#god that sounds so dramatic but I was made so responsible for the wellbeing of people around me for so long

[winterstaryu]

I said something that could have been interpreted as mean literally 3 days ago and I still can't stop thinking about it

[thatfanficstuff]

Make Me Forget (Part 1) - Elijah Mikaelson

Pairing: Elijah x reader

Warnings: angst

A/N: Celebration Summer #8. There is a part 2 to this so don't fret. Prompt is Person A gets injured Person B is not happy.

wc: 1759

***

Elijah Mikaelson and his family had left Mystic Falls to move to New Orleans months ago. And they’d left you behind in the process. After he swore to you that you’d never have to be alone again, he’d left you with little more than a letter telling you it was for the best. Associating with his family was dangerous. He couldn’t put you in danger. It would be better if you forgot about him. All of them.

What a load of shit. Elijah had swept into your life and turned everything upside down. For the first time you were a priority to someone other than yourself. It didn’t take long for him to become the center of your universe. You moved into the house and became part of the family. Klaus and you would create art and bitch about the Scooby gang. Rebekah took you shopping. Kol would try to get you into trouble while you tried to keep him out of it. And you succeeded for the most part. You’d kept him from getting killed by Jeremy and Elena. Surely, that was enough to cement your place in the family.

But they’d still left you. And it had been Elijah’s doing according to the rest of them. You texted and called and they told you how much they hated leaving you behind but Elijah had put his foot down. Threatened to leave them all if they went against his wishes.

Rebekah did admit it was dangerous at the moment. A bit of trouble with a pregnant werewolf and some witches. She still insisted it would be better with you there. That they’d all protect you.

Klaus begged you to come to his rescue. Elijah and the werewolf would be the death of him, he swore.

Kol just missed his friend. He spent hours talking about all the things the two of you could do if you were there.

Elijah was silent. There hadn’t been one answered phone call or response to any of your texts.

Rebekah swore he missed you. That he was a miserable bastard without you.

Klaus and he had argued terribly when the hybrid threatened to fetch you from Mystic Falls and bring you home where you belonged. Elijah had yelled and destroyed half the room.

Kol said when there was a moment of peace, Elijah sat alone and stared at a picture of you. “I caught him crying, Y/N. It was horrible,” he told you, dramatically.

You didn’t necessarily believe any of them. After all, he found it so easy to leave you, why would he brood over your absence. But you missed your family. You were going to New Orleans. Even if Elijah was angry with you for going against his wishes, the rest of them would welcome you with open arms. You’d just have to stand your ground with the suited Original.

There were probably a thousand better ways to get to New Orleans, but you took a bus. It was cheap and you didn’t have to drive. And even better, it didn’t involve flying. You hated to fly. You stepped off the bus and adjusted your backpack on your shoulder. You’d decided to travel light. While you intended to stay forever, you weren’t sure everyone else would be on board with that. If you did stay, you knew Rebekah would be more than happy to take you shopping to replace your clothes. And Klaus would pay for them if Elijah didn’t. It used to bother you when they spent their money on you, but you’d long gotten over it.

After typing in the address on your phone, you started to follow the walking directions. You were actually quite close to your destination when you were yanked into an alley. Almost before you had a chance to process what had happened, teeth tore into your neck. Son of a bitch. You fumbled in your bag as the vampire drank deeply. Your fingers wrapped around your stake and you slammed it into the asshole attacking you. He hissed in pain and stumbled back giving you the chance to pull it out and stab him again with more precision.

He collapsed at your feet and you stepped over him as you pulled a rag from your bag. You pressed it against the wound and tried to look inconspicuous as you stumbled the rest of the way to your family. Your head spun as you reached the door and you knocked quickly.

The door flew open to reveal none other than Kol Mikaelson. He grinned at seeing you, but it faded immediately when he noticed the state you were in. He grabbed your bag in one hand and placed the other on your arm to lead you into the house. “What happened to you, Darling?”

You made a sound of annoyance. “Guess.”

“Don’t be cheeky.” He dropped your bag by the stairs and continued to steer you through the house. “Brothers, we have a visitor,” he said when the two of you reached a library. Nik and Elijah’s heads snapped in your direction.

Nik stood in front of you in a flash. “Bloody hell, love. Can’t stay out of trouble for five minutes, can you?” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s good to see you at any rate. Come, Kol.” The hybrid strode from the room, dragging his protesting brother along with him.

A moment later, Elijah stood in front of you. Dark eyes stared at you as he lifted a hand to your neck. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he pulled the rag away to get a view of the damage. His hand clenched at his side and you flinched. He’d never hurt you, but it was rare to see him so angry. And you weren’t certain if he was angrier at the vampire that attacked you or you for being there.

His lips pursed as he stared at you a moment longer, then he bit into his wrist and offered it to you. You drank enough to heal then stepped back. He strode away to the far side of the room. Keeping his back to you, he hooked one hand around the back of his neck and rested the other on his hip. “What were you thinking coming here? Did I not make myself perfectly clear that you are not welcome here?”

“I missed you.” God, did that reasoning sound pathetic to you now. How had you ever thought that would be enough for him?

He was back in front of you in a flash. “You deliberately went against my wishes. You followed us here despite knowing I did not want you here and look what happened. Do I need to say anything else to prove my point that it is too dangerous for you to be near us?”

“This had nothing to do with you, Elijah. This was some random asshole vampire picking the wrong person to snack on. I killed him for it.” Frankly, you didn’t understand how he could go from being madly in love with you to not wanting you around overnight. “Everyone else wanted me to come. Didn’t you miss me at all?”

“How could I miss someone that cares nothing for their own wellbeing?” he stated quietly, making you flinch again. It would have been better for him to yell. At least then you’d know he was simply angry with you. His monotone delivery made you believe that he simply didn’t care. Tears instantly flooded your eyes. Why had you asked that question when you were so afraid of the answer? He stepped past you and stopped at the door. “You can stay the night. Tomorrow you leave New Orleans and you will not return,” he said in a low tone. Then he was gone.

You didn’t move as tears streamed down your face. Vaguely you were aware of Elijah and Nik yelling at each other elsewhere in the house, though you couldn’t make out the words. Then you were pulled into a firm chest as arms wrapped around you. “Elijah’s an idiot, darling,” Kol whispered to you.

When you just continued to cry without saying anything, he swept you up in his arms and carried you to one of the chairs. He sat and placed you on his lap. You leaned against his chest and he played with your hair in an attempt to calm you. “It will be all right, Y/N. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. You and I can get an apartment on the other side of town. We’ll put it in your name and you can tell Elijah to fuck off when he wants in.”

That pulled a laugh out of you though it sounded rather pathetic. “At least I know why it was so easy for him to leave now. I mean, what a bother I must have been. I always wondered what he saw in me and now I know. Nothing. God, you’d think it would be a relief to finally know, right? So why does it hurt so bad?”

