school, all the girls in his class made sure to greet him in the morning and in the afternoon, but Jay didn’t really spare them a glance at that, his primary goal was to get to the LEGOs and play with the other boys before class began.

One thing had started… that (Y/N) had noticed. At night, Jay had begun to get a lot more nightmares— waking up in a cold sweat, but that wasn’t the biggest issue. The truth was, Jay was still half of his father, which meant he was half-frost giant.

Certain times through the night when she checked upon him, his hand would be blue. Next, his arm, sometimes he legs— but never a full-body transformation. (Y/N) wasn’t scared of the fact that he had adopted that gene of being a frost-giant because it wasn’t disgusting at all… really, the ability was remarkable.

But there was a possibility that Jay would one day wake up and see it, and she wasn’t exactly sure how to prepare herself and tell him. Mind the fact, Jay was incredibly scared of monsters, he was… Dinosaurs were neat, but monsters he’d heard of and seen in his books weren’t. And she didn’t want her kid, either to wake up and one day sees it, or someone else. And then they call him a monster.

(Y/N) had grown extremely protective of her son, though she tends to deny it. She wasn’t going to let any punk tell her son he was a monster, because he was far from that.

(Y/N) opened the door as the keys rattled in reply, settling her things down on the counter.

“Jay, why don’t you go run and grab some new clothes for you to change into after you shower? You’re covered with mud,” she suggested, watching as her son eagerly nodded and headed out the kitchen.

What she didn’t expect, was to hear him call out to her.

“Mom?” He asked except she could hear the worry laced in his voice as he called out her name as he called her again…

___ __ A Little Bit Before __ ___

“Jay, why don’t you go run and grab some new clothes for you to change into after you shower? You’re covered with mud,” (Y/N) suggested, the little boy eagerly nodding his head and heading out the door that separated the kitchen from the living room.

As little Jay hummed a tune to himself and skipped across the floor, as he reached the stairs he came to an abrupt stop. His humming died as he whipped his head around, his eyes darting to the figure sitting down on his couch nervously, staring at him; the stranger’s blue eyes staring into his; the man almost looked exactly liked him, except much older.

“Mom?” Jay cried out, scared, as he held onto the stick still in his grasp. His eyes widened as the man seemed to get the hint that he was terrified, and stood up silently, raising his pointer finger to his mouth, and making a small “shush” sound. This, aggravated the little boy more as he scurried near the kitchen door again, calling out for his mother once more. If they hadn’t met on such terms, Jay had a feeling he would’ve really liked the man, but that wasn’t the time.

Jay heard the door swing open and watched his mother rush in, panicked.

“Jay? What’s going on—“ she stopped as she saw the stranger, her eyes widening in surprise. She gulped as she saw the man before them, instinctively grabbing her son’s hand and gently tugging him near her. Crouching down, she ruffled her son’s hair again, seeing his nose crinkle at her actions.

“Honey, I want you to go upstairs and go play with your toys for now, okay? Mommy will be up there, soon.” Jay titled his head to the side in confusion, before gesturing to his dirtied attire.

“But mom, my clothes—“

“Don’t worry about it, okay? Just go and do what I told you to do,” she spoke out, embracing her son. “But make sure, to lock the door.” She whispered to him, his eyes widened as he nodded in response, making his way up the stairs and to his room.

“I love you!” (Y/N) called out, hearing her son soon reply with the same words made her heart swell. As she heard the faint sound of the door closing, her eyes narrowed at the man in front of her.

“How did you get in here?” She questioned quite aggressively as she saw him move from his position, aligning himself across from her as he gazed at her sorrowfully.

“The backdoor was open…”

“Don’t give me that, Loki. I know it wasn’t opened.” She retorted, watching as he brought a hand up to his face, pushing the loose strands of hair back. “Then you already know the answer of how I got in, now I wish to know this… is that my son?”

(Y/N)’s heart dropped at his words, she didn’t know how to reply. Of course, the child was his, but what if he came here for the child? To take him? (Y/N) would certainly lose her sanity, at least the very left she’d been desperately attempting to cling onto, the sanity only being near her son could give her.

“Yes. Why do you wish to know?” She dragged out, watching his every move; as he leaned forward, she stepped back. “He’s a bright young man, clever too.” He complimented, taking another step towards her, watching her reaction.

“I know, no help from you,” she sarcastically remarked, trying to keep her cool in that very moment, afraid what would happen if he found out just how frightened she was on the outside. She took another step back, her hands behind her back in an attempt to hide them from him— her trembling hands.

“I just want to talk, (Y/N). To apologize,” Loki uttered out, taking another giant advance towards her.

“No,” she spoke out. “You had five years to come and talk, to apologize, but you didn’t… what do you really want, Loki? Just what are you doing here?”

Loki gulped, and for the first time… looked stumped. Completely surprised, and guilty. (Y/N) could see it, it was written all over his face, but she wasn’t going to trust it immediately, in case he had other intentions of showing up unexpectedly.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing, to see my son and how he was… and to apologize for everything. Truly.” She stopped stepping backward and took a good long look at him; he looked spent.

He was still devilishly handsome, there was no doubt about it, but it looked like his face had slightly sunken in, the bags under his eyes were heavily noticeable, and his hair wasn’t slicked back and taken care of as he usually had it. To be honest, he looked like a hot mess.

“Sit down at the couch, say what you have to say with me, and then leave.” She declared, knowing that some of the words stung him hard. He complied without any complaints, slowly placing himself on the couch with his hands up in the air, before gesturing to the space on the opposite couch across from him.

(Y/N) nodded as she did the same, placing her hands in her lap.

“Now, what do you want to say to me?”

“I apologize,” he said.

“You’ve already said that, what else?”

“I want to say I’m sorry I’ve betrayed you, to the both of you. I really am. Five years ago, I lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and it was all because I was afraid…”

Soon, Loki’s last words (five years ago) echoed through your mind. “I won’t fuck up my child’s life with me being in the picture…”

“At that point in time, I wasn’t ready… and it wasn’t the fact of being scared of what I created, but having to raise it being the person I am. Love,” he croaked out, staring into your bright irises, before turning away to stare at the floor beneath him. “You don’t know the things I’ve done, not even a portion of the terrible crimes I’ve committed… what’s worse, is for some of them… I enjoyed it.”

“The point is… what would happen if he found out who I was? All that I’ve done? And what would everyone else think? He’d be accused of unspeakable things, let alone things he never once dreamt about—“

“So removing yourself from the picture helped?” She mustered out, seeing as his eyes found hers again in a state of panic.

“No—“

“Because it didn’t. Loki, it tore me apart. Jay doesn’t talk about it, but he wants a father, he’s curious, Loki. He needs a father, and I can tell you he couldn’t care who it was! Just someone who’d be there for him through thick-and-thin, and bring him up when he falls! Loki! How long do you think he’ll go on before he realizes and asks who his father is? How mad do you think he’d be if he found out not only who you were, but how you left. Loki. He’s a smart boy, even if I didn’t tell him, he’d piece together it all, and he’d be broken too.”

Loki flinched at her words, hearing the words echo within him.

He’d be broken too. Too.

She was broken too. Much more than she let on… he knew it. But the words dripping from her lips made it much worse, it stung. Badly. So bad he didn’t know what to do— he didn’t know what to say; he couldn’t reassure her, he already overstepped his boundaries by entering her life out of the blue.

Tears filled his vision without him knowing, as he stood up from his seat, ignoring her worried-look.

“I guess in the end… I fucked up my child’s life… even with me not being in the picture.” He said, trying his best to play it off as a joke and chuckle in the end, but all he saw was her vision becoming teary as well. “Not only that, I screwed up the life of the person I love most. No matter what I do, I screw everything up, don’t I?” Loki kneeled down and wiped the tears from his love’s eyes, giving her a small smile.

“(Y/N). I’m sorry, for everything. You don’t have to forgive me, and if you never will, I can accept that. If you don’t want to ever see me again, I can manage it. After all, you’ve gotten along so well without me, both you and Jay will find happiness, whether with or without me. I don’t deserve any of this, anything… really. But I want to tell you all of this before regret eats me alive, and I know it isn’t fair to you… which is why I leave you with the option…”

“Do you want me to leave?”

(Y/N) felt as if her whole world had collapsed again, her heart shattering again. And she didn’t know why.

She shouldn’t be this sad, feel this empty at this moment. She shouldn’t be wanted to grab him and never let go, to desperately feel his embrace again, or to hear him laugh and he smiles brightly.

She was strong, she’s been this strong, for years… she didn’t need a man in her life to make her feel complete, for years…

So why?

Why did she want him to be in the picture?

He left. He deserted her and left her. Her and her son. For years, without a trace, a hint, or even a gesture to say the things unsaid for so long. He loves her. He didn’t say it past tense, he still meant it, he meant every word.

She knew him, his words weren’t empty— they were true. And almost every thought in her mind told her to reject him, to let him rot for the actions he’s done so long ago…

But her heart ached, for so long. And seeing him suddenly appear out of thin air, caused all of her walls to crumble down within a matter of minutes. Maybe even seconds….

She couldn’t believe it after all this time— she still loves him.

Even with all his mistakes, from all of his words, she forgave him so easily, just him returning back— she’d already forgiven him.

Forgiveness is the final form of love.

More tears streamed down her face and she held onto his shirt carelessly, tucking her head into his chest as she shook it furiously.

“N-no,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to leave, even after everything. I should hate you, you know. I shouldn’t even want to see you ever again after what you’ve done…”

Loki’s heartstrings tugged.

“But no matter what you’ve done, I can’t do that. I can’t ever do that to you, Loki. I love you too.” She mustered out, before going limp into his arms as she continued to cry, Loki quickly rubbing soothing circles on her back as he enveloped her fully, muttering all types of “thank you”s to her as she calmed down.

Loki knew it would be a challenge, to confess his apologizes, and see her reaction. He also knew she wouldn’t be open to suddenly returning to the relationship they had five years ago, she needed time to not only forgive him, but he needed time to be able to appreciate all of her, and Jay.

He’d need to earn her love and respect for him again and develop an entirely new one with Jay. But right now, it was unspeakably going to be worth it. Every ounce of energy was going to be dedicated to being devoted to both the loves of his life. Besides, if her words of still loving him were true, then perhaps he still had a fighting chance. Not to restart, but to continue forward…

_____

(Y/N) had disappeared for a bit after their little make-up session, her exact whereabouts unknown to him. All he knew was that she was somewhere upstairs… she could be telling his brother to come and kill him for all he knew.

His thoughts were soon interrupted as he heard her walk down the stairs, and a nervous smile plastered among her face. He watched her peculiarly as she gave him one last promising look, and moving out of the way to reveal their son.

For a second, his breath was gone— sucked out of him. He looked so much like him, like her as well, it was miraculous.

The young boy waddled his way over to him, afraid and holding onto his mother’s hand tightly.

“Jay... I want you to meet— your father.” The boy’s eyes widened at her statement.

“D-dad…?”

Tags:

@jessiejunebug

@hellethil

@atomiczineprofessoroperator

[coneygoil]

The Home We Built Together, part 30

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29

Writer’s note: The 19th marked one year that I first posted this fic!! It’s amazing to see how far it’s come! 

Her breathing was even now.

Astrid had fallen asleep against his side, her head resting upon his slender chest. Hiccup hadn’t loosened his hold on her. He couldn’t, not after almost losing her.

His heart had plummeted to the bottom of his stomach when he realized Astrid had fallen from the saddle. There was little comfort when he looked back to find she’d landed on a ledge. The red dragon had instantly sensed her presence there.

“We gotta go back, bud!”

Toothless didn’t hesitate firing at the red dragon. He aimed for its most vulnerable part – the eyes (and Night Furies never miss) -- and the dragon retreated, furious and snarling. The short window gave them enough time to rescue Astrid.

There was a lot to be said and discussed. A plan to formulate. A village and a whole fleet of dragons to protect. But now was not the time.

Hiccup had noticed Astrid’s behavior after the rescue. She was clearly shaken and upset, but when she collapsed in his arms sobbing uncontrollably, it was then that Hiccup realized how deeply it had affected her. Astrid was a pillar of strength, and to see her in such a state of distress had jarred him.

A new commitment welled up inside him. A fierce need to protect that he’d never experience before.

Hiccup was always the one in need of protection. He was the talking fishbone that could barely lift a weapon. He never had to worry about anyone but himself, really. But now? There was more at stake than just his puny well being.

Hiccup squeezed Astrid’s sleeping form a little closer against him, planting a tender kiss to her golden crown. He kept his lips pressed in her hair and whispered the three words he wished to utter aloud, “I love you.”

As if his confession stirred her from slumber, Astrid shifted in his arms. Her hair brushed his jawline as she lifted her head to sleepily look at him. Hiccup waited with bated breath. Had she heard his confession? Would she return the endearment? The first signs of daylight were peeking on the horizon, and the lamp continued to burn low on the bedside table. She blinked her eyes, still puffy from the breakdown she’d had not even a couple hours before.

Astrid cupped his cheek, her fingertips brushing softly on his skin. Hiccup nuzzled into her palm. He’d never had the chance to feel a loving touch before. He never knew his mother and his father only held him as a young boy. He’d longed for something his skin had never experienced. But now, he could have it and he closed his eyes to savor the caress of Astrid’s hand upon his cheek.

He was pleasantly surprised with a soft kiss that he returned in sweet pecks. They continued to plant little kisses on each other’s lips as Astrid pull him with her to sit up on the bed. They’d both gotten better at kissing, having lots of practice as of late. Hiccup was thankful they’d gotten passed the awkward dance of shyness of expressing their affections.  

With hand upon the back of his neck, Astrid drew him into a deeper kiss. A kiss that told of unspoken need. A kiss that told of unspoken of love. Astrid broke away, though only mere inches from Hiccup’s face. Their heavy breathes warmed each other’s faces. He longed to capture her lips with his once more, to pour out the love that were overflowing inside of him.

Then Astrid spoke the words that made his heart soar, “I want to be your wife in every way.”

He searched her face, the reassurance of her gaze leading him on. This was what he’d longed for. “I want to be your husband in every way.”

***

Rap. Rap.

Hiccup’s face scrunched at the loud noise banging in his head.

Rap. Rap. Rap.

He groaned at the noise banging faster. He rolled over to hide under his pillow, or at least he would have if he wouldn’t have been held down. He blinked away the blur in his vision to find an arm strapped over his chest. The golden crown of his wife was cushioned against his shoulder, and her leg was thrown over his. She was cuddled up to him like he was an oversized stuffed toy.

“Hiccup? Astrid?” the all-too familiar heavy lilt of Gobber called from outside.

Why was Gobber at their front door? Hiccup peered out the window, eyes widening in realization. It had to at least be lunchtime!

“Astrid!” he hissed, taping her arm splayed over his chest. She’d never slept this deeply before, and Hiccup wondered why she was so tired-

Oh.

The thoughts of their union just a couple hours ago suddenly slammed into his memory like a magnificent, engulfing wave. The innocent exploration of each other’s bodies. The awkward positioning as they figured out how to fit together. The satisfying pants on one another’s faces at the height of pleasure that hit all too soon. The odd thought that, yes, there was blood afterwards mingled in just as Astrid had said on their wedding night. Heat flushed on his face when Hiccup remembered they didn’t bother redressing and were sleeping against each other in their birthday suits.

Astrid rolled off him, eyes slit open just enough to see him. “Huh?”

Hiccup jumped out of bed. “Gobber is here looking for us. I think it’s lunchtime already!” Glancing down at himself, he flushed at his bare skinny body. No time to linger on the fact that he was completely nude in the middle of the day in front of his wife. He fumbled with his shirt that had been strewn on the floor, shivering at the chill of it on his warm skin. Not bothering to put on undershorts, he tugged on pants, nearly falling over in the process. He dashed down the stairs to the bottom floor, dodging furniture on the way to the front door.

Hiccup yanked open the door, revealing Gobber with hook hand half raised to knock. “Hey, Gobber,” he greeted, slightly winded. Hiccup tried to look casual as he leaned against the door, planting the other hand on his hip and giving a toothy smile that wasn’t fooling a yak.

“Hiccup, you and Astrid missed dragon training this morning. I was wondering if one of those beasts had eaten you two for breakfast.”

Hiccup focused a chuckle, trying to hold up his pants that he carelessly tied on while stumbling down the stairs. “No. Me and Astrid had a long night.” He feigned an exaggerated yawn. “We uh… just overslept.”

Gobber narrowed his beady eyes suspiciously then the older man’s bushy eyebrows lifted into his forehead. His mustache spread into a wide smile. “Oh, I see.” He leaned in close as if there were people around that might hear. There was actually no one nearby. “Did you two finally decide to take your honeymonth?”

If this was anyone besides Gobber, Hiccup would have been terrified of the consequences. But even so, he went stock still.

Gobber chuckled lightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Hiccup. Your secret is safe with me. It’s okay that it didn’t happen right away. You two are young and still discovering your bodies. Ye just needed to get some practice in before the big event.”

