#for some reason in my anxiety riddled mind I thought I’d see him again

[genderfreakxx]

Anyway a really fucken handsome dude bought me a beer at a concert today so I’m gonna be riding that high for the rest of the year

[whatiwillsay]

submission: we need to talk about ttb (spade-riddles)

Hey Cam. Seeing that ask defending TTB��s doxxing has sort of pushed me to finally share some of my story on Tumblr, I guess. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk about this to anyone fully, so this will probably be long, but I hope you don’t mind me venting.

I’m one of the people that got emailed by TTB. I don’t feel comfortable posting this off anon, but I was in a Discord server with you and @bisluthq and some other people back in Dec/Jan. I don’t know if you remember me, but my name on there was one word and began with an L and ended with an S.

I want to share the full story, but I also don’t feel comfortable with sharing certain details publicly because I’m still very wary of getting outed further by her if she sees this, so I’m gonna be vague about some things

Request to her followers — If you see this, please don’t send this to her. Like I’m genuinely asking you not to because I don’t trust her not to cross any more lines. My dad is a major homophobe with serious anger issues who has literally been arrested for violence before, and she doesn’t really think carefully or maybe even care about how any actions she takes could lead to people being harmed, so I’m not eager to see how she might react.

Anyway, I first got an email back in December, and I was really freaked out by it at first. I spoke to one of my mutuals about it, and although we both agreed it was super weird and invasive and creepy, we ended up trying to see the funny side of it. So, I kinda just brushed it off and moved on. I was mainly just really confused about why I had been targeted because at the time, I thought it was only me who’d gotten an email like that. I didn’t understand why she’d specifically targeted me instead of other people who she clearly disliked a lot more.

About a week later, I saw someone on Tumblr mentioning a strange email, and I realised other people must have gotten them too. I spoke to Nat about what happened to me and ended up in the Discord

At the time, I felt like I’d gotten off really easy comparatively to others because I initially didn’t realise that she’d contacted anyone else. And so I tried to act chill about it because I didn’t want to make things about me, but honestly, I was extremely anxious. I felt on edge for over a week. I would keep checking her blog again and again because I was super worried that she would post our personal details publicly. I scrolled through my entire blog from start to finish and deleted a lot of posts that were either personal or that I just didn’t want anyone I knew in real life to read.

This part I have to be vague about because it would basically give away who I am, but it was only a while later when I thought I was in the clear that someone I knew in real life texted me and mentioned seeing a weird email about me. The email had been sent a while back, and they’d been shown it by the original recipient/s. Multiple people had been shown it, but luckily (kinda), only two of those people were actually people I saw on a regular basis

I’m mostly closeted, but I’m kind of technically out to a few of my immediate family members. But it’s very much a DADT situation because they’re not accepting, and they like to just pretend I’m straight. And so I basically have to act closeted even when I’m around them, and I can’t even ALLUDE to being gay.

But with my dad, it’s different. He’s very homophobic. I’m only gonna mention this next part so that people understand what kind of dangerous situation that TTB could have put me in. (And the other people that she doxxed too because she didn’t know how safe their individual situations were). It’s all really personal, and I wouldn’t ordinarily feel comfortable sharing any of this at all, even anonymously, but I think it needs to be said because her actions were extremely fucking irresponsible.

Right, so when I first “came out” to my dad, it was actually an accident, and he reacted… extremely badly. This was back in like… 2018 or 2019, I can’t remember the exact year

(TW // physical abuse, homophobia)

He was extremely angry, literally shaking. He yelled at me, he described in graphic detail how he was going to “break every bone in my body”, “strangle the life out of me”, “drown me”, etc. He kept telling me that I’m disgusting and going to Hell, you get the idea. He was having a lot of fun with making strangling motions and stabbing motions with his hands, and he kept slamming his hand onto the table. That went on for about 15 minutes, and then he stood up and threw a chair from the dining table at me. That was fun lol. And he punched me in the head pretty hard which kinda knocked me back. I felt dizzy, I had to sit down on the floor. At that point, my mum who had been crying and asking him to stop physically intervened, and he ended up storming out of the house instead. My mum’s a genuinely good person btw. She’s a little homophobic, but she cares about me a lot, and I’m very grateful for her. She hates him too, but she’s kinda stuck with him… It wasn’t her fault

He literally hates gay people. He complains about us on the regular. One time, he threw the remote at the TV and cracked the screen just because there was a gay male couple kissing onscreen. Another time, he threw a rock at a gay man on the street. There was also a time where he forced a few of my siblings (who didn’t want to do it) to throw peeled oranges out of the window at people celebrating pride while he drove past them and yelled insults at them. He found that really funny. Anyway, I’m sure you guys get the idea of what kind of person he is

He hasn’t laid a hand on anybody in several months though, so I do think he’s trying to be better at least. Like he’s still verbally abusive and controlling and awful, but I appreciate that he’s at least making an effort to calm down with the hitting and kicking and stuff

Anyway, with my dad, it’s less DADT and more that I think he’s got it in his head that he managed to scare me into “seeing the error of my ways” and that I’ve “stopped choosing to be gay” and that I’m now straight. So, if it had been HIM who had gotten that email, it would’ve been like… extremely bad. Like I’m getting anxious just thinking about it. And this is why I’m so angry at TTB. It was extremely, extremely irresponsible of her to not consider these kinds of possibilities before she sent out her stupid emails. She’s supposed to be an ally, but it didn’t even cross her mind that these emails would lead to people being outed and possibly even harmed?? It’s not okay at all. I’m just very grateful that she didn’t send one to him because I don’t even know what kind of situation I would be in right now.

Anyway, enough about my fucking awful dad… I feel uncomfortable that I even typed all of that out, but I wanted people to understand how dangerous her actions could have been. Like I mean, my dad’s got PTSD and extreme anger issues from his teenage years, so I do try not to judge him TOO harshly, but there’s no excuse for being a huge bigot or occasionally violent. The idea of him being the one who got that email is still so scary to me. Like my heart is racing just thinking about it

One of the people that DID read the email was the male friend I mentioned earlier though. He was shown it by someone else for a particular reason, and he was a very important person to me. Like he was a good guy, we were close, he helped me out with certain personal issues I have and is one of only two people that I know in real life that I felt comfortable confiding in about them. We’d always meet up once a week, sometimes twice, and we’d just talk about stuff and make an effort to help each other out with things. Like he was very important to me.

It turns out that he’d looked through my blog before I’d got around to scrubbing it, and he asked me if I was gay in person the next time we met up. I couldn’t lie because like… he’d have known I was lying right to his face. So, I told him I was, and you should have seen his face. It made me feel so awful about myself. He looked really stunned and shocked and kinda uncomfortable. Like it got so awkward, and I started rambling and making things worse. He was avoiding eye contact, and my voice was shaking.

I ended up making up an excuse to leave about 5 mins later and had an actual anxiety attack. Again, this is embarrassing and something I’d never usually talk about online, but I just want to get it all off my chest so that I can move past it all.

So, I was like on the verge of tears (I don’t cry easily), I couldn’t breathe properly, I was pacing around the building, and I just wanted to escape, so I headed straight for the doors. There was a queue of about 100 people lined up and waiting to leave, and I couldn’t think straight or breathe and just needed to be outside, so I tried to go out through the other exit which is for staff only. The security guard stopped me and basically publicly humiliated me in front of all of those people. He loudly shamed me and said I “didn’t have any decency” for attempted to jump the queue, lectured me in this really condescending tone, and then sent me right to the back of that huge line. Meanwhile, I was literally in the midst of a bad anxiety attack.

And then I eventually got outside and had to call my mum to come and pick me up instead of just making my own way home like I usually do. She’s amazing though tbh because she actually came to get me and didn’t even question why. I had to skip all of my plans for the rest of the day and instead just hid upstairs in my bedroom with the lights off until the next day. I refused to tell any of my family members what had happened even though they kept asking. I just felt so, so awful, and my anxiety was through the roof

To be honest, before that happened, my mindset was like: “I mean, if I get outed, it obviously wouldn’t be good, but I think I’d be able to deal with it fine”. But then, when it actually happened, and I saw the way my close friend reacted, I had like a whole emotional breakdown lol. It’s like, you think you’d be fairly chill in a situation, but when it actually happens, your reaction can be really unpredictable. I was so embarrassed by everything about that entire incident. I didn’t even want to show my face the next day.

It’s been almost two months since that happened, and in that entire time, my friend has contacted me once. We literally used to meet up once or twice a week (and during lockdown, we’d do video calls or phone calls instead), but since then, we’ve barely even spoken. Things are just so awkward now. I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like TTB’s taken one of my best friends away from me. I don’t think he’s a homophobe or anything, he has openly gay friends and is fairly accepting, but I think it’s just the way that he found out that has just made things so weird between us now. I feel like if I’d had the chance to come out to him myself in my own way, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. But I’m gonna text him next week and see if we can maybe try to fix our friendship, but I doubt it at this point

The other people who were shown the email, I mostly just avoid. I don’t really care about them knowing that much because I wasn’t close to them, but it’s just really embarrassing knowing that they probably scrolled through my Tumblr blog before I scrubbed it

And about Tumblr… This used to be the only place that I could fully be myself. It was like a “safe space” for me which feels ironic now. But I haven’t been active on my blog since December. I still lurk occasionally, but I just don’t feel comfortable here anymore. I did consider deleting my current blog and starting afresh with a new one, but I don’t think it’d make much of a difference… Like she’s kind of ruined Tumblr for me. I do still enjoy reading people’s blogs every now and then, but I don’t feel relaxed here anymore, I just feel on edge.

It’s mainly the fact that SHE’S still here. She still has a platform, she still has a bunch of followers. It’s been so hard seeing her face next to no consequences whatsoever for the horrible things that she’s done to so many different people. And it upsets me that she hasn’t even acknowledged that what she did was wrong. Plus, it makes me feel even worse that the Hard Kay blogs and some other people are still supporting her and pretending that this whole thing just didn’t happen. Like do they just not care? Or is it that she’s twisted things and made them believe that the situation was different to what it actually was?

And tbh, this whole situation has even set me back in my own sort of personal self-acceptance journey. I had such bad internalised homophobia when I was younger, and it took me so many years to get to a place where I had mostly accepted myself. But now I just feel ashamed again, and I’ve gone back to my old habit of trying to force myself to be attracted to men. Like I downloaded Tinder the other day and set my preference to men and was swiping through profiles. It’s kinda silly actually. I did snap out of it and delete the app the next day though. But I don’t know, I feel like this whole thing has just kinda fucked with me a bit. I am trying to work this stuff out and get back to normal though. I think I’ll be good again in maybe a month or so, hopefully.

And… yeah. I just really resent her, and this situation upsets me. Because the reason she did this was so petty and ridiculous, and I guess she didn’t even realise how much it would impact people? Like I do know that my situation wasn’t as bad as some of the other people’s situations, and I feel really bad for them, and I hope they’re all doing okay. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. But it still has impacted me a lot more than I actually thought it would. I thought I’d get over it within a couple of weeks. But it’s been like two months, and I’m still not completely over it

I know it might not sound like a huge thing, but being outed really does affect you, even if it’s only to a few people. Because to me, I feel like I’ve had my sense of like, security and comfort taken away, and it’s kinda distressing. Sorry if I sound dramatic with any of this, I just really needed to say all of this stuff to other people besides myself lol

Like her actions have literally led to me being outed to a few people. A close friendship that I had has basically been ruined. I don’t feel comfortable or secure on Tumblr anymore, even though it used to be an important outlet for me. I’ve had a resurgence of anxiety about my sexuality. Etc.

And again, my dad is extremely homophobic and literally made death threats to me and physically attacked me back when I accidentally came out to him in 2018 or 2019. And if he had gotten that email, I don’t even know what would have happened. I don’t think he would have like… SERIOUSLY physically harmed me, but there would definitely have been a repeat of the first incident. More throwing chairs at me and hitting and screaming and death threats. I don’t really want to think about it.

It just bothers me that she didn’t even consider that? Like did it not even cross her mind? And my dad is bad, but I’m sure there are people in the fandom who have even worse parents, and she could have got one of those people instead. It’s just so… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating to me.

Anyway, I just hate her for what she did… Like maybe I shouldn’t, but I really do resent her so much, and I don’t think I could forgive her even if she apologised to us all (which I don’t think she even would because she doesn’t seem to have any decency whatsoever). The least she could do is at least express some kind of remorse, but she just genuinely doesn’t care, and that’s super messed up. All over some stupid Tumblr blog that is much less important than she thinks it is.

But anyway… I apologise for the whole rant, and if anybody read all the way down to here, I appreciate it. I do actually feel a bit better now that I’ve got this all typed out. And I’m sorry for the oversharing lol, I usually don’t do this, but I just felt like I really needed to tell people and get it off my chest so that I can try to get over it — L

submisssion⬆️⬆️⬆️

ok L i am trying to remain calm here because this isn’t about me.  but i am very emotional right now.  i am so so so infinitely sorry that you had to go through this harrowing and terrifying experience.  ttb (now blogging under spade-riddles) is absolutely disgusting, lower than dirt, that she would put your life, safety, and well-being at risk over a fucking kaylor blog.

please please please im me or get in touch somehow because i want to offer you support.  have you been financially impacted by this?  we can raise money.  do you need therapy?  we can help you find the support you need.  this community is unequivocally here for you.  whatever you need, if it’s in my power to help you get it, i will.  you have my solemn promise on that.

i am so deeply and desperately sorry that you have gone through this.  i was shaking while reading your story.

i am in touch with other people and we are in discussion about the best way to let tumblr know what happened.  this will be a safe space for you (and all of us) again if it’s the last thing i do.  this community is 100% here for you in any way we can help, sending you all the support and love we have.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S5 Ep 18: A Series of Ecological Disasters

Booting up ye old Yugioh, booting up a new aesthetic playlist to type to. (today’s playlist is webcore, which would feel like such a damn fake aesthetic, if it weren’t that every single one of these -core aesthetics are pretty damn fake and everyone knows it.)

Anyway, it’s been so long that, I’ll be honest, I thought I booted up the wrong episode:

I usually skip the anime intro, but I try to watch it once each arc, cuz the intros change, and this arc was like “screw it, here’s all the other villains, just pretend this arc isn’t happening.” They had Pegasus, they had Marik, they have Bakura (who is kind of in this shot as well, you can see him phasing in there.) And like...I guess they’re hiding the villain of this arc or something because that was it. Alexander the Great got just nixed from this villain list and that’s a shame.

Just a real weird choice, but since apparently this arc didn’t air in Japan they probably had to outsource this anime intro and whatever studio in charge of it just cobbled together stuff from every other season and then a couple of shots of capsule stuff.

Speaking of capsule stuff: get a load of how many freakin lines the animators have to deal with every time they draw Grandpa.

Bro saw this and was like “oh yeah, this is a Shonen Jump” and yeah. The hair does give those vibes. We got a good look at what Vegeta would look like if he really let himself go.

(read more under the cut)

Sorry, my playlist started playing a song where every single line of the song is “Adrien Brody” and it took me like a few minutes to realize I was listening to “Brodyquest” completely seriously.

Damn it, webcore, don’t betray me like this.

Anyway, this arc does something super surprising: Yugi actually hugs somebody and doesn’t look like he’s going to pass out standing up.

It is pretty fitting that the good Yugi hug would go to Grandpa.

And, as night falls, Joey Wheeler has gotten hungry, and there is nothing to eat but his new best friend and spirit animal, baby dragon. Unfortunately he shares life points with the dragon, and I think if you eat it that just instakills you.

And directly underneath him--since this world is like 100 feet wide and things just conveniently happen--Tea has told everyone that they needed to stop worrying about Joey. Which is a lot coming from Tea, because her worrying about Yugi/Yami getting hurt is most of what occupies her headspace in this series.

But even Tea was like, screw Joey, I guess.

Who kinda just falls directly into them upside down, and shows us what Joey’s hair looks like when it’s sticking straight up.

For reals, admire how long Joey Wheeler’s hair is. If Tea were upside down, she would have the same length of hair.

Also speaking of Vegeta, I am low key concerned that Joey has what appears to be a significant amount of male pattern balding going on for a teenager.

Apparently getting set on fire many, many times did have an effect on Joey, and this massive pompadour he wears is a combover. Poor baby.

Holy crap, if this is what card stress and getting killed multiple times did to Joey Wheeler, can you imagine what’s going on under Seto’s bangs? That’s probably why his bangs ride so low, Seto likely wears a freakin toupee.

Guys, Joey’s gonna lose his hair at 25 at this rate. Those locks just aren’t long for this world. Poor baby.

After Joey rejoins the party, he immediately eats all of their food. Not sure why they can’t just have Baby Dragon eat like...whatever Baby Dragon naturally eats...and then transform that into shared Joey Wheeler life points, but it’s not clear exactly how much of a life-connection they have with their Yugioh monsters. Not like it matters because Joey Wheeler is default starving all the time anyway.

Tristan has decided we should start laying blame, I guess because Duke Devlin isn’t here anymore to be the local kill joy. This doesn’t seem to be important at any point, and most of the characters are just ignoring Tristan because like...once you’re in the haunted game in a haunted tomb in a random part of India--it’s kind of moot to argue about who’s fault that is, youknow?

Joey reminds us that he found this quest item in a treasure chest under a secret waterfall. No one says “that was convenient that you landed there after getting chased through a ravine by man-eating birds after you got your dragon from when you got your crotch injury from getting spliced by that tree.”

Which is when Tea says “Wait! We haven’t had a plot thing happen in like 4 seconds! Wait!”

Hey what degree of “I don’t trust nature” do you have to be to assume that all the flowers are trying to eat you?

Like what level of anxiety is Tea where she not only is like “pretty sure the flowers are going to destroy us?” but also...she’s correct? Like she’s not wrong.

They set the dog flowers on fire, but unlike the Jungle Book this doesn’t solve any problems (which apparently got taken off the Disney+ kid’s menu so...yet again, I make a Disney reference in these recaps that future generations will not understand because so much of the Disney library has been banned from the vault. It’s almost like Disney should let go of that copyright they held on for like a hundred years, because what they’re holding on to is only going to get more racist with time. But nah. Gotta hold on with their greedy mickey mouse gloves.)

So instead of using fire, Tristan used his monster to electrocute the air (?) and blind the dogs. Wisely, the animators quickly jumped to this other scene so we wouldn’t have to analyze why it’s suddenly daytime or why that plan would even work.

Joey and Tristan do a lot of buddy buddy stuff this arc. Usually we see a lot of Joey and Yugi’s bottomless friendship, but we don’t get this much Tristan/Joey love. So shippers rejoice, these two seem to have several coordinated dances and songs...and I’d say that teens don’t typically do that, but I went to summer camp, there are situational places where teens will sing the entire vacation and make coordinated dances.

Weirdly, since Joey and Tristan share so much time together, this also means Tea and Yugi actually sit next to eachother for a lot of this arc, almost as if they were a couple. Mind you, they’re chaperoned closely by Grandpa, but youknow...that’s a different energy than I’m used to seeing.

That and like, they can’t have Tea dance with them because last time she did a dance, it was like a DDR fight and she elbowed some guy like it was a fisticuffs situation. Like there was some sort of dance war going on behind the scenes of Yugioh’s card war, and it came up once and I guess Tea resolved it and the dance fights haven’t come back since.

Overall, if they did a dance with Tea, they would get kneed in the face, so that’s probably why they insist on doing cancans as a duet and not a trio.

After Joey and Tristan freak out over having no food, Tea decides to just start eating in front of them.

and like...didn’t Joey eat that food yesterday? Like last night? The short term memory loss on all these fools.

Immediately after this we realize something weird in the water. That’s right, it’s a massive head.

Yugi seems to have forgotten they lit this turtle on fire and electrocuted the entire sky the night before. Not that it mattered.

There were like...nesting birds on those trees on that island. What the hell? They just killed so MANY of those man-eating dogs that are flowers.

Seriously are land turtles allowed to just...dive underwater for long periods of time? How does that ecosystem even work? It’s like...That’s wild to think about.

Inside the temple, they have to fight a genie or something.

In case you were wondering, the only reason Tea and Grandpa got iced is because they were the closest to the door. The two who were actually standing out of harms way were the closest to harm the whole time.

Bro tells me this is also what will happen to you if you are in the front or the back of the party while playing Cthulu D&D

Anyway, Pharaoh decides to disclose that his big problem of feeling guilty all the time and taking all the blame, which he did all of last season...is still a huge problem he will probably never tackle.

Straight up, don’t be fooled by my caps, everyone else has completely forgotten about Alex, who is still running around that temple up there. They haven’t even asked Grandpa “hey is this your protege? Is this your mentee you never told us about?” Nah. They already forgot. 

How wild is it that Pharaoh thinks this is all his fault when he was the only one who was like “YUGI IT’S A TRAP DON’T GO IN THE- well...OK I guess we’re doing this, fine.” Is he upset he didn’t take control from Yugi and walk back to the plane? Because that’s the only way he could even be partially responsible, He was the only guy who was like “I see the end from the beginning on this y’all, and it’s the massive pyramid in India.”

Speaking of forgetting, they came across this language Pharaoh has decided to have nothing to do with.

This was actually a riddle and it was like...it was a riddle, sure, I guess.

And so Joey Wheeler does not hallucinate his dead wife from a previous incarnation and get on the back of his Baby Dragon to sail away into the sunset. Instead they’re just gonna walk.

Too bad Tea’s orb covered in wings only seems to hover a bit. Every single wing on that weird orb is absolutely useless.

And then Pharaoh’s pokemon is just a fire--which is hard to sit on--and Celtic Guardian...who would allow it, sure, but probably doesn’t fly (I think. He might fly)

And then Tristan’s Pokemon kinda seems like if you sit on it, you will get electrocuted. It can probably fly though. It’s very round. Seems like an anime thing that the more round your mascot character is, the more likely it can at least bounce a good distance.

So, next time, I’m just going to assume that we are going to do even more camping. And youknow, if you told me exactly HOW MUCH CAMPING was in this card game show with super future tech, I would not have believed you. But like...a lot of this series is set in the woods right? Like a lot a lot? I have grown to appreciate the woods.

Anyway, as always, if you just got here, this is a link to read these in chrono order:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

See you next time!

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Other Side

Part One

Genre: KSJ Soulmate au

Warnings: none

Word Count: 8.7k

What is tachycardia?

Tachycardia: abnormally high heart rate

Causes: exercise, stress, anxiety, fear, anger, or love

Ventricular tachycardia: may be life threatening; please see: “soulmate”

Since I could begin to retain information around the age of four, I have been taught one thing over and over again.

Soulmates = mortal danger.

Granted, I wasn't the only one who was taught this. I wasn’t raised in some strange cult or taught that love was discouraged.

No, actually. It’s just a part of life.

Soulmates are commonplace, my own parents being an example of that. The world we live in is riddled with beautiful contradictions, one of the most prominent of all those lovely contradictions being the existence of soulmates.

There is no fancy system put into place, no timer or thread of fate that ties us together. There’s really no way of knowing who or when or where you’ll meet the person that is supposed to complete you and bring joy to your life.

I’m sure there’s some sort of way that fate decides when, seeing as the majority of people meet at a fairly young age. The number of soulmates that meet over the age of fifty are few; although it’s been known to happen a couple of times among senior citizens placed into nursing homes.

Soulmates are the sole reason that most children can pronounce the word “tachycardia” before they reach the age of seven.

Tachycardia typically isn’t fatal, it’s something people tend to experience quite often when the circumstances change. Out on a run? You’re probably experiencing tachycardia. Terrified that there’s a burglar in the house? Yep, tachycardia coming right up.

Have you just stumbled across your soulmate for the first time? Tachycardia in its most extreme form will hit you like a brick wall in just a second.

“Who can tell me what the first response you should have when you see that someone has made contact with their soulmate?”

A flurry of hands fly up to the sky, my own included. The steps are rushing around in my brain, just begging to be let out.

“Haneul?” I’m called on and fight a smile as I answer my instructor’s question.

“First, move one of them to a separate room. Place a door between them if possible, and then call 911 if there are no soulmate assistants available.”

My instructor nods, smiling warmly at me. “Exactly. Now can somebody go through the calming exercises step by step…”

Somebody nudges my side, and I turn to see my friend and fellow applicant, Yuri, smiling at me.

“You’re totally getting in,” she whispers to me.

I roll my eyes. “Just because I answered one question right?”

“He remembered your name...that definitely means something.”

Turning my attention back to the front before we’re caught whispering, I entertain the idea before kicking it out. It’s best to not think about it too much, I can’t look like I’m bored or not paying attention. This is too important a day to give a bad impression. The sigil on the instructor’s shirt only serves as a reminder.

The Bighit entertainment logo stands out like a beacon as the instructor moves about, calling up a couple of applicants to demonstrate how to properly restrain someone without hurting them.

His movements call attention to the yellow circle below the Bighit logo, the color that marks him as a ‘soulmate assistant’. Basically just a fancy word for someone who has to make sure if an idol accidentally meets a soulmate at a concert or any other event, nobody dies.

Everyone goes home happy. Alive, and newly bonded.

And if I get this job, that means I’ll go home happy and paid. That’s all I could ever want, isn’t it?

If we’re being completely honest, being hired on as a professional soulmate assistant for Bighit or any other big agency would be a dream come true for someone like me. I would get to travel, meet new people, all the while receiving a steady paycheck while attending concerts for free.

Sure, it’s a tough job. It requires constant vigilance; a single yawn at the wrong time could mean disaster. Which is part of the reason why my parents thought I was a bit crazy wanting to go into such a profession. They backed off a little once I showed them what kind of money I’d be in for, though.

All of it has led to this moment: going through one final walkthrough before we’re called in for individual interviews and eventually left to leave things up to fate. It’s a pretty big deal to have even made it this far. The actual interview process with the soulmate board of Bighit entertainment is rigorous, eventually leading to a one on one interview with one of the managers of either TXT or BTS.

Our group that started off with just over 200 applicants has been filed down to ten. Tensions are high, Yuri’s near constant fidgeting is a sure sign of that.

Ten remain, but only two will be hired on. One for BTS, and one for TXT.

Not gonna lie, I’m hoping I’m getting interviewed for TXT. I have a hunch that Yeonjun, Beomgyu and I would get along great.

Not that I’m picking favorites.

Our small overview comes to an end, the instructor getting to the part we’ve all been waiting for.

“If you’ll remain here for a few minutes, we’ll be pulling a few of you in for interviews. Remember, if you don’t get interviewed today that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Don’t overthink it too much.”

The instructor leaves the room, and a collective sigh goes throughout our small group. Yuri is bouncing her knee, keeping her eyes planted on the wall in front of her. All I can do is wait, I suppose.

Life is cruel that way. It’s the same way with soulmates. All there is to do is wait. Live life as if you aren’t waiting for that one heartstopping (or rather, heartstarting), moment in which you come face to face with the person fate has decided will love you better than anyone else on earth.

It would be foolish of me to say that everyday for the past four years I haven’t entered my classes on campus or any restaurant holding my breath in hopes that today would be the day. College campuses are a kind of hotspot for soulmate activity; one of my trainings was actually spent just shadowing different classes and waiting for something to happen. It was my first hands-on training, and it only lasted a week.

In a single week I assisted in four different soulmate placings.

And that was in the middle of midterms; when the odds of meeting your soulmate are fairly low because stress levels are high. People are less likely to mingle with different groups of people, if they even bother to look up from their textbooks at all. So needless to say I was always waiting for it to happen.

Always waiting, never experiencing. It’s safe to say that after I graduated both my parents and I were a bit disappointed. While it’s not necessarily uncommon for people to reach college graduation age without a soulmate, it’s also an instant way to get everyone to pity you.

Sure, I wallowed for a while in self-pity. However, once I set my mind on pursuing a career in soulmate assisting within an idol group, I was an unstoppable force. And as for finding my soulmate? I used the possibility of working for Bighit as another way to make my parents feel better about their lack of a son-in-law.

If I get the job, I’ll be traveling the world. The chances of me meeting my soulmate would surely skyrocket.

“Choi Haneul?”

I jerk out of my stupor to see the instructor waving me over. Yuri gives me a light nudge, smiling at me encouragingly as I make my way over to the door with a pounding heart.

Fun fact: many people panic and think they’re experiencing what are referred to as “soulmate spikes” the second they start to feel a spike in their heart rate. 9.9/10 times they’re wrong. One way to tell if you really are experiencing soulmate spikes (the initial spike in heart rate upon seeing your soulmate) is if you’re also experiencing intense tunnel vision.

The instructor gives me a curt nod, refusing to give anything away. He simply escorts me down the hallway and into a room where someone is looking over some papers.

Sejin, manager of BTS.

Maybe he’ll pass me along to TXT if he thinks I’d vibe better with them? No, I think to myself. There’s no way I’m about to undermine myself.

“Choi Haneul?” Sejin asks me, a light smile on his face as he looks up at me. I nod, unsure of whether or not I should even say anything. “Please, take a seat.”

The instructor closes the door behind him as he leaves, and suddenly I’m alone with someone I never realized could be perceived as intimidating.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’m Sejin.”

I nod, fighting a sarcastic chuckle. Does he actually think I don’t know who he is, or is he just being polite? “I’m Haneul, thank you for having me.”

Sejin smiles again, looking back down at his papers. “Of course. Now, this probably won’t be a very long interview. Your stats speak for themselves.” He waves the paper in the air, and I see my application form as well as my transcripts from college. “I do just have a few questions for you, if that’s alright?”

“Of course.” I put pressure on my legs, reminding myself to keep still.

“Wonderful. First off, how comfortable are you with constantly being in new environments and having to adapt to an idol’s schedule? It’s a rigorous one.”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek I process the question. “I wouldn’t say that I’m very comfortable at all.”

Sejin’s eyes grow wide, but he proceeds. “And why is that?”

“I wouldn’t want to grow comfortable with it. That would draw away my attention from my job, and my job pretty much depends upon me remaining alert at all times. Now, could I adapt to the schedule? Without a doubt.”

Sejin gives a small chuckle, leaning back against his seat. “Huh. Interesting.”

☆

“C’mon, we have to celebrate!” Yuri bounces up and down, practically glowing. “I can’t believe we both got interviewed!”

I smile along with her, still a little giddy. “Yeah, but don’t you think that’s a little premature? It was just an interview, after all. The really important part is if they call you after.”

“Whatever, don’t you want to celebrate with me? I never thought I’d make it past the first week.”