“As angry as I am with my brother right now, Y/N, I don’t think—”

“No. It’s okay, Kol.” You sat up and wiped the tears from your cheeks. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore. Rebekah said him and the wolf seemed to be getting along. Maybe he’ll love her and it won’t be a lie.”

You stood and held up a hand to stop him when he moved to follow. “I’m not angry with you, Kol, but I need to figure out how to live without all of you. See, he told me he loved me and that he’d never leave me. That I’d never be alone again and he abandoned me at the first opportunity. And he took my family with him. And when I come back to all of you, he made it very clear that I am not wanted. I was prepared for him to be angry. I wasn’t prepared for him to not care.”

You paced the floor as you thought about your next step. Kol’s dark eyes followed you. He was at a loss at what to do, how to comfort you. He could beat the shit out of his brother but, while that might make him feel better, he doubted it would help you any. Suddenly, you snapped around to face him. “Compel me.”

His brows shot up. “What?”

“Compel me to forget. Just let me forget all of you.”

[vanderlindemorgans]

Cross My Heart (Chapter 5)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings: one scene takes place in a hospital, some medical talk, more heavy drinking, talk of death and alcoholism (specifically related to drunk driving), mentions of drug addiction, Whiskey being a dick, lotta heavy topics in general.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

“Alright, so the X-Rays have come back and as you can probably already guess your left arm has been fractured”.

The news hadn’t been a shock to you at all - it was only logical that the result of being thrown off the back of a horse was your arm breaking from the impact of the fall, nevermind the sheer amount of pain that it had already caused you was even more indication that something was definitely wrong there. All things considered, it still wasn’t a pleasant piece of news to receive, causing you to let out a low groan as you settled back into the hospital gurney they had allocated to you after the ambulance had pulled you in. Dressed in only a hospital gown, you felt the chill from the room's air conditioning prick the edges of your skin, the coolness of temperature making the whole experience even more foreign to you. Of course, it wasn’t like you’d never been to a hospital before - an unlucky bout of croup had sent you to the emergency room as a little kid when you’d almost stopped breathing. At the resurgence of that particular memory you felt yourself shudder, recalling the hours spent passed out in a brightly lit room and being forced to drink gross tasting liquid that was meant to clear up your airways. At least you weren’t choking on your own breath this time round. 

“Well that’s just fantastic. How long will it take to heal? I kinda got a ranch to run” you asked the doctor, who was standing off to the side consulting the clipboard nestled against his arm. Sighing, he looked up at you with a look of sympathy while he ran through the information he’d jotted down on his notes. “Usually it takes twelve weeks for fractures to heal - given the fact that a good part of your arm has been displaced you’ll need to be put into surgery to shift the bone back into place, which we’ll have scheduled for you in the next twenty-four hours. Afterwards, I’ll be putting you in a cast for a couple of weeks and you’ll have to come back in for checkups weekly. I’ll also give you a list of rehabilitation exercises you can do to ensure the recovery process goes as smoothly as possible” he explained. “After your surgery and subsequent discharge, I heavily recommend a few days bed rest due to the concussion you have sustained”.  

“So I’m guessing most physical labour is out then” you muttered under your breath, sighing once you realized how heavily this would impact your ability to keep things running smoothly back at the ranch. Yes, you had employees but without you to oversee everything things would slow down and descend into madness real quickly. You wished you had allocated some sort of second in command for times like this, a manager of sorts to keep things in place while you recovered but you’d just never gotten around to it, brushing the thought aside every time it sprung up with a simple “Why would I need extra help anyway? Nothing ever happens around here”. 

“You’d be correct on that. Now, I have some other patients to check on but I will be back in about 20 minutes or so to prep you for surgery, though I will send a nurse to give you some painkillers so you can stop feeling the worst of the pain for at least a little while” he replied. You went to thank him but before you could you felt a light touch graze along your right arm. Your eyes glanced over to where Jack’s hand was placed, his touch delicate and comforting, sparking that same feeling in your chest that you’d felt when he’d stroked your forehead back at the ranch. His eyes met your own for a moment, deep cedar brown looking at you with nothing more than concern and worry, somehow pulling at a single string of your heart even though you wanted to fight against it with all your might.

Snapping you focus back into place, you nodded back over to the doctor and thanked him for all he was doing, listening to his reassurances that he’d have you fixed up as soon as possible as he hurried on out of the room to his next patient in need. Once he was gone, you exhaled in annoyance and went back to staring aimlessly at the ceiling, mulling over the inconvenience of your predicament. 

“Everything ok, sugar?” you heard Jack ask you, feeling his enchanting eyes study your expression, his anxiety over your wellbeing plain as day. Letting out a small laugh, you returned his question with a small smile of your own. “Does it look like I’m ok?” you joked, gesturing vaguely to your fractured arm. 

He chuckled at your sarcasm, always enjoying that certain fire you had to your character that refused to silence itself. Unbeknownst to you, that was one of things that drew him towards you in the first place - his own air of cockiness and confidence was equally matched by your spitfire and sarcastic wit. Finding out the sweet disposition that lay behind that harshness the first time round had taken him by complete surprise, but only did more to endear himself to you. God, he was such a fool for losing that. He was certain that your sweetness was still there, closed behind even more layers of hurt and pain that he’d caused such a large hand in. 

From the moment the ambulance had arrived, Jack had stayed beside you, refusing to leave for even a single moment. It was quite endearing, truth be told, a feeling that attempted to worm its way through your steadfast reasoning against him. He’s a liar. Don’t fall for his shit again, you repeated to yourself. Though it was becoming harder and harder to continue regarding him as your greatest mistake when he was behaving so kindly and gentlemanly towards you. Just a part of his deceptive charm, I guess, you thought bitterly. 

“Y’know, you don’t have to worry about things gettin’ outta hand down at the ranch. I’m more than happy to step up and help” he spoke up, snapping your attention back to his words and out of your own contemplation. You thought about his proposal for a minute, the temptation to say yes seeming very appealing towards you, though somehow that felt like admitting to weakness. The ranch wasn’t his responsibility, it was yours, left to you by your dear parents. It was your obligation to run it in their stead - there’d been difficulties along the way, sure, including the occasional nasty cold every now and then but you had pulled through without any trouble. You didn’t need help or any sort of handout, and you were more than capable of taking care of business by yourself, even with a broken arm.

Then again, it is gonna be kinda hard to run a business while being confined to bed rest. Briefly you thought about just closing the ranch for a couple of days while you got back on track yet once you thought about the loss in profits you discarded that idea quickly. It wasn’t like you were struggling to make ends meet but a dip in profits could cause a bit of issue. 