Hiccup raked twitchy fingers through his hair that was most likely disheveled more than usual. As much as he wanted to sink into a hole talking about the private matter, he was thankful it was Gobber as the listening ear. Gobber was probably the only one in the entire village who’d take an understanding to their decision to wait. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

Gobber straightened as he stood back. “You two kids take all the time ye need. I’ll see ye back at work when you’re ready.” He winked before lumbering off in the direction of the forge.

Hiccup stood there in the doorway wondering if that conversation actually just happened. They’d been a bit of controversy about him and Astrid not taking their honeymonth (but when was anything involving Hiccup not met with controversy). It was never addressed to them face to face, but Hiccup overheard hushed tones around the corners of buildings and passing conversation in the Great Hall. Why was the Chief’s son not spending the time with his new bride? But their consummation had been confirmed (though a little deceitfully), and they’d had permission from the Chief to continue their duties only because of the fast approaching winter months and the need to train the newest warriors for Berk’s defense against dragon raids.

Shaking himself out of his bewildering contemplation, Hiccup shut the door.

“Did Gobber give you an earful?”

Hiccup spun around to find Astrid at the top of the stairs. Dressed in a red tunic. His red tunic. With pale, bare legs extending from the hem. He stared, awestruck, mouth slightly gaping. He’d never seen her in red, but he knew instantly he wanted to see her in that color more often.

Hiccup swallowed. “He let us off the hook.” He gravitated toward Astrid descending the stairs like she was a magnet pulling him in. As if just the sheer act of kissing her wasn’t enough to make him think he was living in an amazing dream, his mind shifted once again to their marriage bed. How his lips yearned to kiss the column of her neck and beyond. “Somehow he figured out we hadn’t yet…y’know—” Hiccup laced his fingers together.

Astrid laughed softly. “If you wouldn’t have acted so obvious whenever he brought it up.”

“How am I supposed to act when talking about…that?” Most Viking men talked quite bluntly and with no shame about the makings of their marriage bed. If Hiccup was supposed to start talking that openly about his and Astrid’s privacy, then he’d rather stay in his perpetual awkward state.

Astrid sighed with a little grunt and met him in the middle of the room. “I don’t know.” Her hand found his shoulder while her other lingered on his chest, teasing the skin between his loosened shirt ties. “I’m happy we became husband and wife completely.”

Hiccup felt the breath in his lungs shudder in delight. His hands found her hips. Astrid snaked arms around his neck as he drew her closer. “Me too.” He couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his lips. “Gobber excused us from our duties.”

Astrid grinned, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger. “That means we can—”

“Go fly Toothless farther again--Ow!” Hiccup retreated into a defensive position when Astrid’s fist smacked his shoulder. “What was that for!?”

Astrid crossed arms over her chest. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m competing with a dragon for your affection.” Her mouth was an unamused straight line, but her eyes still held a twinkle.

“Toothless can’t give me this,” he replied in a deep suave tone. He pulled her by the biceps, planting a gentle peck on her lips. He shrugged a shoulder, looking thoughtful. “I mean, he could but it’d be way slobberier.”

Astrid’s grin was back. “I can hit you again, if you’d like?”

They dissolved into laughter until the moment had passed.

“What’re we going to do about the dragon’s nest?” The question sobered the mood and laid a heavy blanket of burden around them.

Hiccup frowned. “I don’t know. Not yet, at least.” The fear that clinched his heart when the massive dragon emerged from the pit returned, but that was nothing compared to losing Astrid off the back of Toothless. He could still feel the sensation of her sobbing in his arms and the fierce need to protect her that had awoken inside him.

Caressing her cheek, he vowed to her with all that was inside him, “I promise, I’ll protect you.”

Astrid search his eyes then shook her head, determined and strong as the Astrid he knew. “No, Hiccup. We protect each other.”

They held each other there in the middle of the living room, the promise bonding them together. Hiccup never knew he could feel this intensely for anything, but as they stayed there, he knew without a shadow of doubt that he’d formulate a plan to protect Berk and the dragons and Toothless. But most of all, the girl that he loved.

***

Writer’s note: It finally happened! I’d gone back and forth ever since I started this fic with whether I’d have them consummate the marriage during this fic. As the story progressed, it felt like it should happen. I’m not completely satisfied how some of this chapter came out. There were two moments that I’d been working up to and I felt I didn’t emphasize them enough. But I’ve been working on this chapter for like nearly a month now and if those parts hadn’t improved yet, then they probably weren’t going to. I’m happy with how the story is playing out and there’s so many more big things that are about to happen!

Thank you to all y’all who are keeping up with this story! I really hoped y’all are getting the same enjoyment I’m getting from writing it <3

Tags:  @martabm90​ @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e @celtictreemuffin @hey-its-laura-again

[cleverbroadwayurl]

Chiaroscuro Portraiture (Connor Murphy x Artist!Reader)

Word Count: 3070

A/N: Okay so I attempted to get this done because I felt bad about not posting so uhh if this isn’t what you wanted, please tell me and I will fix it. I tried to kinda do like what McEwan does in Atonement because let’s be real that fluffy language is amazing. But uhh yeah again: I do take criticism if it’s not up to your standards, just let me know!

Trigger Warnings: uhh kissing, language, Zoe being angry, IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Taglist: @catatonic-kuragin 

Connor didn’t mean to take a shower at 1:30 in the morning. It just sort of happened. He didn’t mean to walk past Zoe’s room when the door was cracked, it just happened. And he definitely didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the events unfolding second by second. It just kinda happened.

Of course, the staying behind to continue to listen to the conversation was a conscious decision. He’d made himself comfortable, perfectly unseen in the hallway by you and Zoe, just outside the cracked door that emitted a sliver of light. You two had been doing this for years, since before eighth grade. God, was that right? You’d been best friends with Zoe for over 4 years? He shrugged the thought off as he lowered himself to the floor, choosing to sit—sitting wouldn’t attract attention, wouldn’t make any extra noise. It would swear him to secrecy, which is exactly what he wanted. While each sentence that left your lips was inaudible, Zoe was loud. She knew her entire house would be asleep, well, unless Connor himself didn’t feel like it. But she also knew that he wouldn’t walk over and tell her to shut up. Not with you here, at least. “Oh! I remember this!” she exclaimed, followed by bangs and crashes. “Your old sketchbook! I wanna see your progress! Show me!”

That’s right, that yellow book that was bound with little metal pieces. The special paper that never seemed to flap in the wind but could catch shading like nobody’s business. He could remember you sitting in biology at the large black tables, eyes squinted in concentration towards the back of the classroom where the windows were. He always assumed you were drawing the spidery veins of branches outside, noticing how with each passing cold day, they would get bleaker and bleaker, until he assumed you were drawing something that would look like broken glass on a page. But in the summer, at the beginning of the school year, the leaves canopied the trail that the track and cross-country assholes would take to “condition” for their meets. As the year would go on, the trail would be used less and less; around Halloween, it was always muddy, and then always covered in gross slush by the time Winter came along. He assumed you liked to draw in the footprints of the poor people who had to still use those trails after a particularly rainy day. He guessed it would make for a cool drawing, at the very least.

He could remember you doing that a lot, noticing in the fall light how your hair perfectly framed your face, the light hitting it in such a way that almost made you look more delicate than those glass figurines that his mom had collected when he and Zoe were babies. Your eyes would scrunch at the windows, getting that new twig barely notable by the passing eye, but everything to you. You must’ve drawn those same trees often—Connor didn’t usually pay attention to his classmates, but he could distinctly remember you sketching like that, day after day. That had to mean you did it often. So yeah, Zoe had a point; your art must’ve gotten better as the years went on and as you kept pulling it out to do a new study of some new art term Connor had never heard before.

Connor could also remember you in his house sometime over the summer, or was it last year, sketching something in the room. Zoe would always claim to be studying with you as he lazily made a sandwich after his hellish school day, and yet somehow still irritating Zoe. He could remember you trying to capture how the light just barely lit the room in a golden glow and attempting to get each curve and angle of the room just right. He assumed you used softer leaded pencils for the walls, giving it texture that it deserved. If Connor didn’t know any better, you’d be getting into some high class college for architecture, right angles so sharp you could swear it would prick your finger by just running it over the page.

And there was of course the library. You’d always sketch in the library. Sitting at the same table, you’d construct your artistry with nothing more than imagination, a pencil, and some special paper. He’d only been in there to get a book, any book, to convince someone that he was actually doing work and actually trying. Maybe do something for his mom for once, or perhaps himself. But you were there, carefully crafting your version of the bookstacks and cases around you. It was a solid 20 minutes of him looking before he could hear you uncap that special pen with the felt tip and black ink that could stain every piece of paper if you weren’t careful enough. The angles must have been perfect that time; pen is permanent. With another glance at the aisle Connor had been in, he spotted the book he needed: Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. A nod to the librarian, and a quick glance back at you, he was off.

And then—

“Wait a second. Why are most of these done as portraiture? You hate drawing faces. And more importantly, why are they of Connor?!”

Connor misheard something. He had to have. When did you have the time, the effort, or even the means to draw him? Zoe was right, why draw him when he wasn’t anything special? Silence didn’t last long, Zoe’s demanding continuing.

“Some of these are dating like months, fuck, years ago?!”

He finally heard your voice through the cracked door as his eyes remained wide and trained onto one of the hardwood floorboards. “Zoe I can explain.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Zoe—”

“I’m serious, don’t go in depth about how much you adore my brother. I don’t want to hear it.”

Zoe bolted out of the room, completely missing Connor outside of her door as she did so. She stepped down the stairs quickly, stomping on every step as she did so, her steps almost percussive as her anger. The door nearly slammed in the draft that followed her speed, but Connor caught the white door with his foot, carefully making sure that it wouldn’t slam and actually wake up the whole house. With that same foot, he opens the door a little wider so he can actually peer in, curious about the sketches in question.

The only light that’s on is Zoe’s bedside lamp. There’s a soft glow around the room, similar to lighting a dozen candles and leaving them as the sun sets past twilight into dusk. The colorful clock against the pink shaded lamp says a harsh 2:06 AM. Had he really been out there for half an hour? His eyes shift to you, who is crumpled on Zoe’s bed. He doesn’t need to look closer to know, to understand that you’re upset. You’d just caused some kind of conflict between you and your best friend of however many years it’d been now. It probably looked like you betrayed Zoe, using her only to get to him. It’s at this moment that Connor decides to slowly step in, but is wary of the things that are on the ground.

Your sketchbook catches his eye, the beat up book open to a sketch of him, the shadows of his face darkened by a bold marker, the lights done by a hard leaded pencil. The date underneath the drawing is marked last week, showing off your progress beautifully. Connor can’t come up with any words at first. It’s…perfect, which sounded dumb to him. It perfectly took each aspect of Connor and threw it onto a page. If anyone looked at it, they would easily be able to tell exactly what Connor was like, exactly what his mannerisms were, and they would be able to easily distinguish one mood from another. It’s almost a brighter version of himself staring back at him, one who looks so confident but so lost. And Connor remained speechless, unsure of how to express his feelings.

Another minute went by before he actually said something: “Fuck, that’s really good.” A sniffle practically erupts from you before you look up at him. The two of you make eye contact, and in a swift attempt to grab the book, it ends up in Connor���s slender fingers. He begins thumbing through the pages, his eyes grazing over each and every line, every erased mark, every place you’d used pen instead of pencil, each shading variation, each curl you’d drawn; every single time you chose to draw him in a different light than he could’ve ever imagined. None of them were did in color, almost as if you were preserving the pages, as if you’d scan them in and color them digitally so you could get the blending just right. His eyes flew over dates as he kept turning, pupils dilating at each new sketch; the first drawing he’d seen was dated a little over a year and a half ago.

Then there’s one he can place; it must’ve been an exam day or something in biology because he could see the trees behind him, each branch perfectly placed, almost like someone had altered a photo rather than drawn it out. The leaves were somewhat there, the lush summer branches fading away into fall. But they’re there enough that Connor knows this was drawn at the beginning of the year—only some of the leaves are shaded in to show their differing colors. Purple was done in a dark grey, a softer lead, while green leaves were almost stark white, done in a harder leaded pencil. They were outlined beautifully by a pen, or perhaps many different pens.

Then it hits him—you didn’t care about the trees. You weren’t getting the perfect pitch of the ceilings in the kitchen that sat downstairs, memories burning onto the sketchbook’s pages. You weren’t trying to capture the world in a new light. You had been trying to get him in different shadings—a test in chiaroscuro. He had to hand it to you, each sketch was done artfully, completely taking each curve of his face and each line flowing directly into another, but in such a way you’d gotten every little thought that had ran through his head on that particular date. Connor’s heart started beating a little harder as his hands got a little sweaty, eyes still trained on one particular drawing and the way the pen swirled on the page. He licked his lips before speaking up again, not even bothering to tear his eyes away. “All of them are actually, really fucking good.”

He heard you shift forward, Zoe’s bed making that too familiar creak he usually heard from the other side of the wall. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he finally looked up and locked eyes with you. It was obvious you were upset—which was a dumb thought, Connor realized. Of course you were upset. Your best friend just stormed out of the room and down the stairs because you’d been artfully drawing wonderful images of her brother. Pink surrounded the color of your eyes, your waterline more prominent than Connor had ever seen before. It was his turn to study your face, each contour in the dull light of the stupid pink lamp Zoe had gotten when she had turned 13. Your facial features cracked, a smile finally escaping through the blurry clouds that had been drawn up around you. “I mean, I’m not an art critic or anything, but I love them.”

“Oh.” It was a suppression of something, Connor couldn’t tell what—your eyes flicked to the floorboards. “Thank you.”

He nodded before stepping forward, wire bounded notebook being extended out towards you. You took it gently, almost as if the moment would be ruined by sharp, abstract movements. There was a moment of nothing, your eyes meeting his again, before you started going through the drawings just as Connor had. No words were exchanged, they didn’t need to be, as he sat down on the bed next to you, admiring your hard work. He hadn’t gone through all of them, that much was apparent even in the darkness. Your style changed as the dates became more and more present, almost grabbing Connor in a new way that he couldn’t even fathom—when he was in a bad mood, the lines were sharp, almost making him look stuck in an abstract world that consumed him. You had started to include white pencil to highlight the lights of his face and the darks that seemed to surround him at any given point. There was one that Connor had been smiling, the stark contrast of grid to fluid making itself clear. White colored pencil littered that page, giving his cheeks and overall vibe almost a sunshine attitude. He wasn’t even sure how you’d done that, how you’d caught him smiling so long that you actually could draw it out. Your latest date appears, only two days ago before you start to close the book.

There’s a moment of nothing, completely dullness except the yellow that blanketed the room. With another beat, he looks up, a newfound fondness of you completely taking over, heart ablaze like someone had used your sketchbook as kindling for something—anything other than numbness. It’s now that Connor realizes he was leaning into you, getting closer and closer until this very second—faces inches apart and eyes scanning, searching, almost fleeing around memorizing each color of your eyes. The pink is almost gone, and you start to lean forwards, eyes not deciding what they want to look at: his eyes or his lips. The space is closing more and more, the process expedited as Connor begins to mirror your actions, the moonlight outside now seeming like the only thing that’s illuminating in the room. Before proceeding, he pulls away for a second, deciding that maybe he was just misreading cues from you. You could just be trying to get up to find Zoe, soon leaving the house and out of Connor’s life. But he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want this to end, he wants to know the curves of your face, the way you look when everything is geometric and scheduled and when everything is fluid and free, the white pencil contrasted with the black marker, each level of shading on your face. He wanted to know you at your lightest and darkest, when the leaves are lush to the leaves die and make the windows look cracked from the inside. It’s another moment until he finally gets the grip he needs, asking you “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly, hands already snaking around the back of his neck and pulling him closer. He resists for a second, a mumbled “I need a verbal yes or no. Otherwise I worry that I crossed a boundary,” escaping him.

“Yes,” is exhaled from you onto Connor’s lips, giving him full access to everything he didn’t know he needed or fuck wanted until this moment. There’s a level of softness to the moment your lips grazed his, the laziness of the night consuming both of you. Relaxation seeps into the kiss as it deepens, providing a sense of warmth that could only be described as rosy cheeks and whipped cream. It’s here that Connor realizes that his heart had skipped a beat, the pink organ working in tandem with yours, blossoming into something spontaneous and wonderful with you. Connor’s hands glide from where they were to your face, almost capturing the light you’re giving him, an ability to feel like the sun is inside of his hands as the kiss deepens further. Everything is synched—a puzzle finally put together by warm light and soft touches. Something erupts in Connor and he can only hope the same from you, it’s a sense of fluff, a sense of complete and total comfort and security, almost as if someone had come in here and wrapped you and him in a blanket as silent snow fell outside. It was heated, like a warm shower after a night in the rain, but soft, sweet, something fluttering from inside into the outside. It was almost like this was something long awaited, and better than expected; far better than expected.