That I can definitely agree with. It’s a competitive field for sure, and the agency does its best to weed out the weak. For good reason, obviously. Nearly half of the applicants the first week in were fangirls hoping they would match up with one of the idols they might work with. And the other half? Those were the ones who quickly realized that they weren’t crazy enough to want a job that required excessive time and effort.

“Alright, where do you want to go?”

Yuri jumps in place making me laugh. Dragging me along behind her, we take the first taxi we can find. The streets of Seoul are filling up now that the evening is coming along. It’s a Friday night; everybody is going to be out and about, celebrating the end of another week.

When we make it to the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that the two of us have frequented a little too much over the past few months, there’s a fairly large crowd mulling about. We squeeze into a booth after paying for our food, finally able to eat without feeling like I’m going to throw up from the stress.

“Wow, is it just me or does this taste even better now?” Yuri looks up at me with wide eyes and full mouth.

“Is it just me or do you look like a gopher right now?”

If it wasn’t for the piles of food between us I’m sure she would have smacked me. She settles for a quick kick to the shin instead. Hissing at her, she offers me a sweet smile.

“So what’s Sejin like? He’s always seemed like a sweet little teddy bear to me.” Yuri asks before shoving more food into her mouth.

I shrug, thinking back over my interview. The entire thing probably only lasted about 20 minutes, but I think it went well. “He’s nice. Professional, but he honestly wasn’t that grueling. He just said my stats pretty much did all the talking. I think he was just trying to see if I was crazy or not.”

Yuri snorts, nodding along. “Same. Do you think you passed the crazy test?”

“Too soon to tell.”

We delve back into our food, talking more about our interviews. Despite the huge unanswered question hanging between us, did we make it?, the stress from earlier has dissipated. There’s nothing left to do except wait. I feel satisfied with all the work I’ve put in; there’s not a lot more I could’ve done.

It’s the sound of someone’s phone ringing that has us pausing. We look at each other with wide eyes, but there’s no way they’ve already made their decision-

“It’s just my mom,” Yuri sighs out as she brings the phone to her ear. She chats with her mother for a few minutes, reassuring her that everything went well today. I mindlessly push my food around, the sound of Yuri’s ringtone put me on edge for a moment. They definitely won’t call tonight. We just finished!

“What did your mom say?” I ask once she hangs up. Yuri shrugs.

“Just wanted to know if I was interviewed. She said she’s rooting for the both of us, she seemed pretty relieved that we’re not going for the same position.”

That’s right. While I was pulled in for an interview with Sejin, Yuri was pulled in for an interview with TXT’s managers. As far as we’re concerned, we’re now contending for our spots as soulmate assistants to two different groups. And considering that each group is only looking for 1 assistant, it’s pretty competitive. The instructor did say there was a small chance of hiring two per group, just depending on their needs. One of those would only be a part-time assistant though. Definitely not the ideal position.

“Yeah, same here-”

Yuri’s phone lights up again, and this time there is no sigh of relief as she sees who’s calling.

Looking up at me with wide eyes, she looks like she might throw up all the food we just ate. “It’s the agency.”

Gasping aloud, I drop my chopsticks and wave at her to hurry. “Answer it! Quick!” Yuri gives me a terrified look before slowly bringing the phone up to her ear. I chew on my lip as I watch her expression change from terrified to startled.

“R-really? That’s great news!” Yuri bounces up and down in her seat, and I mirror her movement. “Of course! 9am? Sounds perfect...I’ll be there! Thank you so much!”

She drops her phone on the table as she pants. “...so?” I ask her, and she grins up at me.

“I got the job!”

We both scream a little louder than necessary, the people sitting in the both across from us glaring in our direction. “No way! That was so fast!”

She nods, running her hands through her hair. “I know! They just said the decision was easier to make than they expected, seeing as I have the most experience out of the people they interviewed. I’m supposed to head in tomorrow to go over the contract and get to work.”

There’s a little twist of uncertainty in the pit of my stomach as I realize that Yuri was hired within a matter of hours. What does that mean for me?

“That’s amazing, Yuri. I’m so proud of you.”

She shakes her head, unable to stop smiling. “I’ve got to call my mom, should we head out?” I nod, following her out of the restaurant. She’s practically skipping to a taxi, waving it over. I laugh at her behavior.

“I can’t believe it though. Make sure you tell Yeonjun that we’re meant to be best friends.”

Yuri slides into the taxi, and I follow after her. She fixes me with a dazed smile as she gives directions to her apartment. We live in the same complex, so it’s easy to go anywhere with her.

“I’ll be sure to tell him. Who knows, maybe the two of you are soulmates!” Yuri winks at me even as I cringe.

“No way, he’s way too young for me.”

Rolling her eyes, Yuri manages to get one more comment out before her mother answers the phone. “Whatever, you’re only like what? Three years older? Mom! Guess what!”

By the time we make it to our apartments Yuri is still gushing to her mom on the phone. My own parents texted me, I just responded and told them I was interviewed. Their obvious excitement over making the interview fails to buoy me up, though. Not when I’m becoming more and more convinced that I’m not going to be receiving a call tonight.

Perhaps I’ll wake up to a consolation email in the morning, thanking me for my time and sending me on my way.

Yuri invites me over to her apartment to continue in the celebrations, but I opt out of it. She frowns, about to apologize or something but I speak up before she can. I don’t want any apologies; not yet. That makes it seem like it’s really over.

“My parents are begging me to call them and you know how long they can talk for,” I say, backing away. “I’d better go call them now so I can still get to sleep at a decent time. Congrats again, Yuri. You deserve it. Let me know how everything goes tomorrow, ok?”

Yuri nods, still frowning. “You sure you don’t need anything?”

“Nope! I’m all good. Good night!”

I wave before turning and heading up the stairs. Yuri lives on the ground floor whereas I live on the third. It’s a small apartment complex, and it’s pretty quiet most of the time. Tonight though, people are celebrating the weekend, and the sounds delve into my ears until I have to screw my eyes shut and press my hands up to my ears.

Leaning against my door the second I close it behind me, I sigh. The thoughts are too loud in my head right now.

What started off as a hopeful day has effectively crashed and burned right before my eyes.

Peaking one eye open I glare at the big world map I have hanging up in my living room. To anyone else it’s just another lovely piece of artwork. Painted on a thin canvas with vibrant greens, blues and purples it draws the eye and fills people with wanderlust.  

For me it represents a dream that is becoming more and more unobtainable.

My best friend from my childhood found her soulmate five years ago. We were freshly graduated from high school, it was perfect. I thought that it was perfect, at least. They were able to finish growing up together, figuring out college and taking time to really fall in love before life became too crazy to hardly eat.

They got married two years ago. It was beautiful and they made it look so easy. They finished up college together and moved to Gwacheon. I haven’t seen her for a year now, we’ve just been naturally growing apart.

She’s always been supportive of me trying to find my soulmate. It’s odd, seeing that I’ve always been the one obsessed with learning about them and preparing for that moment and she’s the one that just happened to stumble upon her soulmate right after she turned 18. But she never made me feel like I was falling behind or at a loss.

Our last phone call reminds me of the entire reason why I bought that gigantic world map in the first place, hanging it where I would see it every time I walked in the door at the end of the day.

“You know Haneul, he’s out there. There’s no question about that.”

“I know...just, where? I’m starting to think that he doesn’t want to be found.”

“That’s not true. And if it is, I’ll personally slug him for you.”

“Thanks, I think?”

“You know what you need to do, Han?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“Of course I am. You just have to go out there! Get out in the world, get out of Seoul, and go live your life! The second you get out and start living your life will be when everything falls into place for you. I’m certain of it.”

“I’d love to do that, really. But how on earth do I manage that? I need a stable job, I have an apartment to pay for. I can’t just leave everything to go in search of someone I’ve never met and who maybe isn’t ready to be found.”

“It’s up to you. But I know you, and you’re not happy. I can’t imagine it, I’m not going to pretend to understand. We both know I got lucky...but really Haneul. I know it’s scary and there’s a lot that you don’t know the first thing about, but I just think that if you want to move on from this you have to leave the apartment and get out there. And you think he isn’t ready to be found? Nobody ever is. But I can guarantee that the two of you are both ready to be loved.”

It’s been nearly ten months since that phone call, and it’s been nearly ten months since I became friends with Yuri and found out about the agencies beginning their hiring process. It seemed too good to be true, especially once I found out about the heavy schedule filled with nearly nonstop travelling and meeting people.

I always knew there was a reason I went into the soulmates studies. Finally it seemed like the opportunities were appearing that I so desperately needed.

Ten months. Rigorous training and exhausting schedules that sometimes had me wondering if this really was the right path for me.

But every night, sometimes late enough to see the black sky begin to turn to a hazy gray with the promise of dawn approaching before I even had a chance to sleep, I stumbled home and saw that map.

Somewhere. Every night, I’d see it and chant the word to myself. Somewhere. You’re somewhere out there.

It’s worth it, isn’t it?

Slowly standing up from my position against the door, I glare at my phone as I take it from my pocket. No phone call.

Another glance at the map, the beautiful colors and lines mocking me as it tells me that while he may be somewhere, I am still here. And as long as I remain here, where my soulmate is will be a big question mark.

No phone call. No job. No soulmate.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I make my way to my bedroom. Now would probably be a great time to shower, but I’d much rather just lay here on my bed and stare up at the ceiling as I wallow in self-pity.

“Happy Friday night to me.”

☆

I think it’s on the third ring that I wake up from my slumber, still in my clothes from the day before. Groaning out a few incoherent words, I search my blanket for where my phone is ringing incessantly.

“Who…?”

Finally grasping my phone, I hold it up to my squinting eyes. My mouth drops open of its own accord, my heart rate spiking. Clearing my throat, I attempt to sound like I didn’t just wake up as I answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, I’m calling for Choi Haneul?”

My voice gets caught in my throat. “S-speaking.”

“Wonderful. My apologies for calling you so early, I’m manager Sejin, I interviewed you yesterday?”

Straightening out my clothes even though he can’t see them, I nearly scoff at the idea of him having to introduce himself. Like I’d forget.

“Right, no worries. How may I help you?” Slipping into the role of gracious host, I chew on my lip.

Sejin wastes no time getting to the point. “We certainly didn’t expect to come to a decision so quickly, but after reviewing the interviews and applicants, you were a standout Miss Choi. As a representative of Bighit entertainment and manager of BTS, I would like to offer you the position of central soulmate assistant. That is, if you’re still interested.”

I’m practically floating above the floor by the time Sejin finishes speaking. “I- yes! Yes, I would be honored.”

Sejin chuckles lowly. “That’s perfect. Let’s see it’s...6:30 am now? Would you be alright to head in to the company by 9 to go over your contract and meet with the senior soulmate assistant?”

He could have asked me to show up wearing nothing but a garbage bag at 3 in the morning, and I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

“Of course, I’ll be there!”

“I’ll send you an email with where to go and further instructions.”

“Thank you!”

Laughing again, Sejin allows me this bit of joy. “Thank you, Miss Choi. I’ll see you shortly.”

I’m nearly panting as I end the call, falling back against my bed and staring up at the ceiling with a mad grin. Then, body bursting with excitement I leap up from the bed and hurdle into the front room.

Hurtling to a stop before my map still hanging on the wall, I call my parents.

☆

“I wonder what it’s liiiiike,” I sing at the top of my lungs as I rummage through my closet for something to wear. Double checking the email from manager Sejin, I decide that it might be best to bring in some backup.

Bringing my phone up to my ear, I wait for Yuri to answer the phone. It’s barely seven in the morning, chances are she’s just getting ready as well.

“Haneul?”

The grin that’s been a permanent resident on my face for the past thirty minutes grows wider. “Yuri! I was wondering, could I carpool with you to the agency?”

It’s silent on the other side while Yuri connects the dots. “What do you mean...wait, shut up! You got it?! You got the job?!”

Yuri screams louder than I did while I was on the phone with my parents, but now I can’t help but scream right back. “YES! I got it! They just called me this morning!”

We’re both a happy mess as Yuri decides to bring her things upstairs to get ready with me. “I already picked out my outfit last night, I’ll just bring it up. Be right there!!” She really doesn’t waste any time, because less than two minutes later I open the door to find a panting Yuri nearly buried beneath her pile of clothes and makeup bags.

“Here, let me take that,” I mutter, laughing as she lets me ease some items of clothing off of her pile. “That was fast.”

“Han!!! I’m so happy for you!” As soon as we dump her stuff on my bed, Yuri pounces on me and begins trying to strangle me like a boa constrictor. “I was so nervous for you, and I didn’t want this to drive us apart. I knew for a fact that you were by far the most qualified, they would’ve been complete idiots to let you go!”

Laughing, I drag the both of us over to the closet. “What are you wearing to this, then? What does ‘casual-nice’ even look like?”

Yuri takes the opportunity to show me her outfit, my jaw dropping as she puts it on and shows it off.

“I was thinking something like this,” Yuri says as she straightens out the sleeves of the sweater she wears beneath the checkered brown dress.

My mouth drops open of its own accord. “Wow.”

Yuri frowns as she goes to look at herself in the mirror. “Is it too much?”

“No,” I shake my head as I delve into my thoughts. “I’m just thinking that you’re going to make everyone in there wish you were their soulmate.”

Cheeks turning a furious red color, Yuri waves off my comment. “Whatever. Let’s find you something to wear.”

In the end I try on four different outfits before settling on one that I think will do the job. It’s certainly more simple than Yuri’s but I find that it’s more functional.

“So pretty,” Yuri coos as she gets ready beside me, the vanity proving to have just enough space for the two of us.

“Me or you?” I question, smirking at her. Yuri grins.

“Both.”

☆

Yuri ends up driving us to the agency, much to my eternal gratitude. Once the time came closer, I began to become more and more nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve started a new job; I’ve been working at the university for the past four years and only quit about a month ago in order to make room for the rigorous training that was a result of making it to the final round of applicants.

I’m grateful for Yuri’s company as she chatters about how excited she is, it’s keeping my mind off of the nerves that are currently tying themselves into a knot in the pit of my stomach.

“I just really think that the boys seem really genuine, you know?” She says, tapping out the beat to the song playing on the radio on the steering wheel. “From everything that I’ve seen and heard about them, they seem really cool. I’m excited to meet them.”

Shaking my head numbly as we slow to a stop before a red light, I try to remember just how badly I wanted this job. “Yeah, they do. I’m jealous, I wanted TXT!”

Yuri cackles as she glances over at me. “You can’t even complain, you’re probably going to be paid way more than me!”

That much is true. While Yuri will still be traveling a lot and certainly have her hands full with the five members, I’m going to be paid more. With the constant traveling, meetings, and seven total members, my job will be nonstop.

Either way, the moral of the story is this: we’re about to make some major money. But there won’t really ever be enough time to spend it.

That’s not why people become soulmate assistants. Those that go after it for the money are quickly weeded out. A job that requires all of your time and then some is exhausting, and the uncertain element of every situation is enough to drive some people crazy. I’ve heard about how concerts can be nightmares sometimes, especially when the crowd is huge.

Just imagine it: one of the group members makes eye contact with someone for less than a second, and suddenly they’ve got tunnel vision and are trying to jump off the stage into the sea of adoring fans that are all too happy to receive them. Then, somewhere in the crowd of thousands of fans, there’s a poor person who’s freaking out and feeling the symptoms of tachycardia, but guess what? So is everyone in the crowd. Adrenaline is pumping through them all since they’re at their favorite band’s concert.

Long story short, it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The biggest thing is for one of the soulmate assistants to grab the idol before they can abandon all reason and their heart gives out, and the other assistant has to find the fan who’s wildest dream just came true.

It doesn’t happen that often, but it has been known to happen on occasion. The most recent was at a TWICE concert, where Sana happened upon her soulmate in the middle of a set. The video of the soulmate assistant acting in record time to contain the situation went viral and it’s one that I had to watch several times throughout my training.

“You guys have a senior assistant, don’t you?” I ask, wondering at my title as central soulmate assistant.

“Yep,” Yuri starts back up again as the light turns green, checking the clock. We’ve still got plenty of time. “From the email they sent me it sounds like I’ll be a junior assistant for about six months before moving up to senior.”

“So fast?”

Yuri shrugs. “Sounds like the senior assistant is about ready to retire. What’s your title?”

“Central.”

“Oh, so fancy.”

There are typically two different forms of soulmate assistant hierarchy; the junior/senior pattern and then the central system.

Junior/senior system is pretty self-explanatory: the senior assistant has typically worked with the group for a while already, and the junior assistant acts as an apprentice of sorts. Learning the trade and preparing to someday take over the responsibilities of the senior assistant. They work as a team to ensure the safety of the group.

A central assistant is a more in-depth and new system. Essentially, I’ll have eyes and ears everywhere from various staff members, who are constantly updating me on potential soulmates. All of the staff have been educated in the basics of soulmate studies, so they know what to do to subdue the situation if need be.

According to Sejin’s email, I will most likely be the only licensed soulmate assistant on the team. My job is to remain close to the members so I can hopefully be the first on the scene to help and get everything under way.

It’s exciting, but also a lot of pressure. My only hope is that the boys don’t run into their soulmates for a while; I would like to at least get to know everyone before having to get all up in their personal space.

The agency looms before us in the morning sun, looking somehow inviting and dreadful at the same time. Yuri follows what the security tells her at the front, parking in the parking garage before turning the car off.

8:42.

“We’re a bit early, but at least now we’ll be able to find where we’re supposed to go.”

I nod numbly at her words, trying to fight the pounding in my heart. 

Side Effect #1: Rapid Pulse Rate

“I’m kind of freaking out.”

“Me too. I’m glad you’re here, though.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too.” I grin at Yuri.

It’s quiet in the car before we build up the courage to get out. Our shoes tap against the ground, filling the silent garage with noise. Once inside, we’re directed by a receptionist toward the offices of Sejin and TXT’s management. They’re on the same floor, so we take the elevator together.

As soon as the doors close, Yuri lets out a squeal. “I’m going to dieeee!”

Laughing giddily at her reaction, I lean up against the wall of the elevator and try my best to control my breathing. “Same. Same. Whoo, I need to breathe.”

Side Effect #2: Shortness of breath

The elevator ride is entirely too short, because before I know it Yuri is dragging me out into the hallway and searching for the office #12. I’m supposed to be looking for #17.

Of course Yuri finds hers first, my friend coming to a stop just before the door, turning to grab my hand with surprising strength.

“Quick, tell me that I’ll be fine,” she hisses.

Gently removing her hand from mine, I give her an encouraging smile. “You’ll do great, and everything will work out just fine, Yuri.”

Rolling her shoulders, she gives me a mock salute before stepping up to the door. “See you later?”

“Good luck.”

I scamper past as she knocks on the door, looking back as she’s ushered in by a middle-aged man who must be the senior soulmate assistant. He wears the tell-tale yellow circle on his shirt, his eyes wide and alert as though always on the lookout.

He must have left an apprentice with TXT; there are always a few mulling about the agency to step in for the main assistants when they need to attend to other things.

#17 is just a few doors down, the door already wide open as I walk up to it. I don’t allow myself to pause and freak out again, because I’m scared that they’ll hear me start screaming out here or something.

Shoving down the nervousness to the corners of my mind, I take a deep breath and tap the open door lightly.

Sejin sits at his desk, talking quietly to someone sitting in the chair before his desk. He looks up at me, smiling politely. The person in the chair before him turns around at the sound of my knock, and I find myself face to face with none other than the leader of BTS.

“Miss Choi, great to see you,” Sejin stands, Namjoon as well as he waves.

I bow, hoping that my face isn’t too red as I look into the office. It looks like it’s just Namjoon. What a relief.

“Thank you for calling me back,” I say, nodding to Namjoon. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Namjoon smiles at me, gesturing for me to take the seat beside him. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Sejin spoke highly of you.”

Shuffling into the office, I give Sejin a surprised look. “That was kind of you.”

“I was only telling the truth. Namjoon helped me make the decision in regards to the position, so don’t just thank me.”

Namjoon gives me a sheepish smile before settling back down in the chair. I follow suit, mumbling out a small ‘thank you’.

Once we’re all settled, Sejin produces a packet and slides it across the table to me, another one to Namjoon, and keeps one for himself.

“Ok, shall we get started?”

Sejin begins explaining the contract, Namjoon listening intently beside me. The fact that Namjoon helped with all of this makes me feel a little better somehow. It makes me feel like I won’t be quite so out of place with BTS.

We’re stuck in his office for nearly an hour just going over the finer details of the job, and by that time I’ve finally come out of my shell enough to form a few intelligent questions.

“How many staff members do you have that went through soulmate training within the past three months?” I ask, leaning back in my chair as I examine the Staff Preparedness section in the contract.

Sejin looks over something on his computer. “Within the past three months? Only two; the rest are within the year. We have them renew the course once a year. Why three months?”

“There was a technique that was completely discredited by Léo Dupont and they just began applying it in soulmate training within the past three months. While it may not seem that important, it can sometimes make a big difference in timing.”

Namjoon looks at me with wide eyes, a hint of respect blooming there. “What was the technique he discredited?”

“The glass door technique. It was believed that if the soulmates could still see each other but refrain from actual physical contact, this would assist in the ‘come down’ from the surge in heart rate.”

“It doesn’t?” Sejin asks.

I shake my head. “No, in fact, recent studies show that it nearly doubled the ‘come down’ time. It also served as a spike in the heart rate, long after it should have returned to a normal range. It nearly killed Jennifer Aniston before someone moved her to a more secure location. Best case scenario is a complete cut-off from view, and engaging in verbal contact rather than physical.”

“That’s good to know,” Sejin mumbles, typing something out on his laptop. “I’ll send out a memo with that information as well as advise staff to renew their training as soon as possible.”

We go over a few more details before Namjoon sits up in his seat. “We’re about done, right? I just got a text from Soobin saying they’re all gathered up and ready to go.”

My heart rate spikes again as I realize that we must be meeting together after this. And from the sounds of it, it’s practically the entire agency.

“Yeah, just about. Do you want to sign, Namjoon, and you can head out?”

Namjoon signs Sejin’s copy of the contract before getting up and heading toward the door. “We’re excited to have you join the team, Miss Choi.”

“Thank you! And you can just call me Haneul, don’t worry about it.”

Namjoon’s dimples make an appearance as he smiles back at me. “Then I’m just Namjoon to you. See you guys in a bit.”

Sejin covers the last few points in the span of ten or so minutes, clearly ready to get going like I am. We finish up going over vacation days when he leans back with a sigh.

“And yeah, I think that’s about it. Any questions? Today you’ll be getting a feel for the schedule and meet the boys and staff you’ll be working closely with, so don’t hesitate to ask them any more questions as they come.”

Palms starting to sweat with the idea of meeting the rest of Bighit shortly, I give a curt shake of the head. “I think I’m good for now.” Ignoring the tightness in my chest, I reach out for the contract.

Side Effect #3: Chest pain

“Wonderful. Just sign here, and I’ll send you a copy of this.”

☆

Sejin and I walk down the hall after being dropped off at the fifth floor. The second the elevator doors opened I could hear the ruckus of two kpop groups in one room.

To my shock Yuri’s voice rings out, followed by a bout of laughter. It would appear that she’s already found her place.

Sejin gives me an encouraging smile as we inch closer to the room at the end of the hall. “You ready? It’s been a pretty big couple of days for you.”

I can’t help but find comfort in Sejin’s attitude. I’m glad he understands the deer in the headlights look I’m probably sporting right now.

I hope my soulmate is like him.

The thought passes through my mind suddenly, making me go blank for a moment. While it’s a true sentiment, I have to focus on making a good impression today so I can find my soulmate another day.

One day at a time, Hanuel.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond, offering him a shaky smile in return. Sejin chuckles, and I wonder if he felt the same way early on in his manager days. I wonder if he still occasionally feels that way, now that BTS has grown more than anyone ever expected.

He goes before me, entering the room and already falling into a conversation with someone. I hesitate for a second, my heart pounding so hard that it’s hard to focus. Rolling my neck, I take a step into the room.

“Ah, there she is!” Yuri chirps out, leaving from where she was beside Beomgyu, who was showing her a video on his phone. “You guys took a long time.”

If my heart wasn’t currently trying to leap out of my ribcage, I would come up with something funny to say.

“Haneul is very thorough,” Sejin comments from where he stands beside one of the TXT managers. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

“Quick,” I hear someone speak up, “Everyone pretend like Sejin didn’t just say her name!”

It was Hueningkai that made the comment. I can tell who it was because the boy in question is currently dodging an elbow to the ribs from Taehyun. Yuri laughs at their behavior before looking back to me expectantly.

“Oh,” my voice sounds a bit croaky. After clearing my throat, I try again. “Hello everyone. I’m Choi Haneul, it’s nice to meet you all.”

The seven members of BTS come up to the front, gathering in a line like it’s second nature. Namjoon gives me a small smile, which I take comfort in.

“Well, you’ve met me already...this is everyone else.”

Taehyung steps forward, giving me a small wave and grinning wide. “Just call me Tae.”

Jimin gives his friend a wide-eyed look. “Isn’t that a bit informal for just meeting?” Tae’s cheeks go a little red.

“Is it?” He asks, and I nearly pass out from the amount of sweetness in the room. “I think we’ll be good friends, so why not just skip the formalities?”

The boys reflect various levels of long-suffering as Jungkook shakes his head while the rest of the room laughs at Tae’s odd manner. “We both know it doesn’t work like that.”

Sejin answers the question I didn’t even know I was thinking. “In case you’re wondering, they’re always like this. Might as well get used to it.”

Yuri giggles at my reddened cheeks, but I brush off the embarrassment enough to look back at the boys. “That’s good to know.” The boys break from their line in order to return to wherever they were lounging about earlier. Once they turn to leave I feel a bit better; my heart calming down. Hopefully, with time, I’ll be able to breathe properly around them.

I remain near the door, unsure as to what to do next. It looks like Sejin and the other managers are preparing to give a debriefing of sorts and everyone is just waiting around for it. Thankfully, Yuri remains beside me.

“How are you holding up?” She asks me quietly. I give her a long look, conveying the depth of my feelings perfectly.

“I can’t calm down. I feel like I’m either going to pass out or going to run the length of Seoul in five minutes flat.”

Side Effect #4: Lightheadedness and/or fainting (syncope) 

Yuri snorts. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Taehyung calls out to me, pulling me from my conversation. “You’re from Seoul, Miss Choi?”

I smile warmly at him, already taking a liking to him. He’s one big contradiction: his looks make him appear intimidating, but he has the warmest personality.

“I’m originally from Anyang, actually. But I’ve been in Seoul for the past five years.”

“Oh, we’re neighbors!”

Jin is the one who spoke, and I look to where he stands behind the couch, leaning down to watch something on Jungkook’s phone. His eyes are turned up to me, a hint of excitement at being from neighboring cities evident in his expression.

Less than a second is all it takes.

In the second grade, I learned that within the span of a single second, a bumblebee can beat its wings 200 times.

That fact fascinated my young brain; 200 times in a single second?! Of all the wonders in the world I had discovered and had yet to discover in my life, this was the fact that stayed with me. How could such a small creature accomplish such an improbable feat, all within the confines of the time it takes to blink?

My junior year of high school I learned that the average pair of soulmates begin to experience the initial spike in heart rate that leads to tachycardia within the first 0.002 seconds of eye contact. That means, even if it’s a passing glance, the moment those two sets of eyes make contact, everything is about to change.

As I hold eye contact with Jin across the room, I believe that there is a small part of me that knows I should be thinking about everything I’ve learned about soulmates over the past few years. Where are the steps I used to recite day and night in order to keep them memorized?

Yet, that little 8 year old girl with wonder-filled eyes as she learns about bumblebee’s amazing abilities is the only thing I can come up with. Almost as if she’s in the room with me, looking back and forth between Jin and I with that same expression.

Something clicks for me in that single moment as my heart rate continues to jolt and jump. Something seems to connect between bumblebees and soulmates.

Like a bumblebee’s wings frantically beating to keep itself aloft, my own heart begins to do its best to meet the same pace.

Side Effect #5: Heart palpitations (a racing, uncomfortable or irregular heartbeat or a sensation of "flopping" in the chest)

I’m barely aware of distant voices all around me, a few growing in volume as the truth sinks in. I feel arms trapping my own against my torso, and I gasp for air as breathing becomes more difficult. Frowning, I realize that someone is trying to move me away.

Away?

Jin seems to notice I’m being moved away at the same time I do, because the frozen posture he had is broken as he straightens and lurches forward.

He’s all I can see. It strikes me in that moment that he looks a bit different in real life. Sharper, yet somehow more welcoming. Those eyes, although frantic, have kindness imbued in them. The fingers that are outstretched toward me are a bit crooked, and I can’t help but wonder for a moment if our hands will fit together like everyone always says soulmates do.

Wait, soulmates?

Amidst the pounding in my chest and burning lungs, I suddenly have a moment of clarity. The wiry arms wrapped around my torso must belong to Yuri, and she’s speaking calmly into my ear.

“Count with me, Haneul. 1, 2, 3…”

Opening my mouth and marveling at how dry and scratchy my throat feels, I croak out, “...4…5…”

“What comes next, Han?”

“...6.”

Yuri hums, gently trying to ease me backward. When my body locks up, she tries a new method. Coming around to face me, she keeps a firm grip on my shoulders, and gets up on her tippy toes to look me in the eyes.

“We’ve got to move you to a separate room, Han. You remember, don’t you?”

There’s a small voice in my head that wants to tell her that yes, I do remember. However it’s drowned out by the sound of my heart beating in my ears as it continues to pick up speed. Yuri is instructing the boys to grab Jin as he continues marching toward me on shaky legs. He’s only about three feet away, arms extending toward me while Yuri pins my arms down and shoves.

“Grab him!” Yuri shouts even as I cry out from being shoved away. In a flash I see a couple of different pairs of arms reaching out to Jin, effectively stopping him in his tracks as he struggles against them.

“Please,” Jin says in a surprisingly calm voice even as he pushes against Jungkook and Sejin. “Please, just let me-”

“Han, I know your mind is a jumbled mess right now, but please. Remember that this is a matter of life or death. You want to see him?” Yuri doesn’t wait for my response, which makes sense as I haven’t once looked away from Jin. “Then get out of here. Now.”

Like an electric shock to my senses, I breathe in deep. Still unable to look anywhere other than Jin - his sweater has a loose thread on the collar, I should fix that for him - I do the only thing I can.

Closing my eyes is like swimming through concrete, but gritting my teeth I just manage to do it. The second I break contact with Jin, my body relaxes just enough for Yuri to push against me and shove my unwilling feet out the door.

