#earlier this week (same spiral) just giving it time helped but man. it's frustrating

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

girl the confession compulsions

[yanderart]

Another installment in my yandere pov series, and inspired by a few anon requests I got to paint dabi. 

Below the cut, as customary, is a one-shot I wrote for the backstory behind the portrait (Dabi x reader, 3k, dark themes). Hope y’all enjoy 🖤

Tws: nsfw, noncon, hinted kidnapping, inner turmoil. Overall nastiness.

   Staring at the marred back of the man lying beside you, eyes following the billowing pattern of his scars, it was easy to pretend you two were just another couple sleeping side by side. Pretend that you weren’t in a ratty motel room hidden away from the world, on a mattress that creaked with any slight shift of movement, and with the bitter taste of fear resting below your tongue.

   Pretend that he loved you, just like you loved him. Fantasize that it wasn’t the type of complicated infatuation corroded by trauma filled pasts, by bitterness and the phantom of brokered trusts.

  But then Dabi turned, the hitch in his breath warning you of his now alert state, and when his cobalt eyes held your stare all illusions were promptly shattered. Wishful words died on your lips before they even had the chance of being born, the frown on his face deepening as his arms circled around you, drawing you close.

   You tried to leave your mind blank then as he pressed your face into his chest, wishing it was easier to tune him out while he muttered lazy words against the shell of your ear. 

   “What happened, Princess?”, Dabi’s sluggish smile dragged the corner of his mouth upwards, making you feel the unmistakably texture of his metallic staples digging into the side of your face, “Are you lonely?”, He was mocking you, of course, and yet it was hard to not identify the hopefulness that hid behind his jest. 

   A hopefulness that went hand to hand with his need, with the sharp line of his body enveloping you and a rapidly hardening length heating up your lower abdomen. 

   A tremble shook you, prompting you to curse beneath your breath as a low chuckle was drawn from the man holding you. 

   “Or were you cold?”, and he was still teasing you, elated in your humiliation. 

   Because you were naked in his grasp, without even a blanket to aid you or any other heating present in the musty motel room. He had refused you any covers from day one, taking away what little you owned in terms of clothing and citing the fact that you needed not hide away from his glare. But you knew the truth behind his meager explanations, the reasons why he so rejoiced in seeing you exposed and trembling.

   In the death of winter, with the cold biting at your skin and the air feeling suffocating in its humidity, he was your only source of warmth.

   It became impossible not to let out a reluctant sound of relief as he dragged his palm through your sides, heating up your skin with languid movements. Although you were luckily way past the point of feeling any embarrassment at your own willingness to stop the cold, past the point of blaming your body for reacting in the way your captor had conditioned it to do so. 

   “Want me to warm you up, then”, Dabi muttered now at the base of your neck, his breath hot and almost painful as it grazed your nearly frozen skin, “Princess was so cold she couldn't even wait for me to wake up on my own, is that it?” 

   He wasn’t even expecting an answer at that point, just talking for his own sake as your shaking became even more pronounced, getting off on forcing you to hear whatever sadistic taunts his mind provided. Unwittingly pressing yourself against him as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp (dumb girl, should’ve known better than to think you would ever get away), by the time you felt the twitching of his bulge against your stomach it was too late to try and pull back. 

   His hands were pressing you down from the small of your back before you had a chance to think of voicing any discomfort, his sarcastic laughter turned into a low rumble as he proceeded to roll his own hips into you, angling you with ease so that he was pushing against a much more sensible spot lower down.  

   With your face away from him, it was too late for you to trick yourself into zoning things out. All you could see was the dirty mattress you were forced to lay on as he continued to mutter against your pulse, the rough texture of nails diving into your flesh as he coaxed you into following his movements, setting a cadence for you both as he continued to rut into you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

   All you could feel was the disgust climbing from your gut, the burning sensation of tears you hadn’t been able to shed since your very first few weeks with Dabi. 

   “I’ll warm you up, baby”, he was whispering as one of his hands crept up your stomach, tickling your ribs with its blazing touch and making you wonder if you were about to get marked again. He sounded so utterly pleased with himself, so absolutely content, that your mind was quick to conjure up images of blue flames licking at your flesh, of the barely fading scars that littered your entire body. 

   He took one of your breasts into his grasp then and snapped you away from your lingering memories, kneading it slowly, almost carefully, before his fingers made contact with the sensible bud of your nipple. Again, it would’ve been so easy to get lost in that sensation, in that revering touch, if your circumstances didn’t make it anything short of horrifying.

   (But you were warming up already, weren’t you? Your cunt reacting despite the disgust and horror you proclaimed, slick gathering as it greedily prepared for the impending intrusion. What a liar you were, Princess.)

   He continued his lethargic rhythm as his fingers toyed with your chest, teasing himself (teasing you both), before taking his other hand away from your lower back. You were trained enough not to try getting away from Dabi by that point, knowing better than to fight the inevitable, but it was still hard not to feel shame bubbling back up as you found your own hips stuttering down to meet his out of reflex.  

   In his hands, your own body became the deadliest weapon he could wield against you.

  (Yet you’re enjoying this, you like this. Therefore, you must like him too, right?)

   His now vacant arm slid up until he was roughly grasping your jaw. He angled your face down to stare into his gaze, into his scarred face and parted lips that morphed into a perfect picture of lust riddled reverence. And seeing the longing in those orbs was far crueler than all of his jests, all of the degradation and threats. Far scarier, too. 

   “Kiss me, Princess”, he commanded then, his stern voice almost succeeding at hiding away an eagerness you knew lurked beneath. 

    And you did, because you knew the consequences you’d otherwise face. You dived down to capture his lips in a mechanical way, moving dispassionately (or that’s what you tried telling yourself, as in denial as you were) until he took over. Much in the same way he had coached your hips earlier, the hand in your jaw instructed you with light movements until a pleased sound left the back of his throat. 

   “So willing for me”, he praised in a hushed tone as he briefly broke away, voice grave and dripping with desire. 

    And just like before, it wasn’t long before he decided you were well enough accustomed to the action, and then the grip holding your jaw was once more moving downwards, his scorching touch now merely tickling you as a palm pressed against your stomach, massaging your flesh as it continued its path to the same place his thrusts were directed at. 

   Your breath caught in your throat then, eyes closing as you tried to preemptively contain your emotions. 

   Dabi did not appreciate that. 

   “Look at me”, he uttered with a dark edge, a heavy order to loom over your quivering shoulders. 

   But you kept your eyes tightly shut, feeling fingers snaking between your legs and tracing the outside of your cunt as they quickly became dampened by the wetness gathering there. The squelching sound of his digits dipping inside your folds only made you cringe further, so focused as you were into keeping immobile and quiet. 

   You wanted to disappear. (You wanted to open your eyes and moan).

   Confronted with your tenacious refusals to comply, one of his fingers made its way to your hidden nub as a response, proceeding to mercilessly rub against it before he gave you any time to become accustomed. The spiralling stimulation made it difficult not to visibly shake. There was nothing teasing or slow about his movements, unrefined and harsh, yet you thought you could feel Dabi’s frustration at your stubbornness through that touch alone. 

   “Look at me before I decide that just humping your needy cunt won’t do”, he threatened, his own words breathless and hoarse.

   Which did give you a moment of trepidation as you tried and failed at ignoring his assault on your body. Your hands were now clenched into fists against his chest, nails digging into your own flesh while his fingers delved deeper inside you. They stretched you in a way which felt uncomfortably pleasant, quickly finding your tender spots in a practiced manner. 

   “C'mon, you don't have to make it harder. You've been so good for me lately, so sweet", and despite the terrible nature of his words, the slight softening of his tone had a terrible effect on you. 

   His words scared you, terrified you, and yet the backhanded compliment only made you more lightheaded, helping the unwilling pressure steadily building up due to his quick and nimble fingers. 

   You didn't notice his face getting closer, his breaths coming in hot puffs against the skin of your tender neck, but you did feel his lips as they closed against the crook of it, his teeth as they scrapped carelessly before claiming that same spot in a painful show of dominance. 

   You were trembling now despite a part of you still commanding your eyes shut. Inside you, his digits felt warm, so filling already, and you couldn’t help clasping around them despite your attempts at ignoring any unwanted excitement. 

  (Were you seriously going to cum on the fingers of your captor? Of the man whose face now plagued your nightmares, whose voice never left your conscious mind? My, my, what a hypocrite of a whore you were.)

   “Mine”, you thought you heard Dabi whisper as his love bites continued littering your skin “My princess.”

   And wasn't it fitting, how his awful nickname for you was the last thing you heard before his fingers achieved their goal. Two of them were slamming in and out of you, filling the room with horrible wet noises that you had unsuccessfully been trying to tune out, and a third one still insistently toyed with your clit. 

   It was fast, it was relentless, and your eyes were shooting open without your permission as a choked moan finally escaped your tightly shut mouth. You shook while you came, opening your fists against your assailant's chest and trying to ignore the pungent taste of shame as you found purchase on his shoulders instead. 

   From the back of your conscience, still overwhelmed by the shots of pleasure shaking your core (by his fingers that hadn't stopped for a second, insisting on accompanying you through your orgasm), you thought you heard a satisfied hum coming from the man holding you. 

   And as the pleasure numbed slowly, as the sensations turned painful while he refused to leave your oversensitive sex, Dabi was finally exiting the cover of your neck and his cerulean eyes were finding yours again. 

   There was a satisfied smirk in his lips, his expression almost soft if it weren’t for the hidden glimmer you had learned to tell apart.

   “Now, now”, he cooed at you as he continued to force your body into overstimulation, sobs fighting to exit your throat now instead of the unsolicited moan from earlier, “I knew you’d be good. You always listen to me now after all, don't you, Princess", his other hand had started kneading your other breast, left neglected until now, and your body was so unbearably hot by that point that you would have gladly welcomed back the terrible winter cold, “You'd do whatever I ask of you, wouldn’t you?”

   It was hard to think, hard to respond as the last vestiges of your pride still leaked out of you and facilitated his relentless attack on your flesh. Your nipple was being pinched roughly, only adding to the pain of being overstimulated.

   (But you were feeling It again, right? The tell-tales of your arousal awakening for a second time. So eager to please him, to be obedient despite whatever objections you claimed to harbor). 

   Another tug at your chest, this time nails lightly digging in, and you were slapped out of your dazed state into answering with rushed words. 

   “I'll do whatever you ask, Dabi”, your voice felt foreign to you, so small, so docile, “but make it stop. Don’t...”, a sound resembling a cry fought its way out through your sentence, one which neither of you knew if it was from discomfort or a pleasure quickly gearing its head back up, “make it stop, please.”

   He was so fucking satisfied to hear your meek little pleads again then, relishing on them like a man starved after so long of your stubborn refusals to speak. To his ears, it sounded like the chorus of heavenly angels descending from the heavens to reach him. He, who if there even was such a thing as Heaven, would be better fit for the scorching flames down below. 

   And that's when you felt it again, the threat of his now bare cock coming to rest against your pussy. It was a tentative probe, almost clumsy without hands to aid him in his search, and his fingers did not ease their assaults for even a second as you tried not to feel betrayed.

   (But did you really believe he would keep his word? That he'd just hump you like an eager virgin when he knew the alluring slickness waiting to hug him, to welcome him back? You were even dumber than you looked.)

    “I know I promised", he admitted while you felt his warm erection pressing slightly, teasingly, against your slit, your own body starting to reach its second cusp without the time to even completely get down from the first, “but you took too long this time, Princess. You were being such a brat…”

   And it was almost poetically ironic, how your second orgasm hit as his fingers relented and his cock finally entered you in their place. It stretched you in a way which was no longer painful but filling (it didn’t make you cry, having you fruitlessly trying to find anything to ground yourself to as it tore you apart. Not anymore anyways). You sighed and moaned while being stuffed full, finally giving in despite any apprehension, and your pussy took him in and hugged him tight as a response. It distracted you from the shame, the guilt, the remorse, and before long your keening was filling the room with its eagerness. 

   “Maybe next time”, he kept groaning against your ear, now both hands going down to grab at the supple globes of your ass, persuading your pliant body into follow the rhythm he was easily setting, “if you're better then, if you…”, even for him it was becoming harder to talk, entranced as he was by the welcoming hold of your inner walls, “if you don't wake me up, if you aren’t so needy. Maybe then, fuck.”

   You were still cumming as his halfhearted promises mingled with his excuses, as he became lost in his own pleasure, in using you as he saw fit. And, lost as you were in the sensations, you were foolish enough to think them true for a moment.

   Maybe next time, you repeated to yourself as his thrust become frantic. His grip on your ass turned painful as he lost sight of the force he was using, his palms heating inadvertently and your skin sizzling below them. You'd have more marks once all was said and done, more patterns to add to your growing collection. 

   Maybe next time he woke up he'd let you go. Maybe he'd finally understand love was not a prison nor a leash. Maybe next time he would ask for your forgiveness, understanding all the trauma and horror he was forcing you to endure. 

  (Or maybe you'd be the one asking for penance, kneeling in front of him and finally seeing him in the way he so desired. Maybe you would start understanding the dimension of his efforts then, of his love for you that he knew not how to show otherwise. A love that scared him as much as it damaged you.)

   As his hoarse moans mingled with your own, you were too drunk on your own fantasies to even attempt to squirm away before he was filling you up with his seed, your walls still convulsing around him as your body stayed attentive, pliant and tender. His lips were kissing you, licking you in poor attempt at providing comfort, and yet you felt a hopeful smile turning the corners of your lips ever so slightly. 

   So many things could happen next time. And anything would be better than this, right? Feeling his cum coating your insides as a litany of nonsense left Dabi's mouth, his softening cock refusing to leave and allow any drop to leak out. Anything had to be better than being owned, being conquered. 

   (So naïve you were, the only person you had gotten good at convincing was your damn self.)

   “Love you, princess", his head was buried in your neck again, his favorite place in your body to hide in while he slowly rocked you both, “so fucking much.”

   And in his own twisted way, as much as you wanted to fight and argue, you didn't doubt his words. Such a twisted love it was, but unquestionable in his burning desire. 

   Even as it charred you to a crisp, leaving nothing but ashes behind and deadlier than anything his quirk might subject you to. 

   Dabi loved you, his sweet little princess, and maybe if you weren't so stubborn you could start loving him back. 

****

Probably the longest one-shot I've posted alongside a portrait so far, since I'm still getting comfortable with the length of my writings (still cant believe people read and enjoy these lol). And special thanks to my pals @reinawritesbnha, @coyambition and @snappysnapo for lending me a pair of eyes before posting 🖤 love y'all !

🥀 Requests/Suggestions OPEN 🥀

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Three

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: tw for abuse mention. i hope this chapter is readable bc a lot of it was written when i should've been sleeping.

***

“...expecting heavy snow, possibly even a snowstorm, by the end of the week.” The TV blares softly in the background as Nesta types away on her laptop propped on the arm of the couch. The fireplace is up and crackling, and Cassian has to stop in the threshold between kitchen and living room to take in the scene. He’s getting a little too used to this, he worries sometimes. She’ll be gone as soon as her apartment is fixed, he reminds himself, and pushes off the wall to circle the couch and approach Nesta.

He sets the steaming mug of coffee down on the table before her and takes a seat beside her. She doesn’t even stop typing as she glances up and murmurs a “thank you” before returning to her paper.

Cassian doesn’t want to interrupt her work, so he settles into the comfortable habit of watching her. They watch each other a lot— Nesta claims it’s because she’s bored and there’s nothing else to look at. Cassian has no such delusions.

She’s in a wool sweater and thick leggings today. Her hair is pulled back in a worn braid and her glasses are pushed all the way up her nose, but what catches Cassian’s attention tonight is the way her baby hairs escape her braid and frizz around her temples. Yesterday it was the way her cheeks flushed in the firelight, and the day before it was those damn glasses. Today it’s baby hairs.

The fantasy is quick and sneaky, there in his mind before he’s even aware of it.

Getting up to sit on the floor before her. Nudging her legs apart with slow hands while her fingers stutter over the keyboard. Pushing the hem of her sweater up, and pulling her leggings down. “Focus on your work,” he says when she tries to push her laptop away. “Finish your paper for me.” Tracing the inside of her thighs with his lips until his head is right—

The slam of a laptop snaps Cassian out of it. Nesta makes a frustrated growl and rubs her hands across her face before shoving her laptop aside to reach for the coffee.

He raises a brow, endlessly amused by everything she does. “Writing troubles?”

“I deserve a break,” she grumbles.

“I could help with that.”

Tucking her feet beneath her legs, Nesta ignores him and gestures at the TV with her chin. “Think we’ll get snowed in?”

Cassian almost hopes so. Any excuse to build more fires and stay inside with Nesta. “I’ll have to make a shopping trip,” he says casually. “You want anything?”

“I want to be in a state where there aren’t blizzards in October.” She looks over at him. “I miss Tennessee.” It’s a simple admission that brings Cassian to attention. She never gives out details about herself unprompted.

“I didn’t know you still got homesick.” Feyre never talks about her childhood in Tennessee. The only indicator of the Archeron sisters’ pasts is Elain’s sweet little Southern belle accent, which Cassian has a feeling is more for show at this point than anything else.

Nesta shrugs awkwardly in response, but he keeps going. “Rhys’s mom had a summer house in the Smokies. We would go down there each year without fail until college.” Rhys thinks it was fate that the summer home was so close to the small mountain town where Feyre grew up. Cassian thinks that’s a stretch.

“Yeah?” Nesta sips her coffee. “Have you gone back since?”

He shakes his head. “Rhys and Feyre are renovating it right now. You should come vacation with us when it’s done.” He perks up at the sudden idea.

Nesta gives him that familiar weird look from the corner of her eye. “Mm-hm,” she hums noncommittally.

“I’m serious,” Cassian insists. “We could have fun.” He’s already imagining it, getting to show Nesta around the place he grew up. Hearing what she has to say about the rocks and corners he would hurt himself on when he played with his brothers, maybe even hearing about her childhood in the Smokies. But Nesta looks stuck, unsure of how to turn him down.

“It doesn’t sound like a good idea,” she states finally. “I wouldn’t be welcomed there, and I would be the odd outlier the entire time at best.”

Cassian already knows Nesta has no interest in getting friendly with the rest of Feyre’s friend group, and he can respect that. But he still wants her there.

“You wouldn’t have to hang out with everybody there,” he says. “You’d have me and your sisters. That’s three whole people.”

She looks surprised at that. “Since when did I have you?”

Oh. Cassian shrugs. “We’re friends, right? I like you, so you have me.”

She straightens even further at that. He continues without waiting for her reply. “That’s why I want you to vacation with us. I like you, and I’d like having you there.”

Nesta sits back against the couch, staring at him, and then her coffee, then him. “This is new,” she finally says.

Cassian is lost. “What is?”

She considers for a moment, chewing her lip. “I’ve had people say they love me,” she says slowly, “but I don’t think anyone has ever liked me very much.”

The words are so incomprehensible that Cassian just sits there like a fool. She’s making even less sense than when she told him she used to come around to Feyre’s all the time and he never noticed. “I don’t get it. Who doesn’t like you?”

Nesta frowns deeply. “Don’t make me come up with a list. It’s not nice.”

Cassian might need a list, because he wants to have words with these people. “Okay, then. Why wouldn’t anybody like you?”

Nesta’s eyes narrow into a glare and she scoffs like he just said something offensive. “Jesus, I don’t know. Why don’t you call up my ex and ask if you care so much?” She sets her empty mug down and stands up, gathering her laptop and notes as she goes.

Cassian doesn’t know what he said wrong. “Wait, Nes—”

“Thanks for the coffee, I’m going to finish my work in my room.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and speedwalks out of the room, ignoring Cassian’s calls to wait.

***

Cassian can’t sleep that night knowing Nesta is upset with him. He tried knocking at her door when he came upstairs an hour after Nesta had, but the lights were off and he received no reply. Now in bed, he listens to the howl of late autumn wind outside and goes over everything Nesta said earlier.

She misses Tennessee. She feels that nobody likes her. She has an ex that definitely doesn't like her.

It's the last two details that bother Cassian the most. He’s about to spiral into another hour of overthinking when his phone lights up on the nightstand.

Subconsciously thinking it's a text from Nesta, his hand shoots for his phone. He has to smother his disappointment when he sees it's only Feyre checking in.

Feyre: how are things going with nesta? is she causing u any trouble?

Maybe he’s still upset about his conversation with Nesta, but the text rubs him the wrong way. Nesta sounds like a pet or a rowdy child.

Cass: not at all. she’s perfect

He quickly erases that last word and hesitates, trying to think of another one.

she’s lovely wonderful great. He settles on great and clicks send.

A reply pops up a few seconds later.

Feyre: lmao sure

Cassian frowns at his phone. What’s that supposed to mean?

Another text appears: just tell me if you need anything and i’ll take care of it. i know this isnt easy.

What isn’t easy? Having a roommate? Cassian replies, We don’t need anything, we’re fine. He uses capitalization and everything, feeling offended for some reason. And then, not really wanting to see a reply from Feyre, he turns his phone off and leaves it facedown on the nightstand.

He shuffles deeper under the covers and pushes his friend out of his mind, thinking about ways to make up with Nesta tomorrow instead.

***

Nesta stays up all night berating herself for how she reacted to Cassian’s innocent question. She wasn’t expecting him to pry for details because no one ever pries into her life, and she freaked out instead of rationally assessing the situation.

A part of her is satisfied now, having seen this coming from a mile away. It happens with everyone she meets, when she says or does something wrong and inevitably pushes them away. Maybe she should keep pushing him away, and keep him at arm’s length for the rest of her time here.

A larger part of Nesta is embarrassed at having caused a scene, and worse, mentioning Tomas. Because that’s exactly where her mind went when Cassian asked that question— to the man who used to say he loved her, but who never truly liked her. Intrusive memories from years past attack Nesta until the sky outside turns a light gray: dressing up for fancy business events and having his arm wrapped around her waist in an illusion of affection. Him pinching her side hard enough to make tears spring to her eyes when nobody was looking and leaning into her ear to lovingly whisper everything wrong with her that night. Going home and having makeup sex.

She’s still flustered from Cassian and can’t keep the thoughts out as well as usual. When she finally does drift off into a restless imitation of sleep, it’s by holding her thumb to her wrist until the steady beat of her pulse soothes her worn nerves.

Nesta wakes up cramping.

It takes her a few moments to pull out of the fog of sleep and recognize the feeling, and she groans aloud. This can’t be happening to her right now.

She was stupidly hoping that her period would hold off until she moved back into her apartment. Her premenstrual cramps are telling her she has two days at most.

She refuses to go through that experience in the same house as Cassian. Her family doesn’t even like being in the same house as her when she’s on her period. Her ex would outright leave their apartment and stay at a friend’s until she got over it. So this…

She groans once more and pulls herself out of bed. A quick phone check tells her it’s only been three hours since she fell asleep, but she’s given up at this point.

Nesta tiptoes hesitantly out of her room, not wanting to face Cassian just yet. It’s only when she reaches the stairs that she realizes the house is unusually quiet, even though it’s almost eleven.

Frowning, Nesta pads into the kitchen to find two things: a covered dish sitting on the island and a green sticky-note stuck to the fridge. She goes for the note first.

In messy handwriting it reads: Went out for groceries. Text me if you need anything. Beneath the words is a dark, almost furious scribble of ink, as if Cassian had written something there only to forcefully scratch it out.

Without overthinking it, she gets out her phone and texts Cassian that she needs pads. It only occurs to her after she’s sent the message that that’s probably not enough information.

Having Cassian know Nesta is on her period is one thing, but him knowing the size of her pad? The heaviness of her flow? She might need to enforce that rule about him never speaking to her again.

In her best attempt to not be viewed as a walking blood gusher, she asks for a smaller size pad than usual and turns her phone all the way off so she can’t see any replies.

Once you’re out of this house you’ll never have to see him again, so it won’t matter if you’re the rude bitch who cried and bled a lot while she was staying at his place.

Going over to the kitchen island, she uncovers the plate she assumes is for her. She isn’t expecting anything much, maybe Cassian’s leftovers from breakfast, so she hesitates when she sees a full stack of chocolate chip pancakes. Carefully decorated with berries and syrup, they’ve long gone cold, but— still.

Nesta reaches out as if they might not be real, or not meant for her, but nothing happens. Mouth tightening, she snatches the plate and grabs a fork.

Cassian comes in through the kitchen door twenty minutes later, long after Nesta’s cleaned off her food and washed the dishes in the sink. He throws her a smile as he shakes snow out of his hair and sets down the bags of groceries on the island by Nesta’s laptop.

“Oh, is it snowing already?” She throws a concerned glance outside, not having noticed while she was working.

“It’s light for now, but it won’t be for long.” He starts taking off his coat, and Nesta gets up to help with the groceries. She quickly finds the bag holding her stuff and discreetly sets it aside, but then Cassian grabs another bag and upturns it, its contents sprawling all over the island. “I don’t know what your period’s like, but we’re gonna be snowed in for a while so I got some of everything just in case.” He looks hesitant.

“Oh— thank you,” she says, overwhelmed. There’s three different types of painkillers, all that she already owns, and ten different types of junk food. And they're all for her. Nesta plucks up a package, stunned. “How are gummy worms supposed to help me on my period?”

Cassian leans his elbows on the marble and shrugs. “They’ll make you happy.”

“I’m allergic to gelatin.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

But Nesta just places the gummies in front of him and starts sorting the rest of the stuff. All the chocolates end up on her side, and the candies and gum and hot chips on Cassian’s side. When she's done, she finds him watching her closely. “Did you want some chocolate?” She offers out a Twix bar, her favorite. “I can trade you.”

“Uh, sure.” He accepts her Twix in exchange for his Hot Cheetos.

Silence ensues as Nesta tears open a Toblerone package and breaks off a triangle of nougat, when she remembers she has to tell him something.