“Yeah but...It’s my responsibility. I can’t just ignore that because I got a stupid broken arm” you rebuffed, though you didn’t sound entirely convinced of what you were saying yourself. Sadly, stubbornness was your nature and even if you knew you were fighting a losing battle, sometimes it was more about the principle of having a position rather than whatever thing you were debating over. Some would say that was quite a counterproductive way to look at things, and you’d agree with them, yet you still remained stubborn in spite of them, feeding back into the cycle.  

“Darlin’, with all due respect, I think what’s best for you is that you take a step back and let someone else take the reins. You need to allow yourself to rest a lil. Tell me, in all the years of runnin’ the ranch by yourself, have you ever once taken a day off?”. 

“No, but-”.

“Exactly as I thought. You’ve been doing an amazing job at keeping things together for all these years, sweetheart, but you gotta relax a bit. Let me help you” he interrupted, gazing at you with those heart-meltingly sweet eyes of his, a look which made you seize up ever so slightly in minor fake annoyance. Little shit, he had to be doing that on purpose.

“Fine, only if it’ll get you to shut up” you relented, rolling your eyes in a dramatic fashion and hitting your head back down into the pillow below, eliciting a playful smirk from him in return. “That’s my girl, stubborn as always” he jested. 

To that you cocked an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “Your girl? Careful there, Jack, for a minute I thought you were capable of genuine compassion and care. I may have once been your girl, cowboy, but not anymore. Or did you happen to forget?”. 

His own expression softened slightly in regards to your snide remark, his mischievous grin faltering while he turned his gaze to the floor, looking somewhat sheepish towards what you had said, a far cry from his usual air of arrogance. “Yeah, I guess I deserve that” he murmured. “Tell me, sugar, do you ever think one day you’ll believe me when I say that I’m sorry?”. 

“When pigs fly, dearest” you smiled with a shit-eating grin, though you couldn’t miss that momentary flash of hurt in his eyes that made you pull back, a sharp pang striking through your chest that hurt harder than the agonizing ache in your arm, which really, was saying something. Could that be...guilt, perhaps?, you thought, searching Jack’s face for any further sign of offense. If he was feeling hurt, he was doing a pretty stellar job at hiding it. Maybe it was nothing, and even if he was hurt, well, he said it himself, he deserved it. Without giving you another minute to ponder your own feelings, a welcome interruption in the arrival of a nurse found you, shifting your thoughts towards the relief of finally getting some painkillers into you. 

___

The surgery had gone over well, and after a grueling day spent hanging out in that hospital room hopped up on painkillers you were finally discharged late afternoon the following day. The worst of your concussion had cleared itself up too yet you were still confined to your bed for those first few days - the doctor was insistent on that fact, saying you could never be too careful. You’d begrudgingly complied, not wanting to cause any further problems to your health, and even if you had tried to go against the doctor’s orders, you knew that Jack would be there to send you off back to bed if you dared lift a finger. 

Jack had doted on you the entire time, making sure you were well hydrated and cool enough in the midst of the hot Texas summer, fetching you snacks and whatever else you needed from downstairs. In his own words, what kind of man would he be if he didn’t take care of an ailing woman. You’d rolled your eyes and insisted that he didn’t have to go all out with looking after you yet he’d insisted. It was somewhat heartwarming, and it felt nice to be taken care of again after those last few years alone. It reminded you of when you’d come down with the flu back in third grade, staying home in bed lazily watching television and barely being able to keep your eyes open while your mum made soup in the kitchen. You could feel your heart drop at the mere recollection of your parents, pain that stayed beneath the surface rising up in full force. Usually you pushed those feelings down, not wanting to become distracted from the business, but today, you allowed yourself the indulgence of missing them. What would they think if they could see you now? Would they be proud, or disappointed? 

Feeling your stomach grumble, you shifted over in bed and reached your only good arm out to grab onto the half-eaten grilled cheese Jack had brought in for you five minutes before, letting out a low wince at the pain that writhed through your other arm, which had been placed into a cast and sling for the time being. Already you couldn’t wait for the day you could get the damned thing taken off - you hadn’t been able to shower and you felt grotty and gross. It wasn’t like you had to impress anyone, it was just you and Jack lying about the place. Still, you could only take so many days of waking up with unwashed greasy hair. And it was itchy too. Oh dear god, it was fucking itchy. You’d heard about how itchy the plaster could get second-hand but you never anticipated it to be that bad. 

Directing your eyes to the clock on your bedside, you took notice of the time and let out a small relieved sigh. You could finally take another one of those painkillers, the fourth and dismally last one for you of the day. 

Your relief quickly fizzled out into disappointment when you realised the packet of painkillers that had been sitting by your bedside was empty. “Seriously? It’s only been a few days, I couldn’t have gone through them already…” you muttered to yourself in annoyance. Nevermind, there was another packet downstairs. You may have been perfectly capable of getting out of bed and retrieving it yourself, though you found yourself not wanting to be bothered with such a task. “Hey Jack, you there? I ran out of painkillers, could ya run some up to me?” you called out.

“Sure thing, sweetheart” you heard him shout back, and no more than two minutes later he was striding through your bedroom door, carrying exactly what you had requested within his palms. “How are you feelin’?” he asked. 

“No better than six minutes ago when you last asked me that. Thanks for bringing these up though, fuck that stupid horse for bucking me off” you grumbled, sniping the blessed white packet out of his hands and into your fingers. “Pain making you grumpy, sweet girl? You seem a bit more full of spitfire than usual today” he joked. 

“Nah, you’re getting the discounted version today. If I wanted to vocalise exactly what I was feeling right now you’d be obliterated in a second” you laughed, chucking a tablet into your mouth and washing it down with a large gulp of water, anxious to feel some semblance of relief. 

“You don’t say. How’s your head doing, though? No dizziness or anything like that?”. 

“I’m fine, Jack, I promise. You don’t have to fawn all over me just because I broke my dumb arm” you assured, rolling your eyes at him. 

“I wouldn’t call in fawning, I only want to make sure you're comfortable and all that. Not only because of your arm and all” he smiled gently, reaching out to brush a stray hair off your forehead. It could have been the heat of the room but you could have sworn your skin felt on fire the moment he touched you. You could feel him press the back of his fingers against your head, unconsciously allowing your breath to hitch at his touch. And just like that, the warmth of his hand was gone, leaving an invisible searing mark in its place and your own head full of frenzied and confused thoughts. 

“Like I said earlier, just call out if you need anything else, alright darlin’?” he said as he was leaving, words that you didn’t care to take notice of as he left you to yourself again. Blinking slowly, you couldn’t even fully begin to describe what had just taken place, or why one little gesture was throwing your mind into somersaults. Why did his mere touch have to affect you like that? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Groaning loudly, you settled yourself underneath the sheet covering you and huffed at nobody in particular, cursing both yourself and him for even existing. For fucks sake...