She has a firm grip on the back of my shoulders still as she shouts out to nobody in particular, “I need a room!”

Someone must answer her, because we abruptly change directions before coming to a stop. I refuse to open my eyes for fear of falling back into the imobile state I was in before, and Yuri still hasn’t given me the clear.

“Yeonjun, grab my bag! Bring it to me.”

The sounds of everyone scampering around are drowned out as I hear Jin’s broken voice calling out once more.

“No, don’t take her. Please don’t take her from me.”

Like a dam of freezing water breaking over my head, my eyes open and I spin around, seeing Jin breaking free of Sejin’s grasp and dragging Jungkook along with him.

Just as my eyes find his once more, the door slams shut.

Part 2

masterlist

taglist: @taylorroe3​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @thecaffeinatedscribbles​ @marianeamine 

[star-killer-md]

Actus Reus, Mens Rea

@contesa-lui-alucard asked:

Hey hey happy sleepover my friend!! If it’s alright with you, I have two prompts from the Smut list that I’d love to see you combine for... mob Kylo and lawyer reader! Oh snap!! 15 & 37, if you please. If not, no worries, I still hope you have an awesome sleepover 😁 (“Make it hurt, baby.” + “Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.”)

Anon asked:

hello, may i request clingy/possessive kylo,, thank you

Thank you lovlies for your requests and sorry from the bottom of my depressed ass heart that it took me so fucking long. Anyway here ya go, hope you enjoy some mobster Kylo deliciousness. I’m so excited you liked him Contesa, and I hope you’re into it as well too nonny! Sorry it got long, I truly have no control over that. 

And thank you so much to @sacklersdoll for reading over this for me!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angst (its me), Smut (its me), mentions of predator/prey dynamic (mostly as metaphor), possessive Kylo Ren, semi-public sex, no pronouns for the reader by they are afab, dominant Kylo Ren, some brat vibes, Kylo Ren is not nice, allusions to guns, some sorta stalking behavior

Ship: Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: You’ve started to take on some pro bono clients as a favor to a friend and Kylo Ren is Not A Fan™ of all the attention this guy has been paying you. After a few months of consulting on the side, you’re beginning to wonder if life working for a mob boss is something you’re really cut out for. Though you quickly learn that you very well may have passed the point of no return when Kylo shows up at your office to remind you just who exactly you work for. 

“I really can’t thank you enough.”

You shook the woman’s hands and returned her smile. Her son stayed quiet, looking at the ground, but mumbled his thanks as well. He was a good kid. Just pissed off the wrong neighbor. One of those ‘get off my lawn,’ ‘good ole American dream’ types who thought welfare was a sign of the devil, and had it out for everyone in the lower tax brackets. 

“Really, it’s no problem,” you walked them to the door, leaving her your business card. “I’ll see you both at the courthouse on Monday.” 

Evan was waiting in your office when you returned. His patent leather shoes rested precariously on the corner of your desk and you knocked them off with a huff. 

“See you’ve made yourself at home,” you said, crossing your arms and staring down at him in your chair. 

He shrugged and stood under your scrutiny, moving around to take the seat across from you. Evan Goodman was an old friend from undergrad. You often got the impression he was still that same cocky frat boy in the head. Still flashed the ‘my daddy has more money than you’ smile on occasion when he really wanted to get under your skin. With his slicked back hair, unnervingly straight teeth, and his annoying prosperity despite never putting in much effort it was somewhat shocking the two still spoke. He was simply not the type of person who had ever needed to try. Success came naturally to him, and much to your dismay.

“What can I say? You’re a very gracious host,” he mused and leaned forward on the desk. “So, how did it go?”

You sighed, “They’ll be alright, might get saddled with a fine but the charges aren’t that serious.” 

“Good, Rosa’s an old friend. I would have helped her out myself, but not really my deal ya know?”

“Yeah, Mr. Tax Attorney, I get it.” 

Evan was kind of a dick, but he was also the kind of friend who would sit on the bathroom floor with you, hold your hair back and sing horrendous parody versions of ABBA no matter who heard. So you couldn’t hate him entirely. That also meant that when he came to you with cases like this, a favor for a friend or whatever the situation may be, you had a hard time refusing. 

It was also a convenient front for you not-so-legal legal work you’d been invested in for the past few months.

“Seriously, I know I’ve been asking a lot of you recently,” he flashed you that god awful grin and kicked his feet up again. “You can tell me to fuck off if it’s too much.” 

He had been coming to you for pro bono work with increasing frequency, especially over the past month or so, but again, you didn’t wholly mind it. You went into this kind of work for a reason. Though, you were starting to get the feeling that a certain, brooding, less than lawfully abiding businessman did not feel the same. 

Kylo Ren dealt frequently with the shady, black market underbelly of capitalist society, but you were less accustomed to his world and not completely ready to throw yourself to the hounds just yet.

You had already missed more than a few meetings and canceled on dinner tonight to meet with Rosa. To be fair, it wasn’t as if he’d made any indication this ill-defined whatever-it-was going on between the two of you was anything serious. And you were only his consultant, for now, so this took precedent anyway. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. Definitely not a way to avoid thinking about fucking your boss who also happened to be in with the mob. 

Definitely not.  

“I wouldn’t have agreed to help if I couldn’t manage it,” you yawned softly and stood to collect your things. 

It was late and you were beginning to fantasize about how soft and warm your sheets would be. If you got back in time you could pop them in the dryer and get in an episode or two before bed. 

“Hey, let me at least buy you dinner or something since I kept you out so late,” Evan parked his skinny frame in your path to the doorway. 

“You’re going to apologize for keeping me out late, by keeping me out even later?”

“Do you want free food or not?”

Pursing your lips, you stared at him for a few moments. He really did know all your weaknesses. You had skipped out on meeting with Mr. Ren—or Kylo or sir or whatever the hell you were supposed to call him now—already tonight, however, Evan was sure to take you somewhere nice and it wouldn’t be so morally repugnant if it was just as a ‘thank you….’

“Okay, fine,” you conceded and let him lead you out to the parking garage, locking the office up behind you. 

***

The next morning you stumbled past reception in a haze. Both from lack of sleep, and the bitingly cold winds battering your building despite the neighboring high rises blocking the brunt of the gale. The young woman at the desk informed you tersely that a Mr. Goodman was already waiting for you in your office and that you should really get here on time if you were expecting clients this early. 

You agreed that, yes you probably should but, you know, “trains and all that mess,” and tried not to judge her too harshly. After all, she was the barrier between you and the hundreds of calls this place received daily. 

Before slipping through the door with your name plate, you hung your coat on the rack and switched your phone on. It’d died on you last night amidst the allure of fancy, late night dinner and your sleep deprivation riddled brain had not cared enough to plug it in before bed. Fuck Amazon, but thank god for its speedy delivery of portable charges. 

You chewed your lip as the lock screen came to life. One missed call and a text. Both, of course from the most anxiety inducing sender, Kylo Ren. Because why would it be anyone else? His name menacing even typed out in standard black font. 

The text read:

Meet me at 8am.

It was very much like him—a command with punctuation and absolutely no details. The message receipt showed it was sent two hours ago, and it was already half past eight. Shit. Your fingers shook as you pulled up his contact and called. Every interaction left you coursing with adrenaline. Even now, miles away listening to the dial tone was nerve-wracking. Your heart pounded, hands slick in their grip on your phone. Maybe it was because you were never sure where you stood with him. Maybe it was because he was handsome and he knew it. Strong and he knew it. Intimidating and mysterious and closer in some ways to a Greek god than a man. He was all encompassing, and filled every available space in any room he occupied. 

Sometimes you thought you might choke on his presence. 

It rang once, twice, three times before cutting out completely. You stared down at the blank screen, biting your lip and shooting off a quick text. You were sorry, something important had come up, you would meet him the second it was convenient. 

Evan slapped you heartily on the back when you came into the room. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, evergreen with small white blossoms. 

“So, how many hours did you manage last night?” he asked, smiling his shit eating smile and seemingly unaffected despite the fact that he had to be running on just as little sleep as you.  

“I’m not even sure at this point,” you groaned as you tossed your bags down behind the little metal desk. “Time ceases to exist when you take trains past midnight.”

“Fair enough. Hey look,” Evan waved the greenery in your face, “courtesy of Rosa’s shop. She insisted I bring you something as thanks. I figured you could put them out in the front or something to brighten things up.” 

“They’re lovely. Please tell me you’re only here as a glorified delivery boy.”

His shoulders slumped at your lack of amusement, but before he could quip back the landline in your office rang. You answered, holding a finger towards Evan and leaning against the edge of the desk. It was the receptionist, Jess was her name? Maybe? You could never remember, someone else always addressed the holiday gift cards anyway. 

“There’s someone here to see you at the front desk,” she clipped, almost more exasperated than before. 

You told her you’d be right there and hung up. Evan grabbed his coat as you headed out, holding the door for you and following into the hall. 

“I’ll leave you to it if you’re busy, but give me a call after Monday and tell me how it goes,” he continued rambling as you came out into the front.

You had a smart comeback prepared, something about how simple the case was, he should have more faith in you, he was the reason you were busy in the first place, etc…but every word turned to ashes on your tongue when you saw him. 

Kylo Ren, standing right there at the desk and glaring at your receptionist. His suit was dark blue and ironed to perfection. Each leg was creased perfectly down the front and the jacket sat flawlessly on his wide set shoulders. He was a wall of unimaginably expensive fabric and what looked concerning like barely contained rage. You could see it in the twitch of his eye, the set of his jaw, and in the way his gaze landed on you the second you walked in. 

The way a predator immediately hones in on its prey. 

You froze just feet from him in the lobby, floundering like a fish on a hook. 

Evan, for his part, seemed not to notice the tension at all and continued to say his long winded goodbyes, placing the flowers in your hands and completely unaware of the slow, measured tightening of Kylo’s massive hands into fists at his side. 

“I’m free on Monday evening so we should—” 

“She’ll be busy.” 

Evan frowned, turning to face the man standing before him, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Kylo’s voice was a dark thing, low and rumbling, “She will be otherwise occupied.” 

His words were punctuated by a step towards you, one paw of a hand easily gripping your entire jaw. Lucky he did too, otherwise it would have dropped straight to the floor when he shot one last cobra strike glare in Evan’s direction, and pressed his mouth to yours. Right there. In the lobby. For everyone to see.  

The absolute bastard.

His lips were pillow plump and softer than the silk lining of his suit—and even through the surge of shock and embarrassment and more than a touch of anger—you felt your heart throb at the way he licked into your mouth. 

The flowers tumbled from your hands onto the floor as everything in you went limp under his touch. This was nowhere near the first time you’d tasted him, but it was like this every time. Like drinking ambrosia. An otherworldly experience. 

But that didn’t stop the sharp pain of his crushing grip on your arm, the way he nearly lifted your feet off the floor when he pulled away to drag along behind him. You could hear Evan spluttering in the hall behind you, the receptionist going back to clacking at her keyboard as if nothing had happened. 

When Kylo opened your office door he just about threw you inside. You tripped as he tipped you in, stumbling and catching yourself on the edge of your desk. The power behind his hand alone was undeniable. You shuddered at the thought of the array of purple fingerprints he would leave behind. It made your mouth dry and your heart sink. Confusing and delicious. 

And left you seething nonetheless. 

“What the fuck was that?!” you were not calm, so you didn’t attempt any semblance of it. 

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, level as he always was. 

The quiet before the storm and all that. 

“About the meeting? I tried to call, my phone died—”

“Because you were out catching trains at all hours of the night, I’m aware.” 

You paused, glaring at the wall of muscle between you and the door, “How did you know that?”

“So you’re not denying it?”

Kylo stalked towards you like a beast in his tailored suit and polished leather shoes like talons. You could hear your heartbeat, hear the blood rushing in your ears. Just like a rabbit in the sightline of a hawk, you were clearly being hunted. 

“Why would I deny something I’m not trying to hide?” your voice came out horse as he caged you between the desk and his chest, arms on either side to block any route of escape. 

“No you are certainly not adept at subtlety,” he said and you couldn’t take your eyes off the way his tongue moved behind his teeth. “This is the fifth time that idiot in the hall has distracted you from work.”

“That’s not an answer,” you tried to spit the words but his eyes were boring into you. The honey of them spilled down your spine and made you shiver. “How did you know? You are not entitled to any information pertaining to my personal life, regardless.” 

“Watch your mouth,” he growled. “Entitlement has no part in this.”

You were entering dangerous territory, though stopping curiously did not occur to you.

“I don’t think you have the right to be throwing out commands right now, not after that display.”

“Have you forgotten who you work for?” Kylo hissed at you, hands wrapped around the metal of your desk so hard you thought it might warp under his fingers. 

“Of course not,” you desperately tried to keep your voice down lest anyone get even more a spectacle. 

“Then what is this?” one hand left the desk and pulled a phone from inside his jacket. 

The screen lit up, and you looked in horror at pictures of yourself. Pictures of yourself from last night. Pictures of yourself from last night at dinner with Evan, interspersed with shots of you crossing the street, waiting on the train platform, and stumbling back into your apartment. Each was clearer than you’d expected, presumably from some insanely expensive surveillance equipment. You had been out for hours, and you had been watched the whole time. 

You narrowed your eyes, flicking back and forth between Kylo’s face—the graceful bridge of his nose pointed down at you—and gaped. 

“You had me followed…” you breathed the words into the slowly shrinking space between your bodies. 

He simply nodded, as if, somehow, you were foolish for not having considered this before. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you had no idea what you had gotten yourself into. Perhaps you had signed on for much more than a paycheck when you agreed to work for Kylo Ren. 

“I can’t have my employees getting distracted.”

Kylo slowly drifted ever closer, shoulders bent so he was eye level with you. He pressed further into the desk, pinning you between his body and the hard surface that bit into your ass. Something long and thick and hard nudged your thigh. 

“I don’t know why you though having me followed was necessary—” 

“You’re an arrogant little slut who needs to be reminded of your priorities,” his hand snatched your leg and wrenched it open so he could stand between them, “ I am not something you do on the side.” 

You could hear the way his teeth grit out the words, the way they formed as a growl deep in his beast’s throat. The hand still settled on the desk, skimmed up your hip and chest, his fingers 

biting into your jaw. 

“Do you understand me?”

Your lips were shut tight in a thin line, eyes wide and staring up like the prey you were. The silence only provoked him more. Snarling, two thick fingers wrenched your mouth open, pressing hard on your tongue and making you gag around them. 

“Answer.” 

Kylo Ren almost always spoke in commands. Having power did that to people, and rarely did it ever compel you, but his words sunk deep into your bones. Dredged up some dark, instinctual need to obey. To submit to this show of control. 

“Yes,” you mumbled around his fingers in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips when they moved. 

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You watched him suck his teeth, grabbing your face tighter and dragging you close so he could spit directly into your open mouth. He slammed your jaw shut, nearly taking off the tip of your tongue and hissed into your ear. 

“Swallow.” 

Again, you did without a thought. And it was disgusting, but invigorating, sent off some spark in your stomach with how easily he bent your body to his will. There was no man like him, you decided. And maybe this was simply because Kylo Ren was not a man. That term alone would never do him justice. 

In one shockingly smooth motion, you found yourself flat on your back, ass hanging off the edge of the desk with his hands on your hips. He ground himself against you, the throbbing of his cock evident even through the layers of clothing. That feeling on its own had you soaked through, thighs sticking with liquid excitement. 

“Remember who you work for,” he growled into your neck, licking a long stripe up your throat and sucking at the exposed skin. 

But it was very clear to you what he really meant. 

Remember who you belong to. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth as he bit down on the skin just above your shoulder, laving his tongue over the stinging flesh. Kylo pulled back, frowning down at you and yanking the hand away from your face. One held both your wrists in a vice lock while the other ripped your panties straight down your legs and left the dripping fabric discarded on the carpet. 

“No, they’re going to hear you,” he grunted, and pulled one of your hands down, pressing it to your slit and running your fingers through your slick. “Go on, touch your fucking pussy and let them know what a little whore you are for me.” 

It was something about his voice. Something in the way it left him, its timbre, its wonder, unquestioning. You could never refuse him. 

So, with a small nod you parted your folds, head resting on a stack of files as you drew slow circles around your clit with a shaky hand. His eyes never left your cunt, tracing the movement of your finger and the trail of wetness that seeped from you to the desktop. Softly, you gasped as the familiar placement of your fingers made you clench and arch up. Kylo’s rubbed small circles into your inner thighs with his thumbs, kneading the flesh there. 

When the spark was there, the lovely pulsing in your nerves alight, you dipped down, teasing and slipping inside, grinding down as best you could on your hand. It wasn’t enough, but nothing ever was since you’d been ripped open on Kylo’s cock. 

Evidently he did not find your work sufficient either. 

Another finger joined yours, stroking your lips and circling your entrance. His touch made you whine, the promise of hands that were not your own never ceasing to illicit a new gush of pleasure. 

“I said,” he murmured, his touch so terribly feather light. “Let them hear you.” 

He was like a gunshot, sudden and forceful and almost instantly had you screaming. Kylo slammed his fingers into you, so full and so deep, curling hard against that lovely spot inside. 

“Kylo, god, please—” you moaned long and low, your face burning with the knowledge that the walls were barely thick enough to keep your phone calls private, much less the shameful noises he pulled from you. 

“What was that?” he panted, adding another finger and pumping them deep into your cunt. “You can do better.” 

Your teeth dug so hard into your lip you thought it might bleed, but you couldn’t take much more. The ledge was approaching—Kylo Ren knew it—and he was determined to push you straight into the fire. 

You choked when his deliciously thick fingers were ripped from you, walls fluttering around the awful emptiness. Your head lolled back as you listened to him work the buckle of his belt and slacks open, and when you did glance down your mouth watered at the sight. Kylo—impossibly long cock throbbing in his hand—stood between your legs, stroking himself from root to tip. You watched little pearls of precum bead at the head while his thumb swiped across to smear them along his length. 

“You are insane,” you hissed through gritted teeth. 

Did you need to keep this position? No, technically you would be more than well off on the salary Mr. Ren so graciously provided. However, you could not mentally deal with being terminated for getting dicked in your office during work hours. 

Kylo smirked, the edge of his perfect cupid’s bow cocked back and aimed straight at your chest. Without warning, he sunk into you, straight to the hilt and threw his head back as you sobbed with the sharp sting of being split in two on his cock. 

“This is what you do,” he growled into your ear, hands on either side of your head as he worked his length back out only to pound into you again. “You work for me and you take my cock and don’t ever fucking forget that.”  

Your legs were wound so tightly around his waist that had he been any other man, his ribs would have cracked under the pressure. His hair, falling in black, satin waves, was gorgeous even in the sterile office lighting. You threaded your fingers into it at the roots and held him while your body rocked against the desk. It’s metal surface pinched at your sink and made your back ache, though that was nothing compared to the burn of Kylo’s thrusts, sliding against your walls. You felt him in your throat. You always did. That was simply the way things were with him. He filled you painfully, thoroughly, took over all of your senses until it was just him. 

And, strangely, it was the most alive you’d ever felt. 

He was unlike anyone you’d ever known.

You couldn’t scream for him, but you could still let him taste the desperation, the willingness in your body to mold against him. So you kissed him, dragged him by the hair to meet your lips and licked past his teeth, gasping and moaning on his tongue as you sucked it hard and cried into his mouth. 

And he drank you down, picking up a punishing rhythm and breaking blood vessels where his hands gripped your hips. One drifted lower, thumb pressing down hard on your clit as your cunt clenched around his length. The desk was lifting off the ground with every thrust, the room filled with the wet sounds of your bodies and you were quickly melting under him. 

Warmth was spreading, growing, building out from your pussy, igniting in your veins. He was right. This is what you did. This is what he did to you. This toe curling, lip biting, bone shattering kind of pleasure. 

Oh you were so royally fucked. 

“I—oh shit—Kylo I’m,” you pulled back just enough to pant out a warning before the wave took you. 

So hot, it washed over your skin and made your legs shake and your hands leave his hair to dig your nails into his chest through the crisp white button down he wore. 

“Feel that?” he grunted as you convulsed and shuddered under him, “Feel how this pussy was made for me.” 

You nodded, buried your face in his neck and held on as he worked you through your climax and straight into his own. Once, twice he ground his cock deep in you, feeling how tight you were around him until he was spent and spilling hot, thick ropes of cum that coated your walls and dripped out around his length. 

He panted, lazily rolling his hips, fucking you slowly until finally, he came to a halt with his softening cock still sheathed inside you. Seconds past, or maybe hours, you couldn’t tell. Kylo tended to have that effect on you. Time slipped away so easily in his presence, like there was never enough of it. 

When he did pull away, you stayed with your back firmly planted amidst the mess of scattered paperwork and manila envelopes. He rose to his full, towering height and tucked himself away, straightening the wrinkles in his suit and eyeing you only once from the side. You admired his profile, you never understood until now what the meaning of the word “regal” truly was. 

Under the dictionary definition, his picture surely would be there, staring at you down the bridge of his marble carved nose. 

You sat up on your elbows as he stalked towards the door. 

“Was that all you came for?”

Kylo paused, broad back still facing you and leaving the room feeling irrevocably empty with just the intention of his absence. 

“We’ll reschedule for five tonight,” he said, filling the door frame completely. “Don’t be late.” 

The door clicked shut behind him and the sound of it made you collapse back onto the desktop. You laid there for a moment, leaking your combined spend and aching. The throb of him settled in your muscles and festered. But the worst part was the other ache, the pain of being without. And maybe you had been a bit avoidant. Maybe this work really was so you didn’t have to see him. Because if you saw him you’d end up fucking him—which was fine, which was good, which was great actually—but then he would leave. And you couldn’t decide which wanting was worse. The wanting before or the wanting after. 

Maybe it didn’t matter. 

You had more important things to think about anyway. Like securing the receptionist an incredibly large holiday bonus, assuming you still had a job here at the end of the day. 

Maybe that didn’t matter either. 

It might be high time you made a commitment to whatever the hell kind of mess you’d stumbled into. Kylo Ren was an enigma in the best kind of way. Maybe you should stop running from it. 

[ellana-ravenwood]

“I wish I knew how to help you” - Batsis x Batfamily

Synopsis : Everyone has tough times at some point in their lives. Bruce Wayne most definitely knows that. But when his own daughter is going through a really rough patch, he finds himself not really knowing how to fix things...

This particular subject has been requested so many times (the earliest request dating from August 2018....mmmm..), so watch me butcher it with bad writing. I thought, given how I feel lately, it was the perfect time to finally write it. I hope you will like it (runs away to hide) : 

TW : Anxiety, depression, mention of suicide. 

My Masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives. 

__________________________________________________

There hasn’t been a lot of time in his life where Bruce Wayne felt so completely lost. Of course, he would be lying if he was saying he never got confused, or if sometimes, he wasn’t quite sure what to do, what to say...

But if there was one thing he was great at, it was problem solving. 

Even in desperate situations, he could always trust his analytical and collected mind to help him out.

In fact, Bruce Wayne could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times he felt utterly lost, defenseless, and couldn't figure out a solution to his troubles. Not even a questionable one, like bottling up all of his feelings and pretending he doesn’t care while he’s screaming and dying inside. 

He recollected exactly five times of such an event occurring in his life :

The day his parents died. 

The day he realized he couldn’t save everyone. 

The day Dick came to live at the Manor, and Bruce realized he had no idea how to raise a child. 

The day Jason died. 

The day he saw Damian kill. 

And now, spilling onto another hand : 

...The day he realized he had no idea how to help his daughter, you, with her mental health struggles. 

Each time he had been completely lost, there was someone to help him. 

For his parents’ death, it was Alfred. 

For the day he realized even as Batman he would never be able to save everyone ? It was Commissioner Gordon, and his years of being a cop in a city like Gotham. 

Dick himself, and Alfred of course, quickly helped Bruce to understand what it meant to be a father. 

Tim’s arrival helped him grieve Jason. 

And all his children, from Dick to Cass, and the experience he acquired trying to raise them helped him manage Damian’s problems. It was a plus for sure, that the boy wanted to be helped.

But with you...Any attempt of his trying to breach the subject would result in you brushing his concerns off, getting frustrated, or sighing “I’m fine” and leaving to isolate yourself in your room. 

Sometimes, it felt like you really wanted to talk to him. Like you wanted to vent, and tell him what was wrong. But you always seemed to decide against it, maybe in fear of bothering him ? 

Most of the time, it felt like you were living with your anxiety in peace. Like you greeted it like a good friend. Bruce had always known you were a rather stressed individual, but you always held yourself up so well ? 

Most of the time, it felt like you were perfectly fine. How could he have known ? How could he have known you weren’t ? Ah...but maybe the signs were all there all along...

And Bruce just didn’t know how to help, when even you, didn’t seem to want the help...But maybe that was the trick ? To keep trying no matter what ?

At first, it didn’t seem to him like this would be an issue that could render him absolutely lost like this. And he hated the fact that he thought that. 

Because it stemmed from one pervasive thought that made him despise himself : “Her fight with her own mind aren’t as bad as Damian’s, Cass’s, or Jason’s trauma. Aren’t like what Dick went through. It will be easier to fix.” And maybe you felt that, maybe that’s why you wouldn’t let him help ?

Why would it be easier anyway ? 

Because you had a calmer childhood. Of course, being Batman’s daughter meant you definitely went through things most children will never experience. But compared to your siblings, you had a somewhat normal childhood. 

The biggest trauma of it being the fact your mother, Selina Kyle (author’s note : I’m not particularly talking biological child here by the way, just to make sure y’all can all identify to this. Thought I’d mention it), decided to leave you in your dad’s care and had a very little part in your upbringing up until you turned 12 or so, which is the time she came back. You never seemed to even be mad about this. It always felt like you knew your mom had her own battles to win, that she wasn’t quite ready to have a child, and you forgave her as soon as she came back into your life. 

But maybe that was the problem ? The fact Bruce always thought you were strong enough to handle things ? You always seemed to hold your own. You’d always been fiercely independent. Like you never needed help.

When Dick had fits of anger, you’d just stay quiet and withhold it. 

When Jason was sometimes overzealous, you’d just stay calm and collected. 

When Tim had massive freak outs at times because he felt he wasn’t enough, you’d just reassure him and stay grounded. 

When Cass would have nightmare at night and be so scared she couldn’t find her voice again, you’d stay up with her and make sure to soothe her back to sleep, even if it meant not sleeping yourself. 

When Damian would realize how much he missed out in life, in his childhood, and how little he knew about the real world...You’d be there, holding his hand while explaining in details why he felt the way he felt. 

Even Duke, who arguably was the “sanest” of them all, had times where things were too much for him, and you’d magically appear by his side to help him through it. 

You always seemed to be the one everyone relied on. 

The one that has it all figured out, that has it together. The one most like Bruce, able to control her emotions. But the one even better than him, because you could also help others understand how they felt. 

And that was why Bruce never really noticed your every day struggles. 

Come to think of it, the fact you were always so on point and great in your explanations as to why someone felt the way they did, probably meant you felt like them before... 

Oh god. God, Bruce hated this. Hated himself, even. 

Hated the fact that he thought your fights with your own mind weren’t as bad as what Damian or Dick went through, as bad as Cass or Jason’s traumas.  As bad as Duke witnessing what happened to his parents, because you...Well you still had both of them. And they were on good terms, now.

He hated the fact that it took you almost dying for him to realize you had a real problem too. For him to realize your apparent “I can handle my own” attitude was all a fragile facade that could break any time. 

He hated the fact that he had to witness you almost letting yourself die, to realize this...The scene kept replaying in his mind. 

A night out as vigilantes. Part of a building collapsing. You pushing a woman out of its way, but then just staring up at the crumbling wall that would crush you, not moving. And the state of daze you were in, when you found yourself in your father’s arms as he saved you in extremis from a certain death that you were clearly letting happen. 

You later said it was a mistake. It was a simple mistake. 

But Bruce, from that point and on, knew better. There had been a time, not long after his parents’ death, where he wondered what even was the point in living anymore. Where he found himself in a similar situation too, where he could save himself and yet stayed in front of the death threat. Alfred saved him at the time, gave him a good scolding which Bruce didn’t even register. 

He recognize that look in your eyes. 

Because he had the same one, many years ago, before he had a chance at having a family again. Before you, Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim, Damian...It was a look that meant : “What if I just let it happen, what if I end the pain by ending it all ?”.

And Bruce hated the fact that it took him witnessing this look in your eyes for him to finally realize you needed help. It tore his heart apart.

He hated the fact it took him so long to finally act upon it, to finally do something for you. No matter how lost he was as to where to even begin. 

And so here he was, on a calm night in Gotham, sitting on a roof and researching on the internet what can be done to help people riddled with anxiety and such. He knew you enough to know you’d never accept to go see a therapist. But maybe...maybe he could help just as good ?

He knew how he got rid of his own anxiety. 

The same way he got rid of many other things...He submitted himself to a strict training allowing him to control all of his emotions, shutting some away when needed. 

But he couldn’t even imagine making you go through the things he made himself do. Not his daughter. Not any of his children. 

There was a reason, the training he gave all of you wasn’t even 10% of what he used to do. Because he had nothing to live for except becoming strong enough to bring back justice to Gotham. Because he had nothing to look forward to except the fact that he was going to make sure no kid in that god forsaken city would go through what he went through ever again... 

He gave himself the ability to turn into a machine. To shun all feelings away. Because he had a mission. 

He would never, ever want any of his children to feel like this. Even if he managed to, in appearance, make himself feel nothing...It would always cause him tremendous pain. He knew how this felt, to force yourself to control everything. 

No. His method was most definitely not fit for his daughter. He did not want her to become like him. And so, scrolling through forums, websites and blogs, he tried to find the best way he could to help his kiddo. It seems like there was almost like a “list” of things every person suffering from anxiety went through every day...  

Wondering if your loved ones are upset with you.

“Are you mad at me ?” 

Is the text you send to your oldest brother, Dick, immediately regretting it. 

Because now, you were sure he’d find you annoying, pushy or anything of the like. Of course, Dick would never. But your mind was telling you he would. 

He hadn’t responded to your text in a day, while he would usually be very reactive, and you didn’t need more to think he hated you, now. 

Knowing there is no reason for you to feel that way. 

Knowing for Dick to be “mad” at his little siblings, it would take a lot (you weren’t even sure you’ve ever seem him mad at any of you, except maybe the times you put yourselves in danger while he’s your team leader, but then it’s more a problem of being mad at himself than really at you. 