Footsteps stomped up the stairs, and the air turned cold, a firm reminder that the world could touch them. Connor already knew what it was—Zoe was coming back from making hot chocolate downstairs. The darkness of the room returned, almost blinding to Connor as he attempts to smoothly get out of the room before Zoe sees and gets even more upset. Purples plague the walls, steps coming louder and louder as he practically stumbles out of the room, hoping that his sister wasn’t looking up as she went upstairs. With a sharp glide out of the room and into the complete darkness of the void, Zoe slipped in and began to talk to you about something he couldn’t quite hear.

Shuffling down the hall so he isn’t heard, Connor recounts the events in his head. Maybe that had been a bad idea. Maybe the warmth around you two as you kissed was just something to dwell on but never have. Maybe it was better this way.

Fuck that. He slipped into bed, covering himself with the covers, still imagining your hands around him, circling him with warm light that rivaled sunlight at the end of the first warm day of spring after a harsh winter in the Northeast. He attempted to get that from his blankets, but couldn’t. He craved that moment now that he’d had a taste of it, every contradiction, line break, finally forming into a continuum, an image of your smiling self depicted by the lines that finally painted a beautiful picture of life. He needed everything you offered: the darks, the lights, the curves, the edges. Connor craved it as he rolled over, eyes closing for the night, the last image in his head of you artfully crafting him on the page before smiling at him in that way you always do. His heart skips a beat before falling into a smooth rhythm, breathing following the pattern as the world washed away in the golden light that consumed him.

[beca-mitchell]

remember the day, pt. 5

Summary: Healing is a long and tiresome process.

Also on AO3.

Word count: 3,992

part 1 (intro/prompt) | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12

Beca turns when she hears Chloe’s feet stomping up the stairs.

“Beca,” Helen murmurs, looking at her with sympathy.

She flushes, embarrassed mostly. “I...I’m so sorry,” she says, barely managing to get it out through increasingly heavy tears. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come-”

It’s Nick who rushes to her, seemingly out of nowhere. He engulfs her in a hug, holds her when her sobs increase in intensity. “You should go to her,” he suggests.

She really shouldn’t.

She wants to leave.

She wants to fly back to Los Angeles and forget this happened. The thought that she wants to forget is enough to bring on a fresh onslaught of tears.

“I can’t go to her,” Beca whimpers, pushing at his shoulders. She tries to pull herself together. He has always been the brother she never had and had welcomed her immediately when she first started dating Chloe; the one who she had first told that she wanted to propose.

Now, the engagement ring hangs heavily around her neck like a reminder of what she’s never going to get back. “I’m sorry,” she repeats, swiping at her eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“At least tell her that,” he murmurs, looking down at the ground. “Before you go.”

Beca’s not even sure she can be alone with Chloe in a room again - not after that.

Upstairs, Chloe’s door slams open, then closed once more with a deafening bang.

Beca feels another hand on her shoulder. It’s Chloe’s father. His touch is comforting, even though she still expects him to completely ban her from the house. She understands if he still wants to.

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “There’s…” he trails off. “She loves you,” he says finally. His certainty is inspiring, even as Beca feels every last vestige of hope leave her body. “Go.”

So she does.

While ascending, Beca thinks of a million ways to apologize, all of them ending in some tearful explosion about how much she loves Chloe, but the knowledge that Chloe doesn’t want to even hear that only makes her heart plummet with each step.

Beca thinks her heart drops straight out of her chest when she hears the dull thud from Chloe’s room. She knocks once on Chloe’s door. “Chloe? Are you - are you okay?”

When there’s no response, she slowly turns the knob, heart thudding uncomfortably. “Chloe,” she states. “What-”

She stumbles against the door frame, only barely just catching herself in time.

She’s rushing forward immediately. “Oh my God, Chloe-“ she skids to a stop before dropping to her knees. “Chloe!”

Dread and fear course through her body, as she twists to call for help. She forgets immediately about everything that just happened. She needs to focus on Chloe’s well-being.

Beca tries to steady herself, but her entire body is trembling. She cups Chloe’s cheek, careful not to move her head too much and gently rubs at the uncharacteristically pale skin. She notes that Chloe is still breathing, at least, and a quick assessment indicates that Chloe hasn’t bumped her head too badly.

Regardless, Beca wouldn’t be able to stop the tears even if she tried. “Fuck,” she whimpers.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nick asks, followed closely by his parents. Chloe’s mother lets out a quiet cry. “Do we call 9-1-1?”

“She’s breathing,” Beca says. She places a hand on Chloe’s chest, feeling a steady heartbeat, if not a little fast. “Chloe,” she calls. “Baby, wake up.”

“Chlo, what the fuck?” Beca asks, laughing. She drops her bag by the front door and turns to the face the living room fully. “What is all this?” She gestures at the way the couch cushions have been rearranged on the floor to make a very cozy-looking pillow fort-giant mattress hybrid.

Chloe smiles, and stands up before looping her arms around Beca’s neck to pull her in for a kiss. Beca responds in kind, hands automatically moving to Chloe’s lower back to hold her in place.

“We’re going to stay in tonight and have a Netflix binge-a-thon,” Chloe mumbles, kissing the corner of Beca’s mouth. She grins a little at the Beca’s now-smudged lipstick, thumbing the soft pink away.

“Why?” Beca asks, curious (and slightly afraid she missed some kind of anniversary). “What are we celebrating?” she asks quickly, eyes flicking to the unopened bottle of champagne by the displaced coffee table.

“Well, I’m celebrating how in love with you I am and how excited I am to marry you.” Chloe’s smile hasn’t quite left her face since Beca walked in. “Consider this my unofficial proposal. I still need to get you a ring.”

“We’re already engaged,” Beca points out, allowing Chloe to drag her further into the room. “You don’t need to do that.”

Chloe rolls her eyes, throwing herself contentedly onto the pile of pillows. Beca follows, though less gracefully and very nearly beans Chloe in the face with her elbow.

“Well, I already had something in mind for you. You just beat me to the punch. Besides, how fair is it that you got me this beautiful ring and you don’t get to wear something that reminds you of me everyday?” she teases, attempting to push Beca’s cardigan off her shoulders.

“Yes, how else will I remember that I’m engaged to a pillow-fort-making genius?” She leans in, gently nudging Chloe back against the pillows. “I love you, Chloe,” she murmurs, cupping her fiancee’s cheek before kissing her slowly. She says Chloe’s name with reverence and all the love she can muster.

Beca thinks this is one of her favourite memories.

Drowning.

Or dreaming.

Chloe’s not sure these days.

Everything feels muffled and heavy, like she’s trying to rise up against a grain of heavy air.

When Chloe resurfaces – the side of her head is throbbing in what she can only describe as “a non-migraine way” and her side is a little pained as well.

She becomes aware of another thing: the soft murmur of voices, though the voices themselves are anything but soft; rather, they sound anxious and flutter above her, just out of her reach.

Slowly – so slowly – she comes to, recognizing the sound of her parents whispering and-

Beca.

Chloe thinks she still hears Beca’s crying, but Beca had been downstairs, crying and- and her parents had been downstairs.

“-been like two minutes. I’m going to call the hospital right now.”

“I think she’s coming to, Beca,” Nick’s voice says, somewhere above her.

“Chloe?”

The reverence with which Beca says her name reminds Chloe of how she had said it the first time she had woken up in the hospital. She remembers that, to say the least.

Or, for some reason, Chloe thinks that she has a memory - or a dream, she no longer knows - of Beca kissing her in the middle of their living room. Everything looks misshapen in her mind’s eye. Untouchable, even as she tries to clear the foggy glass.

It feels like a memory, nonetheless.

Chloe wants to share her memory with Beca, but the dull throbbing has already begun to spread to the rest of her body.

Gentle hands cup her cheeks. She immediately knows it’s Beca.

Faintly, a voice in her mind asks, how could you not know?

“Help,” she croaks, when opening her eyes proves difficult.

“Chlo,” Beca murmurs, hands gently holding her shoulders. “Open your eyes.”

Like waking up from a dream, Chloe slowly does as Beca has instructed, following the sound of her voice like instinct. The fading remnants of anger slowly ebb away, but not before pulsing through her with a final push; the push manifests in physically pushing at Beca’s hands to get them away from her.

Chloe blinks, suddenly looking up at her room ceiling. She’s lying prone on the floor.

“What happened?” she murmurs, attempting to sit up.

Beca is watching her carefully, but keeps her hands to herself. “You…you fainted.” Beca looks nauseous, herself.

“Should we call the doctor?” Nick asks, looking at their parents.

“Chloe, honey, please just tell us what happened. This isn’t normal.”

“It’s nothing,” Chloe mutters. “I’m just tired.”

“Chloe,” her father says in a warning tone. “Don’t lie to us.”

“It’s these fucking headaches,” she snaps, finally pushing herself to her feet. She tries not to let it show on her face how unsteady she feels. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’re not the ones with a fucking hole in your brain.”

“You don’t have a hole in your brain,” Nick points out unhelpfully. “Not physically.”

“We’re taking you to Doctor Lin tomorrow morning.”

“I am an adult,” Chloe says. “Why can’t I make these decisions myself?” She recalls that the engagement album is still on the floor. Without glancing at it, she quickly picks it up and shoves it into her drawer. “I just want to sleep, okay?” The action itself sends another wave of nausea through her body. “I’m going to sleep.”

Beca’s eyes follow her movement, but she doesn’t say anything. Her hand comes up unconsciously to touch the metal chain around her neck.

Chloe falls asleep to the thudding of her own heartbeat and the memory of Beca’s tears.

Chloe sleeps restlessly.

Almost twenty-four hours later, Chloe is settling down for the evening when Beca knocks at her hospital door. She had spent nearly the entire day running tests and restating the events leading up to her blackout to Doctor Lin and another specialist.

They can’t quite pinpoint the cause, but Chloe figures there really isn’t any further explanation for heartbreaking memory loss.

She’s exhausted on every level: mentally, emotionally, and physically. Maybe even spiritually because she feels like she has no faith left to lean on.

Even if she had been so angry the previous day, a large part of that hadn’t necessarily been anger at Beca. Beca is trying. She can’t fault Beca for remembering when she can’t remember anything herself.

She gestures at Beca to enter. She’s so tired.

“I’m going to go home,” Beca says quietly once she’s in the room. She doesn’t make a move to stand closer to the hospital bed even though every cell in her body screams at her to do so. Chloe looks small and vulnerable in that bed. All it does is remind Beca that she has seen this exact scenario before.

Chloe barely manages to process that, but when she does, the stab of pain it sends through her only makes her squeeze her eyes shut. “Okay,” she responds. She’s not going to tell Beca to stay, not if she doesn’t want to.

She’s sick of hospitals and tests. She’s sick of prescriptions. There’s nothing wrong with headaches.

But she recognizes that her mind is in disarray.

She’s sure some of that is literal, but mostly it’s figurative.

She grasps at the fleeting sense that she’s missing something, but she doesn’t know what – though perhaps it’s obvious. She’s missing herself – crucial parts that she needs to make her whole again.

“You never told me how bad your headaches were,” Beca says after a moment’s hesitation. “I mean…I guess you wouldn’t have told me, but why wouldn’t you tell your parents or your brother?”

Chloe doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know anything.

She wants to leave this hospital.

“I thought I could handle them,” she says, finally. “Something that I didn’t have to share with every single fucking person. They’re just headaches.”

Beca tightens her grip on the strap of her bag, taking a tentative step closer. “Right, so you just let them build up until you blacked out.” She grimaces. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, feeling worse.

“It’s okay,” Chloe says faintly. “Are you going to go now?” She doesn’t mean for it to come out harsh, but she can’t even muster up strength to say it any other way or sugarcoat it.

It’s akin to Chloe telling her to leave; telling her to go away.

Beca doesn’t know if Chloe knows how much that hurt; how badly Beca wishes she could just go and never look back.

Instead, all Beca feels is pain because she knows that she’s never going to fully turn away from Chloe. It’s just not part of who she is, at least, not in recent years. Not since she realized that Chloe would never turn away from her all those years ago.

“Yeah. I’m going to take a drive up to Seattle, then fly back to L.A.”

“To see your mom,” Chloe mumbles absently.

Beca freezes. Her brain thrums with excitement she hasn’t felt in a while. “How did you know that?”

Chloe blinks, tired. “How did I know what?”

“T-that my...that my mother lives in Seattle.”

Chloe frowns, confused. Why wouldn’t I know that?

“Chloe,” Beca whispers, jolting her out of her reverie.

There are about ten different emotions that cycle through Beca’s face - hope, love, excitement, and finally cautious optimism.

Chloe blinks, realization settling in. “You didn’t...tell me that?”

She tries to kick her brain into gear. She doesn’t really think anybody mentioned that to her recently either.

“Not that I can recall,” Beca responds, taking another step further into the room. It wouldn’t have come up in conversation. She mentioned her father had been a professor at Barden once in an attempt to jog Chloe’s memory, but Chloe hadn’t taken Comparative Literature.

She’s grateful that Chloe’s parents have given them some privacy because she’s not sure she can handle crying in front of them again. Suddenly, the previous day’s events don’t seem so important.

“Oh,” Chloe says, feeling more awake. She winces, sitting up in bed and trying to wrack her brain. It had slipped so suddenly into her mind, like remembering how to ride a bike. She sifts through every possible thought she has, trying to find more hidden gems hiding beneath the surface. When nothing comes up, she feels frustrated, though she holds on to that moment as a beacon of hope, finally seeing a light at the end of a very long tunnel.

It’s there.

“Should I get a doctor?” Beca asks, already reaching for the call button.

“No,” Chloe says, reaching out to stop Beca. She places her hand on Beca’s, stopping her in her tracks. “Just...stay here for a moment, okay?”

Beca tries not to let hope swallow her whole. She’ll struggle to stay afloat longer, so long as she gets to spend a moment with Chloe.

When Beca draws up a chair and sits quietly by Chloe’s side, Chloe takes a moment to really look at Beca.

On the surface, Beca is a beautiful woman. Chloe likes the shade of Beca’s eyes, the curve of her nose, and - and Beca’s smile, even if Beca doesn’t look particularly happy at the moment.

Just beneath the surface, Chloe knows how much Beca loves her.

Her passion, her loyalty, her love -

Chloe recalls thinking that it would be so easy to fall in love with Beca Mitchell. She wonders, with curiosity more than anger, if she had felt this way when she met Beca for the first time.

They’ve come so far.

Yesterday’s fight had been so tiring and so draining.

Chloe wishes she had a better grasp on her own insecurities. Beca wishes the same for her own insecurities.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says just as Beca thinks the silence might kill her. “For yesterday.”

“I should be the one apologizing,” Beca says immediately. She frowns. “Did I not apologize?” When Chloe just glances at her with an amused expression, she shakes her head. “I...am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come back with me - especially when you’re not ready. You deserve to do things however you want because it’s your life.” Beca looks like she could cry again. “I genuinely want the best for you, Chlo.”

“I know,” Chloe says. And she does. Beca has only ever proven that she has Chloe’s best interests in mind; it just happens that some of Chloe’s best interests involve Beca’s presence in her life.

When Beca says nothing else, Chloe takes the chance.

Chloe lets her hand glide slowly towards Beca’s hand, resting on the edge of her bed. "If we're meant to be together, things will work out, won’t they?" It’s what they should have talked about instead of screaming at each other. She slides her palm into Beca’s.

Well, Chloe had screamed. Beca had cried. She feels terrible about it, reflecting on it now.

Beca closes her eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of Chloe’s hand in hers. "That's what I'm afraid of. What if it doesn't?" Her life as of now is a refrain of what if? what if? what if?

"If you and I are meant for each other, it doesn't mean we have to be together right now.”

It’s not necessarily negative, but, “what...are you saying?”

“Please be patient with me,” Chloe begs quietly.

Beca swallows. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

She musters up the strength. “We have all the time in the world,” she states, echoing something Chloe once told her.

“I...I was upset yesterday when I thought about how I was engaged to you and I couldn’t even remember it.”

Beca nods at her to continue.

“I … I realized that I can’t even remember what my ring looked like before I gave it back to you. I just...it was driving me crazy when I was standing in my room. I don’t know,” she mutters. “I’ve been so scared to look at that album because I didn’t want to...I didn’t want to be disappointed if I saw how happy we were.”

“I hid the album we have in our home when you first came home from the hospital. You were getting upset at seeing photos of us together.”

That would explain why Chloe never saw it in L.A..

“I kind of wanted to look at it while you were here,” Chloe admits. “But I guess we never found the time.”

It’s the most she’s spoken to Beca about her memory loss and how it has affected their relationship.

Beca doesn’t say anything to that, but Chloe sees the hint of tears in her eyes. Instead, Beca carefully lifts the necklace from her neck, holding up the chain that holds Chloe’s engagement ring. It glints in the light.

“Oh,” Chloe says, like she’s seeing it for the first time. She supposes really seeing something and barely glancing at it are two different things. She had given it back to Beca hastily, too afraid of the implications.