___

Taking a sip of bourbon from your glass, you leaned against the side of the stairs of the veranda with your gaze fixated off into the distance, though you didn’t take any notice of what lay ahead, lost deep in your own thoughts that clouded your mind. It’d been a couple more days, and you’d finally been able to get out of bed and get back to helping out around the ranch - not that you were still of any use to anyone, given the state of your arm. It felt good to be back overseeing things, albeit a bit more behind the scenes than you had been in years. It’d be a good month or so before you were able to move your arm properly and have things back to normal. At first that fact did nothing short of irritating you, since you weren’t one to lie about helpless when work needed to be done. Over the last few days though, seeing the ranch go about with business as usual with Jack’s extra help had put you at ease a little. It still bothered you somewhat that you had to be asking any sort of help from Jack Daniels of all people, though really, he was the one offering it in the first place so you hadn’t so much as asked him to do anything, moreso conceding to his instistance at the behest of your stubbornness. 

The pain was getting a little better too, though whether that had more to do with the painkillers or not remained to be seen. For example, you couldn’t feel anything now but you had just ingested two glasses of pure straight bourbon, so of course any type of pain would be numbed. Remember when it could numb more than just that? You let out a small snicker at the thought, sounding as hollow and empty as it felt. Once upon a time you might have been classed as relatively lightweight, a fact that changed after years of the trials and tribulations life had thrown your way. You still got drunk easy, but it took a good few glasses before you actually passed out.

“You know, you should let me sign that for ya”. 

Hearing that familiar voice ring out from behind you, you swivel around so see its owner standing right in the opened doorway of your home, his hands casually resting in his pockets and his frame leant against the wall. “What are we, in middle school? I don’t want it getting dirty” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him for good measure. 

He smirked right back at you, letting out a small snicker that mirrored your own. “Why not? It’s not like you're gonna have to be wearin’ it forever. A little scribble in permanent marker wouldn’t do ya any harm” Jack grinned, taking a large step forward to descend down to your level, seating himself right next to you on the veranda. You cocked an eyebrow at him, letting your fingertips trail over the edge of the glass in your hands while you stared at him with utter audacity. “And yet I know you’re only so persistent in signing it because you’ll write something crude or vaguely flirty” you snipped. 

“How little you think of me, sugar. I’d never dream of doin’ such a thing. I am nothing if not a gentleman”. 

“Oh, do cut the charm, Jack. What is it you want?”.

“Please, can’t a man share a glass of bourbon with a lady without being subjected to the Spanish Inquisition?” he asked, wearing his devilish and frustratingly charming grin as he spoke, the appearance of which you swore made your cheeks flush a little bit hotter. Probably because of the alcohol...and it is hot out here after all...

“Not this lady, cowboy” you stated, gulping down the last dredges of bourbon in your glass and placing it back down to the floor with a thud. You went to go grab the bottle from beside you but found Jack had already snatched it up, pouring you another glass. Mumbling out a small thank you, you considered asking him if he wants a glass of his own, however once you caught sight of his silver Statesman issued flask in his hands you dismissed the idea entirely. With nothing else left to say, you glanced back up to the sky above towards where the moon was hanging over you two, the delicate light illuminating the stretches of countryside around your property in a soft glow, one that was both enchanting and eerie at the same time. Every now and then you would be reminded of how beautiful the Texan countryside could look, whether it be bathed in the rays of that damned blistering sun or the enigmatic glimmer of moonlight. It could pull you back to moments lost in time, years ago sitting right where you were in that very same spot, seven years younger and with the exact same man sitting beside you, head rested on his shoulder and looking out into the vast expanse of midnight black. Funny how things change, don’t they?

Out the corner of your eye you saw Jack shake his head, his eyes quiet, the sparkle of stark confidence bordering on plain arrogance missing. It was a similar look to the one he’d given you at the hospital that night, before he’d tried to cover it up with a certain facade of indifference. “What will it take for you to believe I’m sorry? What happened between us, it was all-” he started before being unceremoniously cut off by your interjection. 

“In the past? I’m well aware of that. Doesn’t change how I feel” you stopped him. You’d anticipated him throwing out that line from day one and you’d come prepared. Shut it down. Don’t let him try to swindle you for a fool. 

His expression changed to one more serious, a hint of him being slightly miffed that you cut him off in the first place. “Let me finish, darlin’. I’m gonna level with you for a second - what I did to you was one of the worst mistakes of my life. Letting everything fall apart like it did, I never should have let it happen” he expressed, his tone straddling between being firm and also being gentle. Cocking an eyebrow at him, you turned back to your glass of liquor, swirling the liquid around idly in a way that reminded you of that persistent thought running round your head. Did he have a point? Were you being too harsh on him? 

Don’t become soft on him. Don’t do it. You shifted back into focus, pushing those thoughts far to the back of your tipsy mind while you took a couple large sips of liquor as if it were a lifeline. “Worse than whatever mistake led you to showing up on my doorstep?” you asked, eager to direct the conversation right back out of that uncomfortable territory and into something a bit more easier to stomach. Maybe later on you could ponder the true depths of your perceptions of Jack. Right now, though, you wanted to get wasted and not have to think about anything anymore. And hey, it’s not like I wasn’t wondering about the events that led him here in the first place anyway.“You never did tell me what happened. I know you said it was none of my concern but...I want to know. Call it a spate of drunken curiosity, if ya want”. 

The question alone was enough to draw Jack’s face from being merely serious to an expression more cold and distant. He looked away from you entirely and rested his gaze to the few steps below the two of you, his hand clenching in a subconscious act that alone was enough to tell you his own reservations regarding the topic. “Truth is, I’ve been fucking things up for a good couple of years. What happened to lead me here, well, it ain’t a pretty story”. 

“I don’t care, Jack, I wanna know” you asserted, surging with a sense of fiery confidence. It might have been the alcohol giving you a bit more moxie to push the topic. One thing was for sure though: you wanted answers, and you didn’t wanna let this go. Stretching your legs out, you finished off the glass you had while you waited for him to reply, not wanting to cave to your request even if he was looking at you like you’d threatened to kill the President. 

Finally, he let out a low groan of annoyance and leant against the side of the veranda, not affording you a single look as he launched into his tale. “Basically what happened is some agents from an English based secret service came over to the states as a last resort - their base got blown up by someone and the two guys that approached us were the only ones left alive. Well, them and this other guy we had at our headquarters, but that’s a whole other story. The people behind the attack were a group called the Golden Circle, and Statesman had already been investigating them for awhile. I was called in by Champ to partner up with the Kingsman fellas, do the regular secret agent spiel of espionage and savin’ the world and all that crap. But, me and these other agents, we had an...ideological disagreement. I was covertly tryin’ to hinder them until the older guy got wise to my shit and shot me in the head. Ginger managed to bring me in and revive me, I went over to Cambodia where the two agents were confronting the leader of the Golden Circle, and to make a long story short things got nasty pretty quickly. I barely escaped with my life” he explained.