“Thank you.” Her words are out of place and out of nowhere, spoken during the wrong time mark of a film and ruining the rhythm of the scene. Despite this, she powers on. “Thank you for breakfast, but also for this. Thank you for everything, really.”

Cassian perks up. “Did you like breakfast?”

Nesta nods through a mouthful of chocolate. “Chocolate chip pancakes are my favorite, and you’re good at making stuff.”

He raises a dark brow. “You mean cooking?”

“Same thing.”

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.”

Nesta slumps in relief, thinking her necessary talking points are over with. She's thanked him for shopping and for breakfast. What more could be— damn.

She clears her throat, even though she doesn't know what to say yet. She won't apologize— she doesn't know if she's physically capable of it, to be honest, but she can still seem regretful.

“Are we over last night?” she says bluntly. So much for regretful.

Cassian seems startled that she's even brought it up, which is perhaps a good sign that he already forgot about it. “Of course,” he says. “Nesta, I really didn't mean to offend you—”

Oh god, he’s not over it. “Don't apologize,” Nesta demands, throwing her hands up to ward him off. “You didn't even do anything, why would you apologize?”

“Well, you looked upset,” he says seriously. Cassian’s apologetic face looks an awful lot like hurt, though Nesta doesn't know why he would possibly feel hurt. Still, she has to pin her stare to the dark cabinets so he can't hurt her in turn. He keeps talking. “I know I promised to push your boundaries, but I never want to hurt you.”

His sincerity is more than disarming; it makes her ache.

“And I hated not talking to you last night.”

That gets Nesta's attention, and she suddenly feels two things at once: a swoop of joy that he likes talking to her, and a heavy drop of guilt that she ignored him all last night, even when he knocked on her door and apologized profusely.

“I fell asleep early,” she decides to lie. “I wasn't ignoring you.”

Cassian smiles softly and reaches out to brush a thumb over the tired circles under her eyes. “I can tell,” he says.

She's gone dead still, but she doesn’t flinch. She doesn't even want to flinch. Cassian clears his throat and drops his hand, and Nesta’s eyes follow him closely. “We’re good,” she says in finality. “Let’s go back to normal now.”

Cassian nods, his face carefully blank. “Okay. Then stop stuffing your face and help me with the rest of the groceries.” He moves off the island and elbows her on the way.

That makes Nesta smile, which makes Cassian smile even harder, and just like that, they’re back to normal.

***

a/n: two things: 1) cassian definitely texted feyre that morning and asked what nesta’s favorite breakfast was, and 2) can you tell im in love with writing nesta archeron?

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08

[mermaidsneedwater]

you take care of him

⇒ jaebeom

As Jaebeom got up from your dining table he winced. His lower back had been bothering him for the past few days, but he refused to say anything being the stubborn person he was.

You stood up and took the plates out of his hand, “Okay, that’s it. Go to our room.”

“What?” He asked, confused at your reaction.

“You heard me, go and wait. I’ll be there in a little bit.”

Surprised at your commanding tone, he complied with your order and headed to the bedroom.

Soon, you entered with what looked like oil. “Take off your shirt.”

Raising and eyebrow he smirked, “Yes ma’am.”

“Easy there old man.” You said holding a hand out against his bare chest. “We’re not doing anything. I’m going to give you a massage.”

“For the record, I’m not old.” He responded, laying on the bed.

“Says the twenty-five year old with back problems.” You teased.

You moved to the side of him on the bed and poured a little lavender oil in your hand. “I read that this relaxes the muscles.”

You rubbed your hands together before spreading the oil on his back. Your hands working the area affecting him. You started with his shoulders before working to his lower back.

“Ahhh, that feels so good baby.” He said laying his head on the bedsheets. “Why didn’t I ask for a massage sooner?”

“I know,” you said, continuing to massage his back, “it’s almost as if sharing your problems with your girlfriend can actually help.”

“Ha ha Y/N.” Jaebeom said rolling his eyes. “I know I should’ve told you earlier.”

You tapped his shoulder to indicate you were done. As he rolled over on his back he propped himself on his elbows.

You crossed your arms, “Why didn’t you just tell me your back was bothering you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to admit I needed help.” He said, playing with one of his rings.

“I can’t keep playing guessing games with you. If you don’t trust me to help you with your problems then why are we even together?” You asked, hurt that your boyfriend couldn’t rely on you.

Moving himself closer to the end of the bed, Jaebeom brought you in between his legs, taking your hands in his. “It’s not that baby, it’s just me. I’m not used to having someone who cares about me so much in my life. I guess I’m still new to the whole relying on others thing.”

“Okay, just promise you’ll tell me if your back keeps bothering you.” You said, looking up through your eyelashes.

“After that massage? Absolutely.” He smiled.

“I’ll go draw you a bath.” You said shyly. You left his hand to go to the bathroom.

Quickly Jaebeom followed you to find you starting the bath. “Join me?”

“Fine.” You smiled slowly.

⇒ mark

As Mark turned on the light in your shared apartment, he was startled to find you sitting on the couch in the dark.

“Jesus, Y/N are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He said placing a hand over his chest. “You scared me, what are you doing up so late? It’s almost two o’clock.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, arms crossed. “Jinyoung told me what’s been going on.”

Oh crap. Groaning, Mark ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re barely eating Mark,” you stood up. “That’s why you barely have any energy. It’s why you fainted at practice today. Do you have any idea how scared I was when Jinyoung called me from the hospital?”

Mark made a mental note of killing Jinyoung after this conversation was through.

“I’ve just been–“

“So busy? Stressed? Why would you think that not eating was a good idea?” You finished his sentence teary eyed.

“It’s not that I don’t want to eat, every time I think I’m going to eat something I get anxious thinking about our comeback and I don’t feel hungry.” Mark said.

Walking over to him you took his face in your hands, “I don’t want anything bad to happen you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me babe.” He rested foreheads against yours.

“Why wouldn’t you call me when you were at the hospital today,” you looked at him, a tear rolling down your cheek, “did you think I wouldn’t care?”

“Oh baby,” His thumb wiping your tear away, “I just didn’t want you to be worrying about me.”

“I’m always worrying about you. I love you.” You replied.

“I love you too. And I’m sorry.” He said, as he hung his head. “I won’t do that to you ever again.”

Wiping your face with your hand, you let out a breath. “Good. Now come here.”

You took his hand and lead him to the kitchen.

“I made you food for the rest of the week. You can take it to work.” You said. “And I made you food for now, it’s not the most nutritious but I know you won’t be able resist.”

You took Mark’s favorite ramen out of the microwave and showed it to him.

“I want you to eat. I know I’m not the best cook but–“

You were cut off by the feeling of Mark’s lips against yours.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

⇒ jackson

“Y/N.”

You turned to see Jackson with his crutches in front of you in the kitchen.

“Jackson! You need to sit on the couch. The doctor said you have to keep your foot elevated.” You scolded, turning the stove off.

“I know, I know, but I feel lonely all by myself on the couch.” He said shyly. “I want to be with you,”

“Well, couldn’t you have waited 5 more minutes?” You said.

You walked towards him, taking his arm over your shoulder and helping him sit back down on the couch. You walked back to the kitchen to bring his crutches.

Recovery for his broken leg had taken longer that expected and Jackson was at his wits’ end. You did your best to take care of him physically, but mentally he was frustrated and drained.

“I hate this!” He groaned, frustrated at his lack of mobility. “I can’t even lay down without needing help.”

Silently, you helped him move his back on the couch so he could achieve his desired position.

“Thanks Princess,” He grumbled.

“Move over,” you told him.

You squished your way onto the couch so you could cuddle him. You watched him as he frowned, looking up at the ceiling.

“I love you.” You said sweetly. You didn’t outwardly express it to Jackson very often, so you knew when he heard it he’d melt on the spot.

Silence.

“Hey!” You lightly whacked his chest, looking up at him frowning.

“Ow! I just broke my leg woman, are you trying to break a rib too?” He exclaimed.

“You didn’t say it back!” You whined.

He looked at you blankly.

Shocked, you turned on your side to leave. “I can’t believe you, I’m goin–“

That’s when Jackson trapped you in his arms, laughing into your neck.

“Let me go.” You said, annoyed that he didn’t say it back to you.

“No.” Jackson held you harder.

“Jackson!” You replied agitated.

“I love you too.” He said, breathing into your neck. “Kiss me?”

Turning around you stuck your tongue out at him before slipping away and leaving the couch. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

Shocked, he struggled to sit up, “That’s just cold.”

⇒ jinyoung

“Jinyoung are you okay?” You asked, concerned he was still in bed. “Don’t you have work?”

“I asked if I could come in late today,” he explained, “come lie down with me sweetheart.”

“You’re feeling awfully snuggly today,” you remarked.

Shrugging, he patted the empty space on the bed next to him. You climbed in and snuggled into his chest. But when you put your head over his heart you noticed it was beating quite fast.

“Woah, your heart is beating so fast.” You sat up from your spot. You placed a hand over his heart, his hoodie obstructing the movement.

“You have that effect on me,” he smiled cheekily. His fingers softly trailed up and down your arm. As he watched you, you noticed he looked frail, his eyes weren’t crinkling like they usually did when he smiled like that.

“No this is different,” you frowned. Trying to get a better feel of his heart you moved your hand under his hoodie. “Yeah, it’s definitely fast. Do you feel okay?”

“I feel fine.” He tried to convince you, “don’t worry about me.”

Raising an eyebrow, you moved your hand to his forehead, “You’re warm. I’ll call JB and let him know you’re sick.”

“Y/N–“

“No, you’re not going in today.” You said sternly, getting out of bed you headed to the kitchen, “I’ll start making you some soup.”

A little while later you came back into your bedroom to find Jinyoung napping. You set the tray of soup down on his bedside table. Placing a kiss on his forehead, you slowly moved his shoulder to wake him up.

“I want you to eat something. Just have some soup and then you can go back to sleep.” You said softly.

Slowly, he sat up in bed as you moved the tray in front of him. With his hood still over his head, you fed him some soup. As he swallowed you waited for his reaction.

“Is it any good?” You asked.

“It’s perfect.” He replied. “Thank you Y/N.”

He leaned forward to tuck some stray hair behind your ear. His hand lingered on your cheek, “I love you. So much.”

Smiling, you left the spoon in his bowl for him to finish. “I love you too. Now hurry up and get better so I can kiss you.”

As he watched you leave, Jinyoung felt lucky. Not that he was sick, but that someone loved him so much to know when he was feeling under the weather, even when he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

⇒ youngjae

Youngjae was spiraling. That was the simplest way to put it.

“I can’t get the steps right. I’m in a senior group and I can’t get the steps right, I don’t deserve to be here. JYP has been wanting to kick me out for a while, I can feel it. And now he’s got the perfect opportunity to do it because I suck at the dance for this concept. I’ve let everyone down, the team, our managers, our fans, even you! I’m worthless absolute tr–“

“Darling? Just take a breath.” You tried to calm him down.

“In and Out.” You instructed him. “Just stop talking and breathe with me.”

Slowly he stopped talking and just focused on breathing with you.

“Good. This spiral is not you. It’s just your anxiety. You are talented and capable and worthy..” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Youngjae took a deep breath in, “you’re right.”

“Okay, now you’re going to back into the studio and you’re going to work with the choreographer and Yugyeom until you’re perfect. And don’t worry. You have time.” You said slowly.

“Okay, okay.” He said closing his eyes. “I’ve got this.”

“Yes you do,” you kissed his cheek, “now get in your car and get to work!”

⇒ bambam

“Can you stop doing that? It’s so annoying.” Bambam snapped at you.

In your entire relationship, Bambam was never the type to get angry, he was simply too carefree and young to be angry. So when you found him snapping at you on his day off, you knew something was up.

Wordlessly, you got up from the couch and headed to your room. When Bambam was feeling this way, most of the time it was best to give him space. Most of the time.

As you sat on your side of the bed and plugged in your headphones your heard a large crash. Quickly, you threw your phone on the bed and headed to the living room.

“Fuck.” Bambam cursed. You watched as bent down to pick up the pieces of the mug he’d dropped.

As he picked up the broken pieces of ceramic, you slipped on some shoes to avoid cutting your feet. You bent down and gently placed a hand over his.

“I got it.” You said.

Ignoring your statement, you watched as he kept picking it up, wincing at one piece.

“Oh damn.” He said holding up the finger he’d nicked.

“Let me help you.” You slowly stood up weigh him and had Bambam sit on the couch.

Leaving him there, you headed to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. Silently you came back to the living room and began sanitizing his finger before putting on a band aid.

Bambam watched you as you carefully patched up the cut.

“Thank you baby.” He said. “I’m sorry.”

Saying nothing, you leaned forward and engulfed him in a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, and you could feel something wet on your collar bone.

“I’m so sorry,” Bambam cried in your arms, “I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve you.”

Shushing him, you just let him cry. “It’s okay baby, I know you’re stressed.”

He pulled away from you and you sat on his lap. Holding his cheek you softly kissed him.

“Don’t push me away Bam.” You said, “I’m here for you.”

⇒ yugyeom

“Yugyeom this is the third time this week they’ve called you back! You’re supposed to be done with this.” You said as you watched your boyfriend gather his stuff to head back to work.

“I know but they keep having problems with my vocals. One of the producers accidentally deleted the files I recorded and now I have to go back to re-record.” He replied calmly.

“At 11 pm?!” You said, annoyed that your boyfriend was being overworked like this.

“Our comeback is scheduled for next month, if I don’t re-record this, everything will be pushed back.” He said. “I’m sorry jagi, I’ll make it up to you.”

You watched as Yugyeom headed out the door frazzled. This was so unfair.

The next night you heard Yugyeom’s phone ring at around 10 pm, as he laid sleeping in your lap you decided to see who was calling.

“Hello? Yugyeom? You need to comeback to the building, we’re trying to teach the back up dancers some of the moves and they just aren’t getting it.”

“Yugyeom is sleeping now, he can’t come.” You replied simply. You were not going to back down this time. No one worked harder than Yugyeom. There was a time and place for work and when he left the studio Yugyeom shouldn’t be required to go back in.

“Can you wake him up? It’s urgent.” The caller responded. “He needs to come here.”

That was enough to send you over the edge.

“What he needs is to rest. You guys have been calling back to work overtime for a quite a few days now, and he’s exhausted but he can’t say no. If you’re having trouble with the dance, call the choreographer.” You snapped. “If you guys call him back to work one more time after this, we’ll file a harassment case against you, got it?!”

“Understood.” The line went dead.

Looking at the phone you smiled to yourself, running a hand through his hair.

Unbeknownst to you, Yugyeom had woken up hearing you get upset on the phone. As you ran your fingers through his hair he smiled, he was so lucky to have you in his corner.

I love you Y/N, he thought to himself.

return to masterlist

[allmygyus]

＊*✩Unrequited Love✩*˚＊

can we talk? (34/?)

[ prev : masterlist : next ]

wordcount: 1,953 !! warnings: mentions of anxiety, a lil angsty 

You opened the door to and see Soonyoung standing with one hand in the pocket of his hoodie and the other holding a white plastic bag. He looked at you sullenly. You ignore the aching in your chest and reply with a blank stare and took a few steps to allow him to come inside. Although your feelings were still a mess, one thing was sure. You were upset with him. He took off his shoes and you walked away as he shut the door behind him. He placed the plastic bag on your kitchen counter and sat on the edge of your couch.

Soonyoung was a bit flustered and nervous because he knew he was at fault. He watched you sit behind your desk and continue to paint. Thoughts spiraled in his head. Should he approach you? Would you get angry at him if he disturbed you while painting? Should he just apologize and leave? How could he fix the gap between the two of you?

He cautiously stood up from the couch and made his way behind you. As he lifts his hand to tap your shoulder you speak.

“I said I didn’t want to talk to you,” you say with your back still facing him. You saw his reflection from the glass that held your paint brushes.

“Y/n I-,” he utters but was interrupted by you slamming your paintbrush on your desk, causing him to jump at the loud thud. He didn’t expect it to be this tough to make amends with you. Soonyoung so badly wanted to apologize and fix things with a hug. He also wanted to tell you why he reacted that way and how by the past few weeks he had developed feelings for you, but he couldn’t.

You took your earphones and shoved them in your ears playing loud music so that you couldn’t hear what he would say.You were being childish and you were aware of that but, it truly hurt you how one minute he would be the cause of butterflies in your stomach and migraines the next. It just made you more frustrated and confused.

Soonyoung stood behind you, debating in his mind about what his next move should be. He was growing frustrated as well, by your childish actions, but this time he was in the wrong so he had to subside the frustration that grew.

Soonyoung looked out the window and wondered if he should go home instead but saw the heavy snowfall and realized he had no choice but to stay here and wait for the snow to stop. He just couldn’t bare to be in the same room with someone who he really cared for but was on bad terms with. He just wanted to fix the mess he’s made.

You on the other hand just wanted to ignore him. Not just him but Mingyu as well, even though he wasn’t at fault. You figured that the less you interacted with them, maybe the clearer your thoughts and feelings would be, but it was hard to ignore the person who stood behind you. It was hard to ignore them both, actually. They were your best friends.

Soonyoung took a deep breath and sighed. He waited for you to put your paintbrush down and pick up your phone. Once you did, he pulled the earphones out of your ears and spun your chair around.

“What the hell?!” you yell as your phone was snatched from your hand.

“Listen, I can’t stand being in the same room right now and not talk to my bestfriend,” he bent over and put his hands on your knees.

“Okay, I’ll be in my room then,” you shoved his hands off and made your way to your bedroom.

Soonyoung grabbed your hand and pulled you away from your bedroom door and quickly pushed you to sit on the couch.

“Soonyoung, I swear to-“ you say as you stand up but was blocked by him sitting on your lap like a child. He was getting desperate and this was the only way he could keep you from moving. He sat on you as if you were Santa and he was a child about to tell you what he wanted for Christmas.

“I won’t get off until you listen and let me talk,” he said while clinging on your shoulders. As much as you pushed and shoved him, the man-child would not budge. His annoyingly proud smirk just made you more irritated yet you give in.

“Okay fine,” you cross your arms.

“Do you promise to stay here and listen?” you huff and nod in reply. It’s not like you had a choice anyways. He nodded, sat next to you and crossed his legs to face you. You do the same but kept your arms folded and head down.

“I’m sorry,” he placed a hand on your knee. You look up at him and tilt your head.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole and picking a fight with you,” he said genuinely. You unfolded your arms and listened to him.

“I was being that way because I was just stressed about the whole dance crew auditions and Seungcheol auditioning with the others. I spent the whole weekend thinking about what I should do and I just kinda wished you were at practice earlier today because only you can ease my mind. Not seeing you there just-,” he sighed and paused. “I was being an idiot that let out my anger on my best friend. I was wrong for that and I’m sorry.”

An uneasy silence filled the room as he waited for your reply.

“Yeah, you were an asshole,” you scoffed. “You know Soonyoung, you’re not the only one who’s going through things. I have a lot going on too but you don’t see me being an asshole to my friends.”

“I know, Kiddo-,” he says.

“I was having a rough day too! Heck, I’ve been having a hard time lately. Balancing my academic requirements with my other responsibilities! But I never lashed out on any of you!” you raise your voice.

“Y/n,” he placed his hands on yours, trying to calm you down but you shoved him aways again and stood up.

“God, Soonyoung! You have no idea what I’ve been going through,” you run your fingers through your hair and pace back and forth the living room. It was hard and it was the first time you had felt this much anxiety and anger altogether. From your undecided feelings to your never ending list of academic responsibilities. You chose this but couldn’t help but feel pressured. He stood up and faced you to listen to what you had to say.

“The last thing I needed was for you, my best friend, to get angry with me over a little misunderstanding,” you sigh.

To others it may seem like small bickering through chat, but for you it was a big deal; you were a sensitive person. You were never one to fight and argue with others, especially your best friends, and he knew. You weren’t the type of person to be mad too. Much like Soonyoung, you tried to stay cheerful despite everything else that happened in your life.

Being angry or upset was something you were not used to. It was out of your character and, most of the time, being angry would lead you into tears. When Soonyoung fought with you, you were at your breaking point. All the stress from your responsibilities and the frustration of developing feelings for two of your best friends just caused you to bottle it all up and deflect. Deflecting on your problems only made it worse. Your thoughts spiraled, the weight on your chest got heavier, and you were just out of it. You were thankful because when you were at Jihoon’s studio, you were able to relieve some of the bottled up emotions but a part of you still felt trapped. You weren’t able to release all the emotions and feelings that you had bottled up in front of them and you didn’t know why. Maybe because you cried first before you could tell them everything, you weren’t sure.

And now, you weren’t sure of what to say or do to the person in front of you.

“I know and I’m truly sorry,” he walks towards you. You stay still as he holds your hands. You chewed on your bottom lip and felt the lump in your throat form. No, not infront of Soonyoung. You knew that if you dared open your mouth, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying.

So instead you nod your head, telling him that you forgive him. He then quickly assesses the situation but hesitated.

“Y/n I- Are we- We’re okay now, right?”

You nod again in reply and he engulfs you in a warm hug. He figured that it wasn’t the right time to tell you how he felt. He just had to be there for you right now because he now knew about your other problems in life. His feelings for you was the least of his worries right now.

You on the other hand, while being embraced by Soonyoung’s arms, felt at peace. His arms provided a sense of comfort and serenity. Sinking deeper in his arms, you breathe out and the bottled up emotions were set free. Once the first tear fell, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. You sobbed in his arms and tightened your grasp on his jacket. The more you deflected on your problems, the more you felt trapped and the heaviness in your chest increased. As he stroked your hair while you cried, the heaviness was gone and you felt more like yourself again.

As he held you in his arms, he realized how he deeply cared for you. He wished that it was always him who would be the one to hold you while you cried and never again the reason for your tears. In that moment his arms squeezed you a bit tighter and despite the heaviness in his stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of your bodies so close together. Your touch made him feel warmer and more alive.

As your tears came to a stop he released you from his grip to have a look at your face. Puffy and red with swollen lips and eyes.

“Y/n,” he whispered and you look up at him. He sweeps the strands of hair that stuck to your face.“You look terrible.”

You let go and smack him in the arm as he bursts into small giggles.

“We just made up and you’re bullying me already?”

“I’m kidding,” he quickly pulls you back into his arms. The sudden action causing your heart to skip a little.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“I brought chicken,�� he let you go and walked to your dining area. “We can watch movies and eat if you want.”

You nod and he brings the plastic bag to your coffee table. The two of you spend the night talking, eating, and laughing with the movie was playing in the background. He told you his problems about the dance crew and how he decided to have Seungcheol and the others back. He wanted to move forward and maybe even make amends with them again. You tell him how Seungcheol would talk fondly about him and how the others felt bad about how their friendship ended. The two of you listened to each other tentatively the whole night as you shared your troubles, except for having feelings for each other of course, and eventually fell asleep on the couch together.

Summary: ⤑ Soonyoung, Mingyu, Seokmin and y/n. It’s always been the four of them and y/n wouldn’t have it any other way. Y/n loved the three of them but she loved one differently. It’s their third year of college and y/n’s been debating whether she would tell the one she loved how she truly felt but would it be worth risking their friendship over? Along the way she struggles to realize what it is she truly wants.

Pairing: ⤑college student y/n x ??

taglist: @sunshineshouchan @dy-mglzz @suhfluffy @muhanuibean @itsdnguyenxoxo @unmanageable-day @ash-moon8 @444wjh @fluffyhyeju @skylions-den @cheolright @monstathedisco @samemagicpoint

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 2)

This is the second chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform.

Feel free to write comments in the tags or send me messages about this. I love feedback!

16 and 14 years old

Pidge Gunderson. I am Pidge Gunderson.

Katie looked herself in the mirror, trying to convince her brain that the image reflected was hers, that it was a boy, with no previous links to the Garrison, someone who had wanted to go into Communications.

It didn’t really work. All she saw was Matt: his glasses; his short, unkempt haircut; his nickname for her.

Maybe it was better like this. Katie had initially meant to immerse herself in this new identity, to go so deep into Pidge Gunderson that no one would be able to see past the cover, but the truth still kept slipping through her defenses. Katie was a Holt and her family was missing, so she was gonna find them. Pidge was just a tool.

It would be easier if there weren’t so many risks in studying at the Garrison.

Her father hadn’t brought her around often, but Katie had become infamous among the night-time security for her excursions to discover sensitive information regarding the Kerberos mission. Iverson, in particular, was probably expecting a new advance on her part.

He hadn’t recognized her, yet.

Sometimes Katie worried that she’d already been exposed and that they were just gathering evidence before actually making a move against her. If the Garrison was willing to lie about her father’s and brother’s deaths, then she couldn’t overlook the possibility that corruption ran deep within the organization.

She sighed, tugging at the ends of her hair.

“Come on, Gunderson!” she heard someone shout from outside her door. “You’re coming to lunch with us whether you want to or not!”

Lance continued to make noises, probably talking to Hunk. They usually threatened to hack into her keypad if she didn’t come out to join them for meals. Katie couldn’t really understand their stubbornness. She might have appreciated their offer of friendship back in Middle School, when she’d felt ostracized by her peers, but now it was just another hazard to her already convoluted plan.

“Go bother some poor girl, McClain!” Katie shouted in response, feeling more inpatient than strictly necessary.

She knew that Lance meant well, but she didn’t have time for his hijinks. Katie had a duty to her family, first and foremost, and any effort spent placating her teammates was a waste in that regard. Not to mention that Lance had a knack for attracting attention that completely opposed her own need to remain unseen.

Her door slid open with an elegant swoosh.

Katie poked her head from the bathroom to glare at the two boys who stood there. Hunk had the sense to look ashamed, but Lance just grinned.

“It’s bonding time, Pidge!” He stepped into the room, arms wide open. His easy smile was the same as ever, despite the news they’d received earlier that day about their performance stats. It was probably why Lance was there, after all.