Yet you cannot control it. You cannot. You are sure now, that he hates you. 

Your father doesn’t understand why you’re so morose that day, and why you snap at everyone. He doesn’t understand, and you don’t tell him. And Bruce just ends up thinking you’re in a bad mood and leave you alone, while you desperately want to talk. 

You want to tell him that you think Dick hates you. You want to hear him reassure you, even if technically, there is no need for reassurance. Of course your brother doesn’t hate you, he’s probably just busy, he just started his new job in Bludhaven, and moved in a new apartment and...Yes. 

Rationally, of course you knew your brother, who has always been there and never shied away from saying he cared about you and love you, doesn’t hate you. 

Yet you cannot help but think you did something wrong. You cannot help but think maybe he does. And you want to tell your dad, and have him reassure you, even if you don’t need to. 

But instead, you snap at him. Instead, you push him away. Because you couldn’t handle your dad too thinking your annoying. Of course, he would think you’re annoying, a nuisance, if you told him you think Dick hates you...because obviously he doesn’t. 

It was a vicious circle. So instead of possibly-but-probably-not-but-still-maybe be hurt, you pushed the one person you wanted close away, snapping at him and isolating yourself in your room. 

TING ! Your phone, it’s ringing ! Oh please god, please be Dick ! 

It is your brother. He answered ! 

“Of course not ! Why would you think that ?” 

You analyze every single word, and how he didn’t use an emoji, while he always does ! And the way he said “why would you think that ?”...he’s for sure mad at you now, and he thinks you’re the most obnoxious little sister that ever walked this Earth. 

But you answer : 

“Oh no reason lol. Hey wanna binge watch Gilmore Girls with me this week end ? Only you understand how a true masterpiece this show is.” 

He doesn’t reply that day, and you think about it the entire night. He doesn’t come at the patrol of course, as again, he just settled in Bludhaven. And it starts. The spiraling of overwhelming feelings, the impossibility to let go of something. 

You cannot think of anything else but sending another text to ask if he’s really not mad at you. You decide against it, because you don’t want him to think you’re annoying. Because you understand he has his own life now. Now that he moved from the Manor. 

You understand he must be busy. That he has to settle in. That he doesn’t have to be available whenever you want, and that the fact he had always been up until now proved he was the best big brother anyone could ask for. 

But you can’t help it. You think it must be you. That he’s not answering because it’s you. 

And all of a sudden, you question every relationship you have. What if none of your siblings love you, and are just polite ? What if they’re lying because you’re really the only sibling out of all of you they don’t like and they’re just too nice to...Oh god. Your dad must hate you too. 

Because you keep needing him to reassure you about stuffs. Ah yes, today you shunned him away, but sometimes, you guilt trip him so he says he cares about you. Or so he tells you nice things. 

And suddenly, one of your biggest fear, the one where you ask for too much out of the people you love is back. And you cry. You cry all night. Because you have too many mood swings. You isolate yourself too much. But you don’t know, you don’t know how to make them see your fear of not being cared for...

And so you cry. Wondering over and over again “why am I like this ????” as you think all of your loved one are upset with you, and will never want to talk to you again. 

Later in the day, Dick answers that he would love to watch GG with you, and there’s an emoji this time. Ah. So maybe he doesn’t hate you...

So many people wouldn’t even think this was a big deal, but for you...for you, it was...

Every small decision feels like it has life or death consequences. 

You want to tell them. You want to tell them that’s why  you couldn't choose what you wanted at the drive through fast enough. Why you stumbled on your words, and ended up blurting out : “Whatever Jason took !” because your taste in food was the closest to his. 

You want to tell them, that even such a small issue, in your head, took a huge place. That you rehearsed what you were going to say when it would be your turn to speak to the waiter. That you got all tangled up, and didn’t ask what you actually wanted. 

You want to tell them that sometimes, even the smallest “yes or no” question haunts you for days. That “what ifs” won’t let you alone. 

You want to tell them, but instead you take the meal you didn’t really want, and eat it in silence, listening to everyone talking and enjoying this family moment. You stay quiet, your mind focus on how clumsy, dumb and useless you are. 

Just because you couldn’t order something at the drive through. 

You stay quiet, but your mind is racing about how much you suck. How you should get out of everyone’s way. Because you can’t even order food properly. 

You feel guilty, because this is one rare family moment when you’re all together, and your siblings all have fun teasing each others, laughing and talking, while you just nod sometimes, smile, and die inside. 

Just because you couldn’t order something at the drive through. 

You think you’re absolutely insane. That you should be checked in in Arkham. You-

Bruce notices you’re quieter than usual. He notices you didn’t take your favorite burger. He wonders why, because he knows you really REALLY like that burger. Sometimes, he goes out of his way to go get you guys’ favorite food, and he knows that this burger is one of yours...

But he doesn’t dwell on it. Maybe you just wanted to change for once (which wasn’t much like you but oh well). And the fact you’re quiet ? Maybe you’re just lost in your own thoughts and day dreaming. After all, you do like to have some quiet and alone time, and this family dinner is happening on this time. 

So Bruce doesn’t say anything, even if his guts tell him something is wrong. 

Overthinking. Fearing something could go wrong.

You are in constant fear of what's going to happen if and when something happens to your dad ! Or your siblings ! What if you become homeless for some reasons ? What if you have no friends or family to return to ? What if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if...

Intrusive thoughts, they call them. And they don’t want to leave for sure. They’re persistant. They stay up until you overthink them to the point nothing makes sense anymore. To the dissociation.

And it makes your every day life a living nightmare. 

Bruce, as he reads this part of an article on the internet, about how people suffering from anxiety are in a constant state of worry, feels his heart tighten at the mere idea you are going through this. 

He knows you are. And he hates the fact it took him so long to realize because...

Not being able to control what's happening now or in the future.

Bruce could recollect so many times where, even as a child, you’d ask him questions like : “What happens after you die ?”, “What will happen to me when I get old ?” etc etc. 

At the time, of course, he dismissed it as questions every kid asks. Wondering about the world around them. He never saw how much those questions would haunt you, how much sometimes, you couldn’t let go of things you perfectly knew you had no control over... 

The signs were all there though. 

You weren’t lost in day dreams, you were lost in nightmarish scenarios about what could possibly happen in the near future. 

You were, every minute of every day, worrying about something that was currently happening, something that happened recently, or something that might happen in the next few moment, later the same day or in the future.

It was something you had to live with, and it never been just a child curiosity. As you grow up you stopped asking those questions out loud, didn’t mean they weren’t haunting you... 

Making a mistake that will result in someone judging you.

You always had to be irreproachable. 

You were a perfectionist. 

A lot of time, people passed it as : “like father, like daughter.” 

And Bruce should’ve known better...Why was he like this ? This part of him certainly didn’t stem from anything good. Yet he ignored the fact you acted exactly like him. The fact you were turning into him, on that front...

My brain is a TV and someone else has the remote.

... ... ... ...

************

Bruce had enough. He knew. He knew how you felt, and why you acted the way you did sometimes. And it was time. It was time to finally take action. 

But he couldn’t do it alone. And he wouldn’t. In fact, they’d all be so mad, if he executed this plan on his own...

Because you. You were their precious sister. 

They loved you, so much. And it would kill them, if they knew you really meant it, when you asked if they were mad at you. If they hated you. If they...

They always think you’re joking, or that you’re tired or something. That you have “mood swings”. 

You don’t. 

For you, all those issues are very real. But they don’t understand, because you’re always there to catch them, and they never expected you needed to be caught. 

So when their father expose to them what he thinks is going on with them, and when they realize he’s right...

They feel crushed. 

How ? How could they not notice their beloved sister was suffering so much ? 

And so that day, they all swear that they are going to do everything in their power to help you. No matter what. 

They will never give up on you. 

No matter what..

************

“Why am I like this ? Why am I like this ? Why am I like this ?” You repeat to yourself, over and over again, as you feel your heart beat like crazy while it has no reason to. 

While your chest hurt, and you feel the weight of anxiety on your shoulder, without even knowing why. 

You keep telling yourself you suck, you keep being too harsh on yourself, and oh, oh if you only knew that your entire family right now, was plotting to help you feel better. 

Unfortunately...

************

Dick’s antics soothe you for a bit, but as soon as he’s gone your heart goes wild again, refusing to stop, and your mind repeats bad thoughts to you. 

The next day, Dick planned the PERFECT sister/brother day. Planning things to spend time with you, just like when you were little and it was just you and him. 

It’s a perfect day indeed. Everything makes you forget your anxiety. You smile, for the first time in months since this weird extreme anxious state started. 

Dick always knew how to make you laugh, and how to tease you just enough so that you wanted to show him what you were made of !

But once you’re home...

And Dick can try, try and try again, but no matter his effort, he can only relieve your pain when he’s around, and unfortunately, he isn’t always around. 

************

Jason is patient, with you. 

He listens, he empathizes and does not patronizes. 

He’s there when you need him. He celebrates every small victory from you (like finally being able to order the burger you want). He encourages you, gives you all the hope he can. And it means a lot, coming from him. 

Because Jason suffered a lot. He went through a lot. His death, and his traumatic return...

He tries to keep you hopeful. He is patient. Available. But he does things too well. You’re afraid he spends too much time with you, and forgets his own mental health. You know he loves to meditate, but haven’t seen him do it in ages. 

Because he’s also keeping an eye on you. Your father probably told him the crumbling building debacle...And now he makes sure you’re ok. 

But to the detriment of his own mental well being ?

You feel like you’re weighting him down. And slowly, he notices you’re avoiding him. And he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to push you, or force you to do anything...

************

It has always been easy, to talk to Tim. 

Your brother is the only one in the family that did not become a Robin for personal reasons. Sure, he was struck with tragedy later in life (or he would never be your brother now...), but at the core of it...He was just a kid who wanted to help. 

He was a fan of Batman, who really REALLY wanted to make himself useful. He became Robin, not because of any personal motivation but because he was just that selfless. 

And so, it has always been easy to talk to Tim. 

Which is why he’s surprised, when he realizes you’ve never told him about your anxiety. About your depressed thoughts. You vent a lot to him, but about small things. About things you can both laugh about. 

It has always been easy to talk to Tim, and the fact you cannot address your anxiety problems tells him all the extent of it. 

Tells him you’re truly suffering, and that he needs to get better. 

To become an even better listener, for you. And as you witness him, just like Jason, sort of forgetting about his own well being, you cannot help but feel even worst...

They mean well. They mean so well. But you cannot stand them putting their own health on the line just for you. After all, you’re just a loser who doesn’t deserve any of those wonderful brothers and sister...

************

Duke tries to help you “temper your thoughts”. 

His mom used to do that to him, as a child. He was always rather active, suffering from ADHD and such. In a lot of ways, his trouble resembled the ones you had with anxiety. 

And he thought that maybe, helping you tempering your thoughts would be the best. 

What does that even mean ? Well. Whenever he felt like you were anxious about something, scared or stressed, he would ask you if you were alright up until you’d finally tell him what was making you anxious. 

And then he’d ask you the series of question his mom asked : “What’s the worst that can happen ? What’s the best that can happen ? What’s most realistic, or likely ?”...At first you didn’t really understand the point. 

But soon enough, you got it. This was helping you turning your intrusive thoughts against themselves. Helping you see the good sides of things. 

Unfortunately, just like with Dick’s technique of making you laugh and such, when Duke wasn’t around to remind you to consider the best, worst and most likely option...you forgot that trick. 

************

"Let’s go to a quieter place, or go for a walk.” 

Cassandra tells you, whenever she sees you get overwhelmed by something. And it works. It does. 

You two just walk in silence, hand in hand. 

Your sister’s presence reassuring, and warm. Her care for you sipping out of her very being, from her hand to yours. 

“Let’s go to a quieter place, or for a walk.” 

You go outside, and you don’t speak. She’s just here for you. 

But she can’t always be around, can she ? She can’t always just magically appear next to you in moments of need, and say :

“Let’s go to a quieter place, or for a walk.” 

But when she can. She does. 

She knows when you get overwhelmed by sounds, by smells, by anything. And she brings you to places that makes you feel at peace. 

Cassandra was never one to speak a lot, but she always understood.

************

Damian can’t help but feel sad that he, and the rest of the family, aren’t enough for you to feel better. That they can’t win against your depression and anxiety, no matter how hard they try. 

And Damian. Oh Damian tries. 

He makes sure you have everything you need. He makes sure to be there when it feels like you’re not feeling well, he follows you like a shadow and...

You both get more and more frustrated. 

Damian puts a lot of effort into making you feel better, and you keep snapping at him, or pushing him away. 

It’s because YOU’RE the big sister. YOU’RE the one who’s supposed to take care of him. But it seems like lately, Damian is obsessed with your well being, and he doesn’t even let you tuck him in anymore...He’s the one that comes tuck you in. 

And deep down, you feel like it’s exactly what you need. You want to let your baby brother take care of you. And his worries are so sweet, and makes you feel all warm inside by how adorable this kid can be. How far he came back from. 

Deep down. 

But you’re not ready to admit you need help. Especially not from your 11 years old brother. No. He’s the one that needs the cuddles and the reassuring words. He’s the one that had it way tougher than you. And him taking care of you, although it feels nice, doesn’t feel right. 

And it hurts, to see your little brother get sad because he can’t help you like he wants to. Because he thinks he’s not enough for you, and that’s why you’re feeling the way you are...

************

Nothing goes how they think it was going to go. 

You do not get better right away. It doesn’t even feel like you’re getting better at all. On the contrary. 

It feels like you push them away even more, that you become even more irritable, that...that...that you go further and further away from them. 

And they don’t understand. 

Even you, don’t understand. 

Why do you feel so bad ? So Sad ? So anxious all the time ? 

You don’t know. You don’t know. You don’t know. 

“Why am I like this ? Why am I like this ? Why am I like this ?!” 

You repeat this to yourself every day, without being able to find an answer. 

And Bruce...Oh, your father came to the conclusion that the last and only option is that you need to go to therapy, you need professional help. 

************

“What ? Why ? I’m fine dad !” 

You say, anger pointing in your voice, as he tells you that. 

“No you’re not, (Y/N). We can all see it. And there’s so much we can do we...I...”

There’s a silence. A heavy one. And it breaks Bruce’s heart, to see tears welling up at the corner of your eyes : 

“It’s fine. I get it. I’m too much, aren’t I ? That’s why right ? I ruin you guys’ life ? You know, I noticed a shift not long ago. I know you’re trying to make me feel better, and I know you all get frustrated because you can’t. I swear I try dad. I swear I try to not get those bad thoughts. To not think you don’t love me, for whatever reason. To not think like I’m a burden. I swear I try to not be anxious. I try to not worry, about every little thing. I try so hard ok ?! But it doesn’t work ! And I know it’s wearing all of you down. I know it. But...I’m...It’ll be fine ! IT’LL BE FINE !!” 

You scream those last few words, and a silence installs itself between you and your father. 

Bruce just looks at you, and you cannot stand the pained look in his eyes. You never wanted your burden to transfer on your family like that...why ? Why did you get worst and made them notice you weren’t ok ? Why ? 

Maybe it would’ve been better, if your dad didn’t see you about to get crush by this building, and hadn’t saved you. They’d have a-

“I won’t stop trying.” 

Your father’s voice cuts your terrible thought, and you look up at him. He walked slowly to you, carefully, as if afraid to scare you. As if afraid you’re gonna “tt” him, and run to lock yourself in your room. 

But for some reason, you don’t move. And you let him come close. 

He brushes a few fingers on your cheek, as he used to when you were a child and unable to sleep. Him softly humming to you and brushing your cheeks slowly always made you fall right asleep...

“Until you feel better. And I will tell you over and over again that I love you and that I am here for you, if it’s what you need. I am your dad. I am here for you.” 

And he understands your pain oh too well. It’s not because he managed to be able to shut his own mental health problems out, that he never feels them. 

You are your father’s daughter. Unfortunately in that case. 

Oh. Oh he wishes he could take on your pain. He could take on his shoulders your entire burden. He wishes it was only him, that felt that way. That you would never, ever feel anxiety, or depression again. 

He knows it is not that easy. He understands. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Something breaks inside you. Something that was on the verge of shattering for years, but snapped only now. 

“I just...I just wish I could help you. I just wish I knew how. I am trying too, (Y/N). And I won’t give up on you. No matter what you think. I will never give up on you.” 

Those words. Those were so simple. Yet what you needed to hear for so long.  

Because no matter your siblings’ effort, or Alfred’s, or your dad’s. Your friends at the Young Justice. Anyone you ever cared for...You always were afraid that one day, you’d be too much for them. 

That one day, all your mood swings, pushing them away, venting and complaining often...would be too much. And that they’d leave you. 

Alone forever. 

“I’m not giving up on you.” 

Coming from your dad. You knew he said the truth. You knew. 

There’s a short silence. You look at your father, and even Queen Anxiety couldn’t make you think he wasn’t being genuine. 

“You...That’s...I...”

Getting chocked up, you weren’t able to say anything, but he understood. 

And he was there to catch you. You went right into his arms, and he held you tight, trying to convey to you all the unconditional love he has and will always have for you, no matter what. 

No matter how much you push him away, how broken you get, how much you hate yourself and think you don’t deserve any kind of love...he’d always, ALWAYS love you. And would never give up. 

“I’m here. I’m here. I will always be here.” 

His voice was soothing. It has always been soothing. And he was there. 

He was there. 

“Thank you...”

You manage to whimper out, as he holds you against his heart. 

And, finding it hard to reign his own emotions in (his children have always been the only ones who could cross all his walls and find the vulnerable Bruce who feels everything), Bruce repeated as much as you needed to hear that he was here. 

He would always be here for you. 

Always..

And the path to your recovery was now open.

__________________________________________________

Here we are. I am sorry if this is sort of...bluargh. Or not what you wanted. But I do hope you liked it. Haha I feel like this story is so ridiculous...I guess this feeling is in the theme eh..........Maybe it’s also because as usual, I wrote very late into the night, and sleep deprivation always make me feel like I do stupid things. Write terrible stuffs. 

Reblogs and feedbacks are always welcomed ?

Haha. Convincing. 

See you soon with another story, much lighter than this one for sure haha... 

[secretkeeper13]

Secure

This fic is inspired by and a continuation of sorts to my Christmas fic, Wish. The fic contains some of my head-canon about what happened to Ginny in the Chamber before Harry arrived. In an abundance of caution, please note a potential TW for verbal abuse, similar to Ron and the locket Riddle in DH (but there is no physical or sexual abuse of any kind).

Also, this is the first time I’ve written full out smut without a fade to black, which was both difficult and intimidating! Thank you to @thedistantdusk for reading it and for your encouragement :)  

Read the first part below, or the whole fic on Ao3.

i.

The invitation surprised her a bit. They’d been sitting in the garden after her birthday dinner, still at the table, sipping their drinks and watching the sunset. The sky was ablaze with swirls of burnished red and bright orange, casting a warm glow across the garden. Harry was next to her, his arm draped across the back of her chair, his hand resting on her shoulder, her hand resting on the top of his thigh. Hermione was talking to them from across the table about the short holiday she and Ron were taking with her parents to the Lakes over the weekend.

“They’re really looking forward to it. I think they missed England this past year. And I wanted to do something with them before we go back to Hogwarts in a few weeks.”

At the mention of Hogwarts, Ginny felt a flare of anxiety. It’s still weeks away, she told herself firmly, trying to ignore the pit that had developed in her stomach.

“It’ll be nice to get away for a bit,” Harry said to Hermione, breaking Ginny from her thoughts. She could detect a hint of wistfulness in his tone. She knew how hard he’d been working lately with the Death Eater trials. He’d had to testify in nearly all of them. She gave his leg a slight squeeze with her hand, and he smiled at her.

“‘Arry and Ginny, you should come visit us at ‘ze cottage this weekend.”

Surprised, she looked up at Fleur, who was sitting next to Hermione.

“The weather has been beautiful, and a weekend by the sea would do nicely for you both, I think,” Fleur continued, confidence radiating from her tone, as always.

Ginny looked at Harry to see his reaction to the invitation. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulder almost imperceptibly, which she understood to mean why not?

“Thank you, Fleur; we’d like that. I’ll let Mum and Dad know.”

“Let me know what?” Her mother appeared behind Fleur as suddenly as if she’d apparated.

“Fleur invited Harry and I to stay with them at the cottage this weekend, Mum.”  

“Oh how lovely, dear. It’ll be beautiful there this time of year.”

She turned to Harry as her Mum bustled back off to the kitchen with an empty platter.  “Pack your trunks then, yeah?”

Three days later, they stood at the hearth in the Burrow, Harry holding their overnight bags, and Ginny holding a tin of biscuits she’d made with Mum earlier.

“Enjoy yourselves now,” her Mum said, hugging them both.

Ginny stepped into the green flames and re-emerged into the whitewashed walls of the sitting room of Shell Cottage, Harry following at her heels. She cast cleansing charms to remove the soot as Fleur and Bill entered from the kitchen.

Fleur embraced them both, kissing them on each cheek. Ginny hugged Bill and handed him the tin of biscuits.

“It’s nice being able to use magic out of school now, isn’t it?” Bill said, his arm still around Ginny.

“Well, it’s nice to be able to do it legally at least,” Ginny replied with a wink.

Bill laughed. “Not much for rules in this family, are we?”

“No,” Harry chimed in. “But I suppose that’s why I get on so well with you lot.” Bill chuckled and ruffled Ginny’s hair.

“Let me take you upstairs so you can put away your things,” Fleur said, ushering them to the narrow stairwell as Bill took the biscuits into the kitchen.

They climbed the steep stairs until they reached the landing. Fleur opened the furthest door to the right, revealing a small room with whitewashed walls and a window that looked out over the cliff onto the sea. The window was framed by airy light blue drapes. A double bed with a fluffy, white duvet was in the middle of the wall next to the window.

“I think you will be comfortable in ‘zis room. The view is very nice.” Fleur said holding the door open for them.

I take back every time I called her Phlegm, Ginny thought, surprised and overjoyed at the prospect of getting to sleep in the same room as Harry for the weekend without the usual sneaking around.

Harry looked over at her with a confused expression, clearly unsure as to whether they were meant to stay in the room together.

“Thank you Fleur, this is lovely. Harry, can you bring in the bags please,” Ginny said, trying to give Harry a hint.

Harry stood in the doorway, still looking puzzled. “Erm, are we both staying in this room?”

Fleur raised her eyebrow. “Unless you would prefer separate rooms?”

Ginny flashed Harry a look that indicated he’d better not be a noble idiot by passing up a weekend together in a shared bedroom.

“Oh, erm, no, I wouldn’t… I just wanted to make sure it was alright with you and Bill if we stay in the same.”

“You are both of age now, non? Don’t worry about Bill. He owes Ginny a favor anyhow.” Fleur smiled at her. “I did not forget ‘zat Christmas morning Ginny. What you did was very kind.”

Ginny felt slightly guilty, as she’d gotten five galleons from Bill in exchange for letting him and Fleur have a private moment in her room Christmas morning before last, but she certainly wasn’t going to mention that to Fleur now.

“I must go finish dinner,” Fleur said. “Come downstairs when you ‘ave unpacked.” She left the room and shut the door.

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry, who still looked a bit stunned. “This is a nice surprise, isn’t it?” she murmured into his chest. “For a moment, I thought your stupid nobility was going to ruin it.”

Harry smiled. “It’s got limits. A weekend in a room alone with you....” he said wryly, and then a look of nervousness crossed his face. “But I hope it won’t be awkward with Bill. I don’t want to throw it in your family’s face that we’re… you know.”

Ginny snorted. He was adorably thick sometimes. “Harry, you do realize everyone in the family probably knows we’re shagging, right?”

“What?” Harry said, looking panicked. “We’ve been so careful. They’ve never caught either of us out of bed.”

“It doesn’t exactly take loads of N.E.W.T.s to figure it out, love. We told them we got together my fifth year, we’ve been inseparable since the war ended, they all know about your near-death experience-“

“Actual death experience,” he interrupted.

“Please don’t remind me. And to top it all off, you’re smiling and looking far too pleased with yourself most mornings. I don’t know if you remember, but you used to look like this,” she screwed up her face into what she thought was a spot-on impression of sulking, broody Harry.

He laughed. “Well, I’ve tried to be discreet, at least.”

“And we have, I’m just telling you, they probably all know.”

He sighed. “Well, hopefully it’s not too awkward with Bill.”

“It’ll be fine. And like Fleur said, Bill owes me one. Let’s go to dinner.”  

They had a pleasant dinner. Ginny, somewhat apprehensively, tried the Bouillabaisse that Fleur made, but found that she actually quite liked it. Bill and Fleur told them about their trip to France to visit Fleur’s family, and then the conversation turned to Harry’s first Auror mission, which was starting in a few weeks.

At the mention of summer’s end, a pit formed in Ginny’s stomach, and her mind wandered as Harry spoke. She dreaded leaving him to return to Hogwarts. Last year was miserable, of course, and for reasons far worse than just missing Harry. She tried to tell herself it would be easier this year- they could write to each other, he could visit her on Hogsmeade weekends, and they’d see each other over Christmas- but it didn’t change the fact that they’d be apart again. And this time, Harry would be working at the Ministry, surrounded by throngs of witches who would undoubtedly throw themselves at him, and he would no longer be distracted by fighting a homicidal maniac who wanted to kill him. Meanwhile, she’d be a schoolgirl stuck at Hogwarts- little Ginny, always the youngest- always the one left behind.

She knew that Harry loved her. She knew that he would never mess her about. But she couldn’t help the fears that crept in the corners of her mind- the fear that another year away from each other would be too difficult, the fear that being apart would result in growing apart. And her darkest fear of all, the one that hid and scuttled in the most shadowed corner of her mind, planted years ago by a silky-voiced stranger who she thought was her friend, was that Harry would realize that in his new, grown-up life, he could do anything he wanted, have any witch he wanted, and decide that he didn’t want her.

“What do you think, Gin?” Harry’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Oh um...” She flushed. “What were you saying? I’m sorry, I got distracted by the view.” She motioned to the window by the sink, which looked out over the sea.

Harry grinned at her. “I was saying I’d like to try to go down to the beach tomorrow at low tide.”

She smiled back. “I’d like that.”

They finished dinner and then went into the sitting room. Bill poured them wine, and Fleur brought out a tray of cheeses and the biscuits Mum had made. They ate and drank as they chatted and listened to the wireless. At some point, Bill produced an Exploding Snap deck, and they took turns playing against one another, laughing at the explosions and goading the loser to finish their drink.

Some time later, she sat cross legged on the rug next to the hearth, midway through a game of Exploding Snap with Harry, feeling slightly tipsy and pleasantly warm from the combination of the heat from the fire and the wine, when Bill approached and knelt down next to them on the rug.

“Alright, you two?”

“Fine thanks, just kicking Harry’s arse.” Bill chuckled as Harry shook his head playfully.

“We’re going to head up to bed. The windows are charmed so you can leave them open but nothing can get inside, so no need to worry there. Knock on our door if you need anything, alright?”

“Thanks Bill. Goodnight,” Harry replied.

“Night,” Ginny said, as she kissed Bill on the cheek.

When he was gone, Ginny looked at Harry from over the cards. “Your move, Potter.”

He smirked at her. “Potter now, is it?”

“I take thrashing you at Exploding Snap seriously, what can I say?”

She gazed at him over the cards. The rippling flames from the firelight reflected in his eyes, which were darker than usual.

“I think I should make my next move upstairs,” he said, his voice low, desire evident in his tone. Her stomach fluttered, and she bit her bottom lip.  With a swish of her wand, she sent the cards flying neatly back into the box. With a flick of his, he extinguished the fire.

They climbed the stairs to their room, being careful to tread quietly on the landing. The second the door closed behind them, she heard the click of the locking charm.

“Muffliato?” she reminded him.

“Already done,” he said.

He leaned down and crashed his lips to hers, kissing her passionately, one hand winding into her hair, the other caressing low on her back. He slowly walked her backward until her legs reached the bed, and she lay back, pulling him towards her.

She reached for the hem of his shirt, but he held her wrist to still her hand. “Wait,” he said.

She looked at him quizzically, one brow raised, unsure as to why he was stopping her. His cheeks flushed. “It’s just, erm, we’ve got the night…”

She understood him perfectly. “We’ve never had all night together before, have we?”

He leaned down and kissed her neck, then moved his lips to the shell of her ear and whispered, “No. And I’d planned on taking my time.”

Read parts ii and iii (NSFW) on Ao3.

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

Destiny Calling: Chapter Six

You watched Boromir with Merry and Pippin, him teaching them to fight. You bit into the Lembas bread smiling. "Two, Three, Four, Five. Good, very good." Boromir instructed the two spirited hobbits. "Move your feet." Aragorn said making you chuckle. "That’s good, Merry." You said, Merry slightly out of breath. "Thanks!" Merry said. You smiled at Pippin as he picked up his blade. Pippin seemed to be the hobbit closest to you, for whatever reason. Sam though, seemed to enjoy your company as well. Well actually, all of the hobbits seemed to like you and Boromir. Gimli though, was about the only one in the fellowship who disliked having you, for whatever reason. "Faster" Boromir instructed.

"Anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they’re not, I’d say we were taking the long way round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome." Gimli suggested. You tensed up, being aware that the mines of Moria were no longer safe... It was a very dangerous passage. "No Gimli, I would not take the roads through Moria unless I had no other choice." Gandalf said. "Come on. Good." Boromir said to Pippin. He accidentally hit his hand, halting his action. "Are you alright?" you asked. "GET HIM!" Merry yelled. "FOR THE SHIRE!" Pippin yelled before the two hobbits tackled Boromir. You laughed and Aragorn smiled, looking at you.

You felt something, Legolas feeling that same sensation. The feeling of being watched. You stood up, walking over to the edge of the mountain and looking. "What is that?" Sam asked. "Nothing, just a whiff of cloud." Gimli dismissed. "It’s moving fast…against the wind." Boromir observed. "Crebain from Dunland!" You gasped. "HIDE." Aragorn said. "Merry! Frodo!" Boromir called, them hiding with him. You all took cover, out of sight of the spies.