The ring is beautiful, and Chloe can see an engraving on the band, but she can’t quite make it out. “It’s...there,” she states. 

“What did you think I did with it?” Beca asks, going for levity. “I paid a lot for this.” 

Chloe smiles, her tiredness finally reaching her eyes. The excitement from a potential returned memory ebbs away. “You’re such a nerd,” she mumbles in an affectionate tone.

Beca just allows that to wash over her. She ignores the memory that rises to the surface, content to just be in this specific present moment. 

Chloe is slowly falling asleep.

“I’m not going to text him, you know,” Chloe mumbles, as she’s on the verge of completely dozing off. Beca’s thumb stops stroking her hand.

“Okay,” Beca says, quieter than before.

Chloe wants to say something more, but her eyelids are heavy. Her body feels like it’s sinking back into the cot slowly and surely. 

Watching Chloe fall asleep, Beca thinks that she doesn’t need to say anything more. She takes off the chain holding Chloe’s engagement ring close to her chest and gently wraps it up in Chloe’s hand before closing her fist.

Tell me you love me, she thinks. “Something to remember me by,” she says aloud. She’s not sure Chloe hears that.

She doesn’t say goodbye. This time she walks away, but only because she knows that she has something to come back to.

"What's wrong, Beca?" Helen asks, squinting at the screen that separates Beca from Chloe’s parents. “Is it Chloe?”

“She’s moving home,” Beca says numbly. She hasn’t felt much since Chloe told her as much.

“We know,” Helen says confusedly, glancing at Richard. Chloe’s father looks equally concerned and confused.

“I…” Beca rubs at her face. “Is this a good idea?” she asks. “Her entire life is here,” she says, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. 

“Beca, we didn’t...convince Chloe to move home, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Helen says gently. “You know that we love you and we think you and Chloe are so well-suited for each other.” 

There is nothing unkind about that, but Beca still feels like a child who has just been reprimanded.

"I don't know how to..." she trails off, watching their faces on her laptop screen. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, her confidence wavering.

Their eyes remain on her, focused and concerned. 

“I want...I want her to stay with me,” she says quietly.

And she does. She knows that Chloe’s tenacity and general appreciation for education and knowledge can help her get back on her feet, even if it’s only part-time work while she slowly works through the missing blocks of knowledge.

And still, silence rings around them. Beca can hear a crackle through her headphones.

Beca notes that their gazes are rife with sympathy and love, which made her feel marginally better; they were looking out for her as much as they were looking for Chloe. They had to understand how much Beca wanted to make this work, how much Beca works towards a future for both and Chloe, because life without Chloe is-

"Believe me when I say that we did suggest Chloe would be better off staying with you in your home. You’re right; her things are all there. Her job. Her friends. It’s the best thing for her memories and it’s supposedly the most direct path to her life and definitely her life with you."

Beca doesn’t say anything, waiting for the last blow. She runs through a million scenarios in her mind.

"I'm sorry, Beca,” Helen says, taking over from her husband. “We think that forcing Chloe to live with you wouldn’t be the best idea either."

Beca understands their instinct to take Chloe’s well-being above all else, but she selfishly wants to be the one to take care of Chloe and make sure that everything works out. She almost wants to scream and remind them that they had given her their blessing when she asked them if she could propose to their daughter; they were supposed to be married.

“She’ll call you, you know that, right? She’ll reach out to you when she’s ready.” Richard’s smile is kind and loving. “You can visit us, okay? I’m sure Chloe will like that. You are always welcome; you’re family.”

Beca wants to believe. She figures she doesn’t have much choice. “Okay,” she says quietly. 

She ends the call. She never stood a chance.

One week later, Chloe hasn’t remembered anything new. One week after Beca has already left Portland, Chloe finds solace in the engagement ring that once terrified her.

“Why can’t I just remember?” She resists the urge to hit herself on the head. The urge that continues to grow with each passing day. She wants to kickstart her fucking useless brain into remembering or something.

Anything.

She’s on a phone call with Aubrey, of all people. Aubrey, who is steadfast in her support of both Beca and Chloe in this nightmarish situation. Aubrey is also somebody on whom she can also use the phrase "remember when..." and not want to completely break down into frustrated tears.

“Why couldn’t Beca just forget?” she whispers, the words leaving her lips and immediately making her sick. She touches the chain of her necklace, taking solace in its weight. She absentmindedly traces the engraving on the ring.

To look at you is to remember love.

“I don’t know,” Aubrey replies thickly, sounding like she’s on the verge of tears herself. Chloe immediately feels bad for putting her best friend through this, but Aubrey is the only person she trusts who knows both her and Beca; Aubrey is the only person she trusts at this point to be rational. “I don’t know,” Aubrey repeats. “But that’s…” She trails off.

“I didn’t mean that,” Chloe mutters, already feeling bad.

“You will make it through this. Both of you.” Aubrey sighs heavily. “Whether you manage to do it together or not is less important. You will make it.”

“But when,” Chloe pushes.

“You know I can’t answer that for you.”

Much later, Chloe stares blankly at the wall, wondering which parts of herself she can live with and which ones she can live without.

She just wants to live, again.

tbc // fic tag

[xukunstellation]

Big Bro || Lin Yanjun

Title: Big Bro Pairing: Reader x Yanjun Genre: OlderBrother!AU + slice of life) Word Count: 1483 words Summary: You and your older brother may not always get along, but you know that he’ll always have your back. Warning: mentions of cheating

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written a sibling au, so this is exciting! I would love to have Yanjun as an older brother tbh. Happy reading!

oof can you imagine yanjun as your older brother tho

i can only imagine he’d be two things

a blessing

and a headache lmao

onward to the fic

you and yanjun shared the typical sibling relationship 

which means constant fighting and teasing from both parties

the two of you can’t go a day without being at each other’s neck tbh

1 like = 1 prayer for your poor parents who have to go through their kids bs everyday

normal occurrences usually go like this

“yanjun don’t eat the food that’s in the fridge”

“oh, you mean the three slices of pizza on the top shelf? too late lmao”

“lin yanjun istg i will eND YOU”

or

“yo bro i need $20″

“get lost, loser. why would i give you my hard earned money?”

“oh, ig that’s fine. in that case, you wouldn’t mind if i told mom about how it was you who knocked over her favorite vase but blamed it on the cat instead, right?”

“...”

“slide in an extra $10 and i also wont tell her that it ocurred the same night you snuck out to zhangjing’s party”

“i hate you”

also let’s not forget 

“LIN YANJUN GTFO OF THE SHOWER! IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS AND I HAVE TO PEE”

ofc things weren’t always so bad

usually when hell freezes over

for example

yanjun and you had this sort of ritual where he drives you both to the nearest fast food place at two in the morning once a week

it was your way of bonding with each other and what better way to bond than over food?

yanjun was also your own personal chauffeur and drove you around his fancy motorcycle whenever you needed to get places

this idiot named his motorcycle angle angel 

in return, you often helped sneak him into the house whenever he was out longer than he was supposed to

you joked that he was going through his rebellious phase

except that it occurred 24/7 365 days a year

one time he tried to climb in through your bedroom window at 4 in the morning

you almost dialed 911 on him bc you thought he was an intruder

ffs yanjun wyd

in short, you both had your moments where you actually got along for once

unfortunately, this was not one of those times

you angrily stormed into your older brother’s room, slamming his door open as it hit the wall with a loud bang

“what the hell is your problem? can’t you knock?” yanjun glared, removing his headphones off his head

“cough it up,” you demanded, holding out your hand impatiently

“what are you even talking about?”

“my watch! the expensive silver one that dad gave me for my birthday”

“look (y/n), sorry to burst your bubble but i don’t have your watch”

you raised your voice in anger, “stop lying! i know you stole it from me after i saw you eyeing it the other day”

annoyed with the accusation, yanjun’s glare intensified and his voice yelled back even louder, “i didn’t steal anything, idiot! maybe if you learn to be more responsible, you’ll stop losing things!”

you groaned in frustration, flipping him the finger and stomping out of his room. you didn’t have time for this.

after the fight, you were running late for your date with your partner who you’ve been seeing recently

when you arrived at the restaurant, you were shocked to see your partner in the arms of another person. you watched as the two of them exchange kisses with their arms wrapped around each other

*insert ‘oh hell no’ vine here*

you marched your way over to them, picked up a glass of water and splashed it all over your partner’s face

they were obviously a v thirsty mofo

the entire restaurant went silent bc oh shiiiiiit

somebody call worldstarhiphop 

“you cheater! you make me absolutely sick. we’re over. i deserve a lot better than your sorry ass” you scowled

yaaaas you go king/queen

the entire restaurant literally broke out into applause and whistles for you

wow where can i get that kind of support

even with the cheers, you were understandably still really pissed

huffing, you walked over to the nearest bus station down the street

you cursed when you realized you had just missed your bus back home and the next one wouldn’t be for another hour

rummaging in your bag for your phone, your fingers grazed against something cool

pulling it out, you realized it was your silver watch that you had accused yanjun of stealing earlier that day

a wave of guilt washed over you

not only did you get cheated on but you felt like the world’s shittiest little sibling ever

scrolling through the contacts on your phone, your thumb hovered over yanjun’s contact name

you debated whether or not you should call him to give you a ride. both of your parents were at work and you knew he was still most likely at home at this time

but would he even pick up your call?

after a few seconds of hesitance, you settled for texting him instead

you: they cheated on me. please take me home.

honestly you didn’t expect him to text you back since he usually needed time to cool down after fighting. you mentally prepared your self for the long walk home.

to your surprise, yanjun immediately texted you back

the adopted sibling 🙄 : stay where you are. i’m coming to get you.

after texting him the details of your location, it didn’t take long for him to show up on his noble steed motorcycle. offering you a small smirk, you returning it with a small smile. he tossed you the spare helmet and you strapped it on before hopping on behind him

the two of your drove in silence but not necessarily an awkward silence. it was more so yanjun not wanting to force you to say anything until you were ready. you were also trying to wrap your mind around how hectic this day was.

“yanjun? are you still mad at me?” you asked when he stopped at a red light

“mad at you? nah. i’m over it. your ex? i’m going to kill them” he replied

you smacked his shoulder, rolling your eyes with a snort as he pretended to wince in pain “if you end up in jail, can i keep all of your things?”

“wow i go through the lengths of getting revenge on your ex for you and all you care about is keeping my things? i’m no star student but i’m pretty sure that’s not how it works”

you grinned, “in my world it does”

once he started driving again, you started to notice you both were going in the wrong direction

“hey, i know i’m not the best at directions but i’m pretty sure we just missed the turn to our house”

“that’s bc we aren’t going home. we’re gonna go to our favorite diner so you can eat your weight in food”

“i do not-- ok you know what, you got me there”

“thought so”

being the awesome older brother he was, he let you order whatever you wanted on the menu and even paid for it all. he saw you were still a little down, so he even tried to make you laugh by telling you more of his lame jokes

which honestly made you want to cry more than your break up bc his jokes were so bad

when will he ever learn tbh

“i’m sorry for accusing you of stealing my watch earlier today. you’re right, i should be more responsible with my things,” you apologized sheepishly, poking at your ice cream sundae

“don’t worry about it, kid, it happens. you’re definitely more responsible than i am. that’s for sure,” he chuckled, leaning forward to steal a scoop of your sundae

“woah buddy, hands off! you have your own!”

“yours looks better than mine!”

“we literally have the same order!”

and so you both went back to being the bickering pair of siblings we all know and love

the next time you saw your ex, you saw them freaking out from their car being towed away

was your eyes deceiving you or did you see slashed tires?

when you went to question yanjun about it, he acted as if he had no idea what you were talking about

“bro, what did you do to my ex’s car?”

“nothing you can prove”

yes you’re big brother was hella annoying

and yes he did drive you absolutely nuts

but you knew that at the end of the day

you knew that you both loved each other

you would always be there for him

and yanjun would always be there for you

fin

i dont have any brothers irl

but if i did

i wouldn’t mind him being yanjun tbh

[nothingwithoutwannaone]

11 - Park Woo Jin

In which Woo Jin’s interrupted study session leads to something more.

“I’ll protect you by your side

I’ll hug you from behind you

for you who became so weak

I’ll give you everything

come closer

how many are there these days

guys who would give everything for you

today too, I

work hard, work hard, work hard

work hard, work hard, work hard.” - 11 (Wanna One, No.1)

In celebration for Wanna One’s 1st Debut Anniversary, @ongsung an I have decided to release a series of oneshots daily, starting from today July 27th and ending on August 6th (August 7th in KST, and thus Wanna One’s anniversary).

I’ve chosen to write based on a selection of Wanna One songs, and she’ll be writing based on the individual teasers that were released for Energetic/Burn It Up. We will link each other’s stories below, so feel free to read hers after this one. See you tomorrow in our next installments :)

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Immediately after, the students bowed to their teacher before packing up to leave school. Some would go home, some to sports practice, and others to study at the library. The library was exactly where Woo Jin was heading now.

Although he wasn’t the best student, Woo Jin was still quite smart in his class, and ranked pretty high in his grade. Although classes could be boring sometimes, Woo Jin still found interest in the subjects he was learning, and tried his best to do well in school. Many of his friends told him that if he really tried, he could be ranked 1, but Woo Jin waved it way, saying it wasn’t worth the effort if he didn’t enjoy it.

As he walked through the library entrance, he greeted the librarian and waved to a few people he knew before finding a spot at one of the tables. He saw a girl who was sitting a few seats down but didn’t pay too much attention. That is, not until about half an hour later when she dropped her head onto the table with a loud bang. 

The sound broke his concentration and he looked over to see if she was okay. After waiting for several minutes and seeing she hadn’t lifted her head, he slowly slid his chair out and approached her. Reaching out hesitantly, he paused a bit before tapping her on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me, but are you okay?”

Her head shot up from the contact an she turned around to meet his eyes in surprise.

“I’m sorry?”

He smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

“You’re Y/N, from classroom 2 right? I’m Woo Jin from class 3 but I...just saw you earlier and thought you might need some help?”

Woo Jin had never met her before, but apparently they both had some mutual friends. Despite this, they never were formally introduced.

“Oh...about that,” she said before turning back to the papers and the open textbook in front of her. After a few seconds, she groaned and visibly slumped. Woo Jin quickly took a seat beside her and tired to console her.

“Hey, hey. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay! I’m sure you can solve this,” he said before he looked at the papers in front of her. It was Korean language, which happened to be one of the subjects Woo Jin excelled in.

“That’s what I thought too, but this assignment is too difficult! How am I supposed to do this assignment when I don’t understand anything?”

“It’s not that bad! Here, let’s start at the beginning and we can work our way through...”

And so Woo Jin spent the rest of the time helping the Y/N study. If she didn’t get it the first time, he would explain it again in another way until she understood it. Both of them stayed there until the library closed, and by that time, Y/N had learned more in one sitting with Woo Jin than she ever did during the entire class.

“Wow, Woo Jin, you’re amazing! I don’t know how you’re able to explain everything so clearly, and make it seem so easy! Why doesn’t the teacher do this?”

Woo Jin blushed at the compliment and shrugged his shoulders.

“Who knows, but I’m glad I was able to help you.”

She looked over to the other side where he had originally been sitting and gasped.

“Oh my gosh, did I keep you from doing your work? I’m so sorry!”

She looked so guilty and worried, but Woo Jin shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t have anything due tomorrow; I was just reviewing some things but I can do that tonight.”

“Are you sure? I feel so bad for taking up all your time....”

“Really, it’s okay,” he insisted with a smile.

“Regardless, thank you so much, Woo Jin! There aren’t many people who would willingly give up their own time to help me. You’re one of a kind,” she said with a bright smile. 

Seeing that, Woo Jin suddenly felt his heart race. 

“I...I didn’t do all that much. It was really difficult for me at first too, but I worked really hard to learn and understand everything.”

“Well, clearly it paid off....and I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you think we could do this again sometime? I know you have your own classes but...”

“Yes!” Woo Jin said almost a little too quickly. If Y/N was surprised she didn’t show it, and only beamed in response.

“I mean, yes I don’t mind. I think it would be good to have someone else to study well; most of my friends don’t like it here,” Woo Jin added to save from his social blunder.

“Great! I feel like I’m learning so much better now that I’ve met you. You’re like my safety net from now on!”

And as they walked out of the library together, Woo Jin couldn’t help but think he’d be looking forward to going to the library more now, especially if he was going to be with Y/N.

A/N: Lyric translation credited to sleeplessaliana

nothingwithoutwannaone: Min Hyun I Ji Hoon I Jae Hwan I Guan Lin I Dae Hwi I Jin Young I Ji Sung I Woo Jin I Seong Wu I Sung Woon I Daniel

ongsung:  Min Hyun I Ji Hoon I Jae Hwan I Guan Lin I Dae Hwi I Jin Young I Ji Sung I Woo Jin I Seong Wu I Sung Woon I Daniel

Master List

[defsoulaioa]

My Dream Knight, Part 3

Preview:

“What do you think you’re doing? Where’s my device.” Jaebum demanded for an answer with no further questions from her.