Katie actually felt a little bad about the whole thing. She wasn’t particularly invested in training as a communications officer and, though she wouldn’t say it affected her retainment of the knowledge demanded from her, it certainly translated into frustration when they were in the simulator.

She wasn’t much of a team player, Katie could admit.

“If you’re trying to get on my good side, this is not how to do it,” she grumbled, trying her best to keep her voice low. Too much of a change would eventually weight on her vocal cords or sound plain ridiculous, but a difference in pitch and speech patterns were certainly necessary to disguise her true identity. Thankfully, any slip up could be attributed to puberty, as she’d been seeing many of their male classmates endure the difficulties of cracking voices.

Lance took her by the shoulders and shook her indiscriminately. “Quit being the worst!” His cheerfulness hid the vexation that Katie knew he truly felt. “We’re having burgers today, so I’m not letting you bring us down.”

She snickered. Lance was notorious for his love of junk food, despite Hunk’s attempts to get them more nutritious meals. He frequently spoke about his mother’s cooking but didn’t seem to have that same interest in the dietary plan prepared by the Garrison.

Katie couldn’t really fault him for that. Their meals were usually so blend that they seemed to withdraw taste from any of the condiments added.

From behind Lance, Hunk had finally gathered enough courage to come in. He looked around in such false innocence that Katie might have believed him, hadn’t she caught him going through her drawers the previous week. That boy was nosy as hell.

Just another reason to keep them away.

“If I go with you to the cafeteria, does that mean I can get you out of my room?” She fixed them with a stony look.

“For a time,” Lance offered, all cheeky and bright and annoying.

Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, pulling his friend back from Katie. “We noticed you didn’t eat yesterday, again.” He sighed. “If you took better care of yourself, we wouldn’t come here so often.”

Katie let that reasoning sit with her for a bit. She usually sneaked granola bars and other less-perishable types of food into her room to eat while she worked, but it was true that she didn’t really sit for meals unless the boys pushed her. She didn’t think they would notice.

It brought a strange warmth to her chest. She’d felt cold for so long now, always at arm’s length from those around her. Her mother had tried, but she was grieving and her suffering filled her until there was no more room for her daughter. These small kindnesses had gone away with Matt.

She struggled not to reach into her pocket for the picture she kept of them. Hunk had a curious soul and Lance was a gossip; they had almost caught her one too many times.

“I guess I did want your input on how to recalibrate this old radio I found in the junkyard…” Katie huffed out a breath, which the boys took as a surrender.

“Ah, nothing like the smell of oil and grease to really improve the day!” Lance put an arm around her shoulders, but she quickly dodged away, lest he recognize anything different about her body. Even though she was already pretending to be a boy, Katie didn’t want to also have to pretend to be trans. It was a line that she dared not cross, morally.

She felt the dysmorphia more acutely than she’d imagined she would. As a child, she had enjoyed cutesy things and dresses and her long hair. The sudden departure from those possessions was supposed to remove her from her previous identity, but Katie would always know the truth. There was no escaping it.

More than anything, it was the inability to choose that left her frazzled. The loose clothes and glasses and boyish haircut didn’t bother her and they did give her a liberty that more feminine wear didn’t, but Katie wished the circumstances allowed her to be a girl too, sometimes.

Alas, here she was, stuck between Hunk and Lance as they basically escorted her to the cafeteria. Matt would have a conniption if he ever found out there were boys breaking into her room at all times of the day.

“You thinking about those amazing fries we’re gonna get?” Lance sighed dreamily. “Honestly, I don’t know how they do it. Every other meal freaking sucks, but then Monday comes around and the cooks just nail it!”

Hunk chuckled, nodding along. “They probably want to put us in a good mood for the week. Everybody knows that getting back to classes after the weekend can be hard.”

“Hard? It’s impossible.” Lance dragged his hands through his face. “I nearly fell asleep during Arithmetic today. Professor Reeves is such a bore!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t fall asleep if you didn’t spend Sunday nights in town,” Katie quipped before she could stop herself.

“Yeah, well,” Lance floundered. “What’s your excuse, then? You won’t come with us, but you still look dead on your feet in the mornings!”

“I’m just not a morning person.” She crossed her arms, turning away from Lance.

In doing so, however, she came face to face with Hunk, who was staring at her with an inquisitive look. He was less loud about it than Lance, but it was clear that he also had questions about what Katie spent her time doing.

She tightened her arms around herself, feeling her stomach drop.

This was why Katie didn’t like to talk to them. It was usually easy to ignore Lance, because of how over-the-top he was, but Hunk’s gentleness and concern made the guilt rise within her. She didn’t want to involve other people in her lies, didn’t want them to believe Pidge was their friend only to be faced with a betrayal.

And that’s how they would see it, wasn’t it? Katie didn’t have a lot of experience with friendships, especially not ones as deep as Hunk and Lance’s, but no sane person would take it lightly to find out someone had lied about their whole identity and motivations.

Besides, if she ever did find out what the Garrison was hiding, it could possibly affect the future of the organization and disrupt the trajectory of every student there.

Before Katie could go further into her spiraling thoughts, she felt Hunk maneuver her into the cafeteria line. She had tuned out the rest of their conversation and now Lance spoke of a girl in his Aerodynamics class.

She ignored his ramblings. Lance tried to project this image of a lady’s man, but the few dates he’d scored since they started school never seemed to really move forward. They ended up in an endless cycle in which Lance fixated on some girl, hit on her endlessly, then finally gave up and went crying to Hunk.

Katie couldn’t see the appeal of it, but it most likely had to do with Lance’s self-esteem and need for validation.

“I think Jiya might actually like me!” he declared, despite how both Hunk and Katie were more focused on filling their trays with food. “Whenever the teacher asks me to stay behind and clean up, she stays to help! That has to mean something!”

Katie collected her juice box and went to sit down, pointedly ignoring Lance’s questions.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Hunk said agreeably. He didn’t sound too sure, but his expression showed that he was trying to be positive for Lance’s sake.

“Or, you know, the girl is just a nice person who thought you were being picked on by the teacher.” Katie raised her eyes to give Lance an unimpressed look. “And you’re reading too much into it.”

The boy scowled at her. “What would you know, Pidge? I’ve never seen you with a girl before.”

“Yeah,” she raised an eyebrow, feeling smug that the other two wouldn’t understand the humor in this. “What do I know of girls?”

Katie had to suppress a laugh when Lance turned to her with a very confused expression. Hunk, however, gave her a small, secretive smile that set off all kinds of warning signs.

“I don’t get it,” Lance complained to Hunk, then turned back to her. “I don’t get it!”

“Well,” Hunk started and immediately her heart started pounding in her chest. Outwardly, Katie tried to remain impassive. “The girls in our class all love Pidge.”

“They do?!” Lance burst out, eyes widened. His gaze shifted back and forth between her and Hunk.

They didn’t, Katie was pretty sure. Did they?

“They think he’s cute,” Hunk confirmed, waving his fork in the air as if trying to recall the exact words. “Pidge is quiet, but he’s smart and mostly polite, so Denise decided he was a good guy and the rest of the girls kinda followed her lead.”

Now that Katie thought about it, it was true that she’d helped Denise with her Bio homework and that people had been nicer to her since. She supposed they could see Pidge in a good light, especially because he seemed so much younger than the other students in Engineering.

Katie blinked rapidly to dispel her thoughts. She’d been thinking of Pidge in the third person, again.

“Fine, then.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Katie. “What miraculous advice do you have for me, oh Great Pidgeon?”

Despite his sarcasm, it was clear that Lance truly wanted an answer. It was one of the most ridiculous situations Katie had ever found herself in.

“How about you show some interest in what these girls like, instead of showboating around them?” She flicked a fry at him, which Hunk quickly stole for himself. “Sure, some people want to be impressed, but we all got into the Garrison and a lot of them already know your grades on the simulator. Most girls want someone who will listen and who they can have fun with.”

“I can be fun!” Lance protested.

“I get what Pidge’s saying, though,” Hunk intervened. Katie hadn’t meant to be harsh, but Lance suddenly looked a little deflated. “We know that you’re great, but you’re always so busy trying to be what these girls want from you that you don’t really get to know them. A little kindness goes a long way.”

Katie nodded along, munching on her burger. “No girl wants an egocentric boyfriend,” she added, mouth still half full. Lance glared at her in both disgust and indignancy.

“I don’t want to hear this from you, Mister I’m-not-here-to-make-friends!”

She shrugged and continued to eat her burger.

“Okay, okay…” Hunk put his hands up placatingly. “How about I get us some dessert and we change the subject?”

Lance glanced at him through the corner of his eyes. “Those guava-flavored popsicles?”

“You know it!” Hunk grinned back at him and the two shared a high-five.

“You’re so easy to please,” Katie commented once Hunk had gotten up. She used her last fry to soak up the mayo leftover on her plate.

Lance glared at her for a moment, before letting the last of his annoyance slip away. He reached into his backpack and took out an apple.

“Here.” He deposited it on her tray.

Katie frowned at him. “What is this?”

“You always eat fruit after we get something greasy, right?” he asked it casually, distracted by trying to squeeze ketchup onto his remaining fries. The condiment bottles in the cafeteria were continuously blocked.

“Yeah.” She blinked up at him, caught by surprise. Her voice had gone soft and she had to clear her throat to dispel the emotion that knotted there. “I didn’t think you would remember.”

Lance looked up from his food to give her an exaggerated eye-roll.

“You’re my friend, Pidge.” He kicked her under the table. “In spite of all your efforts to keep me away.”

She stayed silent for a moment, staring at the apple.

“Thank you,” she said. I’m sorry, she wanted to add, but it would make no sense to him. As far as Lance knew, Pidge was cold and self-involved and clinical to a fault.

“Don’t mention it!” He threw a fry up and tried to catch it with his mouth, but it merely bounced off his nose, marking it with ketchup. “Dang! One more!”

Katie let out a breath of laughter. Then, sitting up to better her odds, she waved at Lance. “Try me.”

By the time Hunk returned, Katie was biting into her apple as Lance complained about the ketchup stains he’d gotten on his uniform jacket.

--

She didn’t know what had driven her away from the dorms that day. There was a restless energy within her that demanded space and, though she’d never been the biggest fan of nature, it had sent her directly into the Arizona desert.

Katie felt like Pidge, today. Not like Pidge Gunderson, but like the little girl who’d yelled a misheard swearword at locked doors, until her brother had come to her rescue. She felt young and impulsive and alive, despite the grief that still weighted on her shoulders.

More than anything, she missed her mom.

In Katie’s eyes, Coleen Holt knew everything there was to know about agriculture and plant life. She was a different kind of genius from her father and brother, possessing a peacefulness about her that none of the other Holts could ever hope for. It had been a comfort through the years of Katie’s adolescence.

Sitting underneath one of the few trees distributed across the Garrison grounds reminded Katie of her grandmother’s place in Italy, where the fruit trees spread as far as the horizon. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the sweet smells that rose from the vegetation.

“I wonder if they have lemon trees here,” she murmured to herself.

“I don’t think they do, Pidge.”

Katie lurched back in shock. She felt her shoulder scrape against the tree trunk and had to stretch out an arm to keep from falling. Lance sent her a carefree grin, bent down at the waist to look her in the eye, as he usually did. It irritated Katie to no end, not only for how condescending it was, but because it always put him too far into her personal bubble.

“What are you even doing here, Lance?” she asked once her heartrate had gone down.

“I saw you through a window and thought we could eat together, since Hunk is sick.” He looked pointedly at the half-eaten sandwich she’d tossed in her surprise. “I see you started without me.”

“Well, now I’ll have to buy something else for lunch, so thanks for that,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be like that, Pidgeon.” Lance poked her on the ribs. “I even brought you something as a bribe.” And then he extended an apple towards her.

Katie took it, trying to cover up her amusement with exasperation. “Do you think I’m obsessed with apples or something?”

“Next time I’ll bring you a lemon,” he teased.

Maybe it was because she felt more herself than she had in weeks, but Katie snickered at him. While his sanguinity could be exhausting, this time it was a welcome relief from the stagnation she’d fallen under.

Lance pulled out a sandwich from his pack, one of those 30 centimeters subs in Italian bread and multiple fixings, and Katie felt her mouth water at the sight. He must have noticed, because Lance chuckled and broke out one end for her.

“I think this is a palo verde,” he remarked after swallowing his first bite. At a confused look from Katie, he clarified, “the tree. You were talking about it before, right?”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah…” He sounded like he was laughing at her. “I’m Cuban.”

Katie suddenly felt very stupid. He and Hunk had probably mentioned this already, but she didn’t pay them that much attention. It was a little embarrassing, especially when Lance seemed to be memorizing every small piece of information she offered him.

“Oh.” She searched for the right thing to say. “I didn’t know. Your last name sounds American.”

The whole situation left in her a sense of déjà vu. She couldn’t quite remember why, but the words pulled at her memory.

Thankfully, Lance took it in stride. “Our family has been to the US, then back to Cuba, then back to the US for generations. My whole name is actually Lance Serrano Mcclain.”

She nodded. Normally Katie would let the conversation drop and focus on finishing her meal, but she had already decided to take a bit of a break that day, in order to be more attentive at night. It couldn’t hurt to find out more about her teammate.

“So… Palo verde?”

“It means green stick, which seems kind of unfair, because this tree is actually pretty big, especially for the climate around here.” Lance fanned himself. “I hate how dry it gets.”

She almost agreed with him, but, as far as Lance and Hunk were concerned, Pidge Gunderson had no reason to have been outside of Arizona. Instead, she pretended to ponder his comment.

“The desert can be pretty unpredictable. The lack of humidity during the day is bad, but I wouldn’t want to be caught out when the temperatures drop.”

Lance faked a shiver. “Don’t even talk about that! I have too much tropical blood to handle the cold well. Hunk’s Samoan, by the way,” and there was unnecessary emphasis to his words here, “so he’s the same.”

“I didn’t realize both of you weren’t from around here.” Katie could imagine how much they missed their families. Choosing to voluntarily leave so that they could study at the Garrison must have been difficult.

“That’s nice to hear.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” He scrunched up his nose, as if he wanted to take back the words as he said them. “You were so cold to us when we first met, we weren’t sure what it was about.”

It was her turn to grimace. Katie hadn’t wanted to seem like so much of a jerk. She could be snappish and patronizing, even with those she loved, but her haughtiness towards her teammates had been a façade created to keep them out. Not that it did any good.

“Ugh, you’re already closed off, again.” Lance threw his head back in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just personal, Lance.” Katie played with the apple in her hands. “I swear it’s not about you two.”

Without looking directly at him, she couldn’t tell what expression Lance was making. He stared at her, letting the silence extend.

Then he popped the last of the sub into his mouth, spreading back onto the grass.

“We will pester it out of you.” She turned to see him grinning. The confidence there was a quiet thing, so much different than Lance’s usual hyperboles and that much more effective. She felt dazed by it. “Eventually.”

Katie had never understood what the girls in her school meant when they talked about crushes. They always seemed frivolous, going on about someone’s hair or how handsome they were or how strong. Meanwhile, Katie had simply hoped for a friend, for a respite to the unending mocking.

Still, Lance suddenly looked very interesting under this light. His chin was too pointed to be considered attractive, but his blue eyes caught the sunshine like polished stone. He could be funny and thoughtful and inventive, attributes Katie hadn’t expected to value.

She moved her gaze to where another group of students was sitting, uncertain if the heat running up her neck would translate into a damning blush. She bit into the apple to keep from incriminating herself further.

[whattodowithace]

The Act of Kindness (Donghun)

Title: The Act of Kindness

Pairing: Reader x Donghun (A.C.E)

Genre: Fluff; Hinted Romance; Beauty and the Beast AU

Word count: 1396

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

Summary: The teasing line between being human, and the possibility of being a beast for all time is one Donghun knows very well. But then he meets a girl and his life changes. And one night when she has the choice to leave him to die and decides not to take it, he starts to feel differently about this girl he has been holding captive in his lonely palace.

The door to the kitchen opens with a loud thud, snow dripping off the couples clothing as they enter. The white flakes smudged with hints of red leaving a rosy-white trail behind them. A steady fire crackles in the hearth, making the room smell of wood and a hint of fresh biscuits that had been baked earlier.

"I wouldn't be injured if you hadn't run off." Donghun snarls, leaning up against the wooden counters edge for support as a bolt of pain shoots up his arm. Making him bite back a curse.

"And you would have been left to freeze to death had I not brought you back." The girl snaps, her cloak heavy as she removed the soaking wet fabric from her shoulders. It was torn in many places from wolves catching it with their teeth and tearing the fabric easily.

She hid a shutter at the thought that it could have been her skin they tore apart so easily. Had it not been for her capture saving her last minute.

She pushed the thought away as she rummaged through the large kitchen for cloths and a bowl to pour hot water into to sterilize the wounds of her capture.

She finds a medium sized basin and fills it with hot water from the kettle that hung over the kitchens fire. She could feel his eyes steadily watching her intently as she worked quietly. Taking cloths from this drawer and that, putting them in the hot water and then wringing the water out to let the cloth cool a little in the warm air around them.

"You seem to know what you're doing." Donghun observes after she had walked back over to him. She took a stool from the corner of the room and placed it behind him, motioning for him to sit down. He obeyed.

"My father is an inventor." She replies. Ringing out another cloth free of hot water. "He used to come inside with minor injuries all the time."

A sad look clouds her eyes at the mention of her father, making Donghun feel a twinge of pain in his heart for giving her a life sentence in a big, unfamiliar palace, for all eternity. He never admitted it to anyone, but he often thought how brave she was for taking her fathers place that cold day several weeks ago. How she did it without a moments hesitation. And now she was left with the fact that she would never see him again. Just like how he would never be the normal man he once was before the curse. How his lack of love and empathy got him in this situation. And then here she was showing him such kindness and affection that he had never felt before. And he had never shown that kind of care for others.

Shaking off her stormy thoughts she turned to face him. "Let me see your arm."

Donghun pulled his arm away from her outstretched hand. "No." He said, glaring at her.

She let out a frustrated sigh, giving him a tired look. "I know you're hurt. And you're bleeding heavily. Let me take a look."

Donghun lets out a scoff, looking away from her icy gaze. She sees his dark eyes spark into a deep shade of blue. A sign she had come to recognize as a warning he could turn into the monster she had seen in the forest. The monster she had been greeted with when she came to look for her missing father.

He could turn so fast. One minute he was human, the next he changed into a gruesome beast that she grew terrified of. His personality wasn't pleasant as a flesh and blood human, but when he changed his demeanor changed even worse.

But that night in the forest, when she had tried to escape from his palace. After he had caught her in the west wing and she had found an illuminated rose, his anger had spiraled to knew levels. She was so afraid of him in that moment. But then when he saved her in that forest, she suddenly felt not afraid of him anymore. A sense of calm, and absolute certainty that this man that could turn into every child's nightmare, would not harm her.

She gently placed her palm on his upper arm, making him flinch but meet her gaze with his stormy blue eyes.

"Please, let me help you." She pleaded. Keeping her voice gentle and calm.

Donghun stared at her for several seconds, making her hold her breath. But then his blue eyes faded back into soft brown, his arm extending to her in submission.

She let out a quiet sigh of relief as she rolled up his tattered long-sleeve shirt. Blood soaking the white fabric from his wrist up to his elbow. She gently peeled it back to reveal angry bite marks made by the wolves. His skin torn and bloody, the skin around the wound starting to swell in anger.

She gently laid a damp cloth against his arm, making him wince and ball his fingers into tight fists. She continued gently dabbing the wound with the cloth, the blood slowly washing off as the wound became clean.

She put the bloody rag into the hot water to sterilize it before taking a fresh cloth to begin the same process. However, before applying the fresh rag to his skin she rested her hand on his and began loosening his fingers out of a fist.

"Relax." She coaxed, applying the warm rag to his skin again.

Donghun stared down at her quiet working form. Her brows drawn together in concentration as she worked. For years his life had been confined to this palace. To a rose that he feared. Feared when the last soft red petal hit the ground, sealing his fate. For now, he could switch between human and beast. But when his time ran out, he would forever be a beast.

He had accepted that his fate would be forever being a hideous monster. But now here he was. Sitting in his kitchen with this girl he had just risked his life for. He had acted on impulse, his mind and heart racing and his feet moving him to action before he ever knew what hit him.

"Thank you." He blurted out. Imminently feeling his cheeks go hot.

She met his eyes, surprised by the appreciation he was showing. "For what?"

Donghun looked down at his lap awkwardly, not sure how to proceed. His dark hair casting shadows over his facial features and hiding his eyes.

"For coming back for me." He continued. "You had the chance to go home, to see your father again. You could have just let the wolves tear me to shreds but instead you came back for me. And now you're bandaging and cleaning my wounds."

She smiled softly at him. His stomach doing a flip at the way her lips quirked up and her eyes sparkled.

"You saved me." She replied. "I think we're even now."

Their eyes locked in that moment. And they stayed locked for several minutes. That night having changed the way they saw each other and making a new feeling spring up in their hearts.

She looked away from him, but he didn't look away from her. He kept watching as she took the cloth away from his arm and finished cleaning the wound before wrapping it tightly

"Is that too tight?" She asked, stepping away from him slightly.

Donghun rolled his wrist slightly, testing out the wrappings. His skin didn't throb as much as it had earlier and the pain had lessened. Her touches still lingering on his warm skin.

"It's perfect." He answered, truly being genuine.

He stood up quickly, making her take a small step back involuntarily. Her guard going up slightly.

Donghun opened his mouth to say something else, anything. But his mind drew a blank. So instead he let out a growl of frustration and simply said, "You should get some rest."

She nodded, her gaze holding his until he turned on his heel and left the kitchen. Leaving her to think over the nights events alone. But before she fell asleep that night she had the fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe, being captive in this big palace wouldn't be so bad after all.

[dowoonie-namjoonie]

All You Need is Confidence

Paring: Teacher!Jae x Student!Reader x Teacher!Wonpil

A/N: IDK why but I’m on a student-teacher kick, probably because I’ve been watching PLL again so...ENJOY! BTW, if you like this I’m probably going to make it a series because why not! If this does make you uncomfy, I suggest you don’t read it. 

Warnings: Student-teacher relationships, poly relationship, slight age gap, minor language, and suggestive themes. 

(Unedited, and also there will be a second part!)

High school was not fun, you know how people say it’s one of the best times in your life, well you have reason to disagree. Senior year was the most stressful to you, purely because of the inevitable change from childhood to adulthood when you go to college. That pressure to instantly grow up scared the ever-living shit out of you without fail. 

However, school wasn’t always that bad, your senior year was bad, yes. But, three people in your life made sure on their lives that you’d have the best year ever. Number 1, your best friend Kang Younghyun. Both you and him were senior this year, Younghyun always had a higher work ethic than you. Motivated to do anything and everything, honestly, his main goal was to travel the world by himself. By far, he was the most daring, independent person you’d ever met, he had confidence practically radiating off of him. So, you can imagine that there was never a dull moment with him. 

Number 2 and 3 go hand in hand. Mr. Park Jaehyung and Mr. Kim Wonpil, they made sure the hallways were a safe place and more importantly that class was never plain. Mr. Park and Mr. Kim are best friends from what you know ever, they even went to this high school just like you and Younghyun. Even though they were best buds, they were complete opposites. 

Mr. Park’s english class was eventful. Mr. Park hated homework so he rarely gave it, said he “doesn’t believe in it.” Most of the time he’d spend class talking to kids about video games, giving so advice to novices to the games he liked. Of course he actually taught...once a month maybe! Mr. Park was just one of those cool teachers who didn’t teach, but yet someone taught you everything you need to know about the world. Weird how that happens. Commonly, people knew him as a young teacher-same with Mr. Kim-even romanticizing the man. Most of your girlfriends swooned over either one of the teachers: But, hey you had to admit it, you definitely had a crush on Mr. Park. 

Mr. Kim, on the other hand, taught a tedious government class. Mr. Kim seemed to always be second whenever compared to Mr. Park, it kinda made you feel guilty having liking the one out of the two. They both were equally good people, but since Mr. Park is barely a teacher people just like him more. You see, Mr. Kim taught, there was nothing he loved more than giving 30 slides worth of a powerpoint, making you take pain-staking notes every-other day. Mr. Kim was popular more on his visuals and how shy he was. Mr. Kim could get flustered about anything and everything, once a kid in your class asked to go to the bathroom because he needed to take a shit, and Mr. Kim blushed rocking back and forth on his chair all because how the kid worded his sentence. Mr. Kim was adorable in a I-can-make-fun-of-him way, maybe it was teenage hormones but you had a crush on him too. Ah, but the crushes you had would never go anywhere...right? 

Anyway, the theme between them two was that you always went to them when you were upset. Both teacher took a liking to you because of your playful nature and natural sense of what they taught. Your intelligence seemed to impress most people, but you had to admit when you had your downfalls, especially when learning what the difference of absolute monarchy and constitutional monarchy. Civics wasn’t your strong suit. In english class, Mr. Park would make you stand out from the class making fun of every detail about you, Mr. Kim had empathy for you. Tutoring you in a heartbeat whenever you had trouble in his class, which seemed frequent. No matter how much Mr. Kim would hate to admit it, but he didn’t mind your merciless teasing, so of course you were his favorite student. Still, they both helped you through thick and thin. Like today.

Today, today was not your day. Earlier this morning Younghyun told you he was going home early sick, so you needed to get another ride home. Or you’d have to take the bus home, which was a no-go for you since taking the public bus freaked you out. You don’t know, the fact anyone could sit next to you made you paranoid. What if it was a serial killer, who planned on following you home and killing you? See, paranoid. 

Then this girl in your class ruined your whole project, a fucking group project, those you despise. Why was it fair to be partnered up with people who, simply, didn’t care about their grade just like you did. This girl proved this fact almost definitely, for your chemistry class, you were supposed to build a representation on how electrical currents go through objects. You being you, took on the roll easily, priding yourself with most of the difficult things. The one thing she needed to do, that ignorant bimbo, was to bring a potato and toaster. So, the chemistry project was left with an F. 