"Spies of Saruman! The passage south is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras." Gandalf said after you all came out from your hiding spots. And so you did, taking the treacherous mountain path. You walked through the snow, having trouble fighting the winds. Frodo fell, rolling back and you turned. "Frodo!" you yelled, rushing over. You helped him lean up, Frodo patting his chest down, looking for the ring. You looked around before seeing Boromir lifted the chain and held it up. He looked at the ring, seeming very mesmerized by it. "Boromir." Aragorn called. "It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing… such a little thing." he muttered, looking at it. "Boromir, give the ring to Frodo." Aragorn said, watching him. He seemed to snap out of his gaze, looking at Frodo and handing it to him. "As you wish. I care not." He said.

He seemed to not notice how intensely he seemed to be so fixated on the ring or how you and Aragorn both were about to reach for your swords. He ruffled Frodo's hair before walking with the group. You and Aragorn exchanged a look before walking. You all attempted to walk through the pass, everyone with the exception of you and Legolas struggling to walk in the snow. You and Legolas both stopped, hearing a voice. "There is a fell voice on the air." Legolas said. "Its Saruman!" Gandalf yelled. Snow fell, barely missing the group by inches. "He’s trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" Aragorn yelled. "No!" Gandalf responded, trying to press on. "We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!" Boromir suggested. "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn yelled, trying to be heard over the winds. "If we cannot pass over a mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria." Gimli said. You looked to Gandalf, exchanging a look. "Let the Ring Bearer decide." Gandalf said. You looked over at Frodo. "We will go through the mines.." He said. That was the last place you wanted to go.

You kept your thoughts to yourself, walking with the group before stopping. Boromir turned and you stumbled, gripping your head as you fell. Boromir ran over, kneeling to you. "Are you alright Y/n?" He asked. You kept seeing flashes, flashes of a battle. Gandalf falling, some creature made of fire falling with him. "Y/n, are you alright?" Boromir repeated. You looked over at Gandalf. You cannot stop destiny. You knew that. There were plenty of stories that existed that proved that. You slowly stood up. "Yes... I'm fine, sorry for worrying you." you whispered. "What was your vision?" Legolas asked. "I'm not entirely sure." You admitted.

Frodo accidentally slid his foot in the water, you pulling him back. He nodded as a thank you before you both walked over. "Now, let’s see. Ithildin -- it mirrors only starlight and moonlight." Gandalf said, standing in front of the doors. "It reads 'The doors of Durin - Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter.'" Gandalf read aloud. You rose a brow, looking at it. "Edhellen edro hi ammen! (Gate of the Elves open now for me!)" Gandalf said. Silence. No doors opening. Nothing. You looked at Gandalf confused. "Eldarinwa a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa! (Gate of Elves listen to my word, Threshold of Dwarves!)" He said. Again... Nothing. You sighed and walked over to Sam and Aragorn." The mines are no place for a pony, even one so brave as Bill." Aragorn said to Sam, taking his reins off. The horse walked off and Sam seemed sad to let it go. "Don't worry Sam, he knows the way home." You said, putting a hand on his shoulder as reassurance. Sam smiled at you. "Can you speak with animals too or is it just nature?" Sam asked curiously. You chuckled. "Very few of us can communicate with animals but there are some who can. I sadly am not one of them." You said. "Interesting." Sam said, waiting for you to say more. You chuckled, sitting on a rock and patting it to indicate he should sit with you as you discussed your abilities. Aragorn smiled before hearing splashes.

Merry and Pippin were skipping stones, Aragorn stopping them. "Do not disturb the water." He said. "Oh, it’s useless!" Gandalf grunted in frustration. Frodo stood up, walking to the door and looking at it. "It’s a riddle. Speak 'friend' and enter. What’s the Elvish word for friend?" Frodo asked you. "Mellon." You answered. The doors opened and you jumped before smiling. "Your mind is nearly as sharp as your blade Frodo." you said with a chuckle. He smiled before Gimli spoke. "Soon master elf you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine. A mine!" Gimli walked into the area and you kept close to Aragorn, listening to the stones within the walls. You frowned and looked at the area. "What's wrong?" Boromir asked. "This is no mine... This is a tomb." you said, everyone looking at you. Gimli looked down, seeing skeletal remains of dwarves. "NO!" Gimli gasped. Legolas picked up an arrow from one of the corpses before tossing it. "Goblins." He said. "We make for the Gap of Rohan, we never should've come here." Boromir said, turning back. The four hobbits stepped back, something in the water behind you stirring. "Get out of here, now!" Boromir said.

Something snatched Frodo's foot, dragging him towards the water. You drew your two swords, Aragorn standing next to you. Sam slammed his sword into the Watcher, forcing it to drop Frodo. It seemed to sink back into the water before the Watcher slammed the other hobbits back, grabbing Frodo again. You leapt forward, holding your blades close to you as you dodged strategically through the Watcher's attacks. Aragorn kept close, countering any attacks directed at you. You and Boromir struck, the main tentacle, forcing it to drop Frodo. You caught him, running to shore with Aragorn, Frodo and Boromir. "Into the Mines!" Gandalf yelled. "Legolas! Aim for his eye! Come on!" Boromir called. Legolas shot an arrow into the Watcher's eye, all of you ran into the mines, slamming the door before a tentacle could grab you. You fell, Aragorn kneeling and holding you close. "Are you alright?" He asked. "Yes, I'm fine. Tripped trying to run from that thing." you breathed. Gandalf lit up his staff, everyone looked up.

"We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world." Gandalf warned. You got up, sheathing your swords. "Quietly now. It’s a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed." Gandalf said as you all walked.

The journey seemed very dangerous, Aragorn watching you carefully. He was definitely anxious about any visions you may have considering you had a tendency to fall or stumble. You were on a cliffside, one slip and you could die. Anxiety left him though, when you all stepped out into what appeared to be a room. "I have no memory of this place." Gandalf muttered staring at three different passages. You all ended up sitting around, waiting for Gandalf to remember the way. You felt the sensation of feeling watched again. You paused before turning. Two large eyes watched you. You whispered a question. "What watches us?" So quiet even Aragorn didn't hear. "Gollum" was the answer. You recognized the name.

"Aragorn... The prisoner you took to Mirkwood for questioning. What was its name again?" You asked. He looked at you as you seemed to stare at something. "Gollum. Why?" He asked. "Its here." you said, looking at the creature on a rock. He was watching Frodo with wide eyes. Aragorn stood up, ready to fight but you stopped him. "Do not attack anything here, unless it attacks first." you muttered. He nodded, sitting back down but watching the creature with caution.

You all sat around again once Gollum went out of sight, speaking amongst the group. Aragorn smoked his pipe and you rolled your eyes. "That cannot be good for you." You muttered. "Trying to keep me healthy?" He asked, a grin on his face. You chuckled. "Excuse me if I want you to live a long prosperous life." you said. Gimli rose a brow but said nothing. "If you can speak to nature, why haven't you asked for a way forward?" Boromir asked curiously. "I don't know any routes through here or what's on the other side. I have to be able to ask a question like 'Where is the way to Gondor'. I cannot ask questions like 'Where's the quickest way out' that would probably put us in a dangerous place. Nature is very literal." you explained. Boromir nodded. Your logic seemed very sound and Boromir decided not to press you any further.

"What good are your abilities if you can't provide basic information?" Gimli asked. You looked over. "I can sense danger master Gimli." You said. "As can the other elf." He muttered. You rose a brow looking at him. "I'm sorry, do you have a problem with my presence?" You asked. "what good have you done for this group? You've just been standing next to master Aragorn or with Gandalf." Gimli huffed. "I've been trying to map a safe route for us master Gimli." You said, keeping your cool. Aragorn looked at the dwarf, his eyes warning him that he was treading on thin ice. Gimli sighed. "I just don't see the point in two elves being here." He huffed. "Yet you don't seem to have as strong of an opinion over master Legolas." Pippin noted. "Oh that's ridiculous, I hate them both!" He huffed. You blinked, as did Legolas. "So that's it then? You hate us?" You asked. "Yes." He huffed. "so you know nothing of me yet you choose to hate me?" You asked. "It doesn't matter, you elves all think the same. You're bound to look down on everything anyway!" He said. "All have you know, I don't! I actually agree with some of your opinions." You said. "I have already heard your tale of being raised by that so called 'King Thranduil'! You probably support him-" "He's an ass." You said with no hesitation. Everyone turned to you. "We're no longer in Rivendell so I will speak freely. Thranduil rules with the ego the size of mount doom itself. When I lived in Mirkwood I did not do so willingly and I often felt like a prisoner" you huffed. Boromir rose a brow. "Why were you sent to Mirkwood?" He asked.

You sighed, looking down. "When I was ten I had an experience that should've killed me. It was a troll. Wandered off its path I suppose but I nearly died. My mother was so... Tired... She was exposed to torture years after I was born and she never recovered... She sailed off to the undying lands after me being sent away to Mirkwood." You muttered. Legolas put a soothing hand on your shoulder. He knew you blamed yourself for your mother's choosing to die. It wasn't true, she had made her mind up a long time before you but she stayed because of you. When Elrond wanted to move you away to somewhere safer that was her sign. Her moment to leave. Did it pain Celebrián to leave? By the Valar, yes. Leaving her sons, her daughters and her husband was painful. But living with mental and physical scars that wouldn't leave, staying in a forest that once provided comfort but now provided nightmares was too much.

Gimli felt a ting of guilt. He opened his mouth but closed it. "Was your mother a good woman?" Gimli finally asked. You looked up at him. "She was the kindest woman I knew." You admitted, recalling the gentleness of your mother. You may have been merely ten when she left but she certainly would be something you wouldn't forget. Aragorn had heard you speak of her on occasion, knowing that the necklace you wore was actually your mother's rather than your own. You would fidget with it when you were deep in thought, it being a habit you picked up from your mother as well. Gimli looked at you with a sigh. "I seemed to have misjudged the lass. But I'm still uneasy around the lad." Gimli said. You looked at Legolas confused. "Why?" You asked. "The man steps too quiet, it's not natural." Gimli said. Sam smiled and you laughed, Pippin chuckling with you.

"Oh! It’s that way." Gandalf said, getting up. You stood up, stretching as you did. "He’s remembered!" Merry said happily. "No, but the air doesn’t smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose." Gandalf said making you smile.

You all went through the passage, it being more open than the last. You were surrounded by stone, you could feel it, hear it even. You just couldn't see it. "Let me risk a little more light." Gandalf again, used his staff to light the way, revealing a large hall with stone pillars. You stared in awe at your surroundings. "I take it this is what you meant as a 'royal welcome'?" You asked Gimli. He grunted in response making you sigh. "Behold the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf." Gandalf said. "Now there’s an eye opener and no mistake." Sam said. More walking ensued as you stepped forward.

Gimli saw a ray of sunlight in a room, running to it. He expected a warm welcome, perhaps a surprise from one of his relatives. Instead, he was met with a crypt. "No." He whispered. He dropped his axe, falling to his knees in front of the crypt. You ran in stopping at the sight of the dead scattered through the room. "'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.' He is dead then. Its as I feared." Gandalf muttered as Gimli grieved. Gandalf handed you his staff, you taking it as he kneeled to one of the corpses and lifted a book. Pippin stepped out of his way, looking at a cobweb filled skeleton. "They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep." Gandalf read. He turned the page. "We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out…They are coming." He read aloud. Pippin, in a moment of dumb curiosity, poked the skull of the skeleton, knocking it into the well along with a bucket.

Everyone froze, not daring to make a single sound as the skeleton and bucket clattered, echoing through the caverns. Pippin winced and you swallowed, Aragorn pulling you closer to him. After a few moments of silence you all relaxed. "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Gandalf snapped. You frowned, hearing drums and noticing Frodo's sword. "Frodo!" Sam gasped. "Orcs." you breathed. Boromir looked out, arrows missing his face by mere inches. "Get back! Stay close to Gandalf!" Aragorn told the hobbits. He dropped the torch he was holding, assisting Boromir in closing the doors. You heard something that made your heart drop. "They have a cave troll." Boromir said, exasperated by the forces to come. Legolas scrambled for weapons to help blockade the door, you helping him. "Aarrgghhh!!! Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria that still draws breath!" Gimli shouted. They began to break through, Aragorn and Legolas armed with bows, ready to fire.

You lifted a bow from one of the corpses, finding arrows and aiming. "You can use a bow too?" Sam asked. "I had a great trainer." you muttered. "Thank you." Legolas said as you fired at one of the orcs attempting to break through. It clearly hit your target seeing as it howled in pain. "Beautiful face and a good shot, by the valor do you get any better?" Aragorn muttered making you smirk. You fired another arrow before they broke through, tossing the old bow aside and drawing your blades.

Boromir fought, seeing Aragorn protect you. He noticed what everyone seemed to ignore. You were Aragorn's sword, he was your shield. You cut down an orc next to Boromir before hearing the cave troll. "shit." you breathed, Aragorn standing near you. Legolas fired an arrow at it, provoking it even more. Sam narrowly dodged an attack, sliding under it and running out behind it. "THE CHAIN!" You said, the men grabbing the troll's chain and yanking it back before it could attack Sam. It swung, hitting Boromir and slamming him against a wall. Boromir looked up to see an orc ready to kill but watched as someone decapated it from behind. He looked up to see you, pulling him up. "Are you alright?" you asked. He nodded before you ran back into battle. Gimli threw an axe at the troll, jumping off of the tomb before it geared up to strike again, this time Legolas being the one to intervene. The troll swung its chain at Legolas, him ducking and narrowly missing it before it got caught around a column. He ran up the chain, firing an arrow through its head before jumping back down.

Sam slammed a frying pan into the side of an orc's head before three of the hobbits shouted, dodging an attack from the troll. "Frodo!" Aragorn yelled, his eyes surveying the battlegrounds for the young hobbit. You sprinted, seeing him cornered by the troll. Aragorn was slammed into the side of a wall, him watching as Frodo struggled. "ARAGORN!" Frodo called. Well, Aragorn was the saving grace Frodo was expecting. You were the saving grace he got, stabbing the troll with a spear. You noticed the anger in the troll's eyes. "...Fuck." you gasped before you were launched, hitting a wall and being knocked into a stunned state. You could hear the battles raging around you, yet you could not bring yourself to open your eyes.

Aragorn sprinted, trying to make it to you. Frodo defended you, best he could before the troll stabbed a spear through his chest. Frodo froze, letting out a pained gasp before Merry and Pippin tag teamed the troll, jumping on its back and stabbing it. Gimli and Gandalf both attacked, Legolas dealing the final blow. It finally fell, knocking Pippin off as you leaned up. You winced, looking over to see Frodo lying down. No...

You crawled over, the group rushing over as Aragorn sprinted past them, kneeling next to you. You pulled up Frodo, raising a brow as he was still alive. You felt Aragorn put a hand on your shoulder as he watched Frodo take a breath. He coughed and Sam felt instant relief. "He's alive." Sam said, everyone relaxing. "I'm alright. I'm not hurt." He said, looking at you who had blood dripping down your face. "You should be dead! That spear would have skewered a wild boar." Aragorn said. "I think there’s more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf said. Frodo moved his shirt revealing his mithril armor. You sighed with relief. "Mithril! You are full of surprises Master Baggins." Gimli chuckled. You all heard orcs, everyone exchanging looks of anxiety. "To the bridge of Khazad-dum!" Gandalf said.

You all ran, having very little light. You couldn't tell if the thing dripping down your face was blood from the blunt hit of the troll or if it was sweat from all the running. The answer was scaring Aragorn to no end as he saw a cut on the side of your head, blood trickling down your cheek. He wasn't even aware of the wound on your shoulder that was also bleeding. You all were brought to a screeching halt, the orcs surrounding you all. You all had your weapons drawn, fear coursing through you. Was this it? the vision you had where Boromir met his end? Was this to be your fate as well?

A fiery light appeared, sending the orcs in different directions as they all ran. "What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked. "A Balrog-- a demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" Gandalf yelled. All of you took off again, entering a passageway before stopping at a set of steps. You gripped the back of Pippin's cloak as he narrowly missed falling into a chasm below. Gandalf looked at Aragorn. "Gandalf." He said, confused on what to do. "Lead them on Aragorn. The bridge is near." Gandalf instructed. Aragorn halted. "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here." Gandalf warned. Aragorn nodded, rushing to the group. You all encountered a gap in the stairs. Legolas leapt, landing on the other side. "Gandalf." He beckoned. Gandalf jumped, landing successfully. Aragorn ushered you forward, you jumping to the other side. Boromir took Merry and Pippin, jumping to the other side as Aragorn and Legolas fired arrows at the orcs. Aragorn threw Sam across, Boromir catching him. Aragorn made an attempt to throw Gimli but he stopped him. "Nobody tosses a dwarf." He said before jumping. He nearly fell back but Legolas gripped his beard, yanking him forward. Your heart pounded as the stairs behind Aragorn and Frodo collapsed, making the very small area they had unstable. "Stay there. Hold on. Hang on! Lean forward!" He instructed, Frodo and Aragorn both shifting the balance so they could make the jump.

They both made it, all of you resuming in your run. "Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf yelled. Aragorn sprinted with you and the group across a bridge. You ran to the other side, you turning back to see Gandalf standing with his staff. A flash of a vison sparked before your eyes, you gripping Aragorn's arm. The vision was clearer. The fate of this event was very clear to you. Gandalf was going to die.

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf yelled. "GANDALF!" Frodo called. A light came from Gandalf's staff. "I am the servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you! Flame of Udun!" Gandalf yelled. The Balrog geared up, striking its sword down. It shattered, Gandalf standing there. "Go back to the shadow!" He commanded. You put a hand to your mouth, watching in horror the events playing out in front of you. "YOU…SHALL NOT...PASS!!!" He yelled, his voice booming. Gandalf brought his staff down, the Balrog attempting to walk forward but the bridge collapsed, bringing it down. Everyone but you seemed relieved. You knew there was more. You knew there was something about to happen.

The whip of the Balrog wrapped around Gandalf's ankle, bringing him to the edge as he looked at the group. He looked at you, your heart pounding in your ears. "GANDALF!" Frodo screamed, Boromir holding him back from running.

"Fly you fools." Was the last thing any of you heard him say before falling.

[drxwsyni]

Fault in Honesty︱Yandere Chisaki Kai/Overhaul x f!Reader

Anonymous asked: “Hi! I love your work! Do you think you could do a scenario with yandere overhaul and fem. Reader where she tells him she hates him?”

a/n: Ngl I’ve been having some writers block lately so doing a good ol’ sfw (or at least in yandere standards) oneshot was very refreshing. Also the section in italics represents a flashback! Thanks for the request babes <3

Warnings: implied stockholm, captivity

1.9k Words

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If you could hazard a guess as to where exactly you went wrong, it would be the day you let the comfort of his security first outshine the red flags. To an outsider, they’d be unavoidably obvious. But for you, someone experiencing a side of Chisaki reserved only to make appearances in your presence, they became muted. Vibrant and glaring warnings were but a momentary afterthought, given no more than a few seconds of contemplation before you returned to focusing on the ideal in front of you.

The ideal is still present now, only it’s being held together by the constricting realities that overlooking those red flags have brought about.

Walls seemingly inescapable, corridors twisting and unending. Perpetually trapping you underground, without an inkling of an idea as to which door would lead you to salvation. All coupled with the pain shooting up your legs with each time your bare feet collided with the tile, a dress airy and doing little to shield you from the deep set chill running past your exposed skin.

You shivered, both from the discomfort of the cold, and from the anxieties riddling your system.

By some form of chance luck, your frantic searching lead you to a stairwell, from one door to another, and into an all too familiar room.

The setting was by far more comforting than the bleak hallways below you. Once dull and sterile surroundings faded, your focus favouring the warmth. You spent many an hour in Chisaki’s study mere months ago, keeping the young boss company without question. Sometimes you’d simply exist alongside him, the copious amounts of work keeping Chisaki from indulging himself in conversation with you. Those moments were regrettable, as you could never stay with him all day. So you would leave him to his devices sooner or later, returning home while he continued to manage his ‘business.’

You suppose he detested the fact that you would inevitably take a leave of absence more than you originally perceived. And while his first move to initiate a more domestic closeness with you was endearing at the time, it only served to muddle your thoughts with regret now.

•  •  •

Your hand in his, seated close enough to him that your knees were touching. The leather couch situated in the study was always your go-to spot when waiting for your lover to fulfill his duties as a leader for the day. He managed to do so before you left this time, much to your appreciation.

“Anything you could possibly need is already in place, angel. With you living here we’d be able to spend more time together. And…” Pausing, as if to gather his thoughts while absentmindedly squeezing your hand gently in his, Chisaki soon continued. “...It would be beneficial if I were able to monitor your health more closely.”

You regarded the man with a warm and loving smile, finding slight humour in his predictable ways. For one, your wellbeing was always at the top of his concerns. It felt like such a passive occurrence at this point, Chisaki keeping those interests in mind like it was second nature. And you supposed, with how he so clearly treated you on another level of appreciation compared to everyone else in his life, that the quality would only be expected in a man who ensures such a high level of diligence in everything he does.

Chisaki also had a tendency to rush things with you. So naturally, his offer wasn’t something you were entirely surprised to hear. But unfortunately for him, there still resided some resistance in you.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too soon to be moving in together? Don’t get me wrong, Kai. I’d love to spend more time with you. It’s just―”

“This would be good for you. It’s dangerous for you to be living on your own, so you understand why I’m worried about you, right?”

Although he didn’t explicitly state it, you knew what Chisaki was referring to. The unavoidable fact of your quirklessness. He would never say that it made you weak, but you knew it was the root of his anxieties. You living alone was far more risky than he was willing to accept.

But you loved him. So, perhaps the change wasn’t something you should fear?

You let out a small sigh, still unsure, but resigning yourself for now. “...I suppose, if you think it would be best.”

In an act of tenderness, Chisaki took your hand that he was still holding, raising it to his lips. He planted a feathered kiss to the back of it, maintaining a gaze filled with adoration the whole time. Your heart fluttered at the gentle affection, feeling your face warm with a certain bashfulness.

He was pleased with your acceptance, albeit hesitant and largely unsure. “You’ll come around to the idea.”

And with the way Chisaki’s words and actions―not only now, but also in times before―left your better intuitions molding to match his, you thought you’d come around to it too.

•  •  •

The heavy wooden door behind you, a dark oak cut hand carved and lavish, opened in a swift motion. The abruptness of it earned a startled flinch from your body, you quickly turning around to view the culprit of the commotion in fear.

Like a deer in headlights, your whole being froze in place. Chisaki stood in the doorway, only he didn’t appear to be nearly as surprised as you.

If anything, he was calm.

His eyes trailed up and down your form, taking in your uneasy state. Slowly, he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. “It’s not good for your health for you to be up so late, my love.”

The dismissal of the situation sent a wave of frustration through you. Knowing he didn’t regret any of his actions, what he had put you through, and the reason why you were here―it was infuriating. The possessiveness, withholding your freedom like it wasn’t a necessity, because to him wasn’t. None of your misgivings resonated with him.

You regarded the composed leader, feeling your resistance begin to crumble from his mere presence. “Is this what you wanted?” Regrettably, your voice cracked midways through the question.

He almost looked disappointed, the fact of your apprehension being an unwanted outcome of the decisions he’d made for you. But he was nothing if not steadfast in his ways, a quality outshining the sorrow he felt for finding you so distressed. “All I’ve wanted is to ensure your health and safety. That’s what I’ve done, and I will not apologize for it.”

Another bit of your resolve faltered, your lower lip trembling as you fought to hold yourself together. “Even though I’m a prisoner?”

Chisaki let the words hang in the air for a moment, more so to let you process them instead, hoping you’d understand as much as he did that the statement couldn’t be farther from what you were to him. He moved across the room, taking his black dust mask off while he spoke, placing it on an end table. “I could hardly call you that. You live quite nicely―comfortable living quarters, balanced meals―everything you need and more to get by.”

“Everything except for my freedom, Kai. I mean...can’t you see how wrong this is?” In truth, you knew trying to reason with the man would get you nowhere. It wouldn’t change his mind, and it certainly wouldn’t help you in your now failed attempt to leave him. The thought of the uselessness of the whole thing wore you down, knowing putting up a fight would be for nothing in the end. You’d lost not from the moment he’d stepped into the room, but from the moment you agreed to be his all those months ago.

He faced you once again, mask and gloves removed, able to expose himself in such a way to you only. “It’s dangerous for someone with your connections to live outside of my compound―you know that. There are people who wouldn’t hesitate to use you as leverage against me.” He drew closer, an approach slow, as if trying to ease your nerves. “Tell me, have I ever hurt you?”

You inwardly cursed the man for knowing exactly what to say. His words were meditated, aiming only to lead you into compliance. The question was doing exactly that, because there was no other answer than the one he wanted to hear. The fact that no, he hadn’t. At least not physically. He truly did care for all of your needs. And even when it came to the mental anguish you went through, he always gave you space when you needed it. So really, you had no other choice but speaking that admittance.

Quietly, you did, “N-no, but―”

“So, you can’t deny that everything I do has your wellbeing in mind?”

As he took steps forward, you took some back. Soon enough you were hitting the front of his desk, unable to put any more distance between the two of you as he came closer.

“I can tell you understand that, angel. All I wish is for you to accept it.”

You shook your head, saltine tears falling down your cheeks. Confliction riddled your body and soul, part of you wanting to keep up those feeble forms of resistance, while the other part yearned to finally give in. It would be so much easier if you did, which was the worst part about it. Before you found yourself trapped by him, you truly did love Chisaki.

And somehow, even after all he’s done, those emotions never quite vanished.

“I don’t...I don’t want to be okay with this. Or be okay with you…” Your gaze fell, sniffling through your words. “I hate you―or at least, I’m supposed to hate you. But I fail at even doing that.”

You didn’t have to look up to know he was standing in front of you. Not when the uncharacteristic sound of a softness in his voice was in such a close proximity.

“That’s not a failure…”

Carefully, Chisaki cupped your face in his hands, prompting you to lift your head. Through a blurred vision you regarded his piercing amber eyes. Those set intently on yours, concerned but stern, matching his words to a T.

“You know this is what’s best for you. It’s just taking a while for that to sink in, but you’ll come around to it.” He delicately wiped away your tears as he spoke, the action soothing the torrent of discouragement inside of you. “Now, I’ll get you something to help you fall asleep, and we can forget this ever happened.”

Like always, nothing he did was a simple offer. His statements were final, and you were forced to comply whether you wished to do so or not. Only now, the notion of yearning for free will against his demands was unclear in your mind.

As it stood, and would continue to stand forever, agreeing with Chisaki was the option that had been growing on you as of late. Tonight’s events happened in a spur of the moment. In all honesty, you were unsure of yourself the moment you stepped foot outside your room. It always lingered in the back of your mind that your efforts wouldn’t get you anywhere. So, now that you were faced with that truth, resigning yourself to his whims wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be.

You let him guide you back to your room. You accepted the medication he gave without a second thought.

And soon you fell asleep, sorrows replaced with the calm and comfort Chisaki provided.

[everythinggeeky]

Back To You | Javier Peña

Javier Peña x f! reader

Warnings: angsty, a tinge of fluff, alcohol, divorce/separation

Word Count: 1.8k

Request:  Okay but uhhh 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 Javier Peña where he has a kid back in Texas with his ex and he flies in to see them 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 and maybe they uhhhh get back ✨together✨(anon)

A/N: this is it. I’ve plummeted myself into the Javier wormhole. I’d appreciate feedback! Texas Javi is the reason I breathe.

masterlist

You had to keep reminding yourself that this was just a conventional meeting. A meeting to satisfy the requirements of the courts, fulfill the needs of the custody agreement. You rocked your daughter Sofia side to side in your arms, desperately trying to get her to soothe herself back to sleep. Perhaps she sensed your unease; this would’ve been the first time in three years that you’ve seen Javier since he ran off to become DEA and ignore all of his life’s problems that came along with being married to you. 

Something itched in the back of your mind; he had ignored the court’s previous attempts to get him to come home, but for some reason, in the thick of Escobar’s destruction on Columbia, Javier had decided that now was the best time to see his daughter for the first time since her birth.

As you watched the clock tick, your pulse elevated one point. There was less than an hour left until his estimated arrival. God help you if he was on time, or early. You quickly whisked the thought away. Javier Peña was never on time, let alone early. He always found something...or someone to occupy his time. 

There was a moment in both of your lives when that was each other. 

It was a photographic life of domesticity: you had a beautiful ranch on a piece of land that once was owned by Javier’s father, whom he was very close with. Papa would make loving visits to say hi, share a meal, or just to bug Javier about fixing the leaking faucet in the powder room. You would have dinner on the kitchen table by 5 pm, and Javier would drop his keys in the bowl on the credenza next to the front door. 

You had gotten married in the backyard of the ranch. It was a special ceremony; just for the two of you and your closest friends, family, and Javier’s coworkers. The ranch was your happy place; there were so many special memories that were kept there. 

It was the stereotypical American dream, and it felt like bliss….until it all came crashing down around you.

A year after you had gotten married, you found out you were pregnant in the bathroom of the Piggly Wiggly. You had been feeling sick for the last week and when you missed your period, you decided it would be best if you bought a test on your weekly outing for groceries. The anticipation was practically eating you alive, so you bit the bullet and took the test in the grocery store bathroom. You nervously bounced your feet against the faintly sticky floor and flashed your eyes to the test two minutes later.

You watched the two faint lines develop and before you could process it for yourself, your whole life had changed forever.

You brought the test home to Javier that afternoon, passing it over after dinner. 

“This is yours?” he met your eyes.

You nodded, smiling a toothy grin, “you’re gonna be a daddy, Javi.”

“Shit!” he stood, excitedly, a wide smile on his own face, pulling you into a tight embrace.

As happy as Javier was on that day, the fresh excitement dwindled and was replaced by the harsh reality of parenting. 

The months leading up to Sofia’s birth had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

Javier would come home from work, drop his keys in the bowl, but the drop became more half-hazard and louder with every passing day. He came to expect a perfectly cleaned house and a hot, well-balanced meal on the table, and when your health slowly deteriorated because of your pregnancy, things had gotten harder for you and it just wasn’t as easy as it was six months ago. Javier was frustrated with the little things, and in your naivety, had contributed it to the stress from work. Those two combined created the perfect scenario for life-altering meltdowns that ultimately ended your marriage.

The screaming fights were ugly, ending in one of you crying and breaking down, as Javier typically took a breather in his Jeep with a loop around the neighborhood. You pushed one another away, the distance eventually caused him to find an apartment in the next town over, file for divorce, and encouraged him to leave for Columbia before the divorce could even be finalized.

Javier had left your life just as easily as he had come into it. 

And suddenly, Javier has weaseled his way into your life once again. 