You nodded along to his explanation, the load of information being a lot to take in the first time round. You were always somewhat aware of Jack’s position as a secret agent though you were never privy to the nitty and gritty details - in fact, the way you’d found out about it in the first place was by complete accident and Jack had to beg Agent Champ to allow you to become cleared on even knowing the basics of his true work behind the front of being a Statesman investor. “And these ideological disagreements were…?” you pushed. 

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know” he deflected.

“Try me”.

He didn’t reply to you straight away, instead staring at you with a stark look of confliction across his face, an inner turmoil brewing inside of him on whether or not he should tell you even more. Being cast out as a traitor, he didn’t have to worry about breaking any sort of rule of confidentiality, so if you had to wager a guess at what his dilemma was, then it must have been that he felt mildly ashamed, or even embarrassed about the whole situation. In your mind though, you’d let him keep his secrets for weeks now, but if he was going to stay in your house you wanted to at the bare minimum know what he did that was so bad that he simply couldn’t return back home anymore.  “Well go on then, hit me with your best shot” you prodded further, hopefully enough to get his demeanour to crack and for him to spill what exactly the entire fuss had been about. And sure enough, crack he did. 

Running a hand across his forehead, he let out a low exasperated sigh, one that would have been inaudible if you hadn’t been seated beside him, indicating the exact moment he finally decided to break his own silence and reveal everything to you. “The Golden Circle were primarily a drug cartel and terrorist organization based out in the hidden depths of the Cambodian jungle. Their leader had devised a plot that involved lacing their distribution of drugs with a new type of chemical she created that caused death. Since their supply was mass distributed over the globe, they were holding the entire populace of drug users and addicts hostage to their respective governments, demanding a payout for the antidote. They didn’t, however, anticipate the President and other world leaders not really giving a red hot shit about the lives of junkies. Being the noble men they are, the Kingsman agents as well as the rest of Statesman were striving to get ahold of the antidote to save all those people. And that, is where me and them disagreed” Jack elaborated, avoiding your gaze in what appeared to be a calculated move in order to refrain from seeing your reactions to his admittance. In the span of two minutes, your expression had shifted from intense curiosity to straight up bafflement at what he was saying. It didn’t make sense - why was he against distributing the antidote? He was a secret agent, wasn’t he meant to save the world and innocent lives and all that?

“Let me get this straight - you were assigned on a mission to try to save the lives of innocent people, and you chose...not to do that” you asked, your tone laced with judgment. Not that you had intended for what you said to have come across any different. If what he was implying was right, then that would mean...

“Well, when you put it like that, sure, it sounds awful. I will concede, it wasn’t my best move. But all the people who ingested those drugs did so willingly. They knew they were taking a gamble on their lives the moment they stuck a damn needle into their arms” Jack grumbled defensively, allowing you to gawk back at him in utter disbelief. “Jack, no, you can’t seriously believe that? So what you’re saying is that the kid that decided to get high with his mates one weekend at a party deserves to die? Is that right?”. 

“No, no, I didn’t mean like that, I just…”.

“Really? ‘Cause it sounds a lot like you’re saying that innocent people should die for their poor choices” you cut in, shaking your head to further drive your point in. “Jesus, just when I thought you couldn’t be a bigger asshole you proved me wrong”. 

“Sweetheart, please, I know. It was a mistake, you don’t have to keep rubbing it in”. 

“You know it’s a mistake, but do you truly feel it? Do you really feel remorse? Because if you don’t then it’s just a bunch of empty words” you rebuffed, shooting him with a cold piercing glare that could make an entire continent freeze over. Around about this time, you really began to take notice of the dazed feeling clouding you, every glass of liquor draining straight into your brain and making you feel like your entire head was swimming. Maybe take it easy on the next glass, why don’t ya? With that thought, you shoved the glass off to the side with your free arm and bit your lip, debating whether or not you should even say what you wanted to next. That debate, however, did not last very long as you found yourself blurting out exactly what was on your mind within two seconds of your last thought. “Jack, look...maybe I’ll hate myself for saying this later, and maybe it’s just the liquor talking but I don’t think you’re an inherently bad person. I think you’re an arrogant son of a bitch who does cruel stupid things but probably has a decent enough heart. You just...you gotta stop with this shit. Stop with the betrayals, and the lies, and the false promises, all of it, and just be the real you. The Jack I knew may be a prick but he was never one to let an innocent die on his watch. What’s really behind all this?”. 

He continued to glare from his position beside you, somewhat intent on making you recant and drop the whole subject entirely. You wouldn’t go down that easy though, and he knew it, for as stubborn as Jack was you were at least ten times moreso, so when he folded first and trained his eyes low to the ground, you knew that he’d finally conceded. You could feel a whole shift in his demeanour from where you sat, the mask of defensive anger slowly falling away to reveal what was truly underneath: hurt. Pure, raw, unbridled hurt. Anguish that felt especially familiar to you and spoke to a part of yourself that you’d been turning away from for years, and even before he said those words you knew exactly what he was going to say. 

“Years ago, before I became an agent to Statesman, I was married to the young woman I’d fallen for in high school. I think I told you about her in passing maybe once, or twice, I don’t know…” Jack started, trailing off once he began to fully re-immerse himself in the past, heartache plainly sewn across his features. It was then that you felt an ache of your own in your chest, a heavy feeling of guilt descending upon you once you realised the gravity of what he was saying. “I remember. You said her name was Lily, wasn’t it?” you murmured, your voice small and unsure, with a hint of something else present too. Regret? Guilt? Whatever it was, you couldn’t quite put a name to it, but it was there, strong as anything and clearly wasn’t going away any time soon. 

Jack let out a small hum in reply, everything about his composure presumably a million miles away from everything around the both of you.“So you do remember” he muttered, brushing his fingers over the edge of his silver flask that he had cradled in his handles, tracing the Statesman logo engraved on the side with the pad of his thumb. “I remember you askin’ me about her the first time you came back to my apartment in New York - you saw the photo of her I kept on my desk and asked who she was. I only told you briefly that she was long gone, but I never told you how. The both of us were only twenty-three, and she was pregnant with our first child, a baby boy. Last time I saw her she left the house to go to the convenience store a few streets over”. He stopped himself for a split second, the darkness of his eyes being the all-too recognisable sign of falling deep into his own recollection, feeling as if he was reliving every memory that he revisited in his mind. “Twenty minutes later I get a phone call from a cop, saying there’d been an incident. Meth addicts had robbed the store at gunpoint and she’d been caught in the crossfire. She died instantly, and I wasn’t there to say goodbye. I never got to meet our baby boy, I never got to hold her in my arms again and say how much I loved her, because she was taken from me by a couple of meth-addled scumbags”. 