When you got frustrated you cried, unfortunately this flaw was seen by everyone in your chemistry class. Leaving you the laughing stock of the school for at least the next few weeks. The stares from people-even the mocking laughing, made your spiral. And why, all because of a stupid girl who couldn’t do her part in a simple project. Embarrassing yourself further, you decided to run out of class to the nearest person who could help calm you down. 

Panic filled you as you ran through the, just nearly, populated hallways. As you sobbed down, people looked at you like you were some crazy person on the brink of a full-blown breakdown. In these situation where you had minor panic attacks, you would run to yours and Younghyun’s meeting place. The janitors closet that no-one dared to go into, no one but you and Younghyun. Since, he left earlier because he’s sick, there was only one other place where you could go besides the unhelpful guidance counselors that would give you shitty life advice and send you back to class. No, Mr. Park could help you, he always managed to make you feel better. 

People were insatiable, desperately trying to shatter you into a million pieces as you made your way to Mr. Park’s english room. Thankfully, and ironically, for you the bell had rung in the knick of time. Mr. Kim noticed a heap of students outside his classroom, crowded together whispering insults at god knows what. When he heard your name strun into the mix, he realized you were standing in the middle of this crowd, holding yourself trying to hide your tears. 

“Alright, alright,” Mr. Kim exclaimed, grabbing the attention of the students, who seemed more flabbergasted than anything. Mr. Kim never yelled. “Clear out, now!” 

The man had never looked more serious, a demanding tone riddled in his voice, his eyes like a black-hole to those who opposed him, and his hands put on his hips. So, this is what he’s like when he’s angry. His anger helped you, students cleared out into other room, lingering students were shoved away into the bathrooms fearing of a write up. Still, you stayed on the ground hiding your tears, Mr. Kim coming up in front of you, the tap of his shoes alerted you. 

“Y/N,” he started, voice getting closer as he kneeled down. Sure, he’s seen you upset thousands of times, but out of those times you haven’t cried once. There was no time due to your whining and yelling about whatever set you off that day. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” 

Mr. Kim was concerned, per usual he had empathy for you, upset himself because you were crying. He could never tell why, but he hated when you were angry or sad, he just couldn’t stand it. 

“N-No...,” you whipped a tear, looking up at his face. Being met with pure handsomeness, but there was no time to be entranced by his record-breaking looks. “Can-Can you take me to Mr. Parks...please, I need to talk to him-to both of you. Is that okay?”

Mr. Kim was taken aback, luckily for him and Mr. Park had no class, lunch break comes with perks. “Of course it’s okay, let’s go, everything will be okay.” Mr. Kim put a hand on your back, tapping you lightly to encourage you to get up. Complying, both of you made it to Mr. Park’s, just catching him in the middle of taking a bit of his tuna sandwich. 

“Oh hello...oh no,” his sandwich dropped onto the desk upon seeing you blotchy face. Uncomfortable sight to see. “Y/N, Wonpil what’s going on?”

Mr. Kim lead you to a nearby desk, out of all the empty ones he put you directly in front of the teachers desk. 

“I’m not sure,” Mr. Kim started, backing away from you as you convulsed with a sobbing fit. “I found her like this in the hallway.” 

Mr. Park clicked his tongue, looking around his desk for some unused tissue and a free water bottle. Oddly enough he had both of those things tucked away in his desk. Strutting over to you, he gently held the tissue up to your face, dapping off some stray tears, in the process placing the water bottle next to you. 

“Just calm down okay,” Mr. Park muttered, focused on cleaning you up. 

Mr. Kim came up behind him, reaching for the water bottle and opening it up for you. Carefully, Mr. Park withdrew his hand, letting Mr. Kim give you some water. Even then, you didn’t calm down, concerning both of the men when you started hyperventilating. Today was just one of those days. The whole ordeal rang through your head, no one could ever look at you the same ever again. Look at you now crying in front of two men, who you adore, sullying everything they knew about you. The thought that your life was over made your panic attack protrude, increasing your talent of overthinking.   

“What’s going on Jae,” Wonpil kept his eyes on you with pure worry in his eyes. Wonpil has never experienced a panic attack before, let alone even seen one in person. 

“She’s having a panic attack um...I’ve got this.” 

Mr. Park stepped up to you again, making sure you could only focus on him. He placed his hand on your lower thing, squeezing lightly, placing his forehead against yours. Both him and you made a deep eye contact, calmingly he said “Y/N, calm down, everything’s going to be okay.” When you didn’t respond to him, instead you ignored him, he began tapping in a pattern on your thighs. 

“Y/N,” he tried again, keeping up with the pattern. “Focus on my fingers, okay? Focus on how I’m tapping you, okay?” 

Listening to him, you began to calm down, feeling his tapping. One time on the right, next on the left, then on the right, then on the left...

“That’s it,” he began, not giving up on the tapping, pulling you back to reality. 

“I’m okay...okay...I’m okay,” you spoke up, swallowing back the horrible panic you just felt. 

Mr. Park pulled back, proud of himself that his efforts to calm you down worked, Jae was experienced with panic attacks. Although it killed him to see you like that, he’s just glad you came here for him to help you. 

With the tissue, you rubbed your face and nose of any liquid that came out of you. Both men looked at you in waiting for your next move, they didn’t know what could throw you off. 

But, someone had to speak up at some point. “Do you want to talk about it Y/N?” Mr. Park’s question made you shake, Mr. Kim noticed this nodding him off. 

“Let’s not talk about that,” Mr. Kim spoke, putting a loving smile on his face to hopefully not start up another panic attack. “Um...Why don’t we do something? Yea, like...” Wonpil was at a loss, looking over to his best friend for something that could distract you in this moment. 

“Y-Yea,” Mr. Park perked up, jumping to his desk to find anything to help you regulate yourself. The only thing he had that was remotely fun and not school work, was a Christmas word search he’d given the freshman class he taught yesterday. “This, we can do this word search!”

“Yes, a word search!” Both teachers yelled excitedly, Mr. Park placed the word search on his desk, Mr. Kim beckoning you to come over to them to do the word puzzle. 

You knew what they were trying to do, but really you were in exactly no position to deny the men who just helped you through that. After all, they were making you feel better. Like a snail, you slid off the desk, trudging your way over to both of the enthusiastic men sitting in Mr. Park’s spinny chair that they pulled out just for you. Mr. Kim placed a pencil in your hand, sliding the paper more towards you, meanwhile Mr. Park pulled up two chairs for him and Mr. Kim to sit in next to you. Sitting down next to you, the both watched you complete the puzzle, randomly helping you throughout. 

Mr. Park and Mr. Kim had a secret, an unspoken secret between the two of them. Even if it was left untouched and talked about, both men new that both of them had a crush on you. They were disappointed, even discussed in themselves that they liked you, but you didn’t make it any easier either. They felt the need to protect you, constantly, the need to make you happy when no one else could are their duties. For Jae, he started to like you when you promptly scolded him for being a horrible teacher, but an amazing guy. From that day forward, you and Jae formed a bond where you made fun of eachother with hidden love. For Wonpil, it’s when you defended him when people were making fun of the way he got flustered. He just knew you were the one, no ones ever defended him that way. The more you came to talk to them, the more their feeling began to grow for you. Ditto, same thing happening to you. 

All of it happened so fast, Mr. Park was lost in thought about you. Delicately, he watched you as you tried to figure out the puzzle. Even though your face was red, eyes swollen, and nose runny Jae still admired your looks. The way your face was scrunch up in determination to defeat the puzzle, the way you bit your lip, or the way your soft looking hair fell on your face-

Reaching out his bigger hand, he wisped a stray piece a hair from out of your face, getting a better look at your beauty. But then you turned to him, with your wide E/C eyes and a cute pout on your face, he just couldn’t help himself. His hand moved from your, now proven, soft hair. Stroking his way to cup your cheek, his callassed thumb ran across your bottom lip. The plumpness fueling him more, before you both knew it his lips were on yours. His lips encased yours, the sudden feeling making you whimper under him, the only word to describe how it felt was euphoric. First you were shocked, not expecting your teacher to touch you, let alone kiss you. Then, a feeling bubbled in you, your stupid crush and all the fantasies you’ve had about him made you melt into him. Closing your eyes, beginning to kiss him back, your hand met grasped his shirt, pulling him further into you. Kissing Mr. Park was something else. 

[twokinkybeans]

Stark On Ice Chapter 5: Glitter and Gold (Starker Figure Skating AU)

Read here on AO3!

-

Chapter 5: Glitter and Gold

Peter groans at the sound of his alarm. The loud, blaring tune is pulling him back into consciousness after a good night’s rest. He grabs his phone to turn the alarm off and ponders sneaking in an extra five minutes just because he’s so comfortable within these soft, thick sheets. However, the amount of notifications has him frowning. He only needs a few seconds of skimming through them to feel the blood drain from his face.

No.

No, no, no!

There are too many missed calls. Too many texts about him and Tony, and when he opens one of them, his heart sinks. Tony and he have been caught kissing. Peter sinks into the sheets a little more to trick his nerves into settling down. Obviously, they don’t. His fingers dial MJ’s number almost automatically. He knows he should call Tony too, but MJ is honest and objective, and she always knows what to do. She’ll tell him how bad the situation is. “Peter Benjamin Parker, what the fuck have you-”

Bad. The situation is bad. 

And right at that moment, Peter can see his career crumbling before his very own eyes. Everything he’s worked for. Everything his parents worked for. The legacy they left behind for him. None of that matters anymore. He’s done. “MJ,” he chokes out, tears threatening to blur his vision. His voice is small. It’s a wonder MJ even caught her name falling from his lips. She quickly catches on to Peter’s clear panicked state and quips a quick ‘stay right where you are; I’m coming over’ before she ends the call. Peter stares at his lock screen. He ignores the notifications that are still flowing in- wave after wave after wave.

Tony. He has to call Tony.

 -

Not much later, they’re all squeezed around Peter’s small dining table. MJ, Steve, Tony, and of course, Happy too. Though the latter has pulled his seat a little further back- clearly not wanting to be involved in the drama. Peter doesn’t blame him. Working for Tony Stark must be tiring. “I warned you, I-” “Steve, we didn’t do this on purpose!” “Still!” “My security system didn’t alarm me. I figured we were safe.” “Safe,” MJ deadpans “-god. Y’all gotta stop blaming each other. We know neither of you did this on purpose, so all we gotta do now is figure out a solution.” Peter sends her a grateful smile before turning to Tony.

“Have you dealt with something like this before? Do you know how to shut it down?” Tony nods slowly. Not a good sign. Tony can be stubborn. Frustrated. But he never displays a sign of powerlessness as he does now. “Media is too fast. Trying to stop the fire is a lost cause. We either confirm or deny.”

They’re quiet for a moment. Peter isn’t sure what to say next. Lying… He hates lying. Doesn’t think it’ll help solve issues in the long run. Lying will probably only make it worse. But if they admit the truth… He doesn’t even want to think about the possible consequences. Steve groans and leans forward on his elbows resting on the table. “I talked to the PR-team quickly. They recommended to try and keep this quiet until at least the end of the season. Three more weeks.” Tony shakes his head at that. “People aren’t going to wait that long. Celebrity Spin-Off is too commercial. People are too invested. They won’t let it slide, trust me. We ain't straight enough.” Peter lets the words sink in. He wonders if there’s an easy way out of this at all. Probably not. If there is, they would’ve known. “What if we…” he starts. Steve and Tony raise their heads at him. MJ only grins. “Keep going.” “Well, an official statement is way too heavy. I mean, of course, we’re two men, but we’re adults, and nothing about this kiss is illegal. If we make it too heavy for ourselves, people will think of it as a scandal too.” “So you’re saying to ignore it? I told you that won’t-” 

“No, Tony, hear me out.” Peter takes another breath. “We don’t say shit. We skate our routine. By the end, we kiss each other. Confirming what the public already knows anyway.”

MJ nods approvingly and wants to give him a high five, but Steve shakes his head. “You could eliminate yourselves like that if people don’t vote-” This time, it’s Tony who speaks up. “Y’know what, I agree with Peter. They already know what’s going on anyways. Heck, I got myself tangled up in this show by accident because I didn’t want to play along with the “everyone in the skating world is straight”-norm. I’d rather get eliminated over a kiss than rumors, and eh, it’s just a show anyway. I don’t mind if we don’t win.” Steve throws his arms up. “Alright, alright, you’re right. It’s not our TV show. Skating is what we do best. If this is what you want, I’ll play along with you.” Peter glows up. He has worked with both Steve and MJ from the very start of his actual skating career at the Midtown Ice Arena, and the fact that they both support him means the world.

“Hey Peter, shouldn’t you be at-” Ned’s mouth drops when he sees Tony Stark. The boy is standing in the doorway, still wearing his PJ’s, his laptop clutched to his chest. “H-Hi?”

-

Peter and Tony skate towards the middle of the rink. It’s time for their second choreo of the night. The music hasn’t started yet, so it’s simple, easy forward strokes until they come to a halt. Peter can tell Tony finally masters his skates outside their choreos too. The subtle movements are smooth and steady. Peter is proud of him. Of his hard work and dedication toward something he’d never done before.

I am flesh and I am bone Rise up, ting ting, like glitter and gold

Peter grins, their tight outfits shining in the spotlights. Blinding Lights. Peter huffs quietly, not showing it but having fun about his little inward joke. They’d performed the altered version of that choreo for that earlier this night. His arm aches a little now, but it’s doable. He’s skated with worse pains before. Like that time he broke his little toe. Or the time- No. Focus. 

Peter jumps swiftly into Tony’s arms for the stationary lift- careful to keep his blades away from Tony’s body. Tony catches him easily and supports his back with the warm, big, broad hands. Peter loves being held like this. It's almost bridal style, the way they're holding one another. God, Tony is so handsome from up close. The stubble on his cheeks. Little marks and spots are covering the skin and showing the man's many years of experience here on earth.

I've got fire in my soul Rise up, ting ting, like glitter

On the first ‘ting’, Peter throws his head back and lifts his right leg up straight. The next, he comes back in bridal style and easily slides down until his knees rest on Tony’s upper legs. From there, the music picks up, and Peter rolls his shoulders down sensually while Tony bends his knees further. Their foreheads press together, and Peter licks his lips as he resists the urge to kiss the man already. Peter then lowers his skates back onto the ice and lets go of Tony when he feels the grip. Lowering his body, coming back up with a sexy body roll. The audience whistles. Peter grins and reaches his arm out to grab Tony’s hand, wincing slightly at the sharp pain shooting through his deltoid. Fuck. He keeps smiling though and refocuses on the next part of the sequence. Twizzles. Then, skating their short eight-figure before both lifting a leg to slide forward in a paired spiral.

Do you ponder the manner of things In the dark The dark, the dark, the dark

Forward strokes. Peter quickly glances at Tony before he changes his hand position. The man looks so happy. So proud of himself. Peter smiles and nods at Tony as a sign he’s ready for the loop lift. It’s a challenging lift for Peter as he always has to keep himself from jumping too high- it’s not a loop jump. So instead, he pushes himself off the ice just enough for Tony to lift him, spin the both of them around and then put him back down. 

I am flesh and I am bone Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold

Here comes the most challenging part. Peter grits his teeth together. He’s done the death spiral so often he isn’t scared of it. Tony is a bit, though.

I've got fire in my soul Rise up, ting ting, like glitter

Peter tries to give Tony the most encouraging smile he can muster up as they shift their hand positions. They start circling and spinning, and once they’ve got momentum, Peter takes a leap of faith and lowers himself into the death spiral.

'Cause everybody's in the backroom's Spinning up Don't know what you're asking for

Tony grips him tightly- the two-handed version still – and Peter feels so fucking free as the man spins him around and around. They’re going a tad too slow, so Peter squeezes Tony’s hand as a sign to pull him back up. Thank god the man catches on. To drag out time now that they're up early, Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck gently- both their bodies still spinning on the spot.

And everybody's in the front room's Tripping out You left your bottle at the door

They come to a halt, their chests falling and rising rapidly due to the exercise. Simultaneously, the song has the breathy part- thanks to Steve for the little detail. From there, they both know there’s only one bit left before the song comes to an end. “You got this,” Peter whispers quickly before they break away from one another. The turn, facing the same end of the rink as they start running. Actual running, on the ice. They go faster and faster until halfway through, they both drop onto one knee and lean into a deep backbend as they slide forward. The audience goes wild. Steve knows how much Peter loves Johnny Weir, a famous Olympic figure skater, for his unconventional costumes and choreos. When Steve told Peter they were going to use his signature move, Peter had been thrilled. They hadn’t been so sure about Tony being able to pull it off, but the man was way more flexible than he seemed, and here they are. Peter feels ecstatic.

Like glitter and gold Like glitter Like glitter and gold Like glitter

They slow down. Leaning back up. They moved into some sort of V-shape, closer and closer to the other, so now that their knees are almost touching, they pull each other in closer until Tony is fully kneeling and has Peter splayed out in his lap. The song ends. The audience almost starts to cheer, but not before Tony leans in and passionately crashes their lips together. Tony’s lips are salty from the exercise, yet so soft and firm and already contain a strange hint of familiarity. Peter moans slightly, deepening the kiss now that they still can. He’s reeling with the loud applause and cheers and confused noises coming from the crowd around them. He knows they made the right decision.

After a few seconds, he reluctantly pulls back. Turning around proudly and sticking his still good arm in the air. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone. Not with the people seated in the first row, not with Beck, who made his way on the ice for the standard post-choreo interview. Peter simply stands there.

This is me. He thinks. Mom and dad, this one's for you. I’m taking back control of the ice.

-

Masterpost Next Chapter (to be uploaded)

[mimiswitchywrites]

Not A Burden: Chapter 5

TW: SH references, attempted s****de and references, child/s***al a**se references (not graphic but enough that could be triggering). Vague r**e scene at the end.

Master list or read on AO3

2.2k words

If you want to be tagged for updates, message me or comment!

-------

Lancelot sat on the cot with Miriam (at an appropriate distance, of course) as she ate her soup. She had been in Camelot for a week, most of that time spent sleeping. She would eat and drink some water whenever she woke, and then Gaius would give her a sleeping draught and she would fall into another restless slumber. She was bored of it and Lancelot could tell. If the way she took her time between mouthfuls and asked questions about anything she could think of wasn’t a clear enough sign, the way she exclaimed “I can’t fucking do this anymore” certainly was.

Over the days she had been in the physician’s chambers, the two had talked a lot. She enjoyed his stories of adventures past, and he enjoyed the sarcastic comments she would butt in with. She rarely talked about herself still, and that frustrated him though he did his best to hide this fact. He could understand not wanting to talk about events that brought pain and, if what little he did know of her was anything to go by, most of her life brought her pain.

And so, he decided to help her create new memories that didn’t affect her in such a manner. How he would go about that was still yet to be discovered, but he was determined.

“I have a proposition, if you care to hear it, My Lady?”

The way he referred to her like that still brought a smile to her face. She turned to him, trying to figure out the proposition from the look in his eyes. “We are going to raid the royal vaults?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You wish to cut replace all of the king’s clothes with common fabric, so he is itching for days?” He laughed harder at this, wondering how long she had been thinking of that one.

“What a cruel woman you are, must I arrest you for scheming against the crown?” She giggled at this – a sweet, melodic sound – and leant against Lancelot’s shoulder, putting her bowl down on the bed. His cheeks warmed and he looked to the wall opposite him, hoping she wouldn’t notice. She didn’t, too caught up in listening to his breathing.

“What was your idea?” She looked up at him and he turned back to her. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

--

As night fell and the castle grew quiet, Miriam sat up. She had rejected Gaius’ offer of another sleeping draught, declaring that she felt she could sleep on her own for now. It was a lie, but a necessary one. Gwen had lent her two of her older nightgowns on the day she arrived – her dress being soaked in blood, sweat and a little bit of vomit. She pulled the light blue gown off, checking Gaius still slept first, and shimmied her way into the moss green one. It was slightly thicker and had a small amount of floral embroidery on it that Gwen had done when she was bored one week. Miri smiled at the thought. She took one of the blankets from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders as she tied her boots.

Her heart was beating fast at the prospect of sneaking out. She didn’t know her way around the castle as she was unconscious on her way through it the first time, but Lancelot had explained the path to her. She took a deep breath, smoothing her dress and fluffing her hair slightly, and made her way through the door. It creaked lightly behind her and Gaius’ snoring hitched momentarily but resumed soon after. Safely out of the chambers, all that was left was to navigate a large, heavily guarded castle that she wasn’t supposed to be exploring. How hard could it be?

Very, it seemed.

After what felt like an hour (but was likely only ten minutes) Miri found herself looking out into the courtyard with no idea how to get down there. The moon lit it softly, along with torches glowing through the lower windows. She could see a figure that she could only assume was Lancelot, waiting for her. She considered calling for him but quickly disregarded the thought: it wasn’t worth waking those in the rooms near her, just so she could have a midnight picnic with a friend.

Deep in contemplation, Miriam didn’t notice a new figure sneak up on her. It had been watching her from the end of the corridor for some time now and, deciding that she wasn’t going to move, it approached.

Mimicking her stance (arms resting on the railing, weight on the one leg as the other rocked on its toes), Arthur looked out. He could see The Rising Sun from here, and a few of its drunken patrons stumbling home to the lower town. They stood in silence, Miriam glancing over at him briefly before looking back down at the courtyard below.

Taking a calming breath and saying ‘fuck it’ to himself in as much of a kingly manner as one can, Arthur did something odd. Arthur apologised.

Kind of.

“I am glad to see you are well enough to leave your room.” She made no sign that she heard him and so he looked over to her and started again. “I have been thinking about our last encounter and talked it through with Sir Leon. He is one of my most trusted knights and friends and he suggested – that is to say, I thought it best that – I talk to you. I regret the way things went.”

She turned to him, glaring but with little passion behind it. “How heartfelt of you sire, I truly feel your remorse.” Her words were laced with sarcasm. It didn’t sit well with Arthur, was that not heartfelt?Being Uther’s son meant apologising was not something he had much practice of, he thought he had done a pretty decent job. Time for a second attempt.

“I am unsure what stories Lancelot and Merlin have told you but there is a growing trend of incidents in those woods. All too often we find people hurt and we take them here, to safety, and they exploit that. I have trusted people, and, in turn, they have hurt those I care for.” Her eyes softened as she listened to him. He stared ahead, refusing to make eye contact as he made himself more vulnerable than he had in some time. He didn’t appreciate the way a lump grew in his throat.

“My father was put under an enchantment by a troll trying to take his throne, a woman that I thought I was in love with tried to drown me, Merlin—” his voice cracked, Miriam pretended she hadn’t heard it “has been poisoned, ambushed, burnt and shot at. The knights too, but at least they signed up for that.” He took a deep breath, watching the way she processed the information. “I couldn’t let you do the same thing. I couldn’t stand by and watch you hurt them as others have. When I followed you, you were completely gone and I worried that maybe, maybe you had magic. While my views on that are not what they once were, it made me…” He faded out, not able to finish the sentence.

She stood straighter and gently placed her hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I understand. My reaction was not as it should have been either.”

“You don’t need to justify yourself, Miriam. While my experiences of your situation are few and far between, I can’t imagine you were thrilled to find people attempting to heal you. Your reaction to my wielding a sword at you was appropriate, it is okay.” She took her hand back, wiping away a rogue tear as subtly as she could.

“Now, I believe you have a lucky gentleman down there expecting you. Is there a reason you have left him waiting so long?” She let out a sudden laugh, wet with held-back tears and explained her situation. He bit back a laugh of his own and graciously offered her an arm. Hesitantly taking it, they made their way through corridors and spiral staircases until they were down at the large stone entrance steps as she had been days before. Letting go of Arthurs arm, she gave him a slight curtsy, and skipped down the last of the steps.

He watched her go, a smile forming on his face as he shook his head at her retreating figure. He was glad to be on the path to resolution with her. She seemed like a good person and he was glad that she was making Lancelot happy: the man had been down since discovering his affections for Guinevere were one sided, but Miriam was pulling him back if the smile on his face in training the previous day was anything to go by.

--

Lancelot was getting worried. After he and Miriam had talked through their plan earlier that morning, he had set off to put it into action. He made sure he wasn’t needed on patrol that evening and then went about gathering what was needed for a perfect picnic. First, he went to Guinevere’s to borrow one of her baskets (this was a short and awkward visit) and then he visited Juliana – a laundrette that Gwaine had been in a somewhat relationship with from Samhain to the Solstice – and asked for a sheet for them to sit on. After hearing what he needed it for, she also gave him some napkins and candles that she had spare. He made a note to show his thanks with some flowers and maybe some bread from the market when he returned everything the next day.

His final stop was to the kitchens. He had put this off for as long as he could, not wanting to see Cook unless he truly had to, but the time had finally come. He waited until she ducked out for her break and then made his way in. He started with the bread, taking a sad looking loaf from the back of the tray, knowing Cook was likely to throw that one to the dogs anyway. Next, he took a few slices of meat (it was Thursday which meant pork), and a small bunch of grapes that looked like they were on a plate waiting to go to Arthur. He won’t miss them. His final stop, a rushed one as he was sure he could hear approaching footsteps, was at the desserts. He took two sticky rolls and a small raison loaf that was falling apart.

Feast ready, he returned to his chambers to get dressed into something nicer and wait until the twelfth bell.

As he waited in the courtyard, he played over the instructions he gave her. He was sure he had made it clear how to get from the physician’s rooms, through the west wing and down the main steps. Maybe she had changed her mind, or worse, fallen ill again. Watching her growing so pale and hot, drenched in her own sweat, made Lancelot’s heart ache. He had got attached to the girl impossibly fast and seeing her in such a state brought him more pain than he could imagine.