His invitation had come in a letter, and as unconventional as it was, was endearing. He admitted to his shortcomings, wanting to make up for them and make a consistent appearance in his daughter’s life. Perhaps foolishly, in a lapse of judgment, if you will, you accepted his offer and allowed him to make the visit.

He was due to arrive in just over half an hour, and you were dreading it, but you also couldn’t deny that a part of you had a grim curiosity about what his visit would entail. 

You heard the Jeep putter outside, and silence after Javier parked on the street. You inhaled a deep, cleansing breath, hoping to rid yourself of the anxiety you had been carrying for the last week. Sofia stirred once again on your hip, looking out the window and gawking for herself.

“That’s daddy, baby…” you hushed to her.

“Da-...?” she stumbled over the foreign words.

“Yeah, Dad,” you sighed, walking to the front door to greet Javier as he knocked.

“Javier,” you reacted plainly, swinging the door to the modest three-bedroom rancher you now kept to yourself, a town over from the ranch. 

“Y/N…” he sighed, looking to you first, and then Sofia, “Sofia…you’re so big.”

“Wanna show daddy how old you are, Soph?” you modeled three fingers, to which she mimicked with her childlike chubby fingers.

“Wow….” he sighed in a dreamlike tone, his absence suddenly becoming real. 

He had missed what every first time father hopes to see; the first birthday, the first tooth, the first peanut butter (Sofia had handled that one like a champ, scraping the residue off the roof of her mouth, immediately begging for more) and of course, the big ones; the first steps, first words, and so on. You had held those precious memories close to your heart. Sofia was your precious princess; and you had wanted her to blossom into an amazing girl, even if you had to do it on your own.

“Come on….we can go sit in the playroom…” you led Javier into the playroom which neighbored the kitchen.

You sat Sofia down for playtime, to which she immediately seized the opportunity and started playing with her favorite toys. You sat down on the couch, and Javier sat next to you, a comfortable distance between you two. Too close for friends, too far for partners who once shared the same bed.

“Y/N…”

“Listen, Javi….I know you’re here to make good...but I’m happy, and so is Sofie. And we’re doing just fine.”

“That the thing, Y/N, I’m not.”

“That’s not what you said before you left us to chase drug lords in Columbia….”

“I know.”

“Then what? Why are you here?”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Listen...I forgave you a long time ago, Javi….but I’m much better off now. And maybe that’s because you’re not here.” 

“I want to be here. For Sofia.”

“You don’t get to decide when just to come into her life and then leave again when it’s convenient for you.”

He sighed before starting again, looking down at the toddler playing with a stack of blocks on the rug, “I realized when I was down there how much I needed this….needed a family.”

“What? The War on Drugs is changing your heart? Just like that?”

“Y/N...let me. While I was down there I realized that I was bigger than myself, that I needed something else to live for. My career is about me and what is the best for me, and who knows...maybe someone else. But when I go home at the end of the night to my empty apartment and my empty bed….I can’t help but think back to you. I’ve been thinking about this a lot...and what it means to be a dad...and I want to be that again.”

You inhaled a deep breath, considering his proposal. If you were as naive as you were when you first met him, you might have believed him, but the two years where you were actually married to the man eventually dwindled into the most catastrophic two years of your life. 

The fights were incredibly violent when Javi was stressed; he would pour himself a heavy glass of bourbon and would suck it down before you could say anything. Of course, as you floated around him, tending to his every need, he poured another glass, and another, eventually rendering himself intoxicated in the pale light of the hood above the stove, long after you had decided to go to bed. He would stumble up the stairs, mumble something about how the ranch was “too damn big for him to manage like this” and you would roll over in bed and hope he wouldn’t try anything in his current state.

He never touched you when you said no. He was a respectful man. His father had raised him well like that. As a matter of fact, when things started to go downhill, Papa was one of the first people you reached out to, before your own parents. Papa mentioned something about “talking some sense into the boy”, knowing what was best for him; you.

Nevertheless, you fought with Javier. And it went beyond your average, everyday couple domestics. Your fights were brutal and dug deep, riddled with personal attacks and jabs that left a heavy scar in their wake. 

As Javier begged for his place back into your life, you couldn’t help but think of the lonely nights spent crying into the duvet of the queen sized bed, while he slept on the couch downstairs. You didn’t think you could bear anymore nights like that, and you staked your claim.

“Javi...I can’t just let you waltz back in here on the promise that you’ll become a better man. I just can’t do that to Sofia.”

“Y/N...I promise I’ve changed. I mean it. I’ve seen what happens to the world when men become too powerful...and I can’t raise my little girl in a world like that without a father.”

“I’m going to need you to prove that to me.”

“I promise. I’ll do anything. Absolutely anything. Once this is all over, and there’s a bullet in Escobar’s head...I’ll come back to you and Sofia and I’ll be the man I’ve always promised to be.”

“Javi?”

“Yes, mija?”

“You better not be lying to me.”

tagged: @smokahuntis​

[justauthoring]

teach me a little ‘bout love.

Request: Hellooo♡ may i request an imagine with john shelby where a girl that came from London to stay with a family friend has a crush on him but also has a hard time figuring out her feelings because of the situation between her parents(physical and verbal abuse that her father did to her mother)and maybe john doesn't notice but polly and his bros do. Thanks♡♡♡♡

Pairing: John Shelby x Reader Word Count: 1,459 Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Notes: So, John just died... and let me tell you, I am not emotionally okay.

You’re a fool, John.

Those had been Polly’s words and John still didn’t understand them.

How in the fucking hell was he a fool?

You don’t understand a woman’s heart, Johnny. That’s why you’re a fool.

Ah, that’s right. But what the fuck did that mean?

Letting out an aggravated sigh, John’s runs his hands over his face, staring up at ceiling with frustrated clear in his gaze. His aunts and brothers words had been nagging his mind since he’d left work that day to head on him, electing to skip out on the Garrison for the night. Oddly enough, John didn’t feel like copious amounts of whiskey were going to help him forget that night.

Aunt Pol said he didn’t know the first thing about a woman’s heart, let alone yours. That when it came to you, John was left completely blank in the head because, apparently, Tommy’s words; he’d been making all the wrong decisions. But, what John really couldn’t understand is, what did that mean?

The one thing John did know, and he’d accepted it long ago, was that he was completely and whole-heartedly in love with you. He had been since he’d met you as a little boy, before your parents moved to London and he’d thought he’d never see you again. 

Then, you’d come to stay with a family friend about a month or so ago and John was reminded of what he’d thought was a silly little crush as a boy which had blossomed into so much more. And up until tonight, John had been sure you didn’t return his feelings.

You’re letting a fine woman go by moping around, John.

Did you love him? 

Tell her before she moves on.

If you did, why did you seem so... closed off all the time around him? John was sure you weren’t in love and maybe even hated him because you only ever really seemed to act so reserved and cold when he came to him. You were fine around his brothers, and you got along great with Polly and Ada. So it definitely wasn’t because he was a Shelby or because of the things he did.

Up until now, John had just thought it was because he was... just him.

“Fuck.”

Huffing, John pushes himself off his bed which had felt stiffer then normal. He fights the urge to just ignore everything and go to bed because he already knows he won’t be able to with thoughts constantly nagging at him. He had to talk to you, Had to just lay it all out on the table, or else he’d never know and he’d never find peace with his own nagging thoughts.

And he sure as hell didn’t want you finding some other man because John lacked on acting quicker.

John doesn’t even realize how truly late it is until you open the front door, in nothing but your night gown and a robe wrapped around you to protect you from the cold. Your eyes are heavy and it’s clear he’s woken you up and one glance at the clock hanging on your living room wall tells John it’s nearly three in the morning.

“John?” You call softly, voice thick with sleep as you rub at your eyes. “What’re you--”

“I love you.” 

It’s the first thought that comes to his mind. It’s the whole reason he’d came here in the first place and John’s so riddled with anxiety and nerves that he apparently has lost all tact to even make sense. 

And his eyes widen when he’s processed just what he’s confessed, as do yours. Your lips part as if to speak but you find no words and you’re left with furrowed brows and a confused expression as John’s cheeks warm in embarrassment, a feeling he’s not quite accustomed to, and he scrambles to explain himself. Or make himself sound like less of an idiot. Because he does realize just how random this truly is.

“I mean,” he coughs awkwardly, “I’m in love with you. And I have been since that day in primary when you’d dripped over your own two feet and everyone had laughed at you. And when your eyes had met my own, all watery like, and I was just... fuck, lost. But when you came back, you were cold and indifferent and I pushed me feelings away because I was so fucking sure you didn’t return them.” He pauses, inhales sharply and meets your gaze dead on. “But now i’m not so sure.”

And it’s a while before you speak. John’s words hang openly in the air for a long while before you gain any confidence to part your lips and say something.

“What made you change your mind?”

John blinks; “what?”

“You said you’re not sure,” you elaborate, nodding your head gently. “But you had been before. What changed?”

“Polly says I’ve been an idiot,” John explains with a light grumble, scuffing his shoes on your front doorstep. “That I don’t know a woman’s heart.”

You laugh. It’s soft and faint, but it surprises John as you shake your head. “I’m pretty sure you do,” you comment lightly, “you’re very good at charming the ladies, John.”

“Okay,” he complies, “I don’t know your heart.”

And that makes you pause.

“But I want to,” he adds, desperate. “I really fucking want to.”

Your eyes lower and this expression washes over your face. It’s an expression John’s never quite sure he’s noticed before on you, and yet, it seems familiar. And he feels like an idiot because it occurs to him that this sadness that seems to swallow you whole right before you is nothing new, he’s just never noticed it before.

“I’m broken, John,” you say softly, voice a mere whisper. “There’s a whole where my heart should be.”

John takes a step towards you, feeling as if he’s losing you, and his hand stretches out towards you. Wanting to touch you, but feeling as if you’ll pull away if he does. “What do you mean, Y/N?”

“I don’t know if I know how to feel love.” John catches sight of the tear possibly before you even do, watching it fall right before his feet and create a noticeable spot on the concrete. 

“Why would you say that?”

His hand touches your cheek. Gentle and hesitant at first, but then he moves to wipe away your tear, brushing away the ones that follow. His hand moves to cup your cheek and you instinctively lean into the touch, finding comfort in it as you hesitate to respond, flickering your eyes up to his own.

“I know that I care for you,” you say after a moment, “I know that I love you, somehow. But, when I was younger, my father...” You hesitate and John feels his chest tighten with worry. “He was just so... cruel. I’d watch, watch the way he’d treat my mum, the things he’d say and do to her... I grew up thinking that that was love and now... I don’t know what it is.”

John’s hands don’t leave you. Instead, the other follows and suddenly he’s pulling you close, until your lips are inches apart and his forehead is softly resting against your own. You’re the closest the two of you have ever been but it doesn’t feel awkward. His grip is gentle and comforting, it fills you with a warmth you’d been sure wasn’t possible as your eyes met his, completely and without mistake.

“I don’t know what love is either,” John whispers into the thick air and you hum, sniffling slightly. “But I do know one thing.”

He hesitates, waiting for you to acknowledge his words. You do so almost instantly, setting your hands over his own as you bite your bottom lip, waiting.

“I will never, ever touch you the way your father touched your mother. I will never say the things he said to her. I would never.” And then, he tightens his grip, not painfully, just reassuringly and breathes heavily into the night air, swallowing thickly. “And maybe, we can figure it out together.”

Your eyes flutter shut.

“Hmm?” John prompts, “would you like that? Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper with a shaky voice, fluttering your eyes open to meet his own. You nod with your forehead still pressed against his own. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” John nods, taking the moment. “Okay then.”

And then he pulls back, never pulling his eyes away from your own and smiles. Smiles that boyish and charming grin of his that you adore so much and you place your hands on his chest, gripping the front of his button up and moving to pull him closer.

Sealing the deal with a kiss.

-

Let me know what you thought?

[seriestrash]

The Summer of ‘95 - Part Four

|| PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE ||

Summary: In the summer of 1995, Sunset Curve were trying to make a name for themselves. The band was always close but that summer they forged an unbreakable bond. Whilst the whole band strengthened their existing connection, Alex and Luke find themselves lighting a different spark.

A little love life before the afterlife.

Part Four: Something Special

Word Count: 7023 (long, loops)

- read on ao3 -

☀ ☀ ☀

Luke and Alex parted ways in the early hours of the morning. Now late in the afternoon Luke sits quietly on the couch in Bobby’s garage. Reggie and Bobby were hanging around too, both bored from waiting for Alex. 

“Are you sure he isn’t mad at me?” Reggie questions. 

“For the tenth time, yes, I’m sure.” Luke groans before telling a little white lie, “I told you I spoke to Alex last night on the phone and he’s been too sick to get out of bed.” 

“We’re losing precious days of summer here.” Bobby highlights, “We haven’t performed since the party and we all know how that went.” 

“Disaster.” Reggie frowns. “And my parents totally don’t buy my excuse about spilling a drink.” 

“I already said I’m sorry.” Luke snaps, he had been sure Alex was going to show up today but the longer they waited around the more concerned he got about ruining one of the best friendships he’s ever had. 

Reggie shakes off Luke’s aggression and walks over to Alex’s drums, “I’ll be our new drummer. It can’t be that hard,” Reggie spins one of the symbols. 

“Stop,” Luke says, “You know Alex hates when someone else touches his drums.” 

“Just about as cranky as you get when someone touches your song book without your permission.” Bobby smirks. 

“I’ll show you a song when I’m ready.” Luke says dramatically, “Is it too much to ask for a little patience?” 

Bobby and Reggie are chuckling at a worked up Luke when Alex appears out of nowhere. 

“I’m gone a few days and you’re already replacing me?” Alex appears nervous although he tries to hide it. 

Luke’s head quickly turns in the direction of his friend, trying to read his expression or his body language, anything that might tell Luke if their kiss that morning ruined things or started something new. Alex was avoiding eye contact with Luke and only looked over at Reggie invading his drums space. 

“Finally.” Reggie says throwing a drum stick at Alex and the blonde fumbles it slightly but still caught it. 

“Sorry I’ve been MIA.” Alex laughs. “I was sick.” 

“Sick with the love bug?” Reggie jokes and both Alex and Luke’s eyes go wide. 

“What?” Alex forces out a laugh riddled with nerves. 

“I saw you at the party with that guy.” Reggie explains. 

“Oh,” Alex lets out a sigh of relief, “Right.” 

“Are we going to chit chat all day or can we rehearse?” Luke changes the subject. 

“I’ve been playing around with some of the chords in Long Weekend.” Bobby jumps straight into it enthusiastically.

“That’s one of my favourites.” Alex nods, “Let’s hear it.” 

Luke’s eyes had been solely focused on Alex since he entered the garage so once the blonde finally meets his gaze Luke smiles hopefully.

Alex approaches the couch where Luke sits and quietly asks, “Room for one more?” 

Luke’s smile grows as he thinks of his parting comment to Alex earlier that morning. Luke coaxes his head ever so slightly as if to ask Alex if this meant what he thought it did. The drummer picked up on Luke’s silent question and wore a sweet grin as he nods gently. 

“Always,” Luke smiles through a nod as Alex takes the space on the couch beside him. Luke quickly tries to contain himself and turns his attention to Bobby. 

Luke had never wished for band practice to be over before but that day he couldn’t wait for it to end so he could to try get a moment alone with Alex. The moment didn’t come until after dark. Bobby offers for everyone to crash in the garage that night, Reggie accepts but Luke turns to Alex for a single second before turning down the offer. 

“I told my mom I’d be home tonight.” Luke shrugs a shoulder quietly holding his breath for Alex to also come up with an excuse. 

“Not tonight, I’m still feeling a little off.” Alex says, “But tomorrow, the pier? Maybe a club?”

“Club adjacent.” Reggie throws his head from side to side. 

“You know what I mean.” Alex chuckles. 

Luke laughs too, more than warranted but he was just excited that Alex found an excuse for them to leave together. 

The two exit Reggie’s garage and don’t say a word until they’re at the end of the driveway. 

“So I know-“ Alex starts.

“About this- Luke says at the same time and the pair laugh it off. Luke pauses and motions for Alex to speak first, part of him feared if Alex didn’t say what he wanted to now he might talk himself out it all. 

“I was going to say if we are really going to see whatever this is, I need to set a few rules.” Alex waves his hand assertively, like he had to push that statement out.

“Come on, Alex, no rules in the bubble.” Luke pouts. 

“If I’m going to adopt fifty percent of your optimism, you have to take on at least twenty-five percent of my anxiety.” Alex says completely seriously. 

Luke wears a soft smile, “Alex, I would take one hundred percent of that away for you if I could.”

Alex smiles too as they walk and he believes Luke’s comment to be genuine. Still he continues, “We keep this private, for now at least.” 

“Done.” Luke agrees. 

“We promise to not let this jeopardise the band.” Alex adds. 

“Agreed.” Luke nods sincerely, he definitely didn’t want that either.

“And if at anytime, one of us freaks out, likely me-“ Alex begins but Luke throws out his arms to stop the blonde from walking. 

Luke forces Alex’s stare as he stresses, “If at any point this hurts you more than helps you, I’ll pull the plug myself.” 

Something about Luke’s choice of words was very calming for Alex, maybe this thing between them actually could help, maybe it would help Alex accept himself more or take away some of his anxieties. 

“Okay now that that’s all out of the way.” Alex lets out a loud exhale and is ready to move forward, “Will you go to the museum with me? It’s open late all summer.” 

“Are you asking me on a date?” Luke coaxes his head with a smile. 

“I think I am.” Alex’s own smile creeps wider. 

Luke happily agrees and the two make their way over to the museum. It was closing in an hour but without either of them having to say it out loud, they both knew exactly where they were headed when they arrived. 

With it being just before closing, the room of the exhibit is completely empty except for the two of them. They stand in front of a glass cabinet that’s two feet wide and eight feet tall, full of preserved butterflies all pinned with no rhyme or reason, just a colourful display of beauty. The teens are shoulder to shoulder, Luke’s looking at the butterflies but he can feel Alex’s gaze pointed right at him. 

“I’m not going to cry.” Luke says quietly with his smile still pointed to the display. 

“I didn’t think you would.” Alex matches Luke’s soft tone and still looks directly at the brown haired boy. 

Alex shyly lets his fingers brush against Luke’s. Luke looks to Alex now but he had pointed his shy smile at the butterflies. Again the blonde gently brushes his fingers against Luke’s and now the shorter boy knows it wasn’t an accident the first time. Like when Alex hesitated to kiss Luke that morning, Luke wanted to be the one to decisively hold Alex’s hand but he doesn’t as he wanted to let Alex slowly work himself up to it. The blonde does eventually find the courage to take Luke’s hand in his own but he doesn’t dare take his gaze off the display, even though he can feel Luke’s stare burning into the side of him. Luke returns his attention to the butterflies in front of them as well and the pair stand there in silence with fingers laced together and a smile plastered wide on each of their faces as they admire the display until someone announces over the intercom that the museum was closing in five minutes. 

It was easier than Alex anticipated to surrendered to Luke’s optimistic dream bubble where the pair lived comfortably for the remainder of summer. Although still nervous about what this meant for their friendship, Alex found himself enjoying his quiet moments with Luke. The blonde still had the occasional freak out when they kissed sometimes or when Luke would hold his hand under a table in a public setting and sometimes he worried that Luke’s playful side would be seen as flirty when they’re around their other bandmates but more often than not, Alex was craving the moments that scared him the most. 

Luke makes a conscious effort not to push Alex’s boundaries and he was always patient and understanding when Alex pulls away from a kiss or tenses up over an innocent touch in public. Luke constantly reassures Alex that he doesn’t need to apologise for feeling overwhelmed or anxious about their relationship and stresses he’d never push Alex to do anything he wasn’t ready for. Eventually almost all of Alex’s anxieties towards his and Luke’s relationship wash away. 

Whilst Sunset Curve’s notoriety began to grow around town so did the feelings these two shared for each other. Alex and Luke get caught up in their feelings, consumed by them and a sweet innocence encapsulates almost every moment shared. 

They’d go on late night rendezvous in the park, take turns pushing each other on the swings and sit on the roundabout and talk until the sun came up. They’d share secret kisses during band practice when they found a moment alone and anytime they weren’t together the other would creep into each of their minds. 

Alex started spending less of his time at home again. Being with Luke - although they kept it secret - reminded Alex what it was like to be accepted without question and not have to hide who he really is. Being at home where his parents couldn’t look him in the eye tainted the good vibes he was cruising through summer with. 

Between the band really taking off and the romance blossoming between the two friends, this summer was shaping up as one for the history books. Although things were going fantastically for the band, with them getting some serious traction and things truly were all sunshiney in the romance department, Luke’s home life started to tip the scales the other way. With summer ending soon, Luke’s parents were starting to put pressure on him again about school. They kept suggesting he should stop spending all day with the band and put some of his enthusiasm into his studies. They were constantly on him about choosing his classes for his senior year and getting everything in line to help get him into a good college. 

Luke felt like it was getting to the point where it was make or break for the band. If something big didn’t happen soon he was going to follow the path his parents were trying to lay out for him. Sure, it would have been an honest living, probably one he’d end up enjoying eventually but he couldn’t truly be happy if he didn’t follow his passion in life or at the very least try to. 

All this was weighing on Luke ’s mind during the last week of summer but he tries to push that to the side as the band was planning their biggest impromptu show yet. 

Sunset Curve make their way to the summer carnival. The were planning something big for later in the evening but first they take a moment to goof off. They play carnival games and complain that they’re rigged every time they lose. Reggie uses all of his tokens trying to win a goldfish but he has no such luck. They all eat enough junk food to give them stomach aches and laugh so much their faces hurt. 

A few hours pass in what felt like the blink of an eye. Reggie announces that he wants to see the fortune teller before they perform. 

“I don’t need a crystal ball to know where we’re headed boys.” Luke smiles. “Straight to top.” 

“I want to do the funhouse.” Alex says sending a subtle glance Luke’s way. 

“Too many clowns.” Reggie shakes his head. 

“Nobody asked you to come.” Alex quips and Reggie exaggerates the offence he took. 

“I have to see my connection at the ferris wheel.” Bobby announces, “Meet me there 8:45 sharp. We have to time this perfectly.” 

The other three nod their understanding. Reggie takes some of Bobby’s spare tickets and heads towards the fortune teller. Alex gives Luke a playful shove and the pair end up racing towards the funhouse but instead of joining the end of line Alex pulls at Luke’s jacket and leads him elsewhere. 

“I thought you wanted to do the funhouse?” Luke knits his brows. 

“Change of plans.” Alex wears a cute smile and Luke would have followed him anywhere in that moment. 

Alex takes Luke around the rear side of the funhouse which is at the edge of the carnival so there’s nothing there but some litter and the fence that borders the land. Not the most romantic setting but it was private. Still giddy regardless, the pair giggle though a kiss that tasted of cotton candy. They were enjoying themselves in another stolen moment but Luke’s family drama creeps into the forefront of his mind and he breaks the kiss. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Alex asks in a panic. 

“No, it’s not you.” Luke shakes his head. “I’m thinking about my mom.” 

Alex’s eyes widen,”Do you normally think about her when we kiss?”

 Luke gives Alex a gentle shove and mumbles disgust.

“I’m sorry,” Alex apologises, “What’s wrong, did you have another fight?” 

“Only everyday lately.” Luke sighs and he sits on the grass with his back pressed up against the funhouse. 

Alex sits to the right of Luke, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“What’s there to talk about?” Luke huffs, “It’s the same old story; my parents want me to put down my guitar and pick up college brochures.” 

“Maybe you could go yo a music school?” Alex was trying to be positive. 

“Yeah right.” Luke scoffs, “If we’ve not made it big by the time we graduate then what’s the point?” 

Alex frowns, “Is fame all we’re really chasing?” 

“No,” Luke shakes his head, “But I know in my soul that our music is meant to be heard.” 

“I know that too,” Alex agrees, “And your parents will see that too.” 

“I don’t know if they will.” Luke looks at his hands in his lap.

“If we don’t get our big break by the end of summer, we’ll keep screaming our songs through the school year,” Alex is encouraging, “At least we’ll have each other to suffer through senior year with.” 

“There’s only a week of summer left but I can’t help but feel like we’re close to something special.” Luke states.

Alex links his arm with Luke’s and rests his head on Luke’s shoulder, “I’ve kind of felt like that all summer.” 

Luke rests his own head against Alex’s and the two sit quietly all huddled together. Alex could have almost fallen asleep he was that comfortable. The blonde is playing with Luke’s hand when he catches sight of the time on Luke’s watch. 

“Oh crap, we’re late.” Alex springs up. 

Luke checks his watch and jumps to his feet too, “8:51, the fireworks start in nine minutes!” 

“We have to hurry.” Alex grabs Luke’s hand and drags him back into the thick of the carnival. The blonde even forgot to let go of Luke’s hand as they ran towards the ferris wheel together, weaving through carnival goers.

“There’s the guys,” Luke spots Reggie and Bobby waiting by the ferris wheel looking annoyed. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Alex pants and he lets go of Luke’s hand when the pull up to their bandmates. 

“The funhouse line took longer than we thought.” Luke catches his breath. 

“We still have enough time but we have to hurry.” Bobby ushers the boys over to his friend working the ferris wheel. 

“I could get fired for this.” The worker says. 

“Or you could be apart of history, Max.” Bobby pats him on the shoulder before reaching behind his stand and collecting two guitars, “Plus, the carnival is over in a week and you’re out of a job anyway.” He says light heartedly. 

Bobby keeps one guitar and hands another to Luke. Reggie grabs their Sunset Curve banner that was also stashed away at Max’s station. 

Bobby’s friend lets the band to the front of the line where people sported confused looks at the instrument wielding teens. Alex and Luke get in one seat together followed by Bobby and Reggie in another. 

Max returns to his station and turns off the speaker for the ride. More confusion sparks from people on and around the ferris wheel. Max waits until the band is at the top of the ride and stops it completely. 

Reggie drops their band banner and holds it in place. Alex pulls his drumsticks from his bag and uses the seat they’re in as his drum kit, tapping on the side and the safety bar. Luke and Bobby play the opening chords to ‘Now Or Never’. 

People start gathering around the ferris wheel to watch the scene unfold, quickly a crowd forms. The band finish their song just as the fireworks go off and although Alex and Luke almost didn’t make it in time, the band pull off their perfectly time stunt. 

“We’re Sunset Curve, tell your friends!” Reggie shouts loudly and the other band members cheer along as the crowd applauds their efforts. 

The teens were then escorted out of the carnival by security but it was truly legendary. This epic display of their talent caught the attention of a local club owner that caught up with the band out in the parking lot. He invited them to come play the following night as the live talent cancelled last minute. The venue was small and not well known by any means but it was still the most incredible thing to happen to the band up until that point. They booked a club, no more playing outside of them. 

Luke returns home that night and falls asleep in high spirits. Unfortunately his good vibes are quickly crushed the next morning when he’s met by his mom in the kitchen and she didn’t appear happy. It turns out that one of their neighbours witnessed Sunset Curve headline the ferris wheel the night before and told Emily about it. 

The two got in a fight about it, Luke was trying to explain that the stunt was worth it because they booked a gig at a local club that night but Emily shut him down by saying he’s not even old enough to play in clubs. The argument gets heated and Luke storms out of the house. 

Luke was worked up all day and some of that intensity transferring into their set that night in the club. Luckily it didn’t ruin their performance and it was another successful show of the bands talent. 

The club owner was that impressed with the band that he offered for them to come back the next week and play again and of course the band accepted, anything to get their name out there. 

When Emily caught wind of Luke booking gigs when school is supposed to start back up another big argument ensues. Their fights were starting to get more heated and not just louder. It felt like the cracks in their relationship were getting too big to patch up. 

Although he didn’t want to, Luke goes to school the first week to get his parents off his back. The three seniors skipped the last two periods on the Friday to get ready for their second gig at the club. Bobby - whom was already graduated - was waiting out the front with the getaway car, one his dad was letting him use to drive to job interviews. Bobby hadn’t applied for any jobs but he was lying to have a car to drive the band around in. 

Their second gig at the club was even better than the first. Luke quietly returned home knowing his dad would be working late and he hoped to sneak in without alerting his mom, that way the lecture could wait until morning but Emily was there waiting for him. Luke had been told he wasn’t allowed to do the show that night but he did it anyway and his mom found out about him cutting class so she were extra furious. Luke and his mom fought yet again, she kept going on about school coming first and Luke kept yelling about how he only went to school to please her and music was what he wanted to do full time and since there seemed to be no pleasing her anyway he might as well stop going to school all together. 

Unkind words were shared in the heat of the moment and Luke shoves a handful of his things in a backpack, grabs his guitar case and jumps on his bike and leaves his distraught mother in the driveway. Luke pedals his way to Alex’s house and sneaks around the back, stashing his bike where the drummers parents wouldn’t see it. Luke taps on Alex’s window, alerting the blonde who just changed into something comfortable. Alex spots Luke and is instantly concerned, they’d only parted ways an hour before and whilst they had coaxed one another out of their window multiple times this summer, this didn’t feel like a spontaneous rendezvous. 

“What’s wrong?” Alex whispers as he opens the window. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” Luke says on the verge of tears. 

Alex looks back at his door in a panic, fearing that his parents might walk in at any moment but he still sees the desperation on Luke’s face and helps him climb through the window. 

“I know you don’t like me coming round incase your parents found out about us,” Luke says quietly, “But I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“It’s okay,” Alex soothes as he gets Luke to sit down on the bed in an attempt to calm him. “I know you weren’t supposed to go out tonight, did you get in trouble?” 

“Worse than trouble,” Luke’s voice cracks, “Alex, I’m done. I can’t go back there.” 

“Come on, Luke,” Alex sits beside him and rests his hand on Luke’s knee, “You don’t mean that.” 

“No, I really do.” Luke insists, “My mom is trying to take Sunset Curve away from me. She says I can’t be in the band as long as I live under their roof. So I’m not going to live there anymore.” 

Alex’s expression falls, he was at a loss for words and Luke continues, “I know I can’t stay here forever, I wouldn’t do that to you but can I please just stay tonight?” 

“Of course,” Alex smiles weakly as his heart hurt for Luke. 

Luke quietly vents some more about the argument and when he finally settles, Alex pulls back the covers for them to get into bed. The two boys face each there and whisper their goodnights. By the morning the pair were cuddled together, peacefully sleeping. 