“I’m not here to give it back. I’m here to expose.” She says boldly drawing her face closer to his before leaning back and resting. “But before I do, there’s a way to stop me. 

She’s teasing him enjoying the moment she has with him under her control. I watched as Jaebum stands there for a moment considering her thoughts. “Go ahead expose.

Part 1 Part 2 

┊ ┊ ┊   ┊┊ ┊   ┊ ┊

┊ ┊ ┊   ┊✦ ` ੈ˚｡┊`✫.

┊ ┊`✫. ┊     .`˚    ┊

┊⊹☪ ⋆.    ┊. ˚.      ⊹☪

┊˚           ˚✩ˊ

✧ ˎˊ｡

So yes, I was hallucinating and fell flat on the bathroom floor. Dirty much? I couldn’t help it. The next morning, I had woken up with loud banging of pots and pans. Sieun was hovered over me with a mint leaf and an innocent giggle. “She’s awake guys. No need to make a call.”

“That’s right,” I groaned turning to my side after shoving her off. “Don’t make a call, please. If my parents found out, I’ll be dead.”

Hwanseol walks up and hands me a cup of warm water. “That’s the fourth time this month. I won’t even complain about you not cooking anymore... but you’re not cooking anymore!” She complains about my sickness, and I shot her a glare. “We miss your food, that too, but everyone is taking part of your job-- and it’s not good.” Hwanseol leans in to give me sympathy before whispering about the bad cooking.

Slowly getting up, I reached for the water before apologizing. “I know, and I’m sorry.” I took a sip of the warm water and gave it back before heading to my room to change.

We all walked over to the entertainment building and had to check in for the morning and practice our vocal lessons for the hour. Ms. Park walks on over to me and placed a hand on my forehead. “You don’t look too good. Should we take you for a check up?” I shook my head and insisted that I was fine. She looks at me for a moment and nods, “If you feel worse within the next hour, you’re going to need a check up.” I nodded assuring her that I understood.

“Can I take a break?” I asked. Ms. Park glances at my situation and with sympathy she nods. “Be quick.”

I quickly ran towards the door with all the strength that I had and opened it to leave. As I closed the door quietly and swiftly, I had turned to bump into Dowoon. “Rainie?”

“I’m sorry,” I quickly apologized and ran towards the bathroom without much saying. As soon as I got inside, my throat hurled and I had vomited all the water I had left in my system. The feeling was icky and the smell reeked of nothing but bad breath. I spent at least five minutes cleaning the smell before washing my hands and walking out.

“Are you okay?” Dowoon immediately straightens himself as soon as he sees me walk out the door with a faint pale face. “You’re still here?” I asked wiping my mouth. He stuttered, “Ye-yeah. I mean, I heard you… in there.” He pointed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to sit and listen.” He added again to his defense when I frowned a bit.

Trying to let out a soft chuckle, I shook my head. “It was nothing.” I lied as sweat began to form and drip down my hairline. He looks at me unsure, “Are you sure? Your pale face says otherwise.” I still nodded and assured him before excusing myself that I was busy. I didn’t want to get caught horsing around, nor do I want to be caught up with him. He’s planning to debut soon, I just don’t think being close with him is a great idea with all the contracts floating around. I’d be put in great trouble.

Dowoon looks at me for a moment before sighing at my condition. “Hey, just so you know, you’re not alone. All new trainees suffer like this the first year. Most of them fail to keep up and drop out. Some of them withheld it and continue. Very little make it to the point of debuting.”

I tried to put on a smile. “Thanks for the tip.”

《▪▪▪》

“Isn’t the answer to problem number 6 is 4?” Sieun hands over her notebook to me and I glance at it. I yawned,“I guess? I didn’t do it yet.” We were walking back to the entertainment after the long day of school at Apgujeong.

���It’s 7.” Hwanseol points out Sieun’s mistake and lets out a laugh.

As soon as we walked inside the entertainment, Ms. Kim calls my name as if she had been waiting. “Rainie Lin.”

“Yes?”

“Come with me to floor 3.” She ordered and hands her clipboard to the front desk. I followed quietly with a fast pace trying to catch up to her although I had no energy left in me. “Have you been well?” She asks looking behind her shoulder. “Y-yes.” I replied lowering my head.

We take the elevator upstairs and silence covered the small space. It dings and the doors open. Before us stood all of the DAY6 members that were to debut. They paved the way for us, and Ms. Kim sends a glare at Dowoon who quickly lowered his head out of respect. He bit his lip before slowly walking into the elevator with the other boys. I didn’t think much of afterwards as we walked past all the meeting rooms and production rooms to the very back of the floor. “I’ve heard some complaints about your well-being. I wanted to make sure you’re alright, please wait here. The infirmary doctor will be here soon.”

“Hwanseol.” I muttered with disappointment and bit my lip. “No, not the girls. I’m sure they’re great for hiding your sickness, but you must report to us or the doctors if you’re not feeling well.”

Not the girls?

I lowered my head, “Noted.” Ms. Kim sighs and folded her arms, “I know I’m probably speaking out of terms, but as a warning and to keep you out of trouble-- and to remind you again-- I hope you do know not to mess with the upper hands of this entertainment.”

I gulped and nodded.

“For the sake of theirs and yours. So lay low and try not to distract too much attention. It will not do you good to be caught up in a scandal and it will not do them good. Understood?” She asks fixing her hair as she turns to look at herself in the mirror. “Yes, I understand.” “Good. Mr. Jeong will be here to check you up in a minute. Meet us in the basement when you’re done. -Oh, and also, the next warning may not be so kind.” Ms. Kim finishes and leaves the room closing the door.

I stood there with my head lowered until I heard the elevator door closed. I had not guts to look at her in the face being the frightened person I am of her. Exhaling with a big relief, I sat down on the bed. Who in the world told her about my sickness?

“Rainie Lin?” He asks looking at my profile after walking in. He inhaled deeply and set my profile aside. “I’m going to be asking you a few questions and I just want an answer, for now. If I find anything wrong, I will further my testing.”

“Okay.”

He clasped his hands together and place them in front of his belly. “Have you ever had headaches the past couple weeks?” I nodded.

Mr. Jeong fixes his glasses and sniffs a little. “Diarrhea?” I nodded again. “Yes.” “And fatigue?” He fixes his glasses and sniffs before noting everything down on my profile clipped on his clipboard. I nodded.

He glances back at me and examines the written words on his notepad. “Your body’s metabolism is slowing. This can also cause food cravings and overeating leading to excess fat. I suggest you to be careful with your surroundings, especially with dumbbells. By the looks of it, you’re very fragile at the moment, so don’t go lifting heavy things.”

Dr. Jeong sets his notepad down. “I won’t run any tests. I will prescribe you some medicine and vitamin, but those won’t be received until later on the month. When they’re ready, you’ll pick them up here. I do also suggest to start gaining more and discard the diet for a couple of days before slowing hopping back in.”

“Okay.” He ripped out his piece of notepad and hand me the prescribed the medicine and vitamins before heading out.

I stuffed the note in my back pocket and fixed my school outfit before heading out.

“So as out last meeting had ended, we’ve agreed to show the more innocent and cheerful side of GOT7 in being supportive… in a way.”

Hm? A familiar voice spoke from one of the rooms I had passed by drawing my attention. I peeped inside through the door crack and listened. The GOT7 members and Park Jinyoung sat around in a circle with some of the entertainment’s producers and managers. Some were flipping through pages of what seemed like the plans for their next album.

“I’ve composed the song lyrics that could possibly be the next title track. We also have three other tracks for the mini album planned.” Jinyoung pulls out three other packets of song lyrics from his folders. He shows the members the meaning behind the songs and it’s flow with the album.

“I also think that we may need to add two more tracks into the next album. Having four total tracks is just not enough and too little for promotion.” Jinyoung adds before writing something down on the whiteboard. “Jam Factory and Sam People are willing to write songs for this album and help compose, but this will need a little bit of collaboration. For this, I will have JB work with Jam Factory. I think the both of you have the same feel about this album and have compatibility in making music.” He writes down JB’s name onto the board before continuing. “I want Mark and Jackson to collab with Sam People for the other song in rap making as well. I think you two are ready to start the creative flow.”

A brush of hands swept my hair, and I immediately turn to look at who caught me with a screech of his name. “Dowoon!” “Shh!” He quickly places a finger on his lips and tells me to keep quiet.

“What are you doing?” He asks. Acting innocent, I stand up and brushed myself. “Nothing, I just happened to drop by.” I lied clearing my throat.

He looks at me and frowns, “I thought you were here for a check up?” “I already did- hey, how did you know- you didn’t have to complain about my health!” My voice raises as I point a finger at him.

There was a sudden silence inside the room and I squat back down to hide. “Is there something?” Park Jinyoung looks over to Dowoon at the doorway as Dowoon widened his eyes. He froze in position and stuttered, “Ah, so-sorry for interrupting. I dropped my handkerchief behind and came looking for it.”

I saw his eyes widen and point to where it was. “I left it here.” Dowoon pushed open the door and left me uncovered as he walked over to grab it.

Mark’s eyes instantly met mine and his eyes widened drastically. He tried withholding his laughter and looked away as if he hadn’t seen me. Jackson who was sitting next to him instantly looked over to me after catching Mark’s reddening face and immediately his eyes popped out. “Uhhhhhhhh.”

Junior looked on over at me and nearly hissed before nudging his head for me to run out of here. But being the nervous person I am at the moment, I shook my head and huddled tightly on the floor. When he notices that I wasn’t moving, he quickly nudges Jackson. “Ahem, Jackson, focus.” Jackson finally was able to close his mouth and clear his throat, “Ah, yes.”

Dowoon turns around and notices that he’s left me exposed when he had opened the door. He immediately rushes over and stands before me hiding me behind him. As he faces Jinyoung and the rest of the members he quickly bows with a rush to leave, but as he bows, JB looks over and realizes that I’m ducking behind Dowoon trying to hide. “Uh,” His pen comes forward to point out that I was hiding there.

“Is there something you wanted to add?” Park Jinyoung then asked looking back at JB. His eyes shot back to Park Jinyoung and clears his throat. “Uh- ahem!” JB coughs and drops his pen. “Ahem! Yes. Ahem! I had thought the idea to be brilliant. I think the plan is great. When do we meet up with them?”

The conversation continues, as Dowoon quickly closed the door shut. As soon as the door shuts, he squats down beside me in sweat. “That was close.” He chuckled, but I shivered as I wiped my sweat before leaning my head back on the wall, “I was seen! You’ve exposed me twice already!”

He shushes me quickly covering my mouth with his palm before grinning. He grits his teeth and his other hands pats my head, “I”ll make up for it.”

┊ ┊ ┊   ┊┊ ┊   ┊ ┊

┊ ┊ ┊   ┊✦ ` ੈ˚｡┊`✫.

┊ ┊`✫. ┊     .`˚    ┊

┊⊹☪ ⋆.    ┊. ˚.      ⊹☪

┊˚           ˚✩ˊ

✧ ˎˊ｡

                                       ≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

[katesloan]

2017: the Year of Devastated Bravery

Time for my annual year-end survey! Been doing this one for well over a decade. Previously: 2012, the year of sex-positivity. 2013, the year of self-care. 2014, the year of turning over a new leaf, 2015, the year of foxy femme power, 2016, the year of the staunch heart.

1. What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before? Rang in the New Year at the home of a local sex-positive community leader with some of my closest pals, and was sent home with Alka-Seltzer tablets for the morning. Interviewed a bunch of matchmakers for a news feature (which sadly has yet to be published, boo). Started writing for Glamour, after their sex & relationships editor reached out to me via Twitter DM. Hired some rad babes to overhaul my blog design for me. Was hired by, and later fired from, two different sex shops (lolol). Had a sex-date in a creepy hotel room in Queens. Got spanked with a hanger rail from said hotel room’s closet. Performed in the Bed Post variety show a couple times. Started inviting guests onto our podcast (Cooper S. Beckett was the first one!). Missed my flight from New York to Toronto and had an anxiety breakdown in the airport. Got published on Teen Vogue. Had our first podcast sponsor. Started banging one of my coworkers (whoops). Did a photoshoot in a dungeon with a beautiful babe. Made out in a heated outdoor swimming pool at a sex club (uh, many times). Got intensely spanked over an acquaintance’s kitchen counter by three people working in tandem. Hooked up with a cute older British man who was visiting on business; he invited me to return to his hotel the following night and bought me sushi and wine on his company card (so fancy). Attended the launch party for a party game I was a staff writer on. Tried having sex with a penis extender. Had a surprisingly fantastic one-night stand with a guy who remembered me from when he was my waiter at a restaurant once. Went on a date with a polyamorous guy whose girlfriend listened to my podcast and told him to ask me out. Got paid to ghostwrite spanking erotica. Celebrated my five-year blogiversary. Went on a couple dates with a cute civil litigation lawyer who was an exceptionally good kisser. Got high with my best friend and did a livestreamed podcast. Was a bridesmaid in the wedding of two of my best friends. Topped my previous monthly income goals, again and again. Turned 25. Attended (and subsequently roasted) the Toronto International Porn Awards. Dated someone (for ~4 months!) who initially knew me from listening to my podcast. Had sex for like 5 hours on a first date. Learned to like some kink acts I’d previously found scary, like choking, face-slapping, and face-fucking. Was in a Daddy Dom/little girl relationship for a while. Attempted non-hierarchical polyamory. Reviewed a vibrating teddy bear. Started a part-time social media job at an adult-industry marketing firm. Took Reid Mihalko’s jealousy workshop. Took a freelance writing class from Alana Massey. Pegged someone. Got my wrists tattooed. Did a live podcast recording at a sex conference in front of friends and fans. Spanked a friend with a bible in a hotel room in Virginia. Got fucked in the ass with a glass dildo by a blogger friend while other blogger friends casually watched. Got a 4-handed erotic massage. Performed blowjob sonnets at a sex club. Went on a date with someone who turned out to be the best friend and roommate of someone I’d gone on a date with the previous month. Unexpectedly made out with/got slapped around by/got fingerbanged by a friend I’d known for over 10 years in an alley behind a restaurant. Moved out of my parents’ place and into an apartment! Had coffee with my editor at the Condé Nast building. Saw the McElroy brothers speak (and Lin-Manuel Miranda open for them) at a live podcast recording. Attended my high school reunion. Did tequila shots with my boss on my first day at a new job. Had an actual goddamn “sugar daddy,” briefly. Sold a sweaty T-shirt and socks to a fetishist. Went to a sex tradeshow with my fuckbuddy. Got spanked with a lightsaber. Slow-danced to a song about impregnation. Got accepted to speak at the Playground Conference. Received a strap-on blowjob from a pretty lady. Had two dates with two Twitter crushes in New York in one day (and then started dating both of them). Made out in a Breather. Did a knifeplay scene. Explored my domme side in earnest. Sexted from a TSA line. Went through NRE with two different people at once (a lot of crying ensued). Got hypnotized. FaceTimed with someone for 8 hours straight.

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year? Last year I resolved to “make self-development and career development my top priorities, to make romantic/sexual decisions based on the maxim ‘quality over quantity,’ and to make more money.” I think doing the first two things is what enabled me to do the third thing (I earned twice as much money in 2017 as in 2016!) – focusing on love and sex only when it actually served me, and delighted me, freed up a lot of time and passionate energy for businessy pursuits. Next year I resolve to pitch more stories, travel more, further foster my friendships with femmes, write more helpful content, and save more money.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Not that I can recall.

4. Did anyone close to you die? My grandfather, Rex Loring.

5. What countries did you visit? Just the USA (New York in January, September, and December; Alexandria in August). Within Canada, I spent a fair bit of time in Hamilton but was otherwise in Toronto the whole year.

6. What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017? A specific goal for my savings. Some steps taken toward larger-scale writerly ambitions (like, perhaps, writing a book proposal and/or self-publishing an ebook). Maybe a long-term relationship of some description; I dunno, man.

7. What dates from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory? January 25th – missed my flight back from New York February 10th – met my current FWB (and then, February 13th, banged him for the first time) April 22nd – Eric and Ashley’s wedding April 25th – first date with G, at Tell Me Something Good May 9th/10th – some disastrous poly stuff happened with G June 1st – started at my current dayjob August 3rd-6th – Woodhull August 11th – the hardest breakup I’ve been through in many years September 1st – moving day (and Brent’s show at the Horseshoe) September 8th – live MBMBaM show + coffee with Cady at Condé Nast September 11th – BirthdayBruises November 14th – got fired + talked to Dick a bunch November 29th – Vagic Tricks workshop December 13th – first dates with Dick + my Sir

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Professionally: Made twice as much money as I made last year. My dayjob remained under 25% of my income, with the other 75% coming from my more creative and self-directed income streams. Had clips in two prominent Condé Nast publications (Teen Vogue online, and Glamour online and in print). Sold 27+ sponsored blog posts. Personally: Made it through a horrendous breakup without dying. Got better at setting boundaries within my friendships and relationships. Successfully prioritized relationships and friendships with people who treat me well and actually deserve to be in my life.