He began to pace. Should I go and search for her? Maybe she’s gotten lost or stumbled and hurt herself? This led to another anxious spiral, not only at the idea of her being hurt but also for how he would explain such a thing to Gaius. His head would be on a spike in seconds, he was sure of it.

Heart racing faster than the King’s steed, lip thoroughly chewed, he settled on a plan. He would wait five minutes and then go in search of her. Just as he finished the third round, he heard the gentle patter of boots on the cobbles. He looked up and saw Miriam and, curiously, another figure that looked a lot like Arthur, who stood at the top of the stairs.

She made her way closer, and he took in her appearance. She wore a familiar green gown which looked scandalously similar to sleep clothes (he blushed at the thought). Her pale skin was tinged red from the cold which led to the chivalrous knight pulling off his leather coat to give to her when she reached him.

Miriam, looking over her shoulder to give Arthur a small wave, tripped over a raised stone. With arms tangled in blanket, she could do nothing to slow her quick and likely painful decent. But no crash came. Instead, she found herself wrapped in Lancelot’s arms as he pulled her close, steadying her.

“It’s nice to finally see your face as you lean against my chest, my lady.” Her face flooded with embarrassment and she did her best to stutter out her thanks. Her hands had landed flat against his chest, his grasping her waist. She looked up at him, their eyes locking. She blushed again and began to take a few steps back, wrapping her arms around herself. He let her go, smile plastered on his face and twinkle in his eye.

He lifted the basket which had been placed on the ground next to him as he waited, “Shall we?”. She nodded, took his arm, and walked in pace with him as they made their way through the castle grounds.

[ladytrelaw]

Its here!! Chapter 1: The Heart Of The Motherless Child

Read on AO3 or more below the cut !

Grinpayne raises a hand to his eyes, squinting. He is 14 years old, partway through a growth spurt that will eventually leave him a few inches taller than Ursus and at least a foot taller than Dea, and he has turned from their cart to find himself unexpectedly dazzled by the light of the setting sun. It’s winter, but it’s mild for the season, and the evening is crisp and clear.

He turns away from the dying light and stands back to review his work. He’d spent the whole morning painting the side of the cart, covering the faded and peeling white letters that had previously read ‘Ursus: Druggist and Potion Maker’. Then, when the paint had dried, Ursus had helped him map out the new lettering, making sure the words all fit evenly with nothing too bunched up or too spread out. Finally, while Ursus and Dea made dinner together, Grinpayne had painstakingly painted the new words on in white, his nose inches from the edge of the cart and his brow furrowed in concentration, his brushstrokes slow but smooth and even.

“Excuse me, master painter!”, an overly pompous voice calls, breaking the silence. “I was looking for my son but the only person around seems to be you! You haven’t seen him have you?”

Grinpayne rolls his eyes. “Very funny, Father”, he drawls, as Ursus slings an arm over his shoulders and ruffles his hair affectionately. The two stand and look at the cart for a moment in silence, the weak sunlight warming the back of their necks.

“I mean it, lad. You’ve done a brilliant job.” Ursus says softly, reverting to his usual accent and giving Grinpayne a one-armed squeeze. Behind his bandages, Grinpayne allows himself a small, private smile. He’s pretty proud of himself, too.

“Is it finished?!” An excitable voice cuts through the air, and Ursus and Grinpayne turn from the cart to see Dea, one hand on Mojo’s shoulder, skipping towards them around the side of the cart. Earlier that afternoon Grinpayne had made her a daisy-chain crown, and it’s still nestled wonkily atop her head, the green stems and purple-edged petals bright against the white of her hair. Ursus grins.

“It’s finished, child. Grinpayne is quite the artist.” Grinpayne shuffles out from under Ursus’s arm, embarrassed, and wanders over to Dea, who is clutching two small wooden figures in her hand.

“How are the puppets, Dea?”

“All done! ” She grins toothily, thrusting them out in front of her. “Did I do it right?”

Grinpayne takes one of the puppets from her, turning it over in his hands, familiar as his own bandages. After all, he’d spent hours studying one puppet in order to make the other, crafting his own puppet by firelight every night for weeks so that Dea would have a handsome prince to marry the beautiful princess Ursus had given her as a child. They’re delicate, intricate things, but lately they’d been getting showing their age; the princess’s dress wearing through and the prince swaddled in the only material that Grinpayne had had available to him at the time, a ratty old cravat of Ursus’s. Now, though, they are reborn, clothed in swathes of silk that shine and shimmer in the light, their hems and seams stitched in neat, straight lines.

“They’re perfect, Dea, truly” Grinpayne smiles, reaching for Dea’s hand and pressing the puppets back into her palm with a gentle squeeze. She grins.

“Can I see?” Ursus asks, sauntering up behind Grinpayne, but quick as a flash Dea hides the puppets behind her back, shaking her head emphatically.

“Nope! You have to wait for the performance!”

Ursus groans dramatically. A bit too dramatically. “But Grinpayne let me see what he’d done!”

“It’s the entire cart, Father, I couldn’t exactly hide it from you” Grinpayne points out, and Ursus splutters in mock indignation.

“Sorry!” Dea says sweetly, reaching for Grinpayne’s hand and dragging him behind the cart to get ready. “Those are the rules! Now announce us, you have to announce us!” It takes a few minutes, but soon they're ready to perform, and Ursus strides out in front of the cart.

“Ladies and Gentlemen and Wolves!” He bellows, sweeping his arms wide to welcome the ‘audience’; namely, Mojo, lying in the road with his nose resting on his paws. Behind the cart, waiting for their entrance, Grinpayne nudges Dea’s shoulder, and she grins.

“I give you, the one, the only, the new and improved, the amazing travelling wonder of Ursus’ Lotions….. Potions… aaand-“

Enough.

Grinpayne rises from his seat, his body spurred to movement almost before his mind catches up. He can’t do this. Can’t sit here anymore in the silence, with nothing to distract him from memories so bright they burn.

“Grinpayne?”

Dea is sat on the floor of the cart, back against his bed as she knits what appears to be a scarf but could turn into a sleeve, perhaps, or maybe a hood. She’s stopped mid-stitch at his sudden movement. He'd almost forgotten she was there.

“Bandages” he replies, the excuse out of his mouth before he's even consciously thought of it. “There's a river nearby. I won’t be long.”

She hums an acknowledgement and he moves to the door, squeezing her shoulder as he goes. Her fingers trail his for the briefest moment but he doesn’t linger, restlessness pushing him forward, the walls of the cart suddenly too close, too tight. As he steps outside he’s surprised to see that it’s dusk already; the daylight fading gently like a wave rolling lazily to shore. It's a beautiful evening, the sky stretching itself in a sleepy purple haze across the horizon, but Grinpayne barely sees it. He's almost insulted that the world would dare to be so lovely after a day like today.

At the edge of the road, by the tree line, Ursus is knelt in the grass, trying to convince a reluctant pile of kindling to spark a flame. He looks up at the sound of footsteps, but Grinpayne quickly averts his eyes, setting his jaw and looking straight ahead as he slips into the woods. Ursus says nothing, but Grinpayne feels his eyes on the back of his neck all the same, watching him go.

That's fine. Grinpayne has nothing left to say either.

Resisting the urge to turn and look back, he hunches his shoulders and sticks his hands into his pockets, wending his way deeper into the shadows. The undergrowth slopes gently down away in front of him and he slows, placing his feet more carefully than he usually would, holding onto trees for support, cautious of hidden roots or loose rocks that might cause him to stumble. The last thing he needs is to fall and injure his already aching body. To have to be rescued. Again.

It’s the first time in several weeks that they’ve been outside the city walls, and the quiet is almost unnerving. Back in Oxford, noise had been a constant part of their lives, a swirling babble of voices that only stopped briefly in the early hours of the morning, when the revellers had drunk themselves into a stupor and the market stall holders were still asleep. It’s easy to lose yourself in a city like that, in the noise of the crowd, but here, in the woods, Grinpayne is alone with his thoughts. He moves through the trees like a shadow, listening to the sounds of small animals scurrying away from his footsteps, of the birds that sing warnings of his presence to their friends as he passes beneath their nests. Such background noise is silence compared to the city, though, the sort of silence that allows half-buried thoughts to rise to the surface like air bubbles from the bottom of a swamp.

Grinpayne rubs his eyes. He's been trying not to think about the events of that day, trying to distract himself, but he’s exhausted, and here in the woods there seems to be little point resisting. He takes a deep breath of crisp evening air - cleaner here even just a few miles outside the city - and gives in.

His thoughts turn almost immediately to Ursus, of course. It’s been a long time since he’s seen the man so angry. After he had dragged Grinpayne and Dea out of the main square - a snarling Mojo at their heels keeping the mob at bay - he had rounded on his adoptive son, eyes wild, demanding to know what had happened. What Grinpayne had said or done that had caused the crowd, usually no more than morbidly curious, to turn so unexpectedly violent.

Grinpayne didn’t have the answers. Halfway through a swig of Crimson Lethe to dull the pain blooming across his jaw where a stray fist had caught him, he had almost choked on the unfairness of Ursus’s unexpected vitriol. Even now, hours later, he still feels the sting of it. But when he’d tried to explain what had really happened, he’d found his memories blank, his mind yielding nothing but an addled haze of pain and fists and shouting voices. Everything had happened so fast, he realised, it had all blurred together.

Ursus had been less than impressed. He had exploded with anger, red in the face, shouting at Grinpayne for being so foolish as to let the crowd rile him, to lose his temper so easily. The irony of his words had apparently been lost on him, and Grinpayne, shaken and frightened and hurt, had shouted right back. The situation spiralled rapidly out of control, and the two men were practically nose to nose when Dea, almost in tears of frustration, had shouted at both of them to stop being so foolish about the whole thing and be grateful that it hadn’t turned out any worse. To avoid any awkward questions about the fight in the square they had had to move their cart outside the city walls, which they did in stony silence, and in the hours since Grinpayne and Ursus have been resolutely ignoring each other.

A whispering breeze strokes Grinpayne’s cheek gently, and he shivers, his train of thought derailing and turning down a different track. It’s cool in the shadow of the trees, away from the road and the sunlight, and it’s enough to make him nervous.

It’s only going to get colder. They left the city in a rush without stopping to buy food, so for their next few meals they’ll have to take from the modest supplies that Ursus keeps in the cart. Supplies that, at this time of year, they should be saving, stocking up on, not wasting on unnecessary nights outside the city. If not for Grinpayne and his temper, they'd be eating dinner right now; something hot and cheap bought from a market vendor in exchange for one or two of Ursus's potions in their bright glass bottles. They'd pack up the cart and drive away from the marketplace to a quieter street to spend the night, no need for a fire in the warmth of the city, with Ursus telling them stories by candlelight of glittering faraway lands.

Instead, they’re a few miles outside Oxford, camped on the dusty roadside. Grinpayne thinks of Dea. Does she blame him too? Are she and Ursus, even now, complaining about how much harder he makes life for both of them with his outbursts of temper, with his hideous grin that has seen them turned away from more towns than he’d like to count?

Would they be happier if, instead of returning to the cart, he just just... left?

Grinpayne gives himself a little shake. That’s not a productive line of thinking. He knows in truth that Dea would be beside herself if he didn’t return; after all, no one else understands life the way they do. No one else sees the world as clearly for what it is, understands the pain and darkness that lurk in every corner. He could never leave her.

Recently, she has been trying to encourage Grinpayne to think of something positive when he gets like this, to draw him out of the black moods he finds himself falling into more and more often. He mostly thinks it's pointless, but he's never been able to say no to her, not even when they were tiny children. He ducks under a tree branch, wandering downhill, and tries to bend his thoughts to things that Dea would approve of. Like, for instance, the way that the dappled sunlight playing on the long grasses of the forest floor is beautiful, in a quiet, unassuming sort of way. Summer may be dying but she’s sung a beautiful swansong this year; for the past week they’ve woken every day to bright, clear mornings and gone to bed in sighing lavender twilights, a gentle breeze softening the glare of the sun and not a cloud to be seen in the sky. It’s been so dry that the small water-butt on the back of their wagon is empty, which is why he’s here. His bandages need cleaning, and he knows from previous trips to Oxford that a shallow river runs somewhere through these woods, even if he doesn’t know exactly where.

The lack of rain has given him an excuse to leave the cart. To leave the way Ursus won’t meet his eyes, the way Dea is stoically pretending that nothing’s wrong. To get away from all of it just for a little while. He’s not exactly sure Dea would consider that a positive thought, but at least he’s trying.

Above him, a hazel tree sighs and shifts its branches, letting a sudden fresh beam of sunlight slip through the canopy. It lands so directly in Grinpayne’s eyes that he’s blinded for a moment, and as he raises a hand to shield his face a fresh wave of memory hits him as solidly and unexpectedly as if he had walked into a wall. The smell of fresh paint. The crisp sharpness of a winter evening. Dea’s laugh splitting the air like bells ringing, and the warm, comforting weight of an arm across his shoulders.

Grinpayne frowns. It's a memory that seems to insist on haunting him tonight.

A different, more recent memory surfaces. The anger in Ursus’s face earlier that day, the fury with which he’d grabbed Grinpayne’s shoulders, fingers gripping tight enough to bruise, as though he could shake some sense into him.

Maybe he should have tried.

Grinpayne sighs, rubbing his face above his bandages. He's been walking for a long time and he's exhausted, but just when he decides to give up and turn back, the sound of running water finally reaches his ears. He follows the sound, drifting towards an area of the woods where the light is brighter, and eventually reaches a shallow riverbank edged with rushes and long swaying grasses. He crouches down at the water’s edge, wincing as a dull ache shoots through his side. He’s going to have a nasty bruise there, but that can’t be helped now. At least, thanks to Mojo's timely arrival at the square, he didn't sustain anything worse. He runs a quick glance up and down the bank and then, satisfied that he’s alone, reaches up to untie his bandages. The soft material falls into his palms and he closes his eyes as his scars are exposed to the air, the breeze drifting over his skin like silk. It's a pleasant feeling, and he allows himself a moment to appreciate it before he nudges the scarf he's wearing up over his nose. It’s not as effective as his bandages and it limits his freedom of movement, but it’ll do for now. As nice as the evening air is, exposing his face for too long makes him jittery. He reaches down to the water’s edge and submerges his bandages beneath the surface, the water bitingly cold as it swirls over his fingers, his palms, his wrists. Holding the fabric in the current with one hand, he shakes the other dry and reaches into his pocket, retrieving the small chunk of plain soap that he uses to wash his bandages. His mind drifts as he sets to work, his hands moving automatically through familiar motions he’s done a thousand times before. His eyes have all but glazed over as he daydreams about nothing in particular, gaze following the soap bubbles which float away on the water, when a noise makes him look up.

He blinks.

There’s a man on the other side of the river.

Grinpayne freezes. He barely even breathes; he may as well be made of stone.

The man hasn't seen him. He's crouched on the opposite bank just a few yards downstream, dressed in a distinctive grey uniform that makes Grinpayne's blood run cold. A soldier. As Grinpayne watches, he leans down, reaching out and messily scooping a few handfuls of water into his mouth. He’s close enough that Grinpayne can see the water droplets glistening in his beard, can hear the creak of his leather breeches, the clink of the metal baton in his belt. Knelt in the rushes and staying as still as he is, Grinpayne knows he isn’t immediately visible, but it’s an incredibly poor hiding place. If the soldier looks up, if Grinpayne moves even slightly, he’ll be seen, and the scarf he’s wearing doesn’t fully cover his scars...

“Parsons!” A voice calls, and Grinpayne watches in horror as a second soldier descends the bank. His hands, still submerged in the icy water, start to go numb.

“No sign of them, then?” The first soldier, Parsons, responds, standing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The other soldier shakes his head.

“Not yet. We’ve got orders to comb the woods and then move up the road; Anderson thinks they’ll probably stop to camp before long.”

Grinpayne feels his heart hammering in his chest, so loud he’s amazed that they don’t hear it’s pounding beat from across the river. They’re talking about him, they must be. Him and Dea and Ursus. He has to get back to the cart, has to warn them, but because he was idiotic enough not to thoroughly check his surroundings when he stopped he’s trapped here by the river, like a rabbit under the eye of a fox.

Stupid, stupid fool.

Parsons is nodding, looking thoughtful. “Seems a bit much, don’t it, all this? I mean we’ve all chased a bit of skirt in our time.”

Wait.

Grinpayne hesitates, daring to hope. Maybe they're not looking for him...

“Yeah but not the Judge’s daughter” the second soldier laughs, crouching for a drink from the river himself. “Her daddy’s got nearly as much sway as the Duke; if he says jump, we say how high. And anyway” he adds darkly, “you didn’t see him, the boy that went after her. I’ve never seen a face like that, like something out of a nightmare, like... like every pain you've ever felt, every fear you've ever had, all wrapped up in one man. Apparently the poor girl's practically hysterical and I don't blame her." He shakes his head, and his eyes grow dark. "A monster like that? Who knows what he would’ve done with her if she hadn't got away.”

It’s a lie, Grinpayne realises distantly, as he watches the second soldier slosh water into his mouth and spill half of it down his front. This judge's daughter, whoever she is, has lied about what really happened in the square, has told the authorities that he attacked her, that he tried to... that he...

He's struck by the sudden feeling that he might be sick.

Parsons shudders. “Gives me the creeps. I don’t wanna think about it.”

“Then don’t think” His friend replies, spitting in the river before standing up and wiping his hands dry on his trousers. He grins wickedly.

“Shouldn’t be too hard for you!”

Parsons barks a bellowing laugh, shoving the other soldier, and the two wrestle for a moment before wandering up the bank, chattering as they go. On the other side of the river, trembling, Grinpayne tries to remember how to breathe.

He waits until their voices fade to nothingness. Then he forces himself to wait a while longer, to count his hammering heartbeats until he is absolutely sure that they're not coming back.

Only then does he turn, scrambling on the grass, and bolt into the woods.

[popculturebuffet]

Hickman’s X-Men Line: One Year in Part 1: Prelude, House and Powers of X, X-Men and New Mutants (Hickman)

Under the cut is an explination of how hickman’s run happened (the mass decay will be covered another time probably), and dives into his x-books: house of x, powers of x,x-men and his breif run on new mutants and what i thought. Pax Krakoa baby. 

One year ago, I breathed a sigh of relief as I read the utterly masterful house of x #1.  See for the past few months, i’d been waiting on baited breath for this comic with a level of anticipation not matched by any before or since. Even the debut of a spinoff to Chew, one of my faviorite comics of all time that i deftnetly need to do a retrospective on, this week got within the same galaxy and it still wasn’t on the same level. This was big, grandiose and everything I hoped for. And whatever issues I had as House and it’s sister series came out slowly died out as the full story unfolded, my jaw dropped and my faith in Hickman to save the x-men was  fully delivered. At last the x-men were back on top. And it was going to be one hell of a ride.  

As you probably know the x-men had been treated pretty badly at marvel due to fox having the movie rights, a move that still baffles and frustrates me. Instead of making money to rub in fox’s face by promoting the hell out of them in merchandise, animation, video games and of course comics ALONGSIDE the avengers, they basically ignored the x-men and fantastic four to give fox less to work with to spite them while fox.. entirely ignored this as since both franchises have been around since the 60′s and the x-men had had mountains of spinoffs to give them mountains of characters. So in short: a decision to spite and hurt their compeitors only cost marvel money, pissed off fans and fox’s eventual absortion as far as I can tell had absolutely nothing to do with any of this. 

Thankfully marvel DID stop being stupid eventually and relented: The Fantastic Four came back a year before house of x with a decent run by dan slott, which is thankfully more like earlier spider-man work and ff work, and less like what his spider-man run became from superior onward despite the ocasional misfire but i’ll talk about both runs another day. I mostly bring it up because with this revivial, marvel also slowly reintegrated the four back into the marvel universe and made their return feel like a big deal.  The X-Men however took a bit: while they got an earlier shot at returning with ressurxion. Buuut with the idea of having hickman return in their back pocket, marvel apparently refused, at least according to cullen bunn who I fell has no real reason to lie, to let the writers rock the boat too much and the era perdictably was just meh, especially flagship book X-Men Gold which was written bafflingly by Mark Gugenhiem and outside of one or two good ideas basically felt like the comics equivlent of one of those party store albums where every song is a cover done by someone who couldn’t give half a damn. There were bright spots though with Cullen Bunn finishing out his awesome x-men tenure with x-men blue, Sina Grace’s wonderful iceman that took the wonky execution of Bendis’ decision to make bobby drake gay and made it work beautifully, and the decent if somewhat baffling x-men red. But overall it just felt like a missed opportunity and with the fox deal in bloom and a new EiC, marvel NEEDED something bigger, bolder and grander to do with marvel’s strangest heroes of all. After all all eyes would be on them while Marvel’s Movie department took a few years, probably longer now thanks to the pandemic, to let things cool off before bringing the x-men into the mcu.  Enter Jonathan Hickman: Writer of another one of my faviorite runs of all time, his Fantastic Four run, along with an enjoyable but heavily flawed avengers run, a secret warriors run i’ve read half of that was a hell of a ride, tons of ultimate comics, and a bunch of indies I haven’t read but are probably great. A wordy weirdo and i’m convinced the second coming of grant morrison, and I hope one day the two work together on something tha’ts equal parts weird and amazing.

The morrison comparison is also apt as both came into the X-Men at a time when the x-men badly needed them: Just like Hickman morrison had to deal with a largely stagnant x-men and changed them to fit the times. And yes unsuprisngly i’ll also be covering morrisons run, warts and all, and it’s also one of my faviorite comics of all time. However Hickman was given a huge advtange his spirtiual predecessor, and really few comics writers EVER have gotten: full control of the x-men line.  Unlike morrison who wasn’t even allowed to use certain characters despite writing the main fucking x-book, Hickman got full creative control: full say in the direction of the story, full say in who came on board and to let them pitch whatever they wanted to do. And honestly it’s an apporach that’s not only reovlutionarly but makes the books FEEL like their actually occuring around the same time. Sure their all still seperate entities, but it DOES feel like one coheisive universe. Contrastingly with the avengers Black Panther’s solo has had him on a year long sojurn in space, before returning to earth.. while also running the avengers over in jason aaron’s run and having his own spinoff team, without any fucking clue as to when intergalactic empire of wakanda takes place in relation to everything else. Tony Stark is currently just taking back both his own damn name and the iron man name in his own book, but is also a major player in avengers, and empyre with no mention of his seeming drunken spiral (itw as a ploy) or arno taking up the armor and I feel these issues rather than the neglect the x-men once had are why krakoa’s impact isn’t being felt more in other titles. I’m not saying don’t let books do their own thing, but I am saying let them have fucking consequences and weight instead of just acting like one isn’t happening or at the very least have a character be absent for an arc so you can fit the other stories into continuity easier. As X-Men’s shown it dosen’t stifle inovation and hell even immortal hulk easily fit into no road home with a fucking note saying “this takes place before x issue” it’s not that hard.  This advantage was likely part of Hickman’s terms for coming back. See the x-men were the one thing at marvel he never got to do. The Gillieon and Aaron runs and Bendis runs meant the spot simply wasn’t open and by the time he was leaving it was clear marvel wanted to bury the x-men not praise them, so his ideas had no run. But the X-Men were what got Jonathan into comics. A shocking fact I learned at last years comic con, during which most of the dawn of x titles were revealed, was he WASN’T a fantastic four or avengers fan as a kid, not hating them but like me with the avengers for some time, not really caring about them. But with both runs, he did his homework, read as much as possible, and BECAME a fan, and it shows as both runs show a deep love for both marvel and the teams present. With X-Men they were his dream, his golden goose, his windmill, he just never was in the right place at the right time... but with Marvel needing his starpower and creativity and having nothing to loose with the x-men and badly needing a big run to hlep keep intrest in the x-men till the new movies, he finally was. So seeing the company needed him and he could get his dream and the control he needed, while dc had just taken bendis, didn’t need him and until very recently was ran by a moron, his choice to come back to marvel instead of go to dc as he’s admitted, was obvious. And it ended up being the right one. House and Powers of x were massive creative and commerical hits and the following titles have all been mostly praised. The new direction has been a boon for the franchise,k the fans and marvel.  So being a fan of this direction, as you can tell by the massive intro, to give my thoughts on each book so far: what I think their doing right, where some went wrong etc, since I’d rather wait another year or so befor ediving into these and let some more of hickman’s plans and future story hints spread throughout his books pay off first. WIth that all out of the way it’’s time for a deep dive of x.So grab some plant based snacks, your x-shaped helmets, and your krakoan coffee, it’s time to finally get into hickman’s era of x-men. 