You were honestly at a loss for words, not knowing if saying something would be the appropriate option or not. He was right, you knew he was married before - the time with the picture that he mentioned was the most you had heard of her. He never brought Lily up again, and you never thought to ask, since in your mind it wasn’t any of your business who Jack loved before. Now, the pieces were falling into place, the interwoven connections of his past to his actions as an agent making all the more sense to you. 

What you wanted to do most was lean forward and envelop him into your embrace, tell him that you understood more than anyone what exactly that felt like, and even permit yourself to pour out your own heart to him. Drunk as you were though, you couldn’t talk yourself into doing anything more than placing a reassuring hand on his knee, letting your touch be soft and hesitant in case he shrugged you off, since you did basically just goad him into revealing his own wounds in the name of having answers. “Jack, I...I had no idea, I-”. 

“How could you have known? I never told you” he mumbled flatly. In the dim veranda light, all though it was faint, you could swear that there was a teardrop lingering in the corner of his cedar brown eyes, nudging the dagger of guilt further into your heart. Say something, you idiot.

Starting off softly, you let your hand rest firmer on his knee, trying to catch his eyes into your own. Tearing his glance away from the flask, he looked back at you with the same raw grief that you had seen on your own face so many times. “I know it must have hurt like hell losing her. And you have every right to feel angry, and hurt that she was taken, but that doesn’t give you the right to hate. Every addict in the world is not the same man who took her life. You can’t just-” you started, before the sound of Jack’s harshest tone cut through your words like a knife. 

“How would you know? Do you have any idea what it feels like to hurt, to have lost everything because of someone else’s choices?” he spat, anger seething in his scowl that was directed solely at you. It had taken you by surprise at first - as a reflex you withdrew your hand quickly from him as if he were burnt, perplexed at his sudden outburst. That didn’t last long however, as soon enough confusion was replaced by your own flair of anger. Now it was your turn to get defensive.“I think I do know what it’s like to hurt and to lose. In case you’ve forgotten, dickhead, there’s two people who should be right inside this house that aren’t anymore and haven’t been for about six fucking years now!” you yelled back. 

Shit. He’d forgotten about your parents. The anger that had been in him disappeared without a trace right then, being replaced by something close to resembling remorse over his behaviour. “I...I didn’t mean...fuck, sugar, I…I’m sorry. I don’t even know what to say” he apologised. You didn’t say anything back to him. You didn’t want to dignify him with any sort of a response. First of all, how dare he? You were only trying to empathise with him, and here he was biting your head off for daring to suggest that he doesn't hate every drug user on the planet. Why do I even fucking bother? 

The awkward silence between you hung for awhile, the two of you not wanting to break it for your own different reasons. You could feel Jack stealing glances at you, like he was trying to talk himself into saying something but never had the courage to follow through. Huffing to yourself, you took in your next glass fast enough to make your head spin. You’d have to turn in for the night eventually, and truth be told you were considering doing so right then when you heard Jack speak up. 

“I never did ask...if you don’t mind me askin’ that is...what happened to your folks anyway?” he asked hesitantly, as if he knew the question was fat-witted to begin with. Not that you minded too much by then. Drunk you was a lot more forgiving than you were sober. 

Taking in a heavy breath, you relayed your tale of woe to him, one hand placed steady to your side to keep you sitting upright. “It was late, and they were coming back from a friend’s 50th birthday party. Their friend lived in downtown Dallas, so they had a fair way to go to get from there to here. When they were almost on the highway, an out-of-control car barrelled towards them, smashing into the front of their windscreen and killing both of them instantly. The driver of the other car had been drinking - according to the local news he was a known alcoholic and had been out having a heated argument with his friend in the passenger seat. The only survivor of the entire collision had been his friend”. 

You saw Jack blink at you in silent shock, the weight of your words falling heavily on him while he continued to process it all. “Shit, darling, I feel like an even bigger piece of shit than I already did. If you slapped me clean across the face and kicked me out on my ass after this I wouldn’t blame ya one bit” he replied to you solemnly in a way that didn’t leave you questioning the authenticity of his words - he was genuinely sorry this time round. Taking his apology in stride, you shrugged back at him  and acted as nonchalant about the whole thing as possible, not wanting to ponder the topic further. As far as you were concerned, you’d felt enough things for one day and would very much like a break from it all. 

“It’s fine. You had no way of knowing. But please, if you take anything from this, at least listen to my words: externalising hate towards random people only feeds your trauma. It doesn’t resolve anything, and the only person left suffering in the end is yourself”. 

He furrowed his brow at you, most likely feeling a little defensive that the topic had circled back around to here, but considering his unruly display of anger earlier he wasn’t one to indulge in his own instinctual need to defend his position. “But...didn’t you want the man who took your parents away to suffer? Didn’t you look at every other drunk driving incident in the papers with a little more anger and rage than before?” he asked, earning a single eyebrow raise from you in return. “I mean...I guess what I’m trying to say is...it’s so easy to hate...why didn’t you fall into that trap?”. 

“Well, I did, for a little. It was almost tempting to look at every person I saw struggling with alcoholism in red. Since the man who caused the collision was already dead as a result of his own mistakes, at times I’d externalise part of that pain I was feeling onto others, and sometimes that anger became so hot and so burning that it was almost impossible to ignore. I realised pretty quickly that hating alcoholics wasn’t going to bring my parents back and that I’d have to make peace with their passing at some point. Honestly, I still haven’t processed a lot of that shit myself yet I’m still out here living my life as best I can, and really, with my own drinking habits I’d be a goddamn hypocrite to even try to find any true hatred in my heart towards heavy drinkers” you explained. Taking one last sip of bourbon, you discarded your glass off to your side and chuckled lightheartedly. “God, If I drink another glass I’m gonna collapse on the fucking floor. Think it might be time for me to turn in for the night. At least it’s Sunday tomorrow so we can sleep in a lil”.

“Y-you’re goin’ to bed? You’re not telling me to get lost or anything?” Jack sputtered in disbelief, which in turn earned him a minorly strange look from you. “Why would I do that?” you asked. 

“I quite literally just admitted to treason against my former organization to you”. 