9. What was your biggest failure? Putting up with men who walked all over me. (I feel like this is a recurring motif in my life, and in the lives of most women and femmes, honestly…) I also got fired from two different jobs this year. In both cases, they were minimum-wage jobs I didn’t really care about, wasn't well-suited for, and didn’t actually need, but still...

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Not really. I had the flu in September and struggled with mental health stuff all year, particularly in January and August, but was mostly fine.

11. What was the best thing you bought? Several things: My bright turquoise Coach tote, which I carried with me on numerous trips, sex-dates, photoshoots, etc. An app called Piezo which I use all the time for Skype interviews/podcast thingz. My knee-high Frye engineer boots (swoon) and rainbow glitter Doc Martens (swooooon). The V10 brush from BH Cosmetics (sooo useful for my brows on a daily basis!). Two Tarina Tarantino heart necklaces. A new mirror for my new apartment. Several adorable H&M dresses. My turquoise Seven-Year Pen. Lots of knitwear. A new Kindle. Weed. A microwave.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration? My best friend Bex, and my family. (Hell, Bex is family at this point.) My close and supportive buddies Sarah, Suz, Dan, Tynan, Taylor, and Steph. The 4 boys with whom I am romantically/sexually entangled right now (gems, all of ‘em!).

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed? The boy who broke my heart, and lots of Men On The Internet. Same old.

14. Where did most of your money go? Other than boring answers like rent and transit? Food and drinks, probably. I was more gluttonous than materialistic this year. I also spent a good chunk o’ change on tickets to things: theatre, airfare, classes, concerts, comedy, live podcast recordings...

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Working with Glamour and Teen Vogue. The Adventure Zone and other McElroy content. Hitting income goals (seriously, I’m talking about money more often than boys in my journals recently, which is a FEAT). Hippo Campus and Nathan Stocker. Working on ye olde blog and podcast, as ever. Negotiating/exploring new kink stuff.

16. What song/album will always remind you of 2017? First and foremost, Hippo Campus’ album Landmark, which I thrashed for almost the entire year. Related: their Warm Glow EP, and anything from their guitarist Nathan Stocker’s solo project Brother Kenzie. Beyond that: Coin’s How Will You Know If You Never Try?, Pinegrove’s Cardinal (which I listened to pretty much on loop while recovering from my brutal breakup in August), Grouplove’s “Do You Love Someone?”, Vampire Weekend’s “Horchata,” Panama Wedding’s “Uma,” Bombay Bicycle Club’s “Cancel On Me,” Betti’s “Ordinary,” Saint Motel’s “Puzzle Pieces.”

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: happier or sadder? Happier. My heart got thoroughly broken this year but I feel stronger and more self-sufficient for it. thinner or fatter? A bit thinner. Who cares. richer or poorer? Soooo much richer. Your girl made some goooood biz decisions this year.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Last year I wrote that I wished I’d gone on dates with more people, and woof, I sure met that goal in 2017. I went on 12 first dates, which is more than enough, thank you very much. I wish I’d spent more time chasing my creative impulses than my romantic or sexual ones. Although the latter kind of fueled the former for me, this year and every year.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Thinking “I can and will put up with this [bad behavior/uncomfortable circumstance/shitty job]” when I couldn’t and shouldn’t have. Being depressed, but hey, what can ya do.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? Spent it exchanging presents and eating delicious meals with my family.

21. Who did you spend the most time talking to? Bex, Max, Brent, Sarah, my FWB, my two current long-distance beaux, and the dude who was my boyfriend for a bit.

22. Did you fall in love in 2017? Yeah, and I’m still pissed about it. Love is pain!! [tosses hair in the manner of a tortured goth]

23. How many one night stands in this last year? Two true one-night stands (defined as: we had sex the night we met, and never saw each other again), plus one additional person I had sex with only once but went on a second date with afterward.

24. What was your favourite TV programme? American Horror Story, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Bold Type.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? I’m not thrilled with the guy who broke my heart, but I wouldn’t say that I hate him; that would involve more energy than I am willing or able to give to his memory at this juncture...

26. What was the best book you read? Fiction: I loved The Killer Wore Leather (Laura Antoniou’s murder-mystery set at a kink convention), Perfume: the Story of a Murderer (a truly haunting and viscerally olfactory novel by Patrick Suskind), and Sleeping Beauties (the creepy “what if every woman on earth fell asleep and wouldn’t wake up?” novel co-written by Stephen King and his son). Nonfiction: Laurie Mintz’s Becoming Cliterate was eye-opening, inspirational and fresh. Lisa A. Phillips’ Unrequited blew my fucking mind. I recently devoured Rachel Hills’ The Sex Myth and it’s wonderful.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? I listened to a bit of Pinegrove last year because Sean recommended them on his blog, but it wasn’t until this year that I really got into them. I started inexplicably craving their music after I got my heart broken and it made me feel weirdly better for weeks afterward.

28. What did you want and get? A boyfriend/partner/daddy dom (though it didn’t last very long). More money than I have ever made before. Career expansion. Closer friendships. An invitation to do a live podcast recording at a conference. An apartment, with a rad roommate. More confidence and self-sufficiency. Interesting kink adventures.

29. What did you want and not get? A romantic relationship that was actually and enduringly satisfying to me in the ways that most matter to me. I feel like I write some variation on this here every year. It’s okay. It’ll happen when it happens. Also, I wanted to do a writing retreat and that didn’t happen, though I’m blessed enough that I take little mini writing retreats of sorts all the time anyway.

30. What was your favourite film of this year? I think the only new ones I saw were Wonder Woman, The Big Sick, and It, none of which I really loved that much. It wasn’t a big film year for me.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 25. At midnight I was in bed in a hotel in Hamilton, having been in the wedding of two of my best friends the day previous. I had invited a gentleman friend to come romance me in my hotel that night but he was sick and had to cancel, so I just spent the night in a hot bath and then cozy in bed. The morning of my birthday, I checked out of the hotel and took a bus back to Toronto. That evening, Bex and I got dressed up fancy, went for dinner at the Black Bull Tavern, and attended the Toronto International Porn Festival awards gala, which was a hot mess.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? I can’t even think of anything. It was a satisfying year for me in many ways.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017? Low-effort femme. Lots of cozy colorful sweaters, denim shorts, stompy boots, crop tops, big hair, and kneesocks.

34. What kept you sane? My friends, my family, therapy, journaling, sex/kink/masturbation, my work, quiet introvert self-dates at bars/diners/cafés, hot baths,

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Nathan Stocker, Andy Samberg, Mark Andrada, Dan McCoy...

36. What political issue stirred you the most? Civil rights stuff, same as always. Gender equality and sexual equality and racial equality and all the equalities, basically.

37. Who did you miss? The two New York boys I’m currently romancin’, and Bex, pretty much always. And my ex, for a time.

38. Who was the best new person you met? Jordan, Adam, Thane, Cady, Logan (and several other babely bloggers at Woodhull), Todd, Dick, Matt, Eva...

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017. Even people who claim they will never hurt you can hurt you. That’s depressing, but it’s also somewhat Zen, because if you deeply, truly know that anyone can hurt you at any time, you come to enjoy the non-hurting parts so much more while they’re happening. Again, this sounds super tragic but I actually find it so liberating and uplifting when I think about it.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year. “Menfolk, they need their women, but women don’t need their men.” -Nellie McKay, “Just a Pose” “Maybe I would’ve been something you’d be good at. Maybe you would’ve been something I’d be good at.” -Tegan and Sara, “Call It Off” “It’s cold outside this evening, but warm between your sheets. We both wanted something we’re not likely to repeat.” -Paul Cook & the Chronicles, “Ships Pass” “Someone to talk to late at night. Someone who fits you right… Someone who makes your heart go boom boom boom. Someone you see across a crowded room. Someone who makes your heart jolt. Not some okay girl. A real thunderbolt.” -Paul Cook & the Chronicles, “A Real Thunderbolt” (I could’ve quoted this entire song here, honestly)

[etymologv]

dear mother of penguins

genre: oneshot, almost drabble-like, fluff, slight angst (but really, mostly some schoolgirl fluff lol). Hamilton references.

pairing: highschool!kim taehyung x reader

word count: 2.3k+

summary: A series of interactions with Kim Taehyung, someone you never understood enough, and possibly never will.

(a/n): this was my first ever fic and short story that's not for a school requirement and I just really felt like writing this, edited a bit from the original version from my main blog. enjoy! :)

Taehyung. He has always intimidated you without even trying to. He was tall, or at least much taller than you were. He was popular for being and having basically everything everyone else seemed to look at—good looks, an angelic voice, brains, and good humor. Maybe a little too much humor though. But deep inside, you knew you loved it.

Decent. That was how you described, maybe rated him in eighth grade when your best friend of two years Irene asked you what you think about him, because everyone just liked him. You found that part odd though, because you’ve known him for two years and you have always thought that he was decent at best.

Math. It was a math project in the first semester of tenth grade that made you talk for the first time. You’ve had interactions before, but those interactions didn’t even reach the point of interacting enough for them to count as actual conversations. And for the first time, you thought, maybe he isn’t as intimidating as you had always viewed him.

“Ah, I’m lucky,” you hear him whisper as Mr. Jung announced the pairings for the project. He was even smiling. You almost blush.

At around nine in the evening, he contacts you in the form of a Facebook message, the first of your Messenger conversation.

Taehyung: Helloooo im starting w page 5 and working my way up, can u start w page 1??haha

And so you did. After finishing two pages, you read his messages on his progress and oh my goodness he has finished three pages and apologizing for doing almost nothing?! Though you didn’t mind. You were even amused.

Fresh linen. You noticed that that was how he smelled while you were checking each other’s work. Attractive, you thought to yourself.

Glances. You found yourself stealing glances only to see him already looking at you.

Fast forward, your English teacher announces that your project for the year is a stage play. And of course, everyone wanted Taehyung to be the male lead character.

He deserved it though, he had this soothing voice that could have this aggressively ambitious vibe to it if he wanted to. Perfect for Alexander Hamilton. You even thought he sounded a bit like Lin Manuel-Miranda.

You ended up having the role of his mistress. Who would sit on his lap grabbing his hair, his face buried to your shoulder. Now, let us tone that down before you experience problems in breathing and just talk about the part where you would cup each other’s left cheek. Your innocent high school heart gets on the verge of exploding just with the thought of your scenes.

After your first weekend practice for the stage play, you had snacks. And a whole pack of ice cubes for some reason.

After the war, I went back to New York, a-after the war I went back to New York-

Non-stop. That was the song that was playing when he ended up in front of you, cupping both cheeks instead of one. Neither of you said anything. Staring. There was just staring.

This is the first murder trial of our brand-new nation-

Your heart was thumping violently, pace increasing each discernable unit of time. You were scared, scared of how you looked, if you blushed. You were scared that however you reacted would give you away. You looked down and tried to play off the looking-down as something cute by swaying your head with his hands still on it. Left, right, left. He removed his hands. Neither of you said anything, and both of you just joined your classmates in the game they were playing using the ice cubes.

You felt something. You felt it. No matter how many times you tried to reason out what happened with it simply being part of practicing. Hell, the song where you were supposed to do that wasn’t even playing.

After some minutes, you ran to Jimin to give him a detailed report on the interaction. Sometimes you regret telling one of his closest friends about how you like Taehyung a lot, but Jimin was that kind of person who would smile at you and support you on your almost-nonexistent moves, as he puts it.

The next week, he laughed maybe a little too loudly at a joke you said.

I hid the letter and I raced to her place-

You ran to each other, his arms grabbing yours. You insist that you had nothing to do with your husband James Reynolds knowing about your affair. And then you whispered, “You know, this does look very similar to In Time. I’m basically draining the time you have left right now.” He let go of your arms and started laughing. Really loudly. While walking around and eventually banging his right fist against the wall for more laughing support. It was very Kim Taehyung to laugh at whatever whenever, but you couldn’t help but think this was maybe a little too much. Still, you liked it. A smile forms on your lips. His boxy smile, that signature Kim Taehyung smile, that was going to be the death of you.

Later that day, Jimin and Taehyung started paper mache-ing their way to making guns for props.

“Can you help Taehyung with the gun he’s working on? You can tear the newspapers for him. If you want.”

Ah, Jimin. If you looked closely, you would have seen how his eyebrows bounced up and down slightly. Breathe in, breathe out. With a careful small quick smile, you nodded.

You grabbed the lifestyle section and sat on President Washington’s chair. Or Alexander Hamilton’s. Depends on which song you look at. Can you even look at songs? What are you even saying? Breathe in, breathe out. He chose one of the chairs for Non-stop, which was very much beside yours.

And you were talking. After 15 minutes, you still were. At first, it was just about music taste and all that jazz (and sometimes you hate your humor for having puns even in your narrations), but the topics somehow got deeper. It felt amazing. He intrigued you, he seemed like someone that’s unreachable, in the sense that he wasn’t the type to go below the surface.

“Is Supreme close?” You were curious. He was part of Supreme, the dominating social group of the school, but part of you didn’t feel like the group was healthy for each other. Damn, a lot of people even thought their name itself wasn’t good for them. A couple, both sides members of Supreme too, suddenly went awkward because Supreme kept pushing them together. Jongdae, also a member, posted an unfunny meme of Taehyung’s picture even though Taehyung wasn’t laughing anymore. Maybe they just didn’t have the word limits in their vocabularies.

After some seconds, he replied, “I guess so, yeah, I mean we do hang out sometimes, eat lunch as a group, watch movies and shit like that.”

“I mean, close, like open to each other, like you’d share what you’re feeling, joke around but know each others’ limits, and ‘shit like that’?”

Taehyung looks up. “I guess I can’t say everyone’s comfortable with everyone. You see, we’re like a network of units of close friends. The girls have their own thing most of the time too.”

You’re reminded of how many times the thought that he keeps everything to himself without any form of release has crossed your mind. You just feel it when someone’s down. And whenever you feel that he is, nobody asks him if everything’s okay.

You find yourself wanting to be the one he opens up to.

You stand up and make your way to Jimin to refill your cup of glue solution. When you come back, Taehyung is sitting your chair, chuckling, “Thank you for the chair. You can go sit on my hand-me-down-much-less-comfortable one.”

And suddenly you were both laughing full on, both wondering why, but still laughing.

“Oh, and hey, let’s exchange numbers? For stage play matters?” He looks like he’s trying to hold back laughter, but you take his phone and enter your number anyway. He adds a contact to your phone as well.

The next weekend, he was late to the practice, but maybe it’s you who came early since aside from you, there were only five people.

To Taehyung

Heyheyhey where are you?

You text him. There was no reply.

“Have you realized anything yet?” was the first thing he said when he arrived.

“What is there to realize?”

“Well. Maybe I entered one less digit than I was supposed to in your contacts.”

Taehyung that little…  “Yah!” So that was why.

Taehyung with his hair down, parted in the middle. That would make you melt faster than the sun can.

The day before the stage play, he had his hair down, parted in the middle. And dear mother of penguins he looked amazing. Breathe in, breathe out. Do not fangirl in front of him. “You look nice with your hair down,” you manage to tell him without melting because you would like to reiterate—dear mother of penguins he looked amazing.

But dear grandmother of penguins, he styled his hair like that for the whole week.

Summer. It was one summer three am when he messaged you with only your name in it. You replied as soon as you woke up, which was eight hours later.

You: Hi, sorry for replying late, what’s up?

Taehyung: Ah, nothing, I’m sorry

Taehyung: Again im sorry

You: What for? everything ok??

Taehyung: Nothing, sorry again

The next day, you message him.

You: Henlo

Taehyung: I heard that greeting was for stinky people?? Stop greeting yourself HAHAHA

You: YAH!!!

You: >:<<<<<

Taehyung: Anyways

Taehyung: Yesterday when I chatted you

Taehyung: I said it was nothing because I was drinking with Yoongi at that time haha

A beat. Your heart just skipped a beat.

Nana. In the middle of the first semester of twelfth grade, you noticed that he’s been with Nana a lot recently. Nana getting into his car with him. Nana spending lunch with him. You’d try to avoid selfish thoughts, but you can’t help but notice how you’ve been talking much less. And not so long after it was confirmed. You were beginning to sound like a thirteen year old whose crush won’t like her back at this point, But she was everything you weren’t. Fair skin, bright eyes, long legs. She screamed the societal standards of beautiful.

But you can’t forget how she broke Jimin’s heart, and how Taehyung’s could be broken too.

Watch. That was all you could do. Watch and see what happens. You’d accept it if they’re happy. Though that would hurt you, you would somehow accept it and learn to be happy for them as well. If he gets hurt, then you’d be there, and when he heals, you’d still be there. You would cry with him and recommend both sad and uplifting songs and crack the corniest of the jokes with him. You were still young, and it wasn’t sure if your feelings for Taehyung would fade or not. But you would watch. You would be open to other possibilities, because whatever happens, happens.