HOUSE OF X AND POWERS OF X The opening salvo and just with two mini series that are one, though why he DIDN’T just have them be one big mini series I genuinely do not know, probably to justify having two diffrent artists to carry the load, is an utter masterpiece. Plain and simple. Let’s get the status quo the series set up out of the way so I can dig into it more: Magento and Xavier were revealed to have been working together for years behind the scenes.. with Moira Mactaggert, one of my favoirite x characters who the series changes utterly and forever. See instead of being the one human who consitantly is on mutants side and one of the x-men’s staunchest allies who sadly hadn’t been resusrected in 20 fucking years, she was a mutant herself, her ablility being reincarnation.. and thus had lived through 9 of her 10 lives seeing mutantkind always loose so told xavier and magneto about this in the hopes of breaking the wheel and letting mutantkind live this time.  However hickman , while revealing the alliance does brilliantly still make it work in continuity for me: it’s clear from moira’s notes in one issue, as house and powers and any following titles love having charts or text based sections that I feel give the comics a unique flavor and really help boost most issues, that Charles optimism she was trying to break him of and faith in humanity took years to fully shatter: he plotted and schemed with her to protect his species but it was clear he probably felt it woudln’t be necessary that humanity would prove her wrong.. and by this series it’s clear, no they haven’t changed, the majority of them just want to genocide mutants and have tried again and again and again while the rest who don’t necessarily want it, paticuarlly the superheroes did nothing while Magneto chaffed against her after the whole “alter his infant self after he was deaged by a mutant he made into a baby to be more pacificsitc which naturally pissed him off when that wore off”. Yes that’s a thing that actually happened pre and post retcons it’s why a survivor of the holocaust is , while not a YOUNG man, still healthy and vibrant. It’s a clever way to not undermine those stories while still telling this one and this retcon is a move I like as unlike most retcons it’s both there to tell a good story and excuted in a way that outside of moira dosen’t undermine anything. The Moira retcon I was and to a degree still am mixed on. While the new version of her is brilliant, creative and intresting and I can’t wait to see what happens with her next time she shows up, I do mourn the old as the x-men had few human allies and now their only big one is now a mutant herself, but it IS in service of a really damn good narraitive and the twist that the bad futures presented were in fact other lives of moira was brilliant, and it’s nice to see SOMETHING done with her. I’d rather something that i have a small problem with lead to really great things and be worth the sacrifice of her former character, than just changing things because “fuck it I want to do this and their letting me do this’ as a lot of retcons tend to be. Hickman’s story needs moira and her cycle of defeat to truly soar to the heights it’s reaching, and to make Charles and Xavier’s back alley actions make sense, so i’ll glady sacrifce one version of a character that I really liked for another version of her that’s also really good.  The other big swing though I was completley on board for: Hinted at early on by serveral dead mutants being alived, after a sucidie mission against new big bads and mutant hating extermists orchis, who are far better written than other extermists,   it’s revealed just why death has seemingly taken a holiday: the big plan that has been decades in the making for xavier and co? That will reshape mutant kind and required working with mr sinsiter of all people? Revivie all dead mutants.  See in a brilliant reveal Cerebro isn’t just a mutant tracker; It’s a copier, copying their essecnes reaguarly and storing them for later, updating them every so often and thus meaning any who died can come back. Why it took Chuck so long to do this is also explained as he needed 5 specific mutant power sets to do it and thus had to wait till they had everything they needed: Goldballs, yes goldballs, spits out his giant golden balls, phrasing, which hickman in an insane and awesome turn revealed to be EGGS. Yes EGGS. Proteus, Moira’s son and former villian whose now pacificed since this body cloning process means he has an infnite suply of xavier bodies to burn through and thus isn’t killing people, warps reality to mamke the eggs viable. Elixir, a healer whose been through some shit the poor guy,gives the eggs , once injected with the mutant in questions dna via syringe because of course, life, and Tempus, goldballs former classmate fellow bendis creation and mistress of time, speeds it up a bit so they don’t have to wait a good few decades for some mutants to rerez. The fifth that makes all this possible is hope summers, mutant messiah and adopted daughter of cable returned to promence once more, whose power is revealed to be power maniulation and thus can boost their powers to the degree neded for this. it’s a BRILLIANT turn that not only undoes all the pointless deaths mutants have undergone, but changes the game: Genocide is now near impossible, as humanity has no idea bout any of htis, and instead of mutant lives going down, they can only go once.. as one man once put it...

And as an x-men fan having watched characters I love die again and again for stupid reasons, especially int he placeholder run right before house of x, this was so satsifying. Everyone the x-men had lost, every character I loved who was gone and forgotten.. they were back or would be back.  And thanks to Krakoa they were thriving: By giving mutantkind a homeland instead of a headquarters, a nation given to one of their own because he demanded itbasically, or an island fortress designed to give a dying species refuge, they have a goregous sentient island (I’ve always loved krakoa for the record though I wonder what happened to his clone son), with abundant food, teleporting gates across the world to visit wherever they like or live in the various worldwide habitats if they please, and peace and security they’ve neve rknown. No more being woken up to get to a panic room because a sentienl attacked. No more having religious maniacs blow up busses containing your tine. No more having the vast majority of the superhero community do nothing as a fucking plauge cloud wipes out your species. Anything apporaching krakoa now has hundreds of the most powerful beings alive defending all mutants.. and that includes the worst of the worst, all given amntesty.. but they must tow the line or else be given a fate worse than death. After years of pain and suffering and misery mutantkind is free safe and happy. They still have to fight to get the rest of their kind out of racist hands and to saftey, the fight’s not over.. but now the odds are in mutantkinds favor. It’s paradise.  And yet this mini, and this whole run dosen’t run from tough issues; The mutants are now isolationists and only mutants are allowed on krakoa itself.. on the one hand this is a bad idelogy and potentially dangerous, instead of fighting for harmony fighting for my land alone.. but it’s also see why Mutantkind has taken to it. The X-Men have tried for at the least a decade in universe and at the most and most likely 15 years to live in harmony, fight for mankind and make peace with them.. and only a small chunk has acutally tried to help them with that. The other large fraction? They either build death machines to try and wipe out all mutants, and in the case of Cassandra NOva who while not a human is still a racist genocidal bitch, SUCCEED in wiping out a large chunk, or do nothing while mutantkind suffers.  The series forces you to think about the implications that marvel comics themselves previous ignored: That with all the superheros in this world who arent mutants.. more often than not htey’ve done fuck all when terrible shit happens. When Genosha died, not a one asked the x-men what happened or tried to hunt down those responsible. When Decemation happened, the avengers were more concerned with helping the x-men cover it up than helping them move on and did nothing as the goverment made xavier’s into a reservation, even after regrestration happened and the goverment had more heroes than ever to spare to helping them. When the T-Mist happened years later instead of stopping terrigin or asking the inhumans to stop it for the good of another race, the rest of the heroes just did fuck all. Sure the avengers were on a budget and the ff were asbent, but there were enough heroes in the world still and enough teams to do something about it and only the ones with mutants on them did!. IT’s hard to say “well you shoudln’t exclude them”.. when the rest of superhero kind has been subtly doing it their whole lives.  But it dosen’t shy away from the claims of racial superiority the isoaltion or the fact the x-men basically sued for nationhood by making requiring recognizing their nation hood the price for trading for their life saving and extending, world changing drugs, which you would still need to buy. There’s other issues, one that i’ll get to in a moment as it was only revealed in x-men. Various characters, Corsair in issue one of the ongoing, the fincial summit in issue 4 and the ff both in house of x #1 and ff/x-men, all question this and some of the ethics. Hickman brilliantly decides instead of just painting the x-men as absolute moral rights, to show their new nation warts and all: the genuine good their doing and trying to do but also the price they have to pay for it and the mistakes they may be making. And the compromise necessary to build a nation. It’s all chiling, compelling shit that’s even more releveant in a time when bigotry is piling up like crazy. Both house and x-men, which i’ll get to in a second, ask questions with no easy answers and it makes them a compelling read.  Also compelling is the two mini series use of flashbacks: The two previous moira timelines, which we learn are just that as we go, are compelling with the apoclaypse timeline having loveable heroes were are heartbroken to see die in the struggle, while the last timeline seemingly sees the mutants turn as bad as the humans.. only to peel back a layer at the end and reveal humans are still very much the real monsters, and them evolving via machine is a threat to mutant kind's natural evolution. It was a good story twist and of course there’s FAR more to dig into in both books, and I defintely will at some point in the future as I said. But there’s tons of great ideas here: Sinsiter not only being a mutant but a reluctant ally, the same of apocalyspe, the heavy questions I got into above, the idea of machines being mutants greatest threat which makes a ton of sense, and the various ones I already went into. I can’t gush about this book enough, but since this is already long enough i’m trying. The point is both mini series are great and how you do a self contianed event perfectlY plenty of consequence, plenty of scope but enough character and brilliant ideas and a FUCK TON of quotable and iconic lines, all blend into one of the very best series i’ve ever read. And lead directly into..

X-Men I talked about a lot of what this book represents above as it’s a direct continuation of the above, but the book on it’s own is still something diffrent. while it continues setting things up, playing with the new toybox hickman set up, and asking the tough questions, x-men does it in a diffrent way. House and Powers bounce around through time while all telling one huge story and one huge bundle of setup for this status quo.  X-Men instead is a bunch of single issues. It’s still a ton of setup, though with enough payoff to house and powers that it at least so far hasn’t become tedious, especailly since hickman specifically has plans for all of it and has shown in the past he’s a long game man when it comes to storytelling, but through more action packed stories that, with the exception of mistque’s spotlight issue so far, have one shared element: Cyclops, aka Scott Summers, who as grand captain of krakoa is the nation’s ruling council’s go to guy for missions and who he himself can form any team he once for any mission.  Cyclops, like the x-men hadn’t been treated well for years; Various characters lambasted him after the phoenix force drove him mad and lead to him killing charles xavier, and before that his run as leader of utopia, not helped by x-force painting him as a cold heartless dickweed, had him forced to make questionable decisions that made fans turn agains thim despite the hard position he was in. But now with the burden of absolute leadership of mutantkind in other hands, HIckman writes scott beautifully and has restored him to his proper place.  WIth Xavier taking over as absolute leader of mutantkind and his race no longer hanging by a thread for the first time in years scott can relax and ENJOY himself. As the first issue shows he has everything he ever could have possibly wanted: A healthy marriage with Jean again, and an open one at that with him free to still see emma and Jean openly seeing Logan. Logan himself no longer trying to murder scott for his mistakes or kill his teenage self due to bad writing, but being his best friend again and also living with him and presumibly having threeways because they have connected bedrooms and of course jean would want both at once. Maybe they also just fuck each other sometimes again the details haven’t exactly been clear but it’d explain the tension disappearing. Maybe the schism would’ve ended quicker if Cyclops and Wolverine just fucked each other after children of the atom. Hey not every question is a deep personal one on krakoa sometimesm it’s just “Are these two fucking and could it have solved things faster in the past if they did?”. Also I almost forgot to mention, and added this near the end of writing this, in additoin to everything else scott now lives ON THE FUCKING MOON, on the blue area with a breathable atompshere, on a moon house with his family and fuckbuddy and Vulcan’s buddys. It’s fucking amazing. But moving back to other things scott’s gotten besides logan’s wang up his butt, as seen in issue one thanks to the gates his dad can now visit anytime, his brothers live with him with Vulcan going from genocidal dickweed to weirdo thanks to his experinces between his “death’ and this series, and he’s just. happy. And as a leader he takes the x-men on thrilling missions: the series combines action with character and worldbuilding and it is great.  The worldbuilding part has been tremendous; we’ve seen new foes in the returning children of the vault and horticulture, aka what if the golden girls were tv ma, and also plant based  supervillians plotting a better future for mankind that krakoa’s drugs clash with. We’ve seen nimrod creeping close, charles and magneto not playing ball with mystique start to backfire, the return of krakoa’s lost love, and in my faviorite arc, we’ve seen broo, one of my faviorite x-people and intellegent brood, eat an egg and thus become god emperor of the brood, not only giving the vicious race a chance to reform but giving the x-men a huge advatange in space, doubeldby events we’ll get to in a second.  And biggest of all we saw the crucible: Since those depwoered by the decimation can get power back by dying again, and to prevent overworking the five with mass sucidies krakoa came up with a nasty solution,: earning resurection via ritual combat. And like the above there aren’t easy answers to this: mass sucidie isn’t better or faster, but having mutatns forced to EARN repowering by dying brutally isn’t a great solution either and is kind of sick. And it also opens up questions about ressurectoin that Nightcrawler feels made need reegion to answer htem. It’s again good heavy instreating stuff.  We also got my faviorite issue #4 where the x-men go to a fincial summit, and while security detail cyclops and gorgon fight off hired goons...

Xavier, Magneto and Apocalypse discuss with world leaders about the implications of krakoa’s policys, with Magneto not hiding his love of flexing his superiority. And Charles ends the confrence, after it’s revealed one hired them in an utterly masterful moment: Taking off his helmet to reveal no this is charles, this is him and that even after they tried assintating him he has and always will love humanity he’s just sick of being treated like crap and suffering for doing it and his people suffering for it and he won’t tolerate this sort of shit again. See it for yourself it’s an absolute triumph:

 It’s a great scene. Overall an utterly great title that really keeps the momentum moving and I feel is only setting up for even more things.. the only real issue is that A) the title’s been slower at coming out than the other dawn of x titles, though in the case of the empyre tie in’s it’s not hteir fault but the rest sure as shit are, and B) that it has mostly been just setup but it’s been good enough and enjoyable enough and I feel payoff is coming, so I truly don’t care. At long last we have a main x-men  book that’s not only fantastic but uttterly engaging and I read most issues multiple times. An utter slam dunk

Giant Sized X-Men: This one is incomplete, so I can’t fully say what the full picture is.. but for the three released so far it’s a mixed bag, though the art in all three is gorgeous as Hickman brought on the best artists in the buisness but it’s telling that while New Mutants bellow had issues that bugged me but was still kinda fun, and the above havem y utter priase I nearly forgot to include these issues. None of them are bad and all have gorgeous art as I said, these are some of the best in the buisness, they feel padded. These were supposed to be annuals, but when they decided to change this to one shots.. they shoudl’ve just made them regular length instead, as there simply isn’t enough story here to fill them and so far only Davis’ issue has both had huge setup (both revealing doug’s fusion with warlock is a secret for some reason and that he is indeed still fully alive and revealing what happened to the x-mansion), and due to Davis background as a writer/artist the pacing to fill one issue and even then it could’ve been trimmed. Not bad and I don’t fault the artists for not being used to being writer/artists or having to do so while also conforming to a larger narriative which likely didn’t help or in the third one’s case having to take over for someone else entirely, but it’s , while not bad no ton par with the two above books and I expect better from hickman. 

New Mutants (HIckman’s Issues)  I’ll cover Brisson’s issues next time as they feel like a diffrent run entirely, but New Mutants was.. a disapointment. I was utterly pumped for this title going in being a huge fan of the team thanks to finally reading the claremont and sikenwitz run and before that re-reading abnett and lannings utterly great run and hey jonathan hickman who’d already done gangbusters was writing it! It had a great roster! 

And it starreed one of hickman’s faviorite mutants and one he’d taken a shine to on avengers, and one of my faviorite superheros, Roberto DeCosta, aka Sunspot. On Avengers hickman took Roberto , already a decent character and made him amazing. He was still rich, young and a playboy as ever.. but he used said wealth and his love of fun wisely. When undercover at an AIM casino instead fo throw down, he offers the agents a free day of partying and gambling on his huge dime, then puts them on payroll as his undercover agents. So to recap Roberto DeCosta won the avengers two valuable double agents in what at the time was one of their biggest threats.. by buying them tons of beer and gambling and presumibly hookers. And later got the loyatly of the rest of AIM through these guys, and when Steve found out tony betrayed him and went off hte deep end hunting him instead of stopping the end of the goddamn world, TOOK OVER AIM HIMSELF IN COMBAT WITH THE AIM SUPREME, and then formed his own avengers. 

Literally. He got his own avengers team, most of which left after the apocalypse but he simply found younger and hungrier replacements, and aim.. with blackjack and hookers. The man is a legend. And knowing Roberto if hookers were actually involved he probably treated them with respect and overpayed them because he’s a class act. Then under Al Ewing’s mighty pen, Roberto not only formed another avengers team since most of the avengers he formed to stop the end of the world were busy elsewhere, of young and great avengers, while dying of the aformentioned death cloud, but became an utterly brilliant chessmaster, only failing ONCE becaue of hydra cap getting into his head while AIM was working for the us goverment towards the end as the USAvengers. And yes that’s a real team. It’s as insane and beautiful as it sounds. And his new avengers once fought american kaiju, a godzilla with a flag painted on it chaning usa. Al Ewing is the best and I love him. But he also became a master stratigest and schemer with schemes within schemes within schemes, his crowning one being faking his own death and using his fake funeral to clear out any remaning enimies in AIm, and only quitting AIM to keep it out of goverment hands and in the hands of a trusted friend. He was and still is one of the best avengers there ever was and ever will be.  But here, as the new mutants go on a road trip to get sam? He’s a fucking dumbass who hires the worst space laywer possible, only gets off trial because Sam and his wife save them, glad they weren’t broken up by the way,  and is utterly useless most of the time. It’s like HIckman forgot the last part of his run.. granted time runs out isn’t very good but still, that wasn’t a good thing to forget and like Hickman wants to ignore ewing’s work for no damn reason, even though Ewing did great things with Roberto and kept him relevant when marvel was choking the x-men to death. It’s fucking embrassing and disapointing to see.  The rest of the New Mutants aren’t much better mostly being happy but also not really acting like themselves, with only mondo really standing out since he gets great moments and hasn’t done anything in a while. And Doug, who I negelcted to mention above is one of my faviorite mutants and thanks to being krakoa’s primary method of commuincation, is now one of krakoa’s most important mutants, has a seat at the council with krakoa, and weirdly has his best friend warlock hiding on his arm for reasons that haven’t been explained yet. In Short doug went from beign forgotten to being used awesomely again. Roberto instead of getting the same is set back as a character and ends the arc deciding to stay in space because he misses sam, and will likely become third in his marriage i’m sure, and wants to bone deathbird, x-men villian and frequent shiar usuper. But while rahne actually being happy is a good sight to behold they , except Dani, really dont’ do much. Though Magik gets a fucking amazing scene where she asks the various assasians sent ot kill them if they want to make out , not only revealing she’s bi, but that she’d prefer that to killing them all but does so when they dumbly refuse .. I mean seriously who, whose not in a relationship that’s open or way older than her, not take her up on that?  The plot their thrust into isnt’ great either, mostly just more setup but not present as well as in x-men about Gladiator giving the shiar empire to xavier’s daughter.. yes charles has a daughter that was created from his and his ex wife lilandra, whose still dead’s dna, and letting DEATHBIRD Of all people teach her instead of his damn self. Xandra taking over isn’t a terrible idea it’s just handeld poorly. It just feels disapointing.. like hickman WANTS to do a JLI style book here but the combination of him only doing one arc and not really wanting to write the characters as they should be, an issue that only pops up here and in the new mutants cameo during x-men proper and not for doug ever, that makes it fall falt.. I mean there are utterly great moments like the above, and hte image i used to lead off their just stifled by misusing roberto and everyone else. 

But overall hickman’s works on x-men  are fucking great, intresting and engaging. I’ve read the issues a ton and will again. One small mistep dosen’t take away from all the large good he’s done and he’s made the franchise feel alive again and hopefully the MCU take on it will take after this run, as it’d be a great way to break from the endless xavier vs magneto battles of the fox universe. So yeah overall 2 great books and a thankfully short misfire, HIckman’s on top. And next time we’ll see who he picked to help him carry the x banner home to us all, and who did well with it and whose stumbled a bit as part two delves into the rest of the dawn of x. For now subscribe for more comics stuff as I plan to get back on that, including I hope a restrospective on the fox era x-men sometime soon, animation reviews, and more fun stuff. And until then, courage. 

[writerman]

I adore your writing!! I was wondering may I send in a prompt? A modern au where Bard is a barista and Thranduil goes to get coffee but Bard keeps mispelling Thranduil's name on purpose until Legolas has to tell his dad that "Hey, dad the barista is flirting with you nbd" and he and Bard's kids end up making bets on which of their dad's will cave and ask first over coffee and homework (Legolas has college papers and he helps Bard's kids who are in elementary, middle and high school respectively)

Hey, thank you so much! I am very sorry this has taken so long to respond to. Life and all that jaaazz. I really hope you enjoy this.

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“Soy latte extra hot for… Tendril?!”

TENDRIL?

What on EARTH?!

He could keep it together, he would absolutely not make a scene in the cafe. But really, this was the fourth time Thranduil had gone in to grab a coffee before work and had his name butchered by the barista.

Today had to be the worst, it wasn’t even a name! 

What was more annoying than the name is that the barista was just smiling at him as though he knew exactly what he had done. Instead of addressing it Thranduil merely paid and stalked out each time always noting that he didn’t have to use that particular place. 

It was just that… as much as it annoyed him to no end seeing his name misspelt every time, he really enjoyed the coffee, it was close to work and, as infuriating as the barista was, he was also extremely good looking. 

Was that enough though? 

Apparently, yes. 

The whole name thing had been forgotten by the afternoon, and so when Legolas invited him out for lunch at the same place Thranduil accepted without a second thought. 

It was not until he entered the cafe that he remembered his visit earlier that day. 

Archer Coffee was a nice place, decorated to look more like an old tavern but with a modern twist with free WiFi and USB charging built into the tables. A family run business Thranduil had heard but it wasn’t something he was interested in looking into. 

All in all his experience there had not been awful, even the name thing he could overlook most days just that morning had pushed him over the edge for a split second. When he told Legolas the teenager gave his father a blank stare before bursting into peals of laughter.

“What exactly is so funny about someone being incompetent in their job?” Thranduil groused, his eyes were on his son but he was not given an answer and so moved his gaze to the menu. 

After what seemed like far too long, Legolas finally found his composure and clasped his hands together on the tabletop like a kindly old man might when about to reveal a pearl of wisdom to a youngling. 

“Dad, please tell me you’re joking and you know full well why he spells your name wrong?” There was a hint of pleading and amusement in his son’s voice when he spoke and Thranduil got the feeling he had completely missed something in his interactions with the man who made his coffee. 

He had, hadn’t he? 

Oh no. 

To save his pride, if that was even possible at this point, Thranduil drew himself up, his back ramrod straight. “It is obvious that the man does not like me. Though, I’ve not quite worked out why perhaps it is because I do not tip?” The response from his son was not comforting especially when he saw Legolas blanch thankfully recovering quickly but he did glance over to the serving counter before he spoke. 

He was definitely searching out the tips jar. 

“Uh… you should definitely tip. Why haven’t you been doing that and also the reason he is-” Whatever Legolas was going to reveal was cut off as a small girl barrelled into his side and hugged him all the while repeating his name over and over. 

Two other children appeared, one of them peeled the young girl from Legolas’ side and the other greeted him more appropriately. But it didn’t seem to bother Legolas at all and he got to his feet almost immediately after the girl was removed. 

“Sorry dad, my tutoring group is here. I forgot- ah, let me make it up to you later!” He grabbed his bag from down by his seat and waved off his dad before moving off to another table. 

Thranduil had no time to question his son but he had to admit he was equal parts frustrated and proud. The young man had a good head on his shoulders, while he would like to think it was mostly his influence, Thranduil could not help but think the boy was more like his mother. 

A pang of grief grabbed his heart for a moment but it was gone as soon as it had arrived. They had been without her for so long and yet it would oftentimes hurt more in sudden moments like this one. 

His phone buzzed on the table and proved to be a decent distraction from his spiralling thoughts. 

The barista obviously has a crush on you. 

The message was short and very to the point but Thranduil could only stare at it in confusion because is that how people flirted these days? They purposely angered the one they like? 

But of course, it was! 

Oh, how had he been so blind, hadn’t Legolas’ mother wound him up to within an inch of his life? Hadn’t they spent most of their time throwing jibes at one another until their friends had practically forced them to ask one another out? 

“One soy latte extra hot.” The cheerful voice had Thranduil jump and he scrambled to shove his phone into his pocket. “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” A chuckle followed and Thranduil’s coffee order was placed in front of him. 

“Is that your son?” The one-sided conversation continued and when Thranduil looked up to the one that had spoken they were now looking over at Legolas sat with two other younger teenagers and a small girl. 

“Ah, yes. It is.” It was all he could manage because this man stood beside him, this man that smelled like coffee and something fresh along with cloves was divine and maddeningly distracting. “I did not know he was tutoring on the side,” He offered more hoping he sounded cool and collected because his heart was beating so fast he was sure it might actually burst. 

“He comes in a lot. My kids love the way he teaches, as you can see they are his biggest fans.” Thranduil, in his state of shock, turned almost mechanically to look at his son and the barista was right, the children did seem rapt as Legolas spoke quietly to them. 

The younger child, she was interested but as she likely could not understand what Legolas was talking about spent more time colouring in her book than joining in on the conversation. 

“They are your children?” Really he already knew they were given that the man had already insinuated as such but Thranduil was having a hard time working out how to make conversation now. One handsome face and his confidence was obliterated because his heart wanted to do all the talking but couldn’t quite connect with his mouth and brain to do so. 

It was an overly romantic thought and Thranduil didn’t think he still had that kind of thing in him but apparently, it was just waiting for the right person and the right moment. Although, how could he be sure Legolas was correct and that the barista did actually like him? 

“Yep, all three terrors belong to me. I’m Bard by the way.” An introduction finally and it was casual enough that Thranduil could offer a smile and say nothing more but instead his mouth threw that idea out of the window. 

“Are you the owner?” 

Bard beamed upon hearing the question and gives an enthusiastic nod.

“Sure am! This place belonged to my parents who bought it in the 70s, when I got my grubby mitts on it I gutted the place and gave it a more modern look. Best thing I ever did was take this place on.” No more was said and Thranduil could not continue the conversation as Bard was called away. Thranduil had to try very hard not to be disappointed and busied himself with drinking his coffee, he didn’t have much time left before he had to get back to work so the peace was quite nice. 

Meanwhile, on the table containing the kids, Legolas watched the interaction closely and when Bard walked away he leaned back in his seat and smiled. 

“So, how much do you wanna bet it takes both of them at least two weeks to ask each other out on a date?” Both Bain and Sigrid scoff at this and set their pens down. There was no way they were going to be able to study now. 

‘With the time it took for your dad to work out he was being flirted with two weeks is too short a time frame.” Sigrid mocked and her brother nodded in agreement from beside her. “And he didn’t even work it out himself, you had to tell him!” 

That was fair enough. 

“Alright, so if they don’t ask each other out we have to do it for them?” Bain suggests and to that Sigrid and Legolas agreed. 

Eventually, Tilda piped up. 

“Will daddy marry your daddy?” 

The three older kids exchange a look before they shrug at the little girl.

“I think they will.” 

Legolas mentioned that they would just have to wait and see but secretly he had quite high hopes for the both of them. Even if they had needed help with being nudged in the right direction. 