“So? You made a mistake. A pretty fucking big mistake, and a shitty one at that, but still, a mistake. You obviously have some of your own pain you need to work through, and I can get that. Doesn’t mean I agree with what you did, but I get it. I’m not gonna kick you to the curb just because you have issues”.Upon saying that, you hoisted yourself up by latching your free arm onto the veranda’s fenceline, stumbling a little as you fought to maintain your balance while being both drunk and unable to fully utilise one of your arms. Nevertheless, you’d managed to straighten yourself up, and once you’d determined that you were alright to take yourself upstairs you faced on towards the front door and grasped at the brass knob in your hands, taking a brief pause to turn back and nod softly towards the man behind you. “Night Jack, I’ll see ya tomorrow” you called out, leaving him to sit there and watch you disappear back into the house with a certain look of dumbfounded astonishment.

Tag list (lemme know if you wanna be added): @giselatropicana​

[sly-merlin]

killing me - 10 |n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : cursing, explanatory mention of a pistol! 

words :: 5.3k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

                   “  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: @kpop-choco​​​ @moon-yuta​​​ @kawaiiayasan​​​ @btm-taeyong​​​ @exfolitae​​​ @lanadreamie​​​ @cheersskznct​​​ @hyuckiesgf​​​ @theworld-accordingtocasey​​​  @yiyi4657​​ @sorrywonwoo​​ @sillywinnergladiator​​​ @suhweo​​​ @minejungwoo​​ @leesalts​​  @mal-nakamoto23​​ @ro2424​​

@kafenetwork​​​​​ @neowritingsnet​​​​​

K.M masterlist

k.m9    next

Previous night

“What the fuck were you spitting out there hmm! Have you lost your mind? Why aren’t you answering me you shit!”

jaehyun avoided prying when mark and yuta were arguing but he couldn’t keep it in anymore. mark shifted the gears to park the car in the middle of nowhere, tense silence hugging all of them. jaemin was annoyed with jaehyun’s endless remarks at mark but it was hyuck who was most confused as he was unable to form any kind of judgement.

“why did you stop the car now? Its midnight-

“can you stop drunk talking hyung. I can’t drive like this!”

“I’m very sober. Its you whose brain is dead mark. Did you even notice yuta’s face when you-

“just stop hyung. I’m not ashamed of what I said there. I stand by each and every word! Now can we go back home or do you have anything else?

“you can’t be real! He has done so much for you all these years and this is how you repa-

“yes exactly! He has made so many sacrifices for me all these years, that’s why its my responsibility to show him the right way that he is clearly not following at all and you all are partly responsible for it! You are feeding his selfish ego by showing him hollow sympathy but that’s gonna bite him in the ass at end.”

“woah woah tiger. So what you gonna do? Instruct him how to live his life. Are you making him realise that he doesn’t hate y/n when he clearly cant stand her presence for even a minute and by some miracle, even if you end up pacifying yuta, then what about that cold hearted queen! She’s just here t-

“she is not here on her own! And I am not going to repeat myself, so fix it in your head hyung. She is not here to replace anyone!! Yuta hyung just hates the thought of her coerced and fortuitous presence in his life and I’m not trying to create a miracle here. I just want our lives back to normal and I’ll go to every extent to make it possible!” his chest heaved up and down as the anger subsided a bit, his heart feeling at ease after getting his thoughts out. Jaehyun only scoffed at him.

“you are too naïve markie. This is not how emotions work.”

“this is the only way emotions work hyung!” with that said, he shifted the gear, driving on the road with the same silence lurking again but he felt better. much better.

“who do you think is right?” hyuck whispered in jaemin’s ear, in the hope that he would solve his dilemma.

“I don’t know but I’d love if she stays forever. We are missing one member anyway” he whispered back earning a small tight lip smile from donghyuck who fell into a deep slumber right after that.

Slowly he moved himself to the other side, bruised elbow secured in his hand, grunts exiting him. You knew you were fucked up as soon as his cold eyes fell upon you.

“I guess it’s my time to call taeyong.” He glared, the strong eye contact not lasting for too long as he tried to lift himself up from the floor.

Meanwhile you kept observing him, biting your left thumb, feet glued to the ground. your eyes followed his hobbled travel from the kitchen to the couches from where you heard his long sigh of relief as he placed his leg on the table while stroking his knee. his head fell on the couches and suddenly your conscience kicked in while watching his painful expressions. You found yourself sluggishly walking out of the kitchen with careful steps to avoid the spill, sleepiness fading away.

Yuta’s scraped elbow was in the vision as you neared him. He was still nursing his knee, elbow forgotten by now. Maybe it was the momentary pain! you deliberated about asking him first but then remembered that you don’t have to communicate with him to show that you were still human! So you quietly went to bathroom to find your first aid kit that you placed somewhere the day you settled your stuff. It was not easy to locate it with the lack of cooperation of your hands and mind in the current state, but still you tried your best.

With same motion you went back. Yuta’s hand was still cupping the knee but his features seemed to be much more peaceful than before. But you still approached hesitantly and placed the box on the table, near his foot.

“have a seat please. We have some unfinished business here beautiful!” he sneered, signalling you to sit beside him.

“no thanks. I have work to do.” You tiredly replied, moving away.

“I.Said.Sit.Here! I also wanna experience the thrill of whinning like a baby!

“oh please , I have nothing to fear! Just call him already. I’ve work to do!” you told him in stern voice while circling the table to sit far away from him.

Yuta smirked a little at your show of bravery when anyone could see right through you at the moment. Your eyes were half shut, shoulders slumped down but still upright when it came to fighting him. But yuta clearly knew he had the upper hand this time.

Or he thought!

Your heartbeat sped up with each ring. Very dramatically , yuta had put the phone on speaker to prove his point.

After 5 rings, tayeong picked up and so did your pulse.

“who it is?” a yawn filled voice was heard from the other side.

“are you still sleeping bitch?” yuta inquired with annoyance.

“ye-yes. We cleared the month last night so everyone is sleeping. What el-

“just wake up! I’ve something important to tell!”

“later. I’m bus-

“its about your precious y/n!”

“is she gone?” it sounded like he was suddenly awake!

“tsk tsk. The fuck is your problem? Do you even care about my wellbeing or should I find a new father!” yuta growled at him, his voice pierced through your ears.

“I’ll call her myself!”

“like she would tell you about her plan to lay my 6 feet under the ground!”

Yuta heard a deep sigh from the other side.

“this story better be good coz I don’t wanna lose my sleep ov-

“this is not a story. She spilled water to make me slip and –

“and kill you. what kind of man dies after a little slipping! Huh!”

“have you adopted her or something taeyong! Your attitude is fucking me up. Can you hear me for once or do you-

“what do you wanna say exactly! That you slipped and broke your legs and arms. Make it believable yuta. She might be a bit bitchy but can’t be that evil.”

“so I am a bitch!” your sleepy and cold voice interrupted.

“no no , I meant-

“It was unintentional. i didn’t even know he was home. And it was him who decided to barge in when I was finding food. He was not even invited into the kitchen in the first place!”