Twelve years after. It was twelve years after you graduated from high school that you first saw him in person again. You entered different universities, and just… lost touch. The last time you heard from him was when he messaged you saying that he was going to delete his Facebook account because his parents told him to, but he didn’t mention his new number.

You were absent-mindedly munching down popcorn when Jimin called your name. He was at the food counter, arguing with the staff because he was pissed that they were out of cheese powder, and put barbecue flavor powder instead on your shared extra-large bucket, without telling either of you about it. He was extra mad, because he planned everything for the string of activities for your honeymoon. You both wanted cheese, you both loved cheese and knew it, but you didn’t mind barbecue. Except he did, because it was an extra-large bucket that is not cheese. He was so mad to the point that he wanted to talk to the manager, but the manager was on leave, and the owner of the movie house was there instead.

You stood up, walked to the counter, and instantly froze when you saw the reason Jimin called you. There he was, Kim Taehyung, hugging Park Jimin. He was the owner, and you have no idea why you haven’t seen each other when this movie house was where half your dates with Jimin took place. Seven years of frequenting the place and not noticing at all? Was this the first leave of the manager in seven years? Didn’t other customers with worse tempers have complaints?

“Hi,” was all you could say.

“Hi, it’s been so long. How are you?”

You run to them and join the hug, and after pulling away, you say, “As much as I would like to talk to you right now and catch up, the movie we’ve been planning on watching since the trailer came out is starting in fifteen minutes and I’m sorry.”

“Coffee? The three of us? After the movie?” He offers.

After the movie, you catch up. He tells you that his parents gave him this movie house as a gift when he finished college. And that he took a business management course. And that he and Nana broke up after five years of going on and off. You tell him that after seven years of being with Jimin, you got married about a month ago. Your husband adds that this movie date was part of your honeymoon which you’re not supposed to know how long it’s going to be because he’s got it all planned as a surprise, and that he’s still upset about the popcorn flavor, but of course he’s joking and Taehyung knows that. What he didn’t tell you was that he has seen you and Jimin several times, but he didn’t want to show himself. Watch. That was all he could do. He knew that he was special to you, but he also knew that Jimin was much more than that. You looked much happier, you were much happier. He figured that showing himself might confuse you, and he didn’t want to risk that. He believed that you and Jimin were strong, but he still wanted to wait for the right time. Though the right time never seemed to come.

And there he was, watching you two leave the café, smiling at how being in a fight with the cheese powder supplier gave him peace.

[toddcowrd]

do,,, aLL of the aesthetic asks

how,, how could you do this 2 me

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?

like two minutes ago :))

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

if the career i want to pursue is going to work out for me

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

i’ve done nothing noteworthy ever

but i was #1 rally champ in my region for soap box derby and i also won my local race and went to the world championships in ohio :))

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

uuhhh i got a disney pass recently and have just been going to disney a lot which makes me v happy

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

yeah man i would tell my crush that i have a crush on them, i would go get all the tattoos, all the piercings, i would prob go to a bunch of protests, and really just speak my mind all the time

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

perform in an original broadway musical as a lead role

meet daveed diggs

write and record a song 

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.

uhhhhhhhhhh shit man idk my friend carlos is super funny, has really bad eyesight, has just like the worst fashion sense, is sarcastic and mean af but watches all the same youtubers i do and we have so many inside jokes it’s crazy

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

yeah, i think so. it wasn’t like super great but my parents supported the things i wanted to do and pushed me to succeed 

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

like a few months ago probably

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.

my crush cause they’re super nice and i’m sure they would love to stargaze 

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

yeah man i overshare all the time :))

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

one of my best friends jaque and i have 3 am conversations literally all the time 

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

i would tell my brother that i love him cause i can’t remember when the last time i said it was and i want him to know

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?

i lov ‘em, i lov any color eye

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

“where you ought to go depends on where you want to get to” is a paraphrased quote that the cheshire cat says to alice and i’ve always interpreted it meaning if you want to get somewhere, you have to make it happen, and where you go and what you do should be what you want

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

‘almost 16 years of bullshit’

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

probably buy a bunch of makeup and theatre tickets, and i would buy my friends anything they wanted :)

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

yeah i’m a really forgiving person and i like it but i also kind of hate it bc i fall for the same thing over and over bc i give so many chances to people that don’t deserve it

(see when: i dated a guy like 5 times bc he kept leaving me but then apologizing and promising to change)

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.

i’m not going to do that, i’m sorry :((

my memory is really bad so idk what i was like or what i was doing and honestly this ask is long enough lmaoo

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

punk

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

i love them with all my heart i’m gonna be covered in them one day but for now i just have my septum pierced

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

it depends, sometimes i’ll wake up and not want to do makeup, sometimes i’ll wake up and spend half an hour doing it

i also have to do heavy makeup for shows sometimes

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

the entire american idiot album by greenday really affected me a few years ago and really pushed me to like,, be who i wanted to be? idk why but it made me care less what other people thought 

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

you have the right to your opinion unless it is condemning some one for something that is out of their control 

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

0 concerts :(

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

uhh probably lin-manuel miranda and i’d probably just want some generic speech about never giving up and working hard so i could hang it somewhere and it would inspire me 

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

i do not have one but if i did it would wildly fluctuate between tidy and unruly 

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?

i remove any makeup i wore that day, wash my face, slap some products on it, change for bed, get a glass of water, play some music, then get in bed

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

uhh i really don’t keep secrets from my mom? she doesn’t know i’m bi but that’s just more of me not being ready to tell her rather than not wanting her to know

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

it would be like deep blue with bangs bc that’s cute af

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

my three best friends (jocsan, carlos, and jaque), em, and my friend kiara 

we would go to a theme park cause they’re fun and i love them 

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

to have clear skin cause my skin is horrid atm

to have the courage to tell someone that i think they’re attractive or that i have a crush on them cause i’m shy and nervous all the time

to be able to travel somewhere i’ve never been for fun cause i’ve only ever traveled for other reasons

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

i wanted to be luna lovegood one year and i was going to get some ravenclaw robes, make Dirigible plum-shaped earrings (to keep away the nargles), get/make a copy of the quibbler, and make her glasses but no one sells ravenclaw robes :(

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

i mean i’m under age so

psst i may have had ‘a few’ coolers once and then proceeded to kick ass in beer pong with my friend christian (though the cups were filled with water lmao we didn’t drink any beer) it wasn’t regrettable but it was frustrating for everyone else lmaoo

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

idk probably like eat someone

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

i’d listen to fireflies by owl city cause i’ll never get tired of it

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realize you’re in love.

i mean, for me it’s like an oh shit feeling followed by happiness and nervousness

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

i probably wouldn’t cut my own hair short bc i love my long hair but anyone who wants to do either of those things is rad af 

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

i would trust anyone it’s simple af i either get a vanilla bean with no coffee or a passion fruit iced tea lemonade sweetened

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

uhh probably my friends and my choir class

[ghosthunthq]

For: @books-tea-ghosts

By: @snavej

A massive thank you to @teaaddictedghosthunter for editing!

Day 1: Monday

“And everything is in her bag,” Lin finished and handed the large backpack to Oliver.

“We’ll be fine,” Gene insisted while bouncing the toddler on his hip. “Won’t we, Maggie?”

“Yes,” Maggie replied with a vigorous nod, causing her two ponytails to bounce on either side of her head.

Madoka leaned over and kissed her daughter.

“You behave for Gene and Noll, won’t you?” she asked in a gentle voice, caressing Maggie chubby cheek.

“Yes Mama!”

“Bye bye Maggie!”

The toddler’s parents waved as they left. Oliver rolled his eyes and shut the door behind them as he mumbled about letting the heat out.

“Bye bye!” Maggie echoed. She wriggled against Gene and ordered him to put her— “Down!”

Gene placed her on the floor where she wobbled for a second before taking off down the hallway.

“Oh jeesh!” Gene went haring after Maggie. He kept his hands outstretched, ready to catch the toddler at any moment.

Oliver, meanwhile, shrugged and followed at an idle pace. When he caught up with his twin and their charge, Maggie was opening and closing all of the kitchen cupboards that she could reach purely for the pleasure of looking inside them.

“Maggie, why don’t we go and do some drawing?” Gene suggested with an encouraging smile.

“No!”

Maggie had not turned to speak to Gene, but had continued searching the cupboards and drawers as Gene hovered over her, ready to protect her from whatever danger she may find.

“Or watch TV?”

“No!”

The toddler looked around and giggled at the look of frustration on Gene’s face.

“No!” Maggie repeated, clapping her hands together as a grin spread across her features.

“She takes after her mother, I see,” Oliver commented.

“Book!” Maggie tottered past Gene and grabbed onto Oliver’s trouser leg. “Book!”

“She wants you to read to her,” Gene guessed.

“I gathered,” Oliver replied before looking down at Maggie’s eager face. “I am not reading to you.”

“No! Book!”

Oliver rolled his eyes and glared at Gene, who was leaning against the counter and looking amused.

“I’ll read to you,” Gene said hastily, jumping away from the work surface.

“No.”

Maggie pouted at Gene and stuck her tongue out before returning to tugging on Oliver’s clothing. Gene swooped down and picked Maggie up.

“Come on, let’s leave Noll alone. I’ll read to you.”

Maggie’s pout grew as Gene carried her away from Oliver, who in turn began making a pot of tea. He flicked the kettle on and had just found a mug when his phone started ringing.

He answered it.

“Yes, Mai?”

“How’s it going? Have you killed Maggie yet?”

“She’s been here a total of four minutes,” Oliver deadpanned. “I have not done anything to her.”

“Is she okay? Have you made her cry yet?”

“Gene has taken charge of her,” Oliver said, “She has not cried—”

A sudden wail from the living room cut him off.

“What’s that? What did you do?” Mai’s frantic voice asked. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone to this damned conference.”

“Mai, that conference is important for your career. Gene and I will manage perfectly well. Now if you will excuse me, I need to find out what on earth the idiot did to make the child cry.”

Oliver hung up, somewhat offended that Mai thought he could not manage five minutes without killing a child. Especially when Gene was the one that upset the toddler.

Oliver abandoned his half-made tea and strode through to the living room.

“What did you do?”

“Maggie stubbed her toe,” Gene explained. He was holding Maggie close to his chest and shushing the toddler. However, when Maggie spotted Oliver, she wriggled free of his grip and latched, once again, onto Oliver’s trouser leg.

“Hug!” she demanded.

“No,” Oliver replied as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Hug now!” she repeated with a pouting frown.

“Noll, it won’t kill you,” Gene muttered.

Oliver glared first at Gene then down at the toddler. He sighed heavily when his stare had no effect on Maggie. He picked her up and held her at arm’s length. Maggie reached out for him, still pouting.

Oliver sighed again and drew her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled. Gene now took to pouting.

“What?” Oliver mouthed at him.

“Nothing,” he replied, looking away.

Oliver rolled his eyes and pulled Maggie off of him.

“Gene is going to read to you,” he told her as he placed her back on the floor.

Oliver missed the disappointed expression Maggie sent his way as he left the room. He was keen to escape before he could be roped into any more ridiculous activities. He returned to the kitchen, made his tea and headed to his room.

He opened his email account and found one addressed to him and Gene from Madoka and Lin. The subject line read ‘How to take care of a toddler.’

Oliver took a long gulp of tea and opened the attachment. His eyes scanned the document in front of him. It consisted of a daily routine, food plan, guides on how to wash a toddler as well as how to stimulate her during playtime.

Oliver yawned and closed the document. It was Monday today and Madoka and Lin would only be away until Friday. How hard could it be?

A shriek from downstairs reached Oliver’s ears. He drunk a little more of his tea, having expected Gene to deal with whatever the problem may be. Yet the shrieking continued.

Oliver finished his drink and headed towards the noise.

“What’s going on?” he asked his brother.

“She won’t stop crying!” Gene replied, flapping his hands about. “We were reading and then—”

Oliver glanced at the clock on the wall.

“She is tired,” he concluded. “The schedule Madoka sent indicated she has usually had a nap by now.”

“But we haven’t even sorted out her sleeping arrangements yet!”

“We’ll put her in Mai’s room,” Oliver said.

A sudden tug on his trousers caused him to look down. Maggie had latched onto him, yet again, and was now wiping her nose on him as she continued to bawl.

“I’ll do it,” Gene said, reaching forwards to pick her up. But as soon as his hands touched Maggie, her wailing increased twofold.

“I’ll do it,” Oliver corrected.

He picked Maggie up and imitated the shushing noises Gene had made earlier with as much fake empathy as he could muster. Maggie settled a little, her head resting on his shoulder. By the time he had reached Mai’s room, Maggie had fallen asleep.

He placed the toddler in Mai’s bed and tucked her in, leaving her to her nap. He crept out of the room to find Gene, who had relocated to the kitchen was reading the email Madoka and Lin had sent on his phone.

“We have, like, no toys.”

“There are a few in the bag,” Oliver countered.

“Yeah, but have you seen how much ‘playtime’ is on this schedule thing?” Gene asked.

“I briefly glanced at it.”

“This was such a bad idea.”

“Humans are surprisingly resilient creatures,” Oliver said. “She will survive a week with us.”

“You are relying on the resilience of the human species? Really?”

Oliver shrugged.

“I have some work to do,” he muttered. “Are you willing to cook for this evening?”

“Yeah,” Gene mumbled, mind clearly elsewhere, “Yeah, I’ll sort something out.”

Oliver nodded his appreciation and returned to his room. He worked in peace and quiet for almost two hours, an unexpected bonus considering their new house guest.

Gene’s muffled voice roused Oliver from his state of concentration. He could not quite make out what his brother was saying, but from the tone of his voice, he knew Gene was annoyed.

He exited his bedroom to find Gene’s bedroom door open.

“—not supposed to use that!”

A childish giggle told Oliver that Maggie had woken up.

“Give it here!”

Oliver entered Gene’s bedroom to find Maggie clutching at what he recognised as Gene’s stage makeup. Although Gene had not been part of the local Amateur Dramatics group for a few years, he religiously maintained his stage makeup collection, just in case it was needed.

Maggie, however, was oblivious to this and thus had used the various powders, lipsticks and creams as facepaint. She had given herself surprisingly symmetrical red panda eyes. The rest of her skin had been coloured a sickly green colour and a lot of what Oliver recognised as foundation had been used to ‘style’ her hair.

He smirked at the distraught look on Gene’s face.

“Noll. Can you clean her up while I salvage what I can?”

“Of course,” Oliver replied, turning to Maggie. “Come on.”

Maggie giggled again and clapped her hands before holding them out to Oliver, who sighed and picked her up. He kept her at arm’s length until they reached the bathroom.

After putting the toilet seat lid down, Oliver sat Maggie on the lid and set the water running in the sink. After a minute, when the water had warmed up, Oliver grabbed a clean flannel and wetted it before wiping the mess off of Maggie’s face with as much care as he could be bothered with.

“There,” he said finally.

Maggie’s face had reddened from his scrubbing, but she had not cried and so Oliver saw this as a success.

“Hungry!” Maggie declared as she wriggled to the floor. “Foo now!”

Oliver followed her from the bathroom to the stairs, where Maggie bum shuffled down them. Impressed with her ability to get around, despite being a little unsteady, Oliver continued after Maggie until they reached the kitchen.

They found Gene stirring a pan and scowling. Oliver could hear him muttering under his breath as he did so. But knowing his words were likely to be about his ruined makeup collection, Oliver made no effort to induce a conversation.

“Food is almost ready, lay the table.”

Oliver nodded. He reached down and picked Maggie up. He sat her in a chair and quickly realised they would have a problem. Her head just reached the height of the main table.

“Can’t see!”

Maggie obviously saw the problem too.

“Wait there, I will set the table.”

“Can’t see!” Maggie repeated, reaching up and banging the bit of table closest to her head.

“I know,” Oliver repeated. His hands worked at setting place mats and cutlery for three, while his eyes remained on Maggie. The toddler appeared content making a racket.

“Noll, she can’t use metal cutlery!” Gene admonished. “There were plastic ones in that bag.”

“Keep an eye on her while I get them.”

When Oliver returned, Maggie had stood up on the chair so that she could see the table. She had taken the liberty of rearranging the cutlery that she could reach so that the knives and forks formed crosses.

Oliver replaced Maggie’s cutlery with the plastic spork and straightened the other sets.

“No!” Maggie threatened tears at Oliver ruining her hard work. But a crisis was averted by the arrival of the food.

“You gave her as much as an adult,” Oliver accused.

Gene sighed, but did not respond to Oliver’s comment.

“Eat up, Maggie,” Gene encouraged as he sat.

The twins began eating, not realising for a few minutes that Maggie was struggling to eat herself.

She began to make displeased whining sounds, gaining the attention of both young men. Oliver immediately slid her place closer and cut up her food into smaller mouthfuls.

“There. Eat.”