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

Ok so maybe I shouldn’t call this Weekly Wednesday Reflections anymore since I’m terrible at writing it in time 🤷🏻‍♀️ granted it is Wednesday...just a week late 😅

I’m pretty sure this is my new favorite Ellick episode. After rewatching it, I’m just so- happy with it. From exploring Ellie’s range of emotions and character depth to the progress we saw in their relationship just 🥰

The opening scene already gives us SO MUCH. First, they jog as the cutest freaking married couple I’ve ever seen and this certainly is a routine because they knew to target him here. But Nick teasing her by sprinting, her struggling to keep up but giggling with each other because clearly it’s not the first time he does that little speed up thing & she’s working on getting faster because she used to hate training for marathons like- can you NOT. My heart can’t take the implications, ALSO Gibbs & McGee didn’t bat an eye that they just so happened to be jogging together in the early morning (everyone was only just leaving their house on their morning commute) so they know it’s their routine too and don’t even question it. GAH.

Flashforward to hospital scene with Ellie breaking my heart slowly. She’s clearly been crying by the red rimmed eyes, and yet also trying to hold it together to be strong for Nick & so she does the only thing she knows how to do since feelings scare her and the love of her life Nick just got hit. Ellie’s logical brain takes over as she does best (see 16x18 for reference) - when she’s dealing with emotions, all she can do is her job, it’s all that makes sense in the monsoon of feelings. She’s going to analyze every last bit of the hit & run and immediately parrot it back so that *something* can be done right away and she can find justice for Nick. She doesn’t care about her own health- just justice for Nick. And in that same vein, she doesn’t want to eat, she doesn’t want to rest, she doesn’t want to sit down until she knows Nick is okay (I’m sorry but to have a CODE NAME from the nurses because they feel the need to run from you- can you say “Crazy Worried Wife™️”??)

Kasie is our new captain, it has been decided. (I think this was already decided but I’m making an official decree) Her probing McGee to see his reaction because girl knows why Bishop is taking it harder, please. Then laughing it off for McGee, “we all gon need therapy if those two ever hook up” while thinking *boy you better stop denying because you KNOW they hooking up after this shit* is just 🙌🏼 the outright addressing of Ellick by the show- thank youuuuu.

Ok and now begins the Ellie show. Excuse me, the BADASS BISHOP SHOW. (Also why I’m partial to this being my fave ep). First- girl does not know how to holster her gun. Ellie: “you say there’s a tiny lead” *cocks gun* “let’s go” I’m herrrrrre for it. She’s blunt with everyone, she doesn’t care when Gibbs gives her the look, she don’t take no SHIT in interrogation. “You’d have to be [creative]” had me cry-ing 😭😭😭 AND THEN her equivalent of cursing out Vance over Nick, followed up by freaking out in the bullpen had me breaking on my couch. YES ELLIE GET IT is what I believe I chanted. The stare off, oh lordy. Y’all I was sweating I was pissed for her. Just the raw emotion in her eyes, the constant holding back tears and tears I just- 😭💔 and emojis don’t do it justice. I wanted soooo bad for her to land a sweet, sweet punch like she did with Victor, but knowing a second offense unprovoked wouldn’t go over too well, she held back. But aaaahh that scene was SO heartbreaking. And then, and THEN Ellie standing there gazing at his desk- oof. Her body language was key- her crossed arms, holding herself literally together so she doesn’t break?? She wants to break, y’all. She wants to break. Staying strong for Nick is the only thing getting her through.

When Gibbs sends her to be at the hospital because THE WHOLE DAMN TEAM KNOWS, I did a happy dance. McGee encouraging her but almost pulse-checking Gibbs after was very very intriguing. Gibbs’ “He’s a fighter” followed by McGee’s pulse-check, “so is Bishop...” and Gibbs’ exasperated look off towards the elevator and admission of agreement says SO MUCH. First- McGee is worried about not only Nick, but his sister, Ellie. He knows how much Qasim’s death hurt her, knows what she went through after- WHICH TIME OUT. For anyone saying this episode was OOC for Ellie? Sit the hell down and go watch 14x16. Then come back. Then continue reading. Ok resume WWR- McGee also knows how much more Torres means to her, he may try to deny it, but he knows. Implying Bishop is a fighter, obviously not about her health because *she’s fine* but more about what she’d do out of revenge. (And the man doesn’t even know Bishop is about to say she’s gonna kill him) Gibbs’ already sees himself a little in her, recognizing the same feeling he experienced with Shannon many years ago- hence the completive look on his face & heavy sigh. He knows he’ll have to revisit Rule 12 soon (but also in his mind he’s basically already burned it like Rule 10).

Speaking of Ellie saying she’s going to kill him, please see this excerpt from my notes during the ep: “FUCK YES BISHOP - the emotions!!!!!!!” That basically sums up how I felt the entire scene & commercial break afterward 🤷🏻‍♀️😂😂 My reaction when it came back? KILL HIM. But like in all seriousness, her face- holy shit going from on the verge of tears when they rolled Nick away to calculating her next move as McGee’s talking to her to making up her mind that she will be committing murder (please, girl already planned it & is just deciding which lipstick to wear during it at this point). Emily Wickersham is an amazing actress and I don’t care what you have to say. And yes, McGee trying to calm her down in a big brother way is adorable, but Ellie not having it is great. “Torres doesn’t get a say” is such a Nick thing to do of her 😭 Remember Luis going off on his own, yeah- this is Ellie’s version because she wants to & her husband is rubbing off on her. Oh also, the office she refers to? Totally means Ziva’s office at Odette’s - “if we missed something, I’ll find it there.” Hmmmm sounds eerily similar to *why* Ziva had that office in the first place, doesn’t it 🤔 also explains the lack of her on HQ’s logs and her “going home” excuse— which by the way, her shrugging them all off? Suspect Bishop, suspect. Her trying to play it all off with a wry laugh, not gonna lie, I love it. Her “too late” to Gibbs is quite interesting though- she sees herself going down that path any way, because she killed him? Or because she triggered a chain of events that will lead to it? Or because she may not have killed him, but lord knows she wanted to & planned it down to every last detail? Like I said, interesting.

Ok side note: Jack suggesting taking her off duty kinda pisses me off - with the spiraling comment too. She got to spiral when that guy from her past came & it screwed with her psyche, why the f can’t Bishop? It just rubbed me the wrong way, but I don’t hate Jack (don’t @ me, people.)

Back to Badass Bishop Show. She literally always has her gun out now. Just walking to the penthouse again where they didn’t try anything last time, *cocks gun.* When Gibbs comes up and tells her Nick is away 😩 Her relief though in the fact that he’s asking about her and he’s hungry (Ellie rubbing off on him, you can’t tell me I’m wrong) to go to the kicking down the door because that’s what her baby does so therefore she kicks down doors now- the parallels & the influence 😭😭

THE BATHROOM SCENE. McGee like seriously? You actually killed him?? And Gibbs like “oh fuck here we go again.” And then Jimmy had me dyinggggg. Theory alert: I really think Ellie (maybe Gibbs went with her & they’re helping each other with alibis/cover up??) went to kill him but got there after it had happened, that’s why she’s a little cagey about it- not that she *actually* killed the guy. BUT reference 14x16 again, I wouldn’t put it past her.

The final hospital bed scene has my heart. Ellie is so relieved and just so happy and open (but also a little nervous about what happens next so she hides a touch of her emotions, can’t let him see alllll of her heart now can we)- going back to their teasing ways, “worst pretend sleeper”, “next time jump out of the way” - UGH so cute. Side note, they use last names here almost similarly to the submarine episode. When shit gets scary real for them, it’s their way of grounding themselves almost, trying to hide just how much that incident actually affected them. They both do it & yes, it frustrates the hell out of me, but at the same time shows me just how much they care for the other 😭 BUT this time!! Nick made it take a serious turn, and I think Ziva finally got through to him- that sentence “cause you know I risked my life to save yours” is more him openly saying like oh shit I really did that 1. to himself and 2. to finally take that next baby step in their relationship. The emotion behind it showing her it wasn’t just because they’re partners- he wanted her to know that for sure, to make sure he didn’t just make light of it & glaze over it. He needed it out there in the universe that he Nicholas Torres, of sixteen different identities & no family, nothing to live for anymore, would rather DIE- than see Ellie in harms way. He needed it to be tangible for himself AND for her. Because this is growth, this is not what most people think of when they think of him.

And Ellie’s response: the look, hesitation building up courage, and making that first move of physical touch speaks VOLUMES about Ellie at this point. Not only does she take hold of his hand, but she rubs it in a soothing gesture. As if she needs to confirm for herself he’s really there, he’s really alive. The struggle she went through, the turmoil- wasn’t all for not. It’s her saying “I know” not just to the fact that she was joking earlier, she knows he risked his life & she’s grateful for that, but she knows it was more than because they’re just partners, more than just best friends even. That first move is her saying “I know” and “I might be ready to open up & let you in to the walls that surround my heart because the last time I was in a hospital staring at someone I loved, it didn’t turn out the same. Except this time, it took the hospital trip to really bring that into focus, and I know I can’t let that happen again.” Aaaaaaand catch me sobbing in the corner, it’s fine. I’m fine.

Nick’s reaction speaks volumes from him too, his slight shock to Ellie reciprocating & making that first move with his soft smile that is hinted at across his face to show he knows she’s letting him peak in, just a little, and that’s a start. A start people!!!

Last notes: Gibbs being such a dad and defending Nick liking his fireplace is the cutest. Vance was eager to get out of there at the end- his contacts are very very suspicious... And on that note, I really do not think it was Gibbs. I think Gibbs and Bishop may have gotten there after it happened with the purpose of doing something, so now they’re covering for each other, but I do not think it was either of them.

Pretty sure this is officially my longest review to date, WHOOPS. If you made it this far, congrats & thanks for staying with my inner ramblings 🙃 Like I said- my favorite episode so farrrrrr (now let’s see if we get anything AFTER this episode......lol I got jokes 😅).

[carolinahurricanesstan]

Dougie Hamilton x reader

It had been three months since you graduated from college. Unsure if it was because of that or because you were quickly approaching your 25th birthday, but you were spiraling. Not gonna lie, college was freaking hard and honestly, you were unsure of what you wanted to do but if something didn’t get you out of the house soon, you were going to go insane.

You had applied to a few different marketing positions, but nothing had materialized yet and you were frustrated. 

You decided to go and grab lunch with your best friend, (y/bf/n) one HOT September Friday and as you sat down at your favorite downtown Raleigh restaurant, your phone rang, but the number was not one that you recognized. It was a local number so you decided to answer it, hoping that it was one of the many jobs you had applied to. 

“Hi! Is this (y/n)?”

“Yes, it is!”

“Hi, (y/n)! I hope you’re doing well today! This is Shannon, head of marketing here for the Carolina Hurricanes. I’m calling in regards to your extremely impressive resume. We would absolutely love to set up an interview with you to see if you would be a good fit for our team. Are you free this week sometime to come in and chat?”

You were speechless. This was finally your opportunity. Quickly, you regained your composure and were able to choke out,

“Absolutely! I’m free first thing Monday morning! What time works best for you?”

“Let’s say 9 am? You can meet me at the North entrance of PNC.”

“That sounds fantastic. I will see you Monday morning at 9 am, Shannon! Thank you so much!”

“See you then, (y/n)! Have a great weekend!”

You smile at your friend across the table and she looks back at you with a confused look on her face.

“Who was that?” she asks.

“Head of marketing for the Canes. I have an interview for a position on their marketing team on Monday!” You were beaming.

“Holy SHIT, dude! That’s awesome! You’ve been waiting for something like this!” 

\\\

Monday snuck up on you. You decided to go out on Saturday night for drinks with your closest friends to celebrate your pending job interview and spent Sunday recovering from that. You were excited for sure, but now the nerves began to set in. You slept like shit, tossing and turning all night. You woke up around 7 am, groggy as all. You knew that you were really great at interviews, but looking in the mirror, you knew that you needed some work to feel as confident outside as you were inside. You drug yourself to the shower, turning on the almost-scalding water. After getting out, feeling a lot less groggy, you take extra time getting ready, being very meticulous with each step. You curl your hair into loose waves and apply your normal, natural makeup: a little eyebrow, a little mascara, and that’s it. 

You step back into your room, putting on the outfit that you picked out a few days before. A super flattering pair of slim fit, black ankle pants, a more casual shirt, layered with a modern blazer. You slide on a pair of ankle boots and stop at the full length mirror propped up in the corner of your bedroom. 

Pleased with how you looked, you grab your keys and head out the door. You lived 10 minutes away from the arena, so you jump in your car and turn some music on to hype you up before pulling out of your driveway and eventually onto 40.

You pull into PNC arena, familiar because of the many events you’ve attended, you go directly towards the north entrance. You quickly park and begin heading towards to door, only to be greeted by one of the friendliest faces you’ve ever seen. 

“Hey! You must you (y/n)!! I’m Shannon!! So nice to put a face with the name!”

You quickly walked towards her, shaking her hand. “Likewise! So nice to finally meet you!”

You two begin walking inside of the building, she starts: “So, nothing to be nervous about! We loved your resume and just wanted to familiarize you with our organization before we officially offered you the job.”

You two arrived in what appeared to be the offices for the staff and you were mesmerized. Hockey in Raleigh hadn’t been much of a thing to write home about until two years prior, when they qualified for the Stanley Cup Playoffs for the first time in a while. You’d been to a few games, but to be honest, you didn’t know a whole lot about the team. You knew about hockey because your college had a team, but you never really cared about who the players were.

Shannon continued to talk and fill you in on the history of the team, who the leadership was, and chat about the upcoming season. You were engrossed in every word she said. She asked a few questions about you, seeming to really like your answers. The atmosphere here was incredible, everyone was buzzing with excitement, which in turn, made you excited. While invigorating, everyone was extremely friendly and laid back, including Shannon.

Finally, your tour came to a stop as Shannon led you into a conference room. She had some paperwork laid out on the table as she took a seat and gestured for you to sit across from her. As you sat, she began talking.

“I have been given pretty open freedom to do whatever I need to do to make this marketing team the best in the NHL. I do not beat around the bush at all and so, I’d like to formally offer you this position on our marketing team. I think that you could really bring a lot of incredible energy and ideas to our team and to Carolina in general and we would love to have you.”

Your smile took up your entire face. 

“You guys seem like an amazing group of people to work with and I would be totally honored to accept.”

She smiled back at me, “Awesome!! Welcome to the team, (y/n)! Let’s go meet the boys and then, we’ll come back and fill out this paperwork!”

///

Shannon leads you down a hallway, chatting you up the entire way. You’re halfway present, nodding along and smiling at what she’s telling you about the team, but your excitement is making it hard to focus on anything at all.

Finally, you walk out of the hallway into one of the openings leading to the rink. You recognize that you’re now beside the bench. She informs you that the guys are doing their morning skate. She motions a man over and introduces you to him. His name is Rod, the head coach. He shakes your hand, firmly, and welcomes you to the team. He seems friendly and warm, just like everyone else you’ve met, but you can also sense that he does not handle nonsense, at all.

Shannon asks him to bring the boys over for them to meet you as well. This terrified you a little, because as you’re scanning, you realize that these are not busted up hockey jocks, missing teeth, but these are young looking guys that are intimidatingly handsome. As she introduces you to the guys, you become a little self-conscious as a lot of them come to shake your hand, each giving you his name as he does. 

“(y/n) will be working specifically with creating our social media content and maintaining it. She’ll be doing an array of things in regards to working with you, including photographing and helping with video work. Her accomplishments are super impressive and we are so excited she’s decided to be apart of our organization.”

The guys all clap, a few even cheer and yell, for you as Shannon finishes up her announcement regarding you. You don’t typically blush, but as you’re standing there, talking to Shannon, you can feel it beginning to rise up your neck as you realize some of the guys are studying you as they skate back out.

Shannon sits on the empty bench and motions for you to join her as she begins telling you how she got started with the Hurricanes a few years back. You’re listening along, scanning over each guy on the ice. One in particular catches your eye and you realize it’s one of the same ones you caught looking at you earlier when Shannon was introducing you to everyone. 

He was tall. Like, really tall. You were only 5′3, so it didn’t take a lot for someone to be taller than you, but he was probably the tallest on the ice. You realize that you hadn’t been introduced to him when you met a majority of the other guys,

Shannon’s phone began to ring and she excused herself, leaving you alone for a minute to continue watching from the bench.

You continued to watch this tall man. He took his helmet off momentarily to expose his blonde hair. You also noticed his beard was gingery and he had probably the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. Definitely your type. He skated over towards the bench to retrieve a gatorade and you felt your body stiffen a little when you realized he had caught you studying him.

As he got closer to the bench, he plopped down on it, breathing heavily from the drills he had just run and drinking from one of the bottles. You knew that you were blushing now. How could you not? He was freaking handsome. You avoided looking at him by pulling out your phone, but you could feel his gaze.

He swiftly put himself back over the wall, but not before stopping on the ice directly in front of you, causing you to look up at him. He smiled and stuck his hand out. He cleared his throat and said, “Hey, (y/n). I just wanted to introduce myself after you got bombarded by the rest of the guys. I’m Dougie.” 

His voice startled you a little. It was deep, with a slight rasp, and smooth as butter. Trying to pull yourself together, you shook his hand and smiled back at him. God, he was handsome. “It’s so nice to meet you,” you managed to get out. 

He held onto your hand a bit longer than a normal person would, holding eye contact with you, causing you to giggle and divert your eyes. He finally let go and added, “I should probably get back to morning skate before Roddy gets me. I’m looking forward to seeing you around, (y/n).” He smiles at you again before skating off to rejoin his teammates.

You finally release the breath it feels like you’ve been holding onto for an hour and look out at the ice one more time, catching eye contact with Dougie again, finding him smiling at you before running the drill he was apart of. 

Shannon finally ends her call and comes back to where you are, smiling at you. “You ready to go fill out your paperwork?”

///

Your first official day was a few days after you’d been hired. You knew that the season didn’t start for a few weeks and Shannon informed you that this was a big time for the marketing team to push out a lot of content to get the fans excited about the coming season. Fan attendance was up the last two years, but they really wanted to continue pushing out content that helped them get to know the players and feel connected with all of the boys. 

You guys had brainstormed a ton of new video ideas for the youtube channel, a few new promo shoots to get done, photo and video, and now the ideas just needed to be executed.

In the weeks leading up to the beginning of the season, you had been trusted to take the lead on a few of the different video projects and you were hooked. You loved being around the guys. They were freaking hilarious and so fun to be around. The repertoire they had with each other was dynamic and there was no denying that they all cared about each other. 

There had been a few moments during filming videos and photoshoots that you and Dougie had exchanged. Glances, short, friendly conversations. You were trying to remain professional and keep work and private life separate, but it was hard to do here. This was one of the most laid back environments you’d ever been in and you loved being able to open up and be yourself.

On the way to your car after work that day, you felt your phone buzz in your hand. You waited until you sat down in your car to unlock it and see a text from an unfamiliar number.

“You have been brilliant the last few days. It’s incredible to see you do what you’re so passionate about. Can’t wait to see you at the game this week. - DH”

Ah, Dougie. You smiled down at your phone for a minute before responding. He was so damn good looking and you admit, you’d caught yourself staring a little too long or scanning him up and down, longing to just reach out and touch him. 

“You’re too kind. See you then. ;)” 

You debated leaving the winky face off, but decided to leave it. You were feeling a little more adventurous than usual.

//

Before you knew it, the season was starting. You were buzzing because you got to photograph the game from beside the bench. The arena filled up quickly and you got to witness your first game as a staff member. The crowd was insanely loud. You spent the first two periods in awe, snapping photos during play, letting yourself get sucked in. There were a few times that you felt a few eyes on you from the bench, but you assumed you were being ridiculous. Once, you happened to glance over to catch a particular blondie watching you before he looked away. 

You grinned at the thought of Dougie being embarrassed that you caught him watching you, especially since you’d been watching him for most of the game. 

Towards the end of the third, the Canes were up two points with 2 minutes left in the period. Dougie came off of a shift and sat at the end of the bench, right beside where you were. He tapped your leg with his stick and smiled over at you. You smiled back at him. God, you hadn’t looked at him that close in person in a while. You guys had been so busy prepping everything for this night that you had been running around like a mad woman.

You both turned your attention back to the game as the clock wound down to zero. Dougie flashed a smiled at you as he and the other guys went out onto the ice to celebrate their first win of the season. You followed out onto the ice to grab photos of the storm surge, as you knew that was tradition that was so important to everyone.

//

You were in your office, packing up your equipment as you imported the images and videos onto your computer. You sat back in your chair, waiting for the import to finish, as your scrolled through your phone. You heard a knock at your door and you look up to see a freshly-showered Dougie in his pre-game suit that he had shown up in earlier today. 

“Hey, get any good shots tonight?”

You chuckled, knowing that this was a joke you had made with each other before, during the countless video and photo shoots you’d done with the team that last few weeks. 

You held eye contact with him, still chuckling, “You know I did. Did you”

This caused him to laugh as well, “Man, I could have sworn you watched me score that goal. I’m hurt that you didn’t.”

You both giggled before he came and sat at the chair in front of your desk. As he sat down, he looked slightly nervous, maybe uncomfortable? 

“So, I’ve been trying to push this off because you work for the team, but the more I think about it, the more I realize how unfair it is for me to not do this and always wonder what if.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure of where this was going. Yeah, you guys had been friendly with each other, but a lot of the guys had been friendly. You were super attracted to Dougie, but you didn’t think anything different of the way he’d treated you vs the rest of the guys.

“If you are not interested, feel free to say no and we will forget this whole thing ever happened. But, I was wondering if you wanted to go grab a post game meal with me, (y/n)?”

You were slightly stunned. You wanted this, so you finally mustered up the confidence to respond. “Uhm, absolutely. I would love that!” 

///

DOUGIE’S POV

I was nervous, but good nervous. I hadn’t wanted to date anyone since I came to Carolina, but she was different. She was this presence that really lit up any room she was in. She was brilliant, thoughtful, hilarious, and always made anyone she talked to feel like the only person in the room. It was no secret that she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. A lot of the boys on the team shared that opinion with me, how could they not?

I sat there, after putting myself on the line to ask her to hang out, nervous as fuck, hoping and praying she’d say yes.

She looked up at me with those beautiful eyes and that killer smile and accepted my invitation. 

Thank God.

 She closed her laptop on her desk and stood up, putting it in her bag.

“Ready to go?”

She looked up at me and flashed that heart stopping smile. “Yes, please.”

The whole way out to the parking lot, I wanted to hold her hand so bad. Ever since meeting her, I have had this desire to make her feel secure and safe, and walking with her now was no different. I didn’t understand the effect that she had on me, but I didn’t feel the need to fight it at all. 

I knew which car was hers and had made a point when I got to the arena today to park near her. 

“So, I thought that we could run through a drive-thru since it’s so late and then I have a secret spot that I want to take you to.”

She smiled at me as we approached the cars. “That sounds perfect.”

Every time she smiled at me, my stomach did a backflip.

///

(Y/N) POV

He offered to drive or gave you the option to drive separately, but you just wanted to be around him. In this moment, his presence was intoxicating.

He held his car door open for you, carefully closing the door before he retreated to the driver’s side. He smiled at you before starting the car and driving out of the arena. He asked what your drive thru guilty pleasure was and happily obliged, heading in the direction of it.

You both asked a few questions back and forth, easily filling your time with quality conversation on the way to whatever he had planned for you.

After pulling away from the drive thru, he drove for a few minutes, before turning down a road you were unfamiliar with. He parked and walked around to open your door. He opened his trunk and pulled out a blanket and you followed him as he began walking. Finally, you stopped in an opening and he gestured for you to look out into the field. You could see the entire city lit up in the distance. It was beautiful. He watched you sheepishly for your reaction.

“I figured we could sit out here, eat, talk, and look at the city or the stars.”

You were stunned, but in the best way. You looked up at him, with the biggest grin on your face. “Dougie, this is gorgeous.”

///

It had been probably close to two hours that you two had been sitting in front of the city, under the stars. To be honest, it felt like a fairytale to you. You were convinced that you could do the most mundane task with Dougie and it would feel like the lottery.

The more you talked to him, you realized how incredible he was. He was arguably the most handsome guy you’d ever seen. He was intelligent. He always seemed to be hinged on every word you said. He made you feel like you were all that mattered in the world.

You felt your adrenaline coming down and decided to lay back on the blanket and look up at the stars. Dougie did the same. You two continued your conversation, taking turns talking about anything and everything.

Before you knew it, it was 4 am. Dougie offered to take you back to your car at the arena but you knew that you lived close to his apartment from the last time you filmed a video with him and the boys, so you asked if he could just drop you off at your apartment. He obliged. After he opened your door for you and got into the driver’s seat, you said, “thank you again for dropping me off. I’ll just catch an Uber in the morning for work.”

“That’s nonsense. I’ll just swing by and pick you up.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you get up any earlier than you have to.”

“Nonsense. It’s not an imposition at all.”

You smiled out towards the window. The feelings that you were developing for Dougie were intense. You guys had spent the night talking about things that made it feel like you’d known him your entire life. Something about him made you want to open up and share everything you’ve ever said or done with him.

Part of you felt like he knew the effect he had on you. He glanced over, catching you smiling, trying to hide it. He contemplated for a second but decided to slowly reach over, resting his hand on your knee. He didn’t want to be too forward, but you had the same effect on him as he did you. He knew it was risky because this was the first time you’d hung out.

You smiled over at him before resting your hand on top of his. He was so warm and his hand almost engulfed your entire knee. He was perfect.

He finally pulled up to your apartment building. He parked on the street and got out to come and open your door. He grabbed your bag from you and offered to walk you up to your door.

As you got to your apartment door, you turned to face him. He held your bag out for you to take. You smiled, thanking him for such a lovely night. He smiled back at you. You loved that smile.