Later that day, the two make their way to Bobby’s garage and Luke tells Reggie and Bobby that he’s left home for good. Bobby was reluctant - only out of fear of his dad finding out - but he sets Luke up in the loft space of the garage, tucked away out of sight but somewhere safe for him to crash. 

On the Monday, Reggie and Alex return to school like everything was normal. They had been telling their parents and Luke’s parents when they stopped by, that they had no idea where he was. Bobby kept Luke company most of the time but he did go to a few job interviews his dad lined up for him. 

Luke was worried that everyone was moving on with their lives but truthfully the other band members saw sense in Luke leaving school to pursue the band full time. School had only been back a week and a half but they could all feel Sunset Curve losing the momentum it built up over summer. 

A week after Luke run away he was starting to feel lonely in the loft at night and during the days when everyone was busy with school or interviews. Although he was still angry with his parents, Luke couldn’t help but miss them. 

One afternoon Luke sits alone in Bobby’s garage and he writes ‘Unsaid Emily’ in his song book, dripping stray tears onto the pages as he does. When everyone came over that evening for rehearsal, Luke wasn’t sure if he was going to share the song with them but he compelled to. The band helped put music to the sad song and playing it with his closest friends was therapeutic for Luke. Although it made him feel better overall it did make him upset that his mom couldn’t see that this is the exact reason why he loves music, it helps him through the tough times. 

A few days later a surprising phone call makes it’s way to Reggie’s house. They booked the Orpheum. It turns out one of the venue representatives heard about the carnival spectacle and had been trying to track the band down since. 

They had a week to prepare for their biggest break yet. 

Alex and Reggie agreed, there was no point in going to school anymore, it was only getting in the way of their big break but they were going to go right up until the showcase so they could use the success they hoped the show would bring as leverage with their parents. Incase their parents were still not supportive though, both Reggie and Luke stashed a bag of their belongings in the loft of Bobby’s garage. 

Alex leaves school early one day to hang out with Luke. The two of them sneak into Luke’s house while his parents were at work so he could gather a few more of his things. Alex could tell that being there upset Luke so he tries to comfort him. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back home?” Alex asks. 

“There’s no point.” Luke shakes his head with a solemn expression, “If I come home there’s no way they’ll let me out again and I wont be able to play the showcase and there is no way in hell I’m missing that show.” 

“Maybe they’ll change their minds after the show.” Alex tries to be optimistic. 

“Maybe.” Luke’s smile is weak. 

Alex didn’t know what to say to make Luke feel better so he tries to lift his spirits by changing the subject. 

“I want to play the song you wrote at the beginning of summer during our showcase.” Alex announces. 

Luke looks confused for a second, “Alex’s Song?” 

“Yeah, but we should probably rename it first,” Alex chuckles softly, “ ‘Bright’ works nice, I think.” 

“I went to bring up the song to the guys at the start of summer but you seemed a little weird when I did so I dropped it,” Luke shares, “I figured you weren’t comfortable sharing.” 

“I know,” Alex lets out a breath, “I thought it was so special I wanted to keep it to myself.” 

“Now you want to share it?” Luke questions. 

“When you sung ‘Unsaid Emily’ with us, I saw how much that helped you.” Alex explains, “And when you shared ‘Bright’ with me- I don’t think I can express how much I needed that song, how much you helped me. You said you wrote that song to let me know I always have you in my corner, I want other people to feel like we’re in their corner too.” 

“It’s your song.” Luke smiles, “I’ll play it if that’s what you want.” 

Alex picks up Luke’s old guitar that’s missing a few strings and pretends like he knows what he’s doing. Sure, he knew a few chords but he was by no means an expert. Alex plays what he can and fakes the rest, sining ‘Bright’ softly to Luke making for a sweet moment as Luke watches on with such love and warmth in his eyes. 

Alex finishes and sits down the old guitar, “I just have one tiny request.” Alex melts under Luke’s adoring stare.

“Anything.” Luke says softly. 

“Can I keep the original paper and we all work on the music with a duplicate copy?” Alex asks. “I want to share but I still kind of want it to be mine.” 

Luke rolls his head forward with a soft laugh and if he had his song book on him he would have torn the page out and handed it straight over. 

They leave Luke’s house with a backpack full of his belongings. 

“Do you want to do something fun?” Luke asks as they walk. 

“What did you have in mind?” Alex questions. 

Luke takes Alex to the aquarium and they sit in dark room with a blue glow of the water being the main source of light. There was only a few other people around and at one point a class on a field trip all pile through. Luke and Alex sit there quietly and watch the people come and go. Eventually it winds up being just the two of them, they approach the big glass wall that gave them a glimpse of what lay below the water. They quietly hold hands and watch the aquatic life float by. Luke turns his gaze towards Alex and can see blue glow reflect in Alex’s eyes and how it paints his skin. The drummer also peels his gaze from the sea life and meets Luke’s smile with a grin of his own, just for a second before turning back towards the glass. In that moment Luke had the urge to tell Alex he loved him but for whatever reason he keeps quiet. 

The pair lost track of time and turn up to Bobby’s two hours late for rehearsal. They are met with a very annoyed Bobby and a disappointed looking Reggie. 

“So you two are alive.” Bobby quips when the pair finally turn up. 

“Sorry, we lost track of time.” Alex frowns. 

“I got a call from the venue rep at the Orpheum today, they wanted us to come by to work out the layout for our gear.” Bobby has his arms folded tightly against his chest. 

“I thought we were supposed to do that Friday.” Luke mumbles. 

“They needed us to come in early.” Bobby says. 

“Can we go now?” Alex asks. 

“Reggie and I already went.” Bobby snaps, “I came and picked him up after school and we waited around for you for half an hour.” 

“Sorry, I skipped last period.” Alex shrinks feeling guilty. 

“We came back here thinking we’d find you both ready for rehearsal at least,” Bobby scoffs. “We were an hour late to our meeting at the Orpheum. Do you know how unprofessional we looked showing up an hour late with half the band?” 

“This is my fault.” Luke jumps in, “I’ve been bored here by myself most days and I made Alex ditch so I had someone to hang out with. I lost track of time.” 

“We’re days away from a career defining moment and you two are ditching band practice to do what?” Bobby asks. 

“Does it even matter? We’ve said we’re sorry.” Luke gets defensive, “It was just one practice, we didn’t know about the meeting.” 

“It hasn’t just been one practice,” Reggie finally speaks up. “You two have been late a lot recently.” 

“The ferris wheel.” Bobby back up Reggie’s statement. 

“We still timed it perfectly,” Luke rolls his eyes. 

“It feels like you’re distracted lately.” Bobby states. “Do you even care about the band anymore?” 

“I ran away from home for this band.” Luke is wildly offended. 

“We wrote a song today,” Alex tries to defuse the tension, “To play during our showcase. It’s called ‘Bright’.” 

“You want us to learn a new song before the show?” Bobby questions. 

“It’s worth it.” Alex insists, “It’s kind of a friendship anthem.” 

Bobby let’s out a frustrated breath, he was still too annoyed to forgive them right away, even if it did look like they were thinking of the band when they were goofing off. 

“Can you just let me know if you’re ditching early next time?” Reggie is quicker to forgive, “I’ll come with you.” 

“Deal.” Alex nods. 

Bobby sulks inside his house and before Reggie leaves he expresses his interest in hearing the song tomorrow. 

Once they’re alone again Luke turns to Alex expecting he would share his frustration for being read the riot act from their friends but instead he’s met with a defeated expression. 

“This is what I was afraid of,” Alex sighs, “Rule number two, don’t let this jeopardise the band.” 

“Alex, what are you saying?” Luke frowns. 

“I don’t know.” Alex shakes his head. 

“Can we talk?” Luke pleas. 

“I have to go.” Alex is already making his way towards the exit. “Family dinner.” 

“That’s tomorrow night-“ Luke says but Alex disappears in a hurry anyway.

Luke is left standing there alone wondering how everything fell apart so quickly. 

The following morning Bobby comes out into the garage with some breakfast for the missing person camped out in the loft. The older boy was still annoyed but Luke gives him a wet willy and it was all water under the bridge. 

That afternoon Luke and Alex show ‘Bright’ to the band and they worked out all the kinks with the music. Luke couldn’t help but notice that Alex felt off the entire rehearsal. 

Just as they finish tweaking ‘Bright’, Bobby runs inside because the phone was ringing. It was the venue rep letting them know their showcase had sold out. This seemed to pick up Alex’s spirits and further erase some of the previous days tension among the band. 

That night Alex pretended to leave rehearsal but snuck back into the garage when he knew it was just Luke. The pair hide away in the loft together. Alex sits with crossed legs and Luke hugs his knees against his chest, the two face towards each other. 

“They all loved ‘Bright’,” Alex tries to fill the silence, “I mean I didn’t doubt they would.” 

Luke just nods. 

“I’m sorry I left the way I did yesterday,” Alex apologises, “I had a mini freak out but that’s not news for you. But don’t worry, I’m over it.” He laughs but Luke didn’t appear to find the humour. 

“Rule number two, Alex.” Luke mumbles and he can’t even look at Alex. 

“We were late, we won’t let that happen again.” Alex has a sad smile as he didn’t like where this was going. “It was an honest mistake.” 

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Luke explains, “I knew we were running late but I didn’t care, I just wanted to spend time with you.” 

“We can still prioritise the band and spend time with each other.” Alex smiles softly, “This isn’t something we have to get worked up over. 

Luke finally meets Alex’s gaze and there is intense sadness behind his eyes, “Alex, I’m at the point where I would leave the band for you.” 

“What?” Alex crinkles his brows in confusion. 

“If I had to choose what I want more; for the band to make it or to be with you,” Luke pauses, “I’d choose you, Alex.” 

Alex’s expression falls, he hadn’t thought about it before but if he was being honest he felt the same as Luke. 

“That might be what you want,” Alex says quietly, “But anytime I watch you play it’s clear that music is what you need.” 

“I’m afraid if we don’t work out I’m going to lose you and the band and then I’m left with nothing.” Luke is honest. 

“That would never happen,” Alex insists, “No matter what happens between us, we will always have each others back.” 

“I know but what if the break up is messy?” Luke panics, “And when do we tell Bobby and Reggie?” 

“You really took that twenty-five percent of my anxiety thing quite literal,” Alex tries to be lighthearted but it wasn’t working. 

Silence becomes them, both teens sport sad expressions they point at the ground. They knew what was coming. 

Finally Alex speaks up with a shaky voice, “We have to break up don’t we?” 

“I don’t want to.” Luke buries his head in his lap. 

Alex scoots forward and reaches for Luke’s arms that are still linked around his knees. Alex gives him a soothing stroke. “Hey, it makes sense, it’s okay.” 

“I wish it didn’t.” Luke is muffled as he talks into his lap and there’s lump forming in his throat. 

Alex tugs at the other boys arm asking for him to look up again. Luke listens and raises his head again, tears soaking his cheeks.

“I never understood in movies why people broke up when they still cared about each other,” Alex’s says fighting his own tears, “I finally get it.” 

“I know in my bones that Sunset Curve and our music is something special,” Luke wipes at his damp cheeks. “But this feels like something special too.” 

“It is.” Alex nods, “It always has been, long before you kissed me, Luke and long after. That I’m sure of.” 

“Why aren’t you more scared about all of this?” Luke questions like Alex had that first night in the park. 

“Maybe the ‘everything’s going to be okay’ dream bubble rubbed off on me.” Alex curls the corner of his mouth into a slight smile, “Thank you for that.” 

“Well reality is a real ass kicker so thanks,” Luke says sarcastically and they both manage a weak chuckle which was a little croaky as they both were crying at this point. 

“Promise you’re not breaking up with me because you only dated me to prove you were okay with me being gay?” Alex asks seriously and Luke was bewildered, “Kidding,” Alex breaks with a smile and Luke manages a soft laugh too. 

“We’ll always have this summer, right?” Alex smiles weakly. 

“We’ll always have each other.” Luke says with such a raw sincerity in his voice and Alex truly believed his statement to be true. 

“I’m going to miss holding your uniquely slimy palms.” Alex jokes. 

“Just take me to another scary movie and I’m your man.” Luke smiles and he was starting to feel better about things. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to freak out?” 

Alex felt like he knew exactly what Luke was going to say and he wanted to also but he didn’t want to make things harder. “Some things can’t be unheard.” 

“I know.” Luke nods and he knew if he told Alex that he loved him it might undo the breakup they only just managed to get through so he decides to keep it to himself instead he holds Alex’s stare and says, “You’re my best friend, Alex.” 

Alex smiles softly and he knew what Luke really meant and when he says, “You’re my best friend too,” Luke knew what Alex truly meant. 

The break up wasn’t easy by any means but the two of them both knew in their hearts it was the right thing to do and they found comfort in knowing that their friendship was only stronger because of the summer romance they shared. 

25 year later 

After their gig at the Orpheum with Julie, where she might have saved their spirits, things were still so uncertain with what this all meant. 

Luke asks Alex to go to the park with him. They both poof their way over and sit on the roundabout. The park had changed a lot in 25 years but their trusty roundabout remained. 

Alex is rambling about how crazy it is that they hugged Julie and Luke listens with a smile. 

“Julie can feel us!” Alex finally slows down, “This is good news for you right?”

“I don’t know.” Luke gets shy. 

“Hey, I’m happy for you too, you know?” Alex wears a sweet smile. 

“It seems like we only broke up a couple of months ago.” Luke says. 

“I know.” Alex nods, “But weirdly I feel like I have 25 years worth of closure.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Luke agrees. Their breakup really did feel completely resolved. 

“Want to see who can last the longest?” Alex challenges, “I don’t think ghosts can throw up because I’ve been trying to stress heave since we left that dark room and nothing.” 

Luke laughs at his friend and for the first time since dying he let himself reflect on his past relationship with Alex and he appreciated how normal their friendship is. 

“Hey Alex, if I tell you something, do you promise not to freak out?” Luke questions and Alex had heard this once before and stoped Luke from going any further but tonight was different. 

“Yeah, I promise.” Alex was still wondering where this was going. 

“You know now since we’re dead you were technically the love of my life.” Luke kicks Alex’s foot with his own. 

Alex’s smile is soft and genuine, but still he jokes, “Technically? How romantic.” Luke laughs and Alex adds more seriously “Of all the things in my life, being the love of yours was my favourite.” 

“Thanks for not freaking out.” Luke grins. 

Alex shrugs a single shoulder, “Maybe if I didn’t feel the same way it would have been a lot scarier.” 

Two smiley ghosts sit in a park happy to have shared the summer of 95. 

THE END. 

☀ ☀ ☀

End Notes: This be the end my friends! Thanks so much for making it to the end of my story! If you’ve stuck with me since part one or you’re finding this later and read the whole thing - I appreciate you!!!! 

I was going to split this into two chapters because it's long but I though nahhhh screw it! Hahaha hope that's okay. 

Just an added not about Bright and how I made it Alex's song. I like to think that in episode 2 after Alex asks Julie about the music program he tells Luke he should give her the song because it helped him when he needed it most and he wanted that for Julie :))))))))))))))

Thanks so much for taking the time out of your life to read my work! Leave me a comment if you wish, I appreciate any feedback :) Xxx

[flatfootmonster]

Vita Nova; Mortem Nova

Eiji.

I don’t know whether I’ll ever get the chance to confess. I’d come to a point where I thought the words would remain within. There was no hope I’d have a chance to tell you, let alone that you’d believe it—accept me. Yet things are changing and I can’t idly watch so easily. Not that watching you has ever been easy. The further away I was, the simpler it seemed; when you looked two dimensional it wasn’t hard to impose happiness on the picture. 

But I thought it would be simple for you. I didn’t think my love was worth its weight, I thought you’d lay it to rest. And you should have, Eiji.

The longer I stare at the puzzle, the fewer things make sense. I’d reassured myself what I’d chosen was the right path for so long. I fed myself enough hand-picked information to reaffirm myself when self-doubt and loneliness shook me. Now there’s nothing to be done about the uncertainty that has spread like weeds the last two years, pervaded my mind like worms should have riddled my body.

If I come to you, bear myself and confess, how would you take it? You would have every reason to loathe me, and right now you still love my memory.  Do I have enough courage to change that tide? Can I put my ego to one side and allow you what you need? Choice.

I know it’s selfish. 

The longer I’m at this impasses, gaze locked on your every move, the more I’m reminded of the nights I’d watch you sleep. It was hard to wake you but harder to join you in that wistful never-world. I felt better observing that vigil, knowing you were safe in a realm no one could touch you. History repeats. And here I am, making it about myself, again. 

I still watch you sleep some night, Ejii. Would you hate me for that? 

Do you know what you’re getting yourself into? You must. You said I was smarter than you, stronger, but you got that wrong. I was raised in a way to know things, to catch on quickly and adapt, and use everything within my grasp as a tool to claw myself out of hell. If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have survived. But, without any experience, you naturally grasped nuance, you would observe, and then tread carefully even if you knew you walked into danger. And that’s where you’re heading now—you must know it. Yet I see no caution in your path. Why are you so careless?

So, I worry and I watch and I want to call out but I can’t. Can I? 

I drifted for you to survive, let you fly away uninhibited by my dead-weight. I thought it was what you needed. And now it’s like you’re free-falling into the same hell I drowned within. I have no idea if you packed a parachute. Did you forget how to fly, Eiji? Are you testing your wings? 

The cracks of uncertainty beneath my feet widen and all of my anxiety, all of my concern, has only ever been for you. Those words sound so empty but I’d prove it. Would you accept my hand if I held it out to you? How can I stop you, short of holding you back? You never let me back then, you’re not likely to accept my arms as protection now. Still, I can’t not do anything.

I wonder what I’d look like to you? Would you see a stranger in my skin? I don’t want to ruin your dreams, yet I don’t want to see them turn to nightmares, overrun by forces bigger than you. Don’t lose yourself in the world that shaped and killed me. Everything I tried to save you from, you’re running towards with open arms. 

I’ve changed. I’m not the man you knew, and I realise it’s the same for you. I’ve watched you close off and build walls—even with Sing. No man is an island, Eiji, that’s what you tried to show me. Why won’t you hear your own words? In the least, you have Buddy. I always imagined you as a cat person, but at least you have him. He’s a good mutt, and it was just like the Eiji I knew to save him like you did. I feed him sometimes when you’re gone. Have you noticed his favourite spot by the window? And, yes, that’s selfish, too, needing to bond to the one thing close to you.There’s no excuse I just couldn’t help myself.

I have no right to come back—I know that. But I’m not sure you’re giving me a choice, exactly how I never gave you a choice. The tables have turned. If I have to choose between the ghost you still love and your safety, it will be your safety—your life—that wins every single last time. 

I pray there is a plan and that you have a safety net invisible to my eyes. These people you’re playing, they are monstrous. You of all people know that. In those depths you’re wading are beasts bigger than you or me, and you won’t see them before they have you, before they pull you down. They’ll engulf you without a second thought. It’ll be for nothing then; this veil I held between us; this peace that I thought I’d given to you with the murder of myself. I’m beginning to realise my delusions.

Part of me is desperate that these thoughts stay here, on this page, never straying beyond anything more than ink and tears. It’ll be the last resort if I come back to life, no one will win if we come to that. Eiji, please live. For your own sake, fly. I shattered you once, I can’t do it again.

My soul has always been with you. 

It will always be with you.

Ash

[bestworstcase]

more than once you've said "the tts fandom can't write x character, or can't write y character," but have you considered that maybe they can write them fine, you've just built up your desired interpretations of these characters? you give off this condescending attitude, like ONLY YOU can write tts characters accurately, ONLY YOU understand them, & any interpretations that don't in some way align with what you think are WRONG. this has become more apparent as you've worked through bitter snow

let’s discuss king frederic, and how he is often characterized in fanworks vs how he is characterized in the show. 

now... i think we can all agree that frederic is at best a mediocre father and a not especially good king, that in his worst moments he steps over the line into emotional abuse vis a vis his treatment of rapunzel, and that the avoidant head-in-the-sand approach he takes to the black rock problem in s1 causes widespread pain, unnecessary panic, and does not improve the situation whatsoever. 

he is widely disliked in the fandom for very good reason

however! it is difficult, though hardly impossible, to find fic where frederic acts or speaks... like frederic, for one very simple reason: the fandom, by and large, as a group, writes frederic as an angry, abusive man who blows up when he is confronted with the many, many things he does wrong. often this takes the form of a character, or characters, getting up in front of him and rattling off his list of crimes, real or perceived, followed by him basically throwing a tantrum.

canon frederic, to put it bluntly, does not do that. 

exhibit a: caine’s confrontation of frederic in before ever after.

caine sets up exactly the scenario that in the average tts fanfic would end with frederic yelling / blustering / furiously denying the accusations, plus she does it while rounding up all his guests and putting them in cage to haul them off and, presumably, kill them somewhere. like. the stakes are life or death and this is an extremely stressful situation for everyone involved.

and this is how that conversation goes down: 

FRED: Release my guests immediately!

CAINE: What’s the matter, Fred? Am I ruining your perfect day?

RAPUNZEL: ...The Duchess?

CAINE: Oh, honey. I am no Duchess.

RAPUNZEL: I don’t understand.

CAINE: Of course you wouldn’t, Rapunzel, but try to follow along. This is all your fault.

RAPUNZEL: What?!

CAINE: You see, after your untimely... disappearance, your father locked up every criminal in the kingdom... including a simple petty thief. My father. I saw him thrown into a cage and hauled off like some animal, never to be seen again. So... I thought I’d come back, and return the favor. 

[the wagon rolls in]

CAINE: Load ‘em up, boys! Your turn, Your Majesty. 

[Frederic moves to shield Rapunzel; Caine snickers.]

CAINE: Oh, come on, you didn’t think we’d leave our prized pig in the pen, did you?

RAPUNZEL: [as Caine’s gang drags Frederic toward the wagon] Dad—

FREDERIC: Rapunzel, stay back. 

RAPUNZEL: But—

FREDERIC: No. There’s nothing you can do. As your father and your king, I command you to stay put. 

there are two key points that i want to make here, because they diverge significantly from the way frederic is characterized in analogous scenarios in fanfics, like, 90% of the time. 

1) fred doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t bluster or yell. he orders caine to release his guests, and when she refuses, he gets quiet. he does not interrupt caine’s rant, he does not even try to deny her accusations, and he doesn’t stomp around escalating the situation even while caine is prancing around waving a sword in his daughter’s face or literally poking him in the chest. 

he stays calm. 

2) fred’s primary, overriding concern is for rapunzel’s safety, and the safety of his guests. not his own. he does not struggle when caine’s men lead him away. he protests on behalf of his guests, but not himself, and he attempts to physically shield rapunzel from harm before he is dragged away. he doesn’t waste his breath trying to argue with caine, but he does tell rapunzel firmly not to put herself in danger trying to rescue him. 

now... there are plenty of ways to interpret why frederic behaves this way, and my personal take is certainly not the only possible one. but the behavior itself, the staying calm in the face of a crisis, while someone is in his face threatening him, his family, and his guests and making pretty charged accusation, is a) objectively playing out on the screen and b) directly at odds with the way frederic most often acts in fanfics. 

exhibit b: mood-swapped frederic blows up just like fanon frederic constantly does

and this is the only time we ever see frederic lose his temper like this in the entire series. again, this is not a matter of interpretation: this is just plainly what happens on the screen. when he is in his right mind, frederic is not a “scream accusations, whip out a sword, and impulsively declare war or attack someone because he’s mad” sort of person, and to say that he is really like that, deep down, is just as silly as trying to argue that cass really is a peppy, soft-hearted, affectionate pushover, or that eugene really is too riddled-with self-doubt and anxiety to make any decisions, or that rapunzel really is a grouchy, moody, misanthropic person. the mood potion makes everyone act like fundamentally different versions of themselves; their behavior is, literally, out of character for their normal, not high-off-their-asses-on-a-magical-potion selves. 

exhibit c: the angry mob in secrets of the sundrop

like with caine, this confrontation kicks off with a premise that should be pretty familiar to anyone who reads any fic featuring frederic at all, ie everybody is pissed at frederic and there is literally an enraged mob screaming for justice in the throne room. and that goes like this:

[everybody shouting in angry panic]

FREDERIC: People... [raising his voice to be heard] Citizens, please! Listen to me!

[Max rears and whinnies to get everyone’s attention, and the shouting dwindles away.]

FREDERIC: I will not lie to you any longer. Corona is in grave danger. The queen has been taken; over half our royal guard lie wounded; and these black rocks draw ever closer.

[the shouting begins to pick up again]

EUGENE: Uh, sir, hi, yeah—if there’s a ‘but’ in this speech, you probably want to cut to it right now. 

FREDERIC: But I look at you, and I don’t just see subjects. I see friends, family; strong, brave individuals who have stood by each other, side-by-side, and have never, ever backed down from a fight! Today, we face a danger like none before. As your king, your friend, and as your brother, I ask you to fight one more time. For Corona!

again, key points: 

1) frederic does not deny, bluster, shout down, or otherwise attempt to refute the basic point that he bungled the black rock situation. he did bungle it, and he knows that [this scene is preceded by him spelling out the full extent of his failures to rapunzel and openly admitting guilt]. through his behavior, he demonstrates that he accepts culpability for the situation and implicitly accepts the legitimacy of the crowd’s anger. 

2) he raises his voice only so he can be heard above the shouting, and as soon as folks quiet down, he drops to a reasonable volume again. his mood is grim, but he isn’t angry. he projects calm. 

3) eugene is nervous about frederic losing control of the crowd and accidentally causing a riot or something; frederic is not. 

4) instead of denying the crowd’s anger, frederic tries to reframe the problem for them: yes, things are bad, but they are strong and brave and we can all work together to put things right. he doesn’t shout them down; he seeks to inspire them. 

and 5) when frederic says “we face a danger,” he means that. the very next thing he does after giving this speech is go straight to the frontlines to fight in the same battle he’s asking everyone else to join in. he's not asking them to do anything he isn’t willing to do himself. 

which... i would argue even more than the caine confrontation in BEA, is diametrically opposed to the way the typical fanon frederic would respond to an angry mob situation, because the typical fanon frederic is a very angry, aggressive man, and that... simply isn’t who frederic is. he’s calm, he’s knows how to work a crowd, he knows how to use his authority to achieve his goals without browbeating or threatening. 

even when he does get angry—such as his instinctive reaction to arianna’s kidnapping, when he jumps first to “we will invade old corona”—he doesn’t yell or stomp around or throw tantrum. he gets stiff and rather cold and makes an impulsive judgment call... but then he takes some time to brood by himself, calms down, talks things out with rapunzel, admits his failures, and doesn’t follow through with the impulsive order he made in the heat of the moment. 

like... flat out, he is not an angry man.

and it’s frustrating, when i go to read fanfic and frederic is overwhelmingly characterized as this hapless angry shouty abusive person, because it is breathtakingly far removed from how he acts in canon, and i like frederic as a character. i find him very interesting, and it’s not fun to read fics where everything that makes him interesting is taken away and replaced with this sort of one-note Shouty Angry King/Bad Dad Whom Everyone Hates. and that applies, unfortunately, to a very large number of the types of fics i like to read (namely, long canon exploratory or canon divergent fics, etc)

anyway,

i am perfectly happy to read interpretations of the tts characters that do not mesh well, or are even wholly incompatible with, my own. 

but i do expect, as a minimum, characters to behave more or less the way they behave in canon unless there is a clear reason for them to be different. i expect varian to be nerdy and chaotic and a bit of a disaster, for example. i expect adira to be aloof, blunt, and perhaps a touch arrogant. i expect cassandra to be ambitious and frustrated and prone to self-sabotage and envy. i expect lance to be laid back and eugene to be a bit vain. i expect the captain to be gruff and very tight-laced. and i expect frederic to act like a politician who is in control of his feelings but sort of cowardly at heart, because that’s how frederic acts in the show. 

i hold myself to these standards too. a ton of my editing process is “hm does this character really talk like this? is this how they would react to this situation?” and then going through and rewatching scenes or whole episodes and trying to find roughly analogous emotional beats or situations to sort of gauge whether i’m hitting the mark or not; it’s very difficult and i work hard on it and do not always succeed... and this does make me a bit picky about characterization in fics i’m reading, yeah, because it’s... always at the forefront of my mind. and then yes i post about it here, because this is the hyperfixation landfill where i dump my tts-adjacent thoughts. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

of course, you’re welcome to unfollow me if you do not enjoy reading what i post. it’s important to curate an online experience that you enjoy! if my general demeanor irritates you, you don’t need to inflict yourself with it.

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

"Don't Look at Me, I'm Sick!"

Author's Note:

So, I know no one will believe me but I've been working at this for a month 😂 I swear my intention was not at all COVID-19 related, but rather from a random prompt I found online somewhere! The prompt is bolded. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Summary: Y/N has the flu, and who better to save her than a friendly, neighborhood Spiderman?

Warnings: None? I guess descriptions of the flu if that counts!

Word Count: 4,068, because I have no self-control 😂

A painful, chest heaving cough racked through my body, leaving my stomach muscles feeling sore and my chest burning. I flopped back into my cocoon of pillows and blankets with a sigh. Nothing like a bad case of the flu to remind me of just how hopelessly inadequate my non-existent abs were. 

What had started as a small tickle in the back of my throat yesterday had mutated into a full-blown flu. Not just any flu either. No, this was the 'every symptom you could possibly think of, oh my god am I dying?' kind of flu. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck, and if my mom was any indication, it was a safe bet I looked it too. She’d poked her head in my doorway for a solid 10 seconds before dialing the school attendance line and informing them that I wouldn’t be there. She left for work not long after, shouting at me to keep drinking fluids and to take some Tylenol. Since then I’d been drifting in and out of consciousness all morning, waking only long enough to either cough or sneeze my guts out. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear I had the actual plague. 

My phone had been buzzing on and off all morning, but in my fever-riddled, sleep deprived state, I elected to ignore it in favor of more sleep. The buzzing reached a fever pitch sometime in the mid-morning before it mercifully stopped. I sighed again, flopping over to my stomach and snuggling my sweaty head deeper into my pillow. I huddled the overwhelming number of blankets around my shivering form like a safety net as I idly wondered how far away the medicine cabinet could possibly be. Realistically, it was all of 6 feet away, but just the suggestion of having to move my body was enough to make my muscles feel like mush. I groaned, flopping uselessly around my bed as I internally weighed the pros and cons of getting up to grab some Tylenol. 