Maggie tried again. When Gene finished his own food, he took her spork and fed her with the aid of a few imaginary planes and choo choo trains.

After Maggie had eaten some food — neither twin was entirely sure if the quantity was enough — Oliver sat Maggie down in front of his laptop and streamed some children’s show for her to watch.

They were midway through the washing up when Maggie tottered into the kitchen.

“Where Mama?”

“On holiday,” Oliver replied as he dried one of the plates.

“Where holiday?” Maggie stressed each syllable of the last word.

“Paris.”

Maggie’s frown grew.

“Where Mama?” she repeated, her perturbed state of mind evident. “Where Dada?”

Gene dried his hands and bent down to Maggie’s level.

“They’re not here right now. We’re looking after you,” he said in a soft voice.

Maggie’s bottom lip wobbled dangerously. Gene’s face morphed from worry to sheer panic.

“Maggie,” he said hastily, “It’s ok—”

She bawled. Noisy tears streamed down her face as she plonked down to the floor and covered her face with her chubby little hands.

“I don’t know what you expected,” Oliver muttered. “She was bound to get upset about her parents leaving at some point.”

“But they talked to her about it,” Gene replied.

Oliver raised an eyebrow at his twin.

“I thought I was supposed to be the idiotic insensitive one.”

Gene’s mouth fell open, insulted. Oliver put away the final piece of kitchenware and picked up Maggie, who latched her arms around his neck again.

“Mama,” she moaned into his neck.

“She’ll be back soon,” Oliver insisted. “Let’s go and watch something while we wait.”

Gene gaped after Oliver.

“Who are you and what did you do with my brother?”

Unseen by Gene, Oliver rolled his eyes. He settled Maggie back in front of his laptop, but Maggie would not release his arm. So Oliver sat down beside the toddler and read while Maggie watched some ridiculous cartoon.

When he joined them, Gene pouted at the lavish attention Maggie was giving his brother, but did not say anything for fear of making Maggie cry again.

“Where is she going to sleep?” he asked in a soft voice some time later.

Oliver shrugged.

“Mai’s room?”

Gene nodded, not having a better suggestion.

Some time later, once Maggie had fallen asleep watching cartoons, Oliver relocated her to Mai’s bed again.

They had survived the first day.

[chuckisgod]

Deals With the Devil (Lin x Reader) Part 2

Pairings: Lin x Reader

Warnings: Angst, lots of it.

Word Count: 3525... This is the longest thing I’ve ever written.

AN: This is it! It’s the end of my Supernatural-based fic. I’m probably going to go cry for hours now. I hope you like it!

Tags: @the-and-peggy @hamiltrashtothemax @plamspringsdancingontables @piercethemarti @fandomsinabookshelf @beautifulfound @hamil-tonn-of-trash @hamlltvn @barnesgasm @superwholockbooknerd526

Part 1

February 22, 2016 (366 days before) Catching a cab three streets up from the warehouse, Lin rode to the hospital, his heart racing a mile a minute. God if what that man, Crowley, had said was true, you’d be alive, but he’d also have a timer on his life. If what Crowley said was true, in precisely a year. He’d be gone.

As they arrived, his heart in his throat, he pictured you awake, hell even you being alive would be good enough for him. Pulling out his wallet he paid the driver and tipped him generously before walking back into the place he had raced out of earlier.     “Mr. Miranda!” The lady at the front desk called him over, “We’ve been trying to get in contact with you for the past hour. Something happened. She’s awake and asking for you. Room 372.”     The race down the hallway seemed quicker than last time he had completed it, and he realized that it because he knew you were okay, that you and the baby were okay. God, there was a little human he had created that was going to eventually live, and he would only be around to see it for four months. Four months that he would treasure his daughter or son.     The door of the hospital room was ajar, and he could hear the humming of various machines. You might be alive, but you were still hurt. It wasn't even your fault. You had the right of way, and so you attempted to cross the street, but a cab had hit a patch of ice and couldn't stop in time before it plowed right into you.

Lin pushed the door open the rest of the way, and suddenly he was by your side. “I can’t believe you're okay,” he whispered, crying into his hands. “Last time I was here I thought you were dead.”

“I’m okay, just a little banged up.” He grabbed your hand, trying to be careful around the IV set in your arm.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked rubbing his thumb on the skin on the back of your hand, his red eyes staring into yours like he was looking for an answer.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The doctor found something interesting in one of your tests that I thought you might already know.” Seeing the confused look in your eye, taking the hand he was holding he gently set it on your lower abdomen.

May 28th, 2016 (270 days before) The vows Lin had written felt like a weight in his pocket as he fumbled with tying his tie. The room he was getting ready in seemed smaller than when he had entered it.

“Woah, Lin. Take it, steady man.” Suddenly Chris’s fingers were at his neck, retying the tie that Lin’s nervous fingers had mangled. “I don’t understand why you’re so nervous. It’s not like you haven’t been planning this for months.”

“I just- What if she doesn’t want to marry me.”

“Are you being serious right now? Because honestly if it’s even possible that girl loves you almost more than you love her.”

In the room you were getting ready in, you didn't have the same doubts. You knew Lin loved you. Lin had been so great with helping to plan the wedding and dealing with you being pregnant that obviously, he did.

And so as you walked out of the room to walk down the aisle, you weren’t worried about Lin being at the end of it; you were terrified of falling on your face. You only stumbled once, but thankfully it was right into the arms of the love of your life and knew that life your life was going to be fine if Lin was in it.

June 12th, 2016 (255 days before) Trying to find a dress for the Tony's while five months pregnant was about as difficult as you would have imagined but knowing you had to be there to support your husband and his act of creation, but you powered through.

You might have been cutting it a little close, but the dress you had decided on with Pippa and Jasmine's help was worth it.

When Lin finally saw you in your dress the night of the awards, he gasped before moving over to you and swinging you around. “Careful,” you warned.

“You look beautiful,”

During the limo ride, Lin must have been nervous, his leg bouncing and his hands balled into fists.

“Hey,” you whispered, pulling one of his hands into both of yours. “Hamilton's nominated sixteen times. If you don't win something, it must have been rigged.”

The limo was pulling onto the road, and suddenly Lin was opening the door into the chaos and pulling you across the seat and into the craziness.

You wished you could avoid the red carpet, but Lin's hand on your arm kept you steady and sure that you would be okay, while he chatted with the press.

You watched later as the ‘little musical’ your husband had written won awards for almost every category it was nominated in. You weren’t surprised when your husband even ended up taking home 2 of the awards for himself.

July 9th, 2016 (228 days before) Lin’s last night as Hamilton started out as most days in the Miranda household do, with Lin waking you up by singing whatever song was stuck in his head. Today it was Helpless, and as soon as he saw that you were up, he pulled you out of bed and swung you around the apartment.

After making a breakfast fit for an entire royal family, you were eating for two, after all, you and Lin took the A-line farther into the city and parted ways close to the Richard Rodgers where you took a turn that led you deeper into the city towards work. “I’ll see you at the show,” Lin whispered, kissing the hand he was holding before letting you go.

Throughout the day as Lin was saying not goodbye but so long for now to some of his coworkers, some of his best friends. He tried to picture himself anywhere other than where he was, and he couldn’t even imagine it.

He felt more energized during the night’s performance almost as though him knowing you were in the crowd watching him made him two hundred times better than the perfect he already was, and when he was making his final bow he sought out your eyes in the crowd.

As you waded through the crowd of people in the lobby of the Richard Rodgers after the show, you made your way backstage. Stopping into the girl’s dressing room, you watched Pippa’s teary goodbye with the girls who played her sisters, and you almost began crying when she turned her attention to you in the doorway.

“There you are!” A breathless Daveed exclaimed almost pulling you out of your embrace with Pippa, “Lin’s been looking for you everywhere, and he was too scared of being mobbed to go out into the lobby.

“Bye Pippa! I’ll see you for pie in a couple of days. Right?” She nodded and let you go.     Knocking at the door to his dressing room, you heard a muffled, “Come in,” before you pushed open the door. You almost burst out laughing when you did. Lin was stuck. One of his arms out of the top of his Hamilton costume, but his other arm and his head were hopelessly tangled in the fabric.

“Geez Lin, What am I going to do with you?”

October 12th, 2016 (133 days before) The day his daughter was born, Lin was very busy. He had been writing the intro for a talk show he was appearing in the next week while you slept in the next room. Little did he know that within his next few hours his whole life was going to change or that you would end up breaking his hand in the process.

Aria Grace Miranda was born on a partly cloudy Wednesday in the middle of October kicking and screaming with all ten fingers and all ten toes. But later as friends and family stopped by to see the new little one they would remark on how she was the sweetest, most well-behaved baby they had ever seen, her parents would smile at each other and know that they were possibly never going to get a full night’s sleep ever again.     November 2, 2016 (112 days before) Lin walked briskly, his coat flapping in the cold winter’s breeze. Ducking inside the open door of a nearby bookstore he decided to roam through the sections, as usual, when he came to the children’s section, he ran his fingers across the spines, picturing his baby girl hopefully asleep in her crib. He would only ever know her as a baby, but you would be there for everything, her first word when she started walking.

In 10 years, his little princess wouldn’t be able to determine his voice from the next guy’s. Taking out his phone, he grabbed the closest book on the shelf, “Goodnight Moon,” and flipping to the audio recorder, started reading.

After he had done 3 or 4 books, an employee of the bookstore came over and just watched him for a couple of minutes. “Is there a reason why you’re reading children’s books into your phone, sir?”

“I’m-” how was he going to explain that he was reading children’s books into his phone because in a little under four months he’d be dead. “-I’m sick and I only have a few months to live, and I want my daughter to be able to hear my voice reading a bedtime story to her every night for as long as she wants one.”

“We actually have better recording equipment in the back, if you'd like to use it. I could talk to my boss and see if she'd let you.”

Lin ended up recording almost every children's book in the store in the 3 and a half months that he had left, keeping them on DVDs that he kept hidden in a box in the back of the closet that you shared.

When he got home that night though he kissed you on the cheek and set the baby on his lap to watch the Little Mermaid, wishing that he'd have forever, he snuggled closer to your side, hoping for a miracle but knowing it probably wasn't going to come.

December 25th, 2016 (59 days before) When you were little, you remembered waking up as early as you could to open your presents, but as you grew older, it became nicer and nicer to sleep in as late as possible. Usually, you could, Lin was someone who liked his sleep, but this Christmas, Ari had kept you both awake all night with a fever and a cough and since you were already up you decided to do Christmas early before the rest of the world was awake.

For hours it was just you, Lin, and the baby, watching Christmas movies together on the couch while outside the sun began to rise over the George Washington Bridge.

Later when your house was filled with rowdy nephews and both pairs of parents, the opening of the actual presents began while everyone munched on the cookies that were made with loving care by Abuela the night before.

And as everyone sat around the Christmas tree Lin realized that this might be the last time his whole family was together like this before what was probably his death. Lin hugged the nephew sitting on his lap a little tighter, and as everyone was leaving, he made sure to let them know how much he loved them.

December 31st, 2016 (53 days before) The clock ticked steadily closer to midnight on New Year's Eve, and for the first time in years, Lin wasn’t drunk out of his mind.     Instead of the loud music and dancing, the tone was decidedly quieter, but the apartment was still filled with some of your closest friends. Lin, Chris, and Tommy were out on the balcony watching the sky for the fireworks that were sure to come later, while you and Chris’s wife were trying to get the baby back to sleep because the noise of the ‘party’ had woken her up. Javi, Anthony, and Lac were just talking in the kitchen with a couple of beers, while “the Schuyler sisters” were playing a card game at the folding table a couple of feet away from you.

When you finally got the baby to sleep you placed her back to sleep in the crib, kissing her forehead before turning off the lights and shutting the door.

“Did you finally get her to sleep?” Lin asked out on the balcony after you walked out to join him. Staring up at the night sky, he tried not to imagine what New Years next year would be like. Last year he had enjoyed making resolutions for what his life would be like in this new year. He would never have imagined it would lead to 2 Tonys and a Grammy and his marriage to you and a baby. This year he just wanted to live longer than the time he was given.

As the time ticked closer to midnight, everyone from inside filtered out onto the balcony. Counting down the seconds, he pulled you closer to him and as the clock struck midnight he pressed a kiss to your lips.

February 20th, 2016 (2 days before) “You haven’t been to your parent’s house in ages, y/n,” Lin spoke, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sure they miss you and the last time they saw Aria was Thanksgiving. She has a tooth now, and she can roll over. When they were here last, she couldn’t really do much.”     “What’s brought this on honey? Are you trying to get rid of us.”

“Your mom called me and told me she missed you. She was so used to getting to see you all the time before we got married. Now she says she sees you maybe once a month.” He smiled at you before leading you over to the couch and taking your hands in his. “I won’t mind if you go, you know. I know you miss her too. Plus Chris and I were going to have a guy’s night out, so you wouldn’t be missing anything.” In Lin’s mind, he was torn between begging you not to go, because he didn’t want to die alone, and hoping that you would leave because he didn’t think he could live with the fact that you would watch him die.

Picking up the baby off the floor where she was lying on her back, he smiled at her as she reached over and tried to grab a handful of your hair. “Hi Ari,” you cooed at her.

“What if we leave tomorrow, early, and then maybe Ari and I will stay there for another day or two so that you and Chris can have that man day you’ve been talking about lately.”

Lin gave a sad smile, that ‘man day,’ you were talking about would probably just be him and Chris eating dinner and him trying to let Chris know how much he thought of him as a brother.

That night Lin held you as you slept, trying not to think of it as being the last time he would see you sleeping. One of the last times he would see you ever.

February 21st, 2016 (1 day before) Lin may have been the one who was trying to send away his wife and infant daughter away before what may as well be his death, but that doesn’t mean saying goodbye to them didn’t hurt. It was so very painful.

Your bags were packed and in front of the door before Lin had gotten out of bed in the morning, which wasn’t surprising. Lin hadn’t been sleeping very well as the months got closer to the end of his deal.

Before you left, he made sure to kiss both of you, you on the lips, Ari on the forehead, and told you exactly how much he loved you. “More than from here to the end of the universe and back.”

The rest of the day Lin spent getting his affairs in order. He took the box of DVDS that he'd hidden in the back of the closet and placed them on the dining room table along with his will and a note that as Lin had written, he’d burst into tears.

Y/N, I feel like knowing this was going to happen beforehand should have prepared me for the thought of never seeing you again. After all, I did this for you and Ari without this the both of you would have been in a grave and I just couldn’t live with that. My heart doesn't want to believe it's true, but no matter what my heart believes, know that I love you with every fiber of my being and that as my time grows closer that it's the only thing keeping me from falling apart. I love you from the end of the universe and back. Lin

Lin tried as hard as he could to be the person who no matter the circumstance was always smiling, but eating lunch with his best friend hours before was something that he couldn’t quite shake.

Chris noticed that Lin was acting strange around halfway through lunch and started watching him, making mental notes on how he was acting to talk to you about later. Something was wrong with Lin and although it was probably due to what happened to you last year he needed to know what was wrong with him so the both of you could fix it. Lin telling him that he loved him like a brother as they were leaving the restaurant made alarm bells go off in his brain but by the time he had processed what he’d said Lin was too far away to go after.

As the day went on Lin grew more and more fidgety, and if someone on the street had happened to bump into him, he probably would have snapped.

He found himself in Central Perk in the minutes before midnight, the howls of dogs close by. Taking out his phone as the sound moved closer, he called you, but it went straight to voicemail. “I love you and Ari more than anything in this life. Please. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

As the clock ticked over to midnight, the howls increased all of a sudden and then there was the pain. So much more than he would’ve imagined before and then he felt nothing.

February 22nd, 2016 You got the call telling you something had happened at 3 in the morning, and before you knew it you were on the way to the hospital though when you arrived and spotted Chris you knew something had happened.

"No." you whispered, hanging onto Chris because at this point he was the only thing keeping you upright.

"What happened?" you heard Chris ask as you dissolved into sobs.

"It looks to be some sort of animal attack, certainly something we've never seen before this far into the city."

Of course, it would be Lin's luck that the week you were visiting your parents would be the week that there'd be a pack of wild animals roaming the city.

As the minutes passed the tightness in your chest refused to let up. It would probably never let up. For the rest of your life, you'd be dealing with the grief of your husband dying.

Your mother called a couple of minutes later having heard you rush out the door in a frenzy after you had gotten the call. You couldn't talk to her, so Chris took over. He guided you to a chair and then explained what had happened to your parents trying to stop himself from crying in the process. When he was done, he took you home, neither of you noticing the box or papers on the dining room table.

Curling up in bed with one of Lin's shirts you cried until you fell asleep and then cried some more, barely eating.

February 27th, 2016 (5 days after) It had been almost a week since what had happened to Lin, and it was as if a fog had descended on your life and your daughter was the only thing that let you breathe. Even at four months her smile and personality was so much like her fathers, and you knew that eventually the two of you would heal together.

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