He debated kissing you. He had wanted to since he met you on your first day. He decided against It and pulled you in for a hug instead, opting for a kiss on the forehead instead.

Without breaking the hug, he said, “(y/n), thank you for spending tonight with me. You are incredible, truly. Can we do this again sometime? I would love to take you out for a nice dinner or maybe I can cook you dinner?”

You smiled into his chest, before slightly pulling away to look up at him. “I would love that. I’m free Thursday night?”

“Thursday night is perfect.” He smiled down at you, kissing your forehead one more time before pulling away. “Goodnight, (y/n)”

“Goodnight, Dougie” you said before unlocking your door and going inside of your apartment. You rested your back against the door, not wanting to move as you recounted the night, trying to remember every little detail about him. The way he smelled when he hugged you, how safe you felt with him.

You heard your phone ping with a text message. You took it out of your bag, wondering who would be texting you at this hour. It was a text from Dougie:

“Thank you again for tonight. You’re an incredible woman. I can’t wait to see you in the morning. x Dougie”

His message made you smile so big that your cheeks hurt. You were smitten.

///

Thankfully, you weren’t due in to the office until 10 the morning after weekday games, because you felt like you slept for maybe an hour. As you were almost done getting ready for the day, your phone pinged with a text from none other than Dougie.

“Hi gorgeous. Stopping for coffee. What can I bring you? :)”

You couldn’t stop smiling. God, he was perfect. You sent him your coffee order, along with a thank you, and continued getting ready. You had just slid your shoes on when you heard a knock at your door. You opened it and there he stood with that heart stopping smile, holding out your coffee for you to take. 

As you took it, he bent down and kissed your cheek. “How did you sleep, (y/n)?” You almost didn’t answer, caught up in his smile and the way he says your name. “I hardly slept at all, if we’re being honest.” Saying this, you threw a cheeky little smile in his direction. “But, I’m not mad about it at all,” you added, winking at him. 

You start to see a blush rise up on his cheeks and he looks down towards his feet, smiling he entire time, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. You’d never seen him like this before. He was almost bashful. This caused you to smile softy before saying, “we should probably get going.”

///

The car ride to the arena was anything but quiet. You loved talking to Dougie and the feeling was mutual. You brought out a side in him you’d never seen being around him at work. Halfway through the ride, he reached over and grabbed your hand. A warmth washed over here. You loved being around him. There was such a security with him, knowing that if you were his, he’d take care of you always.

///

You had spent the whole week thinking about your upcoming date with Dougie. You could not stop thinking about him. Every second of every hour. You caught yourself sending him quick little texts throughout the day. He came to your office and ate lunch everyday. You couldn’t wait to spend more time with him, away from work.

Thursday finally came. As your workday was coming to a close, your phone buzzed with a text.

Dougie: “Hey beautiful. Roddy let us out early today, so I’m running to get things for dinner tonight. Meet me at my apartment when you’re off?”

You: “I’ll be there. :)”

///

You didn’t even want to go home and change before heading over to Dougie’s. You just wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. There was an away game Sunday, so both of you were off the next day. 

You parked outside of his apartment building, shooting him a text before heading up. You were greeted by him at his door. He pulled you in for a tight hug, pulling you into his apartment in the process. With your face against his chest, you breathed it. His scent never got old. You pull away to look back at him. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and slim fit jeans that fit him in the best possible way. God, he’s fit. You were so lost in your thoughts of him that you didn’t realize that he was watching you sum him up. He laughed and closed the gap between you, wrapping you into his arms again.

He brought one of his hands up from you waist to the side of your face, brushing your hair away and tucking it behind your ear. His eyes were intense, like he was deep in thought. After rubbing your cheek with his thumb, he was tired of waiting. He couldn’t handle his desire to be closer to you anymore. He brought your face closer to his, closing the gap between your lips, kissing you with the most intense passion you’d ever felt. He pulled away, that sheepish Dougie grin taking over. 

“I’ve been waiting to do that for a while now,” he smiles, forehead still resting on yours.

“Me too,” you chuckle.

///

Watching Dougie in the kitchen was the most attractive thing you’d ever seen. While he was working, you just imagined your life after this moment, with him. Seeing this all of the time. 

After making you the most incredible dinner, you guys ended up on his balcony, with a bottle of champagne, giggling like school children, sharing the occasional kiss, him sitting in a chair, you sitting on his lap, one arm around your back, the other resting on your thigh. You were so infatuated with him.

///

You felt yourself begin to get more and more tired. Unable to fight it anymore, you laid your head down on Dougie’s chest, feeling yourself floating between being asleep and being awake, still conscious of where you could feel his skin touching yours.

“I should probably head home,” you say, into his neck, where you’ve nuzzled into him.

“No, no,” you hear him mumble into your hair. “Just stay here. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your bed,” you mumbled, still pressed into his neck, sleepily.

He is getting ready to object when you say, “I’ll stay, but under one condition: you have to stay with me.”

He contemplates for a minute, unsure of if it’s the champagne or the sleep talking, but he just wants to be close to you. Without saying anything, he scoops you up, bridal style, and carries you into his room. Setting you down so that you’re standing in front of his dresser, he pulls out some sweats and a canes t-shirt, handing it to you and kissing you quickly before he leaves the room for you to change. After you’ve changed and thrown your hair into a messy bun, you walk into the kitchen, finding him cleaning up from the dinner you two shared.

You smile to yourself. Eventually, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. You heard him chuckle a bit before turning around and engulfing you into a hug. He ran his hands up and down your back.

“You look nice in my clothes,” he said, examining you, up and down.

You giggled, looking up at him, getting lost in those eyes.

“You ready for bed, gorgeous?”

You nod at him. He takes your hand and you walk with him back into his room. You stand behind him as he pulls the blankets back for the two of you. He gestures for you to lay down and as you do, he covers you up before removing his shirt and walking to the opposite side of the bed.

You turn to face him, finding his bright eyes already studying you. You grin slightly, soaking in all of his features one by one. You reach out and run your hand through his beard, seeing a smile play on his lips as you felt the stubble on your fingertips. Holding eye contact, you could see that his eyes were intense, studying your face more intently than you’d ever seen before.

Seemingly all in one motion, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his body, face face only inches from yours. He smiled big before pulling you in for another kiss. Since your first earlier, this was all you had craved. His lips were soft and tender. You felt his hand move to your cheek, pushing your hair back. You deepened the kiss, running your hands into his hair, down his bicep, before stopping at his forearm. 

You felt his kiss throughout your entire body. He was electric. All too soon, you pull away to catch your breath. Foreheads still pressed together, you hear him, barely above a whisper, “You are all I’ve thought about for days now, (y/n). You drive me wild in the best way possible. Everything that you are...” he pauses and begins stroking your hair, “is everything that I’ve looked for for so long. You make me want to be the best version of myself. For you. For us.”

His words cascaded over you like velvet. You let them soak into you, hanging onto every word he said. You’re lost looking for words to have the same effect on him that he’s had on you. You decide to kiss him in response to what he’s said. 

Things become more heated the longer you two kiss. Hands begin to wander. You feel his large hands run down your back, down to your bottom. After giving you a little squeeze, he runs his hand down to the back of your knee, swiftly pulling you up, so that you were straddling him. You smirked into the kiss before kissing him harder.

///

You woke up to sunlight beaming in on your face with strong arms wrapped around you tight. You felt him brush your neck with his lips.

“Good morning. You are so incredibly beautiful first thing in the morning.”

His raspy, morning voice paired with him mumbling into your neck, made him more attractive, not knowing that that was possible. Being here with him, you knew that you never wanted to do this with anyone else...like ever.

///

You laid there with him for the longest time, listening to the two of you breathe, exchanging secrets in the form of glances. Unknown to you, he was feeling the same way you were. You had never felt this way before and he hadn’t either.

///

You two decided to spend the day together, starting with brunch after a lazy morning spent between the sheets together. You ventured downtown after stopping by your apartment to change out of Dougie’s clothes that you had slept in. You offered them back to him, but he smiled and sheepishly told you to keep them.

Dougie drove you downtown to his favorite brunch spot. As you parked and were walking, he reach for your hand.

“I hope this is okay. Y’know, doing this in public. We really haven’t done that yet.”

You just smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze to let him know that you didn’t mind. 

“It’s great. Really.”

///

You two had the best conversation over brunch, delving deep into topics that you hadn’t yet talked about. After you were done eating, he reached across the table to take your hand, as he’d done before your food arrived, and held eye contact with you, before saying:

“(y/n), I have something to say to you, just because I always want to be upfront with you. I actually don’t know if I could keep anything from you if I tried,” he said with a chuckle.

“Of course you can tell me anything. What’s up?”

“These days with you, since the moment you walked into the arena, I have felt so connected with you. I am so honored that you said yes to spending time with me. You have made me feel like the luckiest man in the world. The way that you look at me is the most incredible feeling, bar none. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, ever, especially in only a few weeks. I think I am falling in love with you, (y/n), and I know that that seems insane but I just want to be open and honest with you.”

You could feel your heart turning flips in your chest. Again, he’d left you speechless. You could feel tears pricking your eyes, but you finally managed to speak.

“Walking into that arena full of men, a large amount being bachelors, my eyes have always been drawn to you. Now that I know you, my heart, my soul, and my body literally crave your presence. Being around you makes me feel alive, makes me feel like a new person. I feel the exact same way about you, Dougie.”

You had avoided his gaze until the last sentence came out of your mouth, but finally connecting your eyes with his, he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. There were truly no words that either of you could say to describe your connection with each other.

You felt him squeeze your hand, pulling you from your thoughts about him. 

“You ready to get out of here?” he smiles over at you.

///

You two decide to hang out at your apartment for the rest of the day. You’re sitting on the couch, snuggled into his side. It felt safe. You were safe. Dougie was rubbing circles on your hand with his thumb, humming sweet nothings to you. You always thought that your job would be what made you feel the most fulfilled. But, this, this was it. This was what you’d been searching for this whole time. 

______________________________

Thank you so much for reading!!! Do you guys want a part 2???

[for-ests]

To Make You Come Home- Colin Ritman x Reader

Part 1

Word count: 3,802

Sorry for the long wait and the spacing. I didn’t plan on part 2 being this long :’)) I hope you enjoy!!

________________________

He didn’t care. He never did.

That’s all you could think about as you sprinted down the road. It was so late in the night that not a single soul was out. All you could hear was the sound of your sneakers scuffing against the pavement.

If he really cared about me he would be here right now. If he loved me, he would have put forth the effort I have.

The streetlights were a haze in your vision as you ran until the weight of your bag felt like a hundred pounds.

Why does Colin make himself so hard to love?

Just the thought of cutting him completely out of your life was enough to cause your tears to overflow. Your sniffles turned into sobs within seconds, overtaking your senses so quickly that you had to stop running.

Colin… Colin, why? Why do you have to make me feel like this?

You wanted to scream as loud as you could. There was so much anger building up inside of you and you didn't know how to let out. You just needed to get away. You needed to breathe. Yet being alone felt odd. Wanting a break from Colin was something you had never craved before.

Why do I let him treat me like this?

Why did love have to be so complicated? You wanted to be alone yet you could barely stand the idea of not laying in bed next to him. If only he had decided to go to sleep with you that night. If only he had listened to your advice. If only he didn’t rely on drugs for release. If only.

You came to a stop at the realization. This entire time you had been trying to change him. For the better, yes indeed. But he wasn’t ready for change. He wasn’t ready to grow up and cherish the love you were willing to give him.

And if he wasn’t ready, 3 years was already too long to wait. You always had time, but it was never going to go to waste.

"I'll be okay." You promised to yourself, lip quivering with each prayer that you uttered. No matter what was going to happen, you would get through it. With or without Colin by your side. The relationship was in his hands now. One more tear slipped from your eye when you realized you had done all you could.

Your heart seemed to shatter at that realization. All you could do was sit and wait for him to make up his mind. It felt like you had broken up, but you couldn’t help and hold on tightly to that last string of hope.

You had wanted to feel something real; you wanted something more. You wanted someone to depend on you, to crave and cherish you. But you always seemed to let the wrong man do so. Someone who didn't even deserve an ounce of the love you had to give.

You thought that man could have been Colin. There were so many great qualities about him, yet his deep rooted issues always stood in the way. You noticed his problems when you were friends, yet had to deal with them as a couple.

In your eyes, the man you wanted to be with was never supposed to be perfect. You just needed to see him strive to change. The fights you always had with him were easily preventable yet it never changed. He could fix his problems if he wanted to. He could get some sleep. He could stop drinking in excess. He could stop lying. He could treat you better.

And now you had finally had enough. You would not let Colin bring you down with him, as selfish as that sounded. But you had already been trying for 3 years. If the sign that he wouldn’t run after you wasn’t enough, you didn’t know what was. You could not fix him.

And that was the biggest, most important lesson you learned from this.

Some people aren't meant to be fixed.

Tears started to well in the corners of your eyes. Sometimes the truth really was harder to face. It hurt to know your efforts to form an unbreakable bond with him crumbled right in front of you. But you couldn’t go on like this any longer. You could not watch Colin destroy himself. The promises he whispered in your ear had become devoid of all meaning. They were almost as empty as you.

Despite his faults, you loved him. You loved him more than anything- yet you had to be strong for yourself. Everything you thought was contradicting.

Though you tried desperately to deny it, you could not continue on like this. "I need to move on.” Your brain tried to reason with your heart.

Yet uttering those words did not change a thing. You were still confused, still hurt beyond explanation. You were so angry and tired, in dire need of someone who was willing to calm you down. The last thing you could do was walk back into the apartment you and Colin shared. You were so frustrated that you would rather sleep outside.

And with that, you reached your childhood best friend Stefan’s door with a heavy heart.

Coming around the street corner so early in the morning was strange. There wasn’t another sound to be heard. The silence was eerie, as if it was trying to remind you that you were alone.

Somewhat ashamed, you walked up the concrete steps to Stefan’s front door. You were surprised you had even made it there, with how dazed and confused you had become. Your mind was racing a hundred miles a minute. Would he even take you in? Was he even home?

Your finger hovered over the doorbell. You paused, half of you wishing Colin had followed you. You absolutely hated bothering people like this. Stefan probably wouldn’t mind, but your worry stemmed from your own anxiety of becoming a burden.

Ding.

You waited anxiously. It was not too late to turn back.

Yet before you could think about another alternative, Stefan appeared behind the glass. A surprised look was on his face.

“Y/N?” He rubbed his eyes, voice muffled behind the door until he unlocked it and ushered you inside.

“I'm sorry Stefan...” You half smiled, swaying the duffel bag around your torso. “Is there anyway I can crash on your couch for tonight?” You tried to ask without showing any indications of how heartbroken you were.

But he could see right through you, aside from the fact that you had shown up at 3am.

“Colin let you walk away huh?”

“I think we are done this time...” You bit your lip to hold back the tears. “I can’t watch him spiral like this. He won’t take my advice. And as far as I’m concerned, I have been enabling him to take the drugs. He can’t function without them anymore. We don’t talk.. Haven't done anything special in two weeks...” You looked up to meet Stefan’s eyes, and was surprised to find them filled with sadness and compassion.

“You don’t need to say anything more, Y/N.” Stefan took your bag from you and gestured for you to follow him to his bedroom. His hair was disheveled from what was once a deep sleep. For the most part he was awake, giving you his full attention.

“The couch is fine.” You smiled weakly, not wanting to ruin his entire night. Stefan was far too kind.

“You already know what I'm going to say.” He rolled his eyes, moving aside papers and books to set your bag on his desk chair. You hadn’t been over for a couple weeks and a lot had changed since then. Stefan was also working on a similar project, and he was still sane. At least you thought… At least Stefan talked to you about his problems. That topic had remained constant in your friendship.

“Thanks,” You laughed through your nose. “for real.”

“Colin may be a coworker and friend, but I’ve known you since we were children.” He crossed his arms and looked around. “I’m sorry for the mess though… Is there anything else I can get you before I go back asleep?”

“No,” You smiled genuinely. You wondered if Stefan could see the obvious indications of crying that littered your face. If he did, he remained quiet. He had known you long enough to wait until you were ready. The pain was still fresh. “Not till the morning.” You finished.

“I'll be here when you wake. We can talk then.”

He closed the door. You listened to his bare feet creak against the hardwood until you were sure he was out of hearing range. You felt like crying, but part of you was too angry to produce any tears. You tried to avoid the resentment creeping into your mind. Relationships were never a waste of time until the end, when you realize everything you had put into it was unappreciated. Years of your life gone. If you somehow couldn’t work it through with Colin, your happiness would become a painful memory. All the traits you had learned about him would eventually fade. Everything you had been through would never be spoken about again.

You weren’t ready for that.

Sighing to avoid more tears, you took off your shoes and set them quietly under Stefan’s bed. You knew a couple hours of sleep would relieve some of the stress.

Stefan’s home was a great place to take your mind off Colin. He was a part of your life that was filled with continuous joy. He even had a few pictures of you from your earlier years taped on his wall. Glancing at them caused a smile to spread across your face. The two of you were so young then, and now you were reaching adulthood.

Stefan’s room was so plain back then. Now, the walls were decorated with projects, diagrams and posters. Piles of books and software littered every possible open surface in the cramped room.

Looking at them put you at peace. And eventually, you wrapped yourself in a blanket and drifted into a relaxed, stress free slumber.

___

The morning came sooner than you wanted. The room was still pitch black because of the blinds, which made it ten times harder to wake up fully. Groaning, you stretched and climbed out of bed. The clock read 10:30am.

You emerged from the bedroom and found Stefan up in the kitchen. He smiled at you, gesturing to the eggs and toast he was preparing.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You chuckled.

The lanky boy shrugged nonchalantly. “I know, but you would do the same for me.”

You pulled out a chair at the breakfast bar and laid your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from discomfort. Your mind was still racing, trying to piece together some sort of plan on how you were going to figure your life out. You couldn’t just bail on Colin, You shared an apartment. You shared everything...What were you going to do? You would have to find your own place closer to the university. You could possibly find one of your girlfriends to live with for a couple week. Yet your pride wouldn't have it. You hated relying on other people so heavily like that. Colin had been the only person to see that side of you for quite some time.

“Y/N?” Stefan’s voice finally hit you like a slap in the face. You hadn’t noticed he had been calling your name.

“What? Sorry.” You mumbled.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” A sigh escaped your lips. You wished more than anything for something else to fill your mind. “I’d rather talk about you. How’s the game going?”

“Don’t give me that.” He laughed while shaking his head. “You need to go back to Colin’s and figure your shit out.”

You were silent. You knew Stefan was right but you craved recognition from Colin. You wanted him to come to you. You were sick of being the one who initiated to sort through your problems. You wanted Colin to be a man and ask you to stay. Immature and irrational, yes, but still. You could not help the way you felt. Why were you the one obligated to figure things out?

You lowered your gaze, ashamed. “It’s always me.”

It took Stefan a moment to process what you meant. When it hit him, he raised his eyebrows. “You want him to come to you?”

You slowly nodded, your answer as faint as it could be. “I’m sorry Stefan. I’m being an idiot. I’m just so… angry.”

Stefan pulled out the chair next to you and took a seat. “You don’t need to be sorry about anything.”

You felt tears prickling at your eyelids. You loathed being this vulnerable.

“Why don’t I drive you back over there so you can pick up your things. You can try to talk to him.” Stefan lowered his head into your view until you were forced to look at him. “See what he has to say. But after that, I can always take you back.”

You sniffled. “I-I can do that.”

Not another moment passed before you gathered your composure. You reached over and grabbed the telephone from off the wall and dialed your phone number. Your hands were on the verge of shaking from how terrified you had become. What the hell were you going to say? The phone rang three times before Colin’s raspy voice echoed on the other side.

“Hello?”

“Are you at the flat?” You asked, keeping your voice as steady as possible.

“Yeah.” He replied softly, recognizing your voice in an instant.

“I'll be over soon.” You clutched the phone so hard your fingers turned white. You heard him taking a breath but were too nervous to hear what he had to say. You slammed the phone against the receiver before you heard another word.

___

Arriving at your apartment should not have been this difficult. You swallowed hard as you unbuckled your seat belt. Maybe it was too soon to come back, but you were an impatient person. You would have to come back regardless.

“I’ll be here.” Stefan gave you an encouraging smile.

You reciprocated his actions, even as your heart began to beat so fast you could barely hear what he said. You closed the car door with a click and clutched the keys in your hand. Here went nothing.

Entering the lobby and riding the elevator seemed like a fever dream. This building had been your home for over a year, yet you felt like an alien in it. No matter how long you had been with Colin, it was his. This was his home first. And depending on what happens when you enter the room, it will be his home last.

Even staring at the front door, decorated with pictures and signs you had placed there, wasn’t enough to make you feel welcome. You were most likely scaring yourself, but it was you form of preparation. You couldn't face another disappointment. You did not want to expect a smile on his face and be greeted with a frown.

Shaking your head to disperse the thoughts, you took a deep breath and knocked. At the sound, you heard shuffling from inside. As if he had been intentionally waiting beside it, Colin pulled the door open.

Your mouth parted in surprise.

The bags under his eyes had worsened. It seemed like he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

“Y/N-” He started, too choked up to say anything coherent. You had the feeling he wanted to reach out for you by the way he stumbled. You watched that thought leave his eyes at the sight of you standing as still as a statue.

“Where’s your mind at?” You shifted awkwardly on your feet. Normally, you would be all too willing to fall back into his arms. But if that were to happen, the cycle would go on repeating itself. That's not the life you wanted for yourself, and it was certainly not the life you wanted for Colin. If you couldn’t be the one by his side, hopefully someone else could.

“What do you mean where’s my mind at?” He blinked in confusion, one hand gripping the door and the other gripping the wooden frame. You watched his muscles tense.

You met his eyes. “Did you think I was going to come back and pretend everything was okay?”

“I hoped.”

“Because you're ashamed?” The accusation left your lips out of anger and frustration. “And you’re not big enough of a man to admit it?”

“I have nothing to be ashamed about.” He swallowed, now unable to meet your eyes.

“You're addicted, Colin.” You bit your lip. “I can’t be with someone like this.”

“I’m not-”

“-You are. And I’ve let it slide for too long. You can’t function sober.”

Colin was silent. He knew he had a problem. The hurt in your tone was evident enough. He had neglected you long enough.

“All you had to do was ask for help. Before any of this spiraled. I was there for you.”

You saw panic flash across his face even though he was trying to hide it. “Was?”

“I can’t.” You gestured frantically between the two of you. There was barely a gap, but it felt like miles. “I can’t keep going on like this.”

“Like what?” He whispered.

“Being ignored. Watching you fall apart. You pushing me away. You never wanting to do anything. You smoke every night, and you push your work off until you have to cram it all into one night. And then you can't even do it! You need to take a tab. I’m sick of it. Your sleep schedule is so fucked up I can't remember the last time you held me in that bed.”

He knew he had no justifiable excuse. He had fucked up.

“I love you, Y/N.” His shoulders relaxed. “I don’t understand why that isn’t enough.”

“How am I supposed to know you love me when you never show it?” You raised your voice, surprised at the weakness of his rational. “I should be able to feel your love.”

Your words were a challenge. After the years you had spent together, Colin was able to decipher your language.

You were growing distraught. Was he even listening to you? You wanted to kiss him so badly, to run your fingers along his face in a caressing touch. You wanted to move on like nothing ever happened but your heart couldn’t go through it again. There needed to be a change. And he had to make his decision now.

“You’re right.” He breathed, tension pulling harder and harder at the both of you. “I feel like you despise me. I don’t know how to make it right.”

His confession took you by surprise. Colin was never not confident, he never shied away from taking control of every situation. When he walked into the room, all eyes were always on him. You knew he was under an immense amount of stress and pressure because of it. But now it had taken a toll on your relationship.

“I’m not used to this… not knowing what to do.”

“You should be able to take comfort in the fact that I'm here for you. I should know things about you that no one else does.” You met his eyes again. “I thought you would have learned this of being together for 3 years.”

“Take comfort in the fact that no one has heard me say that before.” He opened the door wider, as an invitation. “You’re the only woman I need.”

Still upset, that comment made the corners of your lips curve slightly.

He was vulnerable for what seemed like the first time. That was a step in the right direction, a promising one. Now he knew you were serious. You wouldn’t tolerate his childish behavior any longer. You wanted something more with him, and he was going to have to work for it.

Even though Colin was sure you still wanted to scream at him, you held yourself with so much composure. It made his heart race. You looked beautiful just as you were, even when your eyes were red and your nose stuffy. He only wished he hadn’t caused it.

“I love you.” Colin repeated with glossy eyes.

And with that, you fell against him with a sob. His warmth enveloped you and you gripped onto him tight. The man you loved more than anything ushered you inside, hugging you just as tight in return.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” He whispered into your hair. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”

“I believe you.” You tilted your head up, staring deeply into his eyes. “My love for you is still strong. I love you, Colin. No matter what happens that will never change.”

You shared a long kiss, one that was filled with passion and desperation. The butterflies you had felt so many times before erupted back into a fury. He gripped your waist, begging for more.

You pulled back, hands caressing his jawline. “Later.”

“I need you, babe.”

You chuckled softly, burying your face into his chest. Colin knew what names to call you when he wanted something. Every time he did, he was able to see that familiar blush light up your cheeks.

“Let me go tell poor Stefan that everything is okay.”

“Is that where you stayed?”

“Where else would I have gone?”

He smiled. “You’re right. Let me come with you. I need to thank him.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew you didn’t have the courage to come back by yourself. He had some say in your decision, yeah?” His question was cheeky, followed by a nudge.

You rolled your eyes. ���I would have come back eventually.”

“I know. I was just about to go find you when you called.” His joke turned into something more serious. “I was worried sick about you.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“No.”

“Well I promise not to do that again. If you promise me that you’ll work at your habits. I’m only saying this because I care about you Colin.”

He took your small hands and kissed them softly. “I promise.”