I was so wrapped up in my mental battle that I didn't hear the distinct 'thwip!' coming from the fire escape outside my bedroom window. Normally I'd hear the sound no matter how loud the music was in my headphones or how fast asleep I was. I guess it was more of a feeling I got, a low hum of excitement deep in my belly that alerted me than a sound really, but regardless I was completely oblivious at the moment. I also missed the practiced, rhythmic taps on my window due to the sneezing fit that overtook me and the subsequent rush to rummage around my sheets for any non-crumpled tissues. 

"Y/N?!" 

A slightly panicked voice was the sound that finally broke me out of my illness induced haze. I yelped loudly and, reacting out of pure instinct, flung the first thing within reach at the intruder. Unfortunately for me the closest thing to me was a near-empty box of tissues, and based on the lack of thump that followed I don't think it even hit my intended target. It was hard to say for sure though because immediately after my feeble attack I dove deeper into my cocoon, covering myself completely with the mountain of blankets. 

“What the FUCK!” I exclaimed. Though I wish that my voice sounded strong and threatening, the shock rippling through me coupled with the way my nasal passages were currently blocked and the muffling effect of the blankets covering my face made my fierce roar sound more like a surprised squeak. 

"Whoa whoa whoa!" the voice placated quickly. "Y/N, it's just me!"

The familiar tenor tones of my intruder began to seep into my sick brain like a cloud of smoke. I frowned unconsciously as my mind worked in overtime to try and place the voice with a face. I winced for a moment, the sudden onset of thought enough to send a stabbing pain shooting behind my eyes and leave a throbbing, dull ache in its wake. My brain whirred on for an embarrassing amount of time before the recognition hit me like a truck. 

"Peter?" I questioned humbly, peeking my eyes out from the blankets just enough to see. I blinked quickly and fought against the dizzying pain that overtook my brain against the onslaught of light. 

Standing over near my opened bedroom window was my adorable, if sheepish looking, boyfriend. His face was wrought with a look of pure anxiety --  big brown eyes practically swimming with worry and normally sweet features all contorted downward. The messy brown curls I loved were stuck tight to his sweaty forehead, and he clutched his Spidey mask tightly in his right fist. He wasn't wearing his suit, so he must've thrown on only the mask before making his way over. Even in my post-panic/flu-induced fog I felt a touch of irritation at his recklessness. 

"It's just me, sorry," he apologized breathlessly with one hand still outstretched appeasingly towards me. "I just...you weren't at school and you weren't answering your phone and I got worried."

Guilt flooded my already-churning stomach at his gentle admission. That explained the incessant buzzing of my phone this morning. Of course Peter was worried, the boy literally could not stop worrying over everything. And to be fair, he had much more reason to than most. I silently cursed myself for forgetting to text him and tell him I wouldn’t be at school. I opened my mouth to apologize just as another realization filtered into my brain. 

I screeched. 

Not a normal screech either. This was a gross, nasal-sounding cry of sheer terror that I could tell made Peter flinch from all the way across the room. I dove even more quickly into the mountain of blankets and pillows than I had back when I was pretty sure I was going to be murdered. 

“What?! Y/N what’s wrong?” Peter exclaimed, clearly still a bit panicked over everything. I couldn’t hear him walking over, but I felt my bed dip under his weight as he near-instantly was at the edge of the mattress. The blankets shifted and I could tell he was attempting to pull back one of the many covers that I’d engulfed myself in. I huffed, twisting my body deeper into the tangle of sheets and rolled so away from my poor boyfriend that I almost fell off the bed entirely. 

“Y/N?” Peter questioned, tone laced with concern and confusion. 

“Don’t look at me!” I shouted. Or as close to shouting as I could muster through the scratchy, dry rasp that was my voice currently. “I'm sick!" 

There was a long pause before Peter's sweet chuckle sounded outside the confines of my cocoon. 

"Yeah I kinda figured that out," he laughed. I couldn't see his face, for obvious reasons, but I even so I could tell it held his wide, genuine smile. As if to punctuate my point further, another dizzying coughing spell came over me and bent over as I proceeded to cough all but my actual guts out. 

"Oh, Y/N/N," Peter murmured sympathetically. I felt his hands rest on the blanket again as if he were going to pull it away and I jerked away from the contact once again. "Hey? Why are you hiding?"

"Because I'm sick," I grumbled defensively. "I don't want you to see me like this!"

Peter clicked his tongue in disbelief. 

"Come on," he whined. "You know I couldn't care less about that!"

He could try all he wanted, but there was no way I was going to face him at the moment. I hadn't taken a good look at myself yet today, but I was certain I looked like a half-dead pile of garbage. I could feel the way my hair was matted and knotted from all the tossing and turning, my nose felt like it was on fire from all the snot pouring out of it, there was a dry spot on my chin that I was certain was leftover drool, and to top it all off I could practically feel the crushing weight of the bags from under my eyes. I crossed my arms petulantly from the confines of my blankets, not caring that he couldn't see my small act of stubbornness. 

I heard Peter sigh from his place beside me, and the weight on the bed shifted until I could feel him sitting right next to me. 

"Y/N, you know that I think you're the prettiest girl I've ever met, right?" he questioned softly from beside me. My face flushed wildly at the implication, although I don't think he would've been able to tell even if he could see my face due to the raging fever I was sure to have. Butterflies silently began to flutter in my tummy. I hummed in nonchalant agreement, unable to trust my voice at the moment. 

"Well you are. You're the prettiest, funniest, smartest, cutest, and most stubborn girl I know", he replied firmly, putting unnecessary emphasis on the last bit. "And seeing you when you're sick isn't going to change any of that."

I grumbled lowly, silently feeling my resolve weaken but unwilling to concede just yet. Peter evidently took my silence to mean he was getting through to me and began talking once more. 

"I was really worried you know?" he continued casually. "When you weren't at school today, I mean. I thought something bad might've happened..."

The same feeling of guilt from earlier came crawling back to me and began to weigh heavily within my already sore chest at his admission. His voice sounded like he was desperately trying to sound unaffected, but I could hear the remnants of the fear and panic he'd felt this morning. The guilt intensified and ran it's way up my body and rested into my eyes and throat, burning them with unshed tears begging to be let out. 

I cautiously peeked out from the blankets, still covering everything but my eyes from Peter's vision. He smiled at the small victory -- that perfectly crooked and adorable smile that never failed to make my heart melt and my knees feel weak. I smiled back, although it quickly drooped into a frown when I realized he couldn't see it. 

"I won't stay if you don't want me to," he stated plainly while looking down at his lap. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I want nothing more than to be here with you and take care of you -- actually that's not true I just want you to feel better, regardless-- but what I mean is I won't if you don't want me to."

I giggled lightly at his near-incoherent babbling, causing his eyes to snap back up to my blanket-covered face and his face to break out into another one of those smiles I loved so much. I sighed indecisively. 

"You're sure you're not going to, like, freak out, right?" I questioned cautiously. Peter shook his head quickly, brown curls flying wildly around his face. 

"Positive." he affirmed. 

"And you swear that you aren't going to, like, take off running? Or, more likely, swinging?" I clarified. I was being purposely exaggerative, but underneath my sarcastic facade there was a part of me that was very much scared. Scared that Peter, the absolute best guy I knew and the person I relied most heavily on, would be disgusted with my illness-riddled self. Peter frowned, a look of genuine distress overtaking his features. 

"I would never." he vowed incredulously. I searched his handsome face silently as I contemplated. 

Finally, after several long moments of deliberation, I sighed in defeat and slowly pulled the blankets away from the rest of my face. Peter just looked on encouragingly as my dramatic ass took its time, a tiny proud smile playing on his lips. 

"There's my pretty girl," he cooed soothingly as I finally detangled my upper body out of the mass of bedding. I shot him a look of pure annoyance which only seemed to fuel his glee further. He chuckled lightly, pulling my overheated and yet somehow still shivering form to his chest. I willingly allowed him to pull me into the comfort of his embrace, suddenly feeling too tired and weak to protest further. 

Peter's arms were my favorite place to be. Hands down. I'd discovered long ago that his chest provided the perfect pillow: it was soft, yet firm, warm, but not too hot, and smelled like the perfect mixture of his body wash, laundry detergent, and his natural scent. Also not to be taken for granted was the way his strong arms instantly wound around me whenever we cuddled. Being in his arms never failed to make me feel safe and protected. I sighed contently, rubbing my tired and throbbing head deeper into his embrace. He rubbed small circles into my aching back, voice crooning in my ears with unintelligible words of affection. 

"Still the prettiest girl I know," he declared fondly. I lifted my head just enough to look at his face, a display of near-herculean effort on my part, and shot him the most incredulous look I could muster. 

"You're a dork," I grumbled lightly, tucking my fever-and-blush tinged red cheeks back into the comfort of his chest. I felt my makeshift pillow vibrate as a chuckle followed. 

"Yeah. But I'm your dork," he replied cheekily. I hummed in agreement, too tired to argue back.

 I dropped my head further into my own chest as I was unexpectedly hit with another wave of uncontrolled hacking. I could feel Peter's arms rubbing against my back as I did, and after all was said and done I winced at the rush of pain through my head, throat, and lungs. He tsked sympathetically before asking when the last time I took any pain meds was. Unable to find my voice I simply shook my head stubbornly. 

I grumbled incoherently as Peter gently removed me from his arms, unhappy at the loss of contact. He chuckled once more before promising to return quickly as he strode out of my bedroom door. I groaned childishly before my body decided that now would be an awesome time to make me sneeze any and all phlegm that had built up in my nasal passageways. 

I sneezed violently for what felt like hours -- by the end tears were streaming down my face and there weren't enough balled up tissues in my vicinity to stop the flow of snot running from my poor, sore nose. I plopped back onto the pillows, completely worn out and miserable. 

Almost like he could sense my discomfort (and I'm sure if anyone could, it was him) Peter rushed back into my room, arms full. He placed a litany of items unceremoniously onto my comforter before silently handing me a glass of water and a few pills. 

I gratefully accepted, sitting up slightly to take them. The cool water against my burning, scratchy throat felt simultaneously painful and relieving at once. Peter smiled encouragingly, taking the half empty glass back and placing it on my nightstand. Next he pulled out a damp washcloth and motioned for me to lean back once more. Curiosity overtaking me, I complied. 

Ever the sweetest boy I knew, Peter began lightly wiping my overheated face with the cool cloth. I let out a moan of appreciation that I was certain was going to embarrass me later if Peter's reddened cheeks were any indication. Currently, however, I couldn't have cared less if I tried. The cooling feeling spreading across my sweaty, fever ravaged skin was almost hypnotic. I closed my eyes and leaned into the cloth as he methodically maneuvered it around my face.

"S-sorry if it's too cold," Peter's nervous voice interrupted my near-trance. I opened my eyes to see his adorable face very close to mine, expression full of concern. "I can stop now,"

"Why though?" I whined. "I was enjoying that!"

Peter's face turned bright red once more, face turning downwards briefly to hide his wide smile. 

"I'm glad," he replied bashfully. "But you're kind of starting to really shiver, so I think we should stop for now,"

He tossed the rag expertly across the room, landing it neatly on the back of my chair without even really looking. I rolled my eyes. 

"Show-off."  

He just grinned. 

“Okay, I also brought you more tissues, some cough drops, some cold medicine, your laptop, some new blankets...”. 

Peter’s voice changed completely, dropping down to a more serious tone as he waved his hands over each item as he explained. I felt tears start to collect in my eyes, wholly touched at the sheer sweetness of his thoughtfulness. I was trying to come up with a response as the tears began to drop down my face in big, fat droplets when Peter took note of my emotional state. His eyes went wide with worry -- he instantly shuffled closer to me and wrapped scooped me up, blankets and all. His arms wound around my body tightly as he placed me on his lap and his cheek rested lightly against the crown of my head.

"Hey, hey," he soothed quietly. "You're okay, I'm here. What hurts sweet girl?"

I chuckled breathlessly at his response, thoroughly enamored with his protective concern for my well-being. 

"I'm okay Petey, nothing hurts," I mumbled quickly. The throbbing of my head and ache in my chest immediately flared at my words, clearly enraged to have been downplayed like that. I grimaced. 

"Okay that's a lie -- everything hurts," I amended begrudgingly. "But that's not why I'm crying."

He pulled his head back just enough to look me in the eyes, expression riddled with confusion. 

“I just -- you’re so --,” I struggled to put the way I was feeling into words. Peter waited patiently, concern-filled eyes never leaving my face. 

“I just love you,” I murmured finally, looking deeply into Peter’s eyes. “Like, a lot.” 

His face softened immediately and his cheeks filled with the gorgeous pink blush that I adored as he gazed lovingly down at me. I felt time stop, the way it always seemed to when he looked at me like that. I held my breath, captivated by the proximity of my very handsome boyfriend and the feeling of his arms wound so tightly around me. 

“I love you too,” he whispered softly, face bowing down towards my own until I could feel his breath fanning against my lips. I felt my brain short-circuit for the millionth time this morning, though this time it wasn’t fever-related. Peter’s face drifted closer and closer to my lips at what seemed like a glacial pace. Just as our lips were about to connect, a thought ran through my mind, clear as a bell, and I jerked backwards so suddenly I fell off Peter’s lap and into a heap on the floor. 

“Oh my god! Y/N, are you okay?!”

Peter hurriedly picked me up and placed me gingerly back on my bed. I chuckled breathlessly, still a little dazed from the close encounter. 

“What the hell was that?” he questioned incredulously. 

“You can’t kiss me! You’ll get sick!”

Peter looked stunned. 

“You -- you’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned, body flopping backwards onto my bed momentarily before he sat back up and looked me straight in the face. “You’re joking, right?”

I crossed my arms stubbornly against my chest and stared defiently at him. He studied my expression for a beat before he sighed and flopped onto his back once more. I giggled at his frustration, and he sat up once more to shoot me an exasperated look. Then, his eyes lit up with a mischievous look and he grinned at me. 

“You know, I haven’t been sick once since I got bit,” he mentioned nonchalantly. I raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. “I don’t even think I can get sick anymore honestly.”

“Nice try Spiderling,” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not chancing it. Queens needs you.”

“Yeah but I need you,” he whined. “I can’t go a whole day without affection, I’ll die!”

I snorted. 

“Nice try Tinkerbell,” I chuckled. Peter’s pout deepened. “Aww, don’t do that. You know it’s for your own good!” 

Peter stuck out his bottom lip childishly. 

“Alright, alright, you win,” he grumbled. “But cuddles are non-negotiable! I will literally die without them.”

I smiled widely at his response, scooching up to the head of the bed with him and allowing him to pull me into his chest once more. He fiddled with my laptop for a few moments and not long after I was drifting off on his shoulder as our favorite movie played. One of his hands was splayed across my back, trapping me against him (as if I’d ever want to move) and the other was tangled in the messy hair against my head. I was fading, falling into sleep steadily. 

“Mmmmm Petey,” I breathed softly. “Love you.”

I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I felt him smile against my hair. 

“I love you too sweet girl,” he whispered. I raised my head tentatively, eyes closed and lips searching his cheeks for their favorite spot. I felt Peter’s breath hitch, and his face dip down towards mine just slightly. “Thought you were worried about getting me sick.”

I set my mouth in a pout. 

“But you said you can’t get sick, right?” I mumbled hopefully. Peter chuckled, the vibrations from his chest tickling my cheek.

"Thought you weren't gonna chance it?" he questioned breathlessly. "Q-queens needs me."

"I need you," I whined. He chuckled again, the deep timbre sending shivers down my spine. 

"Well, I can't let you down now can I?" he whispered playfully before finally connecting his thin lips to mine. 

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

The rest of my illness went by like an insane fever dream. Peter stuck by my side like glue the entire time, taking care of me like the sweet boy he is and spending the majority of the time entangled with me on my bed as we watched wayyy too much Netflix. The times he left were brief -- just long enough to convince my mom and his aunt that he was still sleeping back at his apartment. 

I was finally back in school, feeling refreshed and eager to be out in the world once more. I walked over to Peter's locker, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek and waving hello to MJ and Ned. His ears and cheeks flushed pink at the display and I grinned with pride. Ned just smiled while MJ rolled her eyes fondly. 

"Someone's glad to be back," she quipped dryly. I laughed, carding my fingers through Peter's as we all began to walk down the hall. 

"I actually am," I replied cheerily. "I'm as surprised as you are."

As we walked Ned began filling me in on everything I'd missed while I was out. I listened to him chat excitedly about Flash's new car and the change in the Decathalon team's lineup with amusement, wholly happy to be back to my normal routine. My mood was broken suddenly as I felt the fine hairs on the back of Peter's arm stand straight up from the spot where our arms brushed together. I looked up at him anxiously, wondering what could be lurking in our midst that sent his senses off.

Peter looked as baffled as I did. His eyes scanned the halls furiously, searching for the source of the danger. The two of us slowed to a complete stop in the middle of the hall. 

Ever perceptive, MJ eyed Peter and I suspiciously before bluntly asking what was wrong. Ned turned and looked on curiously after he finally noticed that no one was following him anymore. I glanced at Peter, unsure of what to say. He cleared his throat nervously.

"I dunno, I just got this really weird--"

He started to explain, but part way in he paused and let out the biggest sneeze I'd ever heard. And that's coming from a girl that just spent the last 4 days coughing and sneezing like it was her job. MJ and Ned chuckled knowingly as Peter just stared at me, utterly bewildered. I couldn't help but giggle at the incredulous look on his face before smiling sheepishly at my poor boyfriend.

"I did warn you!"

[reveriequill-rai]

New Story!--Midnight Coma

A/N: This is an older story written during my newspaper club last year shortly before the pandemic. 

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

My parents always said I was a resilient child. 

So they weren’t surprised when I took a bowling ball to the head when a fight broke out at our local arcade a couple of months ago--and seemed to be just fine, save for the massive bruise that formed on my head. 

I did still end up in the hospital for about a week, but other than that I was fine. I still felt lightheaded at times, and I passed out quite a bit, so my parents decided to homeschool me to limit the risk of my head trauma getting worse. There were too many things at school that would pose as a hazard to me...especially the stairs. 

Being an only child, spending a lot of time at home was…rather boring. Sure, there were the huge stacks of RPGs and fighting games I got for Christmas, but the bright lights and flashing would probably make my frequent headaches even worse. So I mostly took to reading mystery novels and drawing when I wasn’t doing schoolwork. It was a welcome distraction from the previous night’s horrible dreams and sleep paralysis. 

Getting a good night’s rest was nearly impossible nowadays; I was tormented endlessly by sleep paralysis and recurring dreams. I couldn’t go a single night without dealing with either of them, or both. Some nights, I’d find myself frozen in bed, trying to force myself to move with no avail. I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t cry out for help; I just struggled endlessly to free myself from whatever was holding me down, feeling the warm tears falling down my face as I wept in silence. Sometimes my sleep paralysis lasted for over an hour. Before my parents homeschooled me, I ended up missing the bus because of it. 

Other nights, I actually could move...and I kind of had to. I’d find myself in that same dark alleyway, knowing what was to come and dreading it every time. I would walk around aimlessly, waiting, until he finally showed up. 

Those heavy footsteps, the chill in the air that my dream tormentor always carried with him. Those black, tattered clothes, his black gloves, his huge hood that held an empty void where his face was supposed to be. He would just stay there for about a minute or so—I counted—before bursting into a sprint towards me. I couldn’t fight him, I couldn’t reason with him, all I could do was run as fast as I could and scream, hoping some dream god could hear me. This faceless killer always carried with him a razor edged knife that was curved just slightly, and though I’ve yet to feel it pierce my skin, just thinking about how it would feel sent shivers down my spine. 

When I did eventually wake up, I found myself in tears. I just wanted it to be over. I just wanted to go to sleep. Whenever I asked my parents for help, they just told me to “look up a solution, ”or “just try to sleep.”

And I did.

I always did.

I never stopped trying.

And I never stopped failing.

But I had enough. There had to be something I could do. It had gotten so bad to the point where I started seeing him at the foot of my bed for split seconds at a time, trying to stab me, until I blinked or screamed or looked away. 

Fortunately, I did have one person to confide in: my good friend Quinn, who claimed to be a witch. One morning, after yet another run-in with the shadowy killer, I sent him a text:

“Can you come over?” 

Immediately, I saw that he read my message. And so I waited. Two minutes later, I heard a knocking on my window. I turned to see the wild-haired, freckled witch boy stumbling through the window as I opened it, landing on my floor.

“I see you’ve called on my services once again,” the witch boy said, putting his hat on as he sat cross-legged on the floor.

I nodded. “It’s gotten worse. He’s started showing up in real life, too.” 

“Like, you’ve seen him around?” Quinn asked. 

“No. He’s shown up right beside my bed, sometimes even stabbing me.” 

“Well, not really stabbing you, now, right?” 

“No…at least I don’t think so.” My hand instinctively moved toward my abdomen, where I would often find the blade just inches from me before I woke up. “But during these nights, when I woke up…I could feel a slight stinging sensation right here.” I gestured toward my abdomen. “I...also found a bruise there earlier today.”

“How strange…” Quinn said. “I suppose he’s finally caught up to you.” 

“Caught up to me? How?” I asked, worried.

He gave me a solemn smile. 

“It’s as I suspected. He’s a dream demon.” He opened his purse and flipped open to a page in his homemade spell book, then showed it to me. “Creatures of the night that only attack a victim while they’re sleeping. Yours just happened to be strong enough to reach the waking world…and I can only think of a few that can do that.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. Did I really have a dream demon?

“Is it gonna hurt me?” I asked. 

“Well, considering that little bruise…” Quinn sucked in his breath. 

“...there has to be some way to get rid of it. Right?” 

“Yeah. But you’re not gonna like it. Fighting a dream demon requires one to arm themselves mentally, and, to an extent, physically. The way I see it, you’re at an advantage and disadvantage simultaneously. Your greatest weakness is your greatest strength. And you may fear it, but the truth is, you will have to accept it eventually. Especially in a case like this, you don’t have much of a choice.”

I felt my face contort into an expression of confusion. As always, Quinn’s riddles had caught me off guard. I read his own expression, hoping he would give me some kind of clue, but that slight smile stayed on his face. 

Finally, I had come to realize what he meant. Quinn and I had talked for so long that I was somewhat accustomed to the kind of magic that he gets up to. I was then, at least, familiar with the “solution” he had in mind.   

Astral projection…

Quinn first told me about it a little while ago. I won’t lie, the ability to project one’s soul out of their body sounded awesome...except it required the body being completely still in order to pull it off. 

In other words, I would have to enter sleep paralysis. 

In other words, I had to do the exact thing that led me straight to my supposed dream demon. 

“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting…” I said, “Then absolutely not. Astral projection is way too risky for me. Look what damage he’s done to me already! I might as well just slap a sign on me that says ‘hey! I’m helpless! Come kill me!’ This plan is completely counterproductive! Are you out of your mind?!” 

Quinn let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Oh come on,” he said. “I promise you, it won’t be so bad. You just have to trust me. Besides, I’ve been doing this longer than you have. Your whole sleep paralysis problem is going to make astral projection a lot easier. Like I said--your greatest weakness is your greatest strength.”

It was my turn to let out a shaky sigh, one heavy with anxiety. 

“Very well.” I sat on the floor in front of him, legs crossed, ready to listen, like a kindergartener. “What do I need to do?” 

“Finally come to your senses, hm?” Quinn gave me another sly smile. “Lovely. Now, listen closely. I don’t have much time, so I can only say this once. The instructions are as follows...”

—————

Quinn’s instructions stuck with me that whole night.

I was to lay completely still and ignore any itching or weird sensations. It took a bit of time, and the itching and weird sensations were agonizing, but eventually I entered sleep paralysis. 

I thought about moving my right hand, but kept it still. Then I moved up my arm, willing myself to move it up and fight against the physical restrictions I had placed on it. This went on for several, unsuccessful minutes, until finally…I felt my arm move, as if it actually was. But my physical arm lay still. Then, I moved on to my left hand and repeated the process. Then my head, both legs, and gradually…I lifted myself up from my bed, leaving my body behind. 

For a moment, it felt like I was still in bed, then I looked back—or down, rather—to find myself lying in bed, eyes shut. It reminded me all too much of an open casket funeral, and my stomach dropped just looking at me.

My stomach dropped further when I realized I was floating.

The very air around me felt like an ocean, and I frantically flailed around trying to find any sort of ground. When I tried to hang onto the edge of my bed, my hand phased right through. 

Just fly over to the ground! I thought to myself. This should be easy!

But it wasn’t. The weightlessness was jarring; I flailed around desperately in the darkness looking for something to cling onto. It didn’t help that I felt so vulnerable without the fleshy cocoon that was my body. The sensation of someone—something—trying to pull me away, was ceaseless. The room around me felt larger as I continued my desperate flailing, like any sort of anchor I could use—my bookshelves, the foot of my bed, my chair, the windowsill—just got further and further away. 

I kicked my legs out, trying to force my body to go upright, until I finally managed to jerk myself upright. Confident in my position, I landed my feet on the ground, praying I wouldn’t slip under the floor. 

To my surprise, my feet landed on the floor without slipping through. 

I didn’t begin to question how I managed to stay on the second floor; I was too busy reeling from the probably-too-long process of trying to steady myself. Now all I had to do was wait and see if that faceless terror decided to come for me again. 

And so I waited.

And waited. 

It had been several minutes with nothing happening. Surely some outside force was causing my sleep paralysis? Where was it? If I had managed to pull off a feat like, oh, I dunno, forcing my spirit out of my body, then nothing was impossible at this point…

Right? 

Finally, I gave up and decided that I was probably better off getting myself out of this state of paralysis. I stood on the edge of the bed, right where my feet were, turned around, and fell back on top of my body, hoping to be jolted awake by the sudden return of my spirit—

And fell through the bed instead, stopping myself just in time before I fell through the first floor, too. I looked around and, after taking a minute to process everything in the dark, came to the conclusion that I was in my living room. Annoyed, I drifted back towards my staircase, intending to go back and try again—when I felt something grab me as I turned the corner. I was pulled back into the living room, and found myself face-to-face with a familiar figure…

…the same black-clad, faceless, knife-wielding killer from my dreams. 

You know how some people say that if you stare into the void long enough, the void stares back at you? Well, this void smiled at me, a cruel, triumphant smile that only grew as it saw the absolute terror on my face as I felt the cold steel against my neck; as if it could just feel the overwhelming despair within me that only continued to eat at any hope of me getting out of this situation alive. 

“Who...are you?” I whimpered. “What the hell do you want from me?”

My dream demon gave no response. It didn’t do anything, in fact. As panicked as I was, I started to at least regain my senses when I noticed that this thing was almost completely still. It didn’t even look like it was breathing. 

Was it actually frozen? Or was it toying with me?

Either way, I wouldn’t let this be the end. 

One last chase, I decided. One last chase. I’ve already outran it several times. What was one more?

I immediately broke off into a sprint, pushing my hooded tormentor’s arm that held the knife away as I stumbled on my way out the door. Being incorporeal, I at least had the advantage of being able to phase through the locked door instead of opening it. The feeling of phasing through solid was much more jarring than I could handle, and I continued to stumble a bit as I ran far, far away from the house. I could barely feel my transparent feet hitting the concrete, or the tree branch that would’ve smacked me right in the face after I ran into it. I couldn’t even feel the wind on my face, though I’m not sure if this came from being too overwhelmed with terror or a side effect of being incorporeal. 

The only thing I did feel, however, was the constant, incessant dread of my accursed stalker barely even a foot away from me. I didn’t want to turn around, I begged myself not to look, trying and failing to comfort myself with the lie that the killer wasn’t as close as I thought it was, there was no way, no human can run that fast. The even more obvious lie, of course, was that this was another dream, and even if it does catch up and strike me, I would wake up back in my bed, back in my body.

Finally, I caved and turned around, only to find myself facing that sinister void once more. I screamed, tripping and collapsing to the floor face-down. I turned back up to face my attacker, who was innocently holding its knife behind its back--no, that wasn’t a knife anymore, I noted. It had somehow grown longer than the razor-edged knife it had before, and I could now see the end of the blade from behind the void-faced freak’s back. It had now surpassed the length of a dagger, or maybe just bordering on the edge of being the length of a shortsword. 

I could only crawl away from my tormentor as I struggled to stand back up. As I pushed myself off the ground and back on my feet, my stomach dropped when I realized my feet were no longer touching the floor. Though I tried desperately to get myself back on the ground, remembering how jarring the feeling of floating had been the first time, I realized that my would-be killer couldn’t possibly be far, and I should take advantage of this new ability. I willed myself forward, pushing through the air like it was an ocean, and then did the same going upwards, up past a nearby three-story house. 

I was flying, I realized with awe and wonder, which was quickly cut short when I saw my tormentor climbing up the same house. Part of me wanted to warn the neighbors inside, but every other bit of me just wanted to make sure I actually survived this nightmare. 

I flew back to my house, phasing through trees and powerlines and a bit of scaffolding, until at last I nearly missed my own home. Spotting my room on the second story, I phased through the window and back into my bedroom. It was still dark in my room, but I made out the shape of a body in the darkness. 

But...it wasn’t my body. 

At least, I didn’t think it was. It looked too weak; some bits of hair had fallen out, I looked like I lost a noticeable amount of weight, and when I looked closer at my face, it didn’t look like me at all. I looked much more pale, my lips were extremely dry, and I could make out the color of an old and large bruise that covered over a third of my forehead. Suddenly, I felt my stomach drop when I realized what was so familiar about how my body looked.

I looked dead.

That’s when I felt a cold breeze come in through the same window, and turned around to find my void-faced, black-clad killer raising a giant onyx scythe towards me. I found myself unable to move, unable to fly away. I just stood there, paralyzed with terror, looking dead in the eyes at the same monster that faced every soul at the end of their lives, no matter how much they begged for mercy.

Its giant scythe, its black clothing…this wasn’t a demon, was it? 

No. It was something worse. People dealt with this thing more frequently than demons, yet this walking void carried with it more terror, more despair, more ruin than any demonic creature could even dream of. My parents always said I was a resilient child, yet my resolve shattered in the face of this monster. I stood in front of it, weeping silently.

“Please,” I begged. And I continued to beg, begging it to let me hold on, like I’ve been doing for so long, begging it to please not take me away.

But it didn’t listen. It never listened. My “resilience” may have made me feel special, but right now I was no different from everyone else—standing in front of this monster, pleading for their lives, never receiving an answer.

And so, like everyone else, all I did was stand there as its onyx scythe tore through my soul, letting out one final silent scream as I felt my very being, and the remnants of my resolve, fall apart. 

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