“but I got hurt and it was because-

“hurt? you mean as in injured! Oh god. You can’t come back then. take leave for a few days if you are hurt badly and call jun , he’ll be there with medicines and bandages. Consider this an extension of the suspension but you aren’t leaving the hous-

“fuck you taeyong! I hope you die in your sleep!!”

Slamming the phone on the table, he pulled at his roots, lidded eyes boring into you.

“you’ll pay for this.” his finger threateningly pointed towards you.

You let out a yawn before getting up to leave the space to him,

“whatever just don’t finish the spray bottle. Its new”

After that you didn’t hear anything from yuta or anyone.

And it just went like that for 2 more weeks!

“why don’t you shift to the dorms for two months! You can hang out with minjun while he complete his reports.”

“so you want me to lose my sleep and baby your baby?” you snickered, slurping the soup a bit louder this time.

“I’m not a baby!” minjun whined.

“oh you are!” a collective response resounded through the room and your reached out to pet minjun’s hair but he swatted your hand away in annoyance.

“no seriously shortie. You’d be alone for a whole month. Even chelin is going home this time. you can spend some time with junie and he’d treat you to homemade food Is it tempting enough?” jungkook suggested.

“not that I’m any interested in the offer but I can teach you the Japanese you were talking about earlier.” At minjun’s comment, everyone raised their brows, silently questioning your new interest.

“what? You all are so nosy. My new roommate is always dissing me in Japanese and I can’t answer that fucker coz I don’t understand anything he spits out at me.”

“HE?” another group chant resonated.

“why is your roommate a man?” yugyeom added.

“because he was born a man!”

“haha very funny y/n l/n. what’s his name and is he from our university?”

“his name is nakamoto yuta and no, he’s not a student. And before you enquire, he’s home only for like few hours so you don’t need to worry him being a pervert or anything.”

“where is your new residence anyway?” you almost choked at yugyeom’s sudden interruption but it confirmed your suspicion that jungkook hadn’t revealed anything yet.

“instead of me, shouldn’t you love birds be worried about the unbearable separation that’d last for a whole month. How are you gonna cope with it gyeom? Especially when yeong is going to be in Incheon and you in busan, stuck with the sweaty sports team and jungkook, who’d be slapping with you with kisses every now and then, thinking you are min-

A shove of dumpling into your mouth caused you to inhale back all the words that were supposed to leave.

“if you don’t wanna meet, then atleast call him daily after your moon internship and he can also accompany you to busan if you want.”

The colour of the air faded at the mention. Slowly, you swallowed the piece in your mouth , instantly finding a distraction to lighten the mood.

“why are these so delicious?”

Rummaging through the empty boxes, jungkook found the pamphlet and shoved it in your face which you curled into a ball and threw towards minjun, hitting him right in the face.

“yaa jun. keep it safe. We’ll order while watching movies and take keys of this house from your boyfriend,” you ordered, pointing to jungkook, “and his Netflix password and his wallet and if he allows, his car ke-

“shut your mouth love-hater!” jungkook exclaimed while stuffing your mouth with two dumplings. And everyone else just laughed at your troubled state, silently agreeing with jungkook’s statement.

What a good day to be a foodie!

Three days!

Taeil had granted you three days to de-stress yourself before you’d be joining your so called trainer for a self defence training program of two months. You wondered who could it be but it was definitely not the person you wished for! Johnny had been in france since two weeks, right from the day your exams started. He left his phone at home but he did contact you through a payphone to wish luck for exams. Since then, it’d been complete silence from the other end. You didn’t even know whether you really missed his presence or just the thought of being with someone who really showed some care for you.  

eat, tv, sleep repeat seemed to be a very reasonable routine! your happiness had elevated when you saw a notification of chois about a job opening. Though you wanted to start from an internship in the main office but a moderate salary job as an assistant researcher of a junior lawyer wasn’t so bad as well!

no. actually it was awful seeing how much over-qualified you were for this job but with all the diminishing digits in your wallet, there was some significant scope for the bargain in your situation. But you still had to wait for 2 weeks for the acceptance of your application that would take you a step closer to your dream. Just two more weeks!

Is he still alive, you thought before leaving the kitchen, ready to finish the homemade meal.

High on a happy chemical , you cooked yourself ramyeon and eggs and completed your fancy dinner with a bottle of coke.

While slipping out of the kitchen , your eyes fell on the clean sink reminding you of the presence that you hadn’t felt since the last week.

“I’ll accompany jeno. We’ll be done in two minutes” yuta proposed with a lopsided grin.

The place was more livelier with yuta’s return. Not that he wasn’t already present, but the day he returned to his usual routine was when everyone got their sunshine back. He acted like nothing has changed but still noone could ignore his overcautiousness. He was engaging too much as if to make up for the lost time and not that anyone objected for they were happy to see the old yuta with old ways. Just something was odd!

While most of them were oblivious, others understood what he was hiding behind that façade. They had noticed how he took late night activities just to avoid being sent home or how he took jaehyun and mark with him to avoid any interaction with you.

But the most irksome was how day by day,he was drifting apart from taeyong.

“do you wanna take him home?” taeil snapped his fingers in front of your eyes as you registered his words. You were looking or shamelessly staring at the face of the man. He was dangerously tall as compared to you but his face was shining brighter than the sun itself. Your head snapped towards him again as taeil went on,

“don’t stare like you are gonna eat him y/n.” jungwoo eyes were dancing in the whole room as he avoided your curious ones. You didn’t mean to be creepy but you were having a hard time believing that the man sitting in front of you was a street fight champ and a former drug lord’s son. He seemed too….human.

“who’s staring?” you feigned innocence, looking at taeil.

“way to go advocate!” he said before continuing , “as I told you, jungwoo is a trained fighter, assassin and has a strong grip on pistols. Seeing what you can carry, a pistol is best for you. and jungwoo is a softie here so he won’t even give you a scratch during the training. But you have to actually listen to him or I’ll assign someone that won’t go easy on you.

“like?”

“like ten or jeno, they both don’t have any control over where they are hitting once they start so either you can cooperate with jungwoo or be ready to break some of your limbs.”

“how subtle taeil. but I can work with him.” you smiled at jungwoo which was returned with a shy one.

“okay then. Take care of each other and if you need anything then I’m not home.” Ad with a wave , he was gone.

“what do you wanna start with?” jungwoo asked in a small voice.

“you are teacher so whatever you say.”

“okay them. we’ll start with grip practice.” He got up, signalling you to follow him.

You ended up in a small part of the basement. It was divided into two sections with a glass used as the separation. Raw grass kind hard padding was attached to the walls on the both sides. On the other side of the wall were pasted two targets looking like giant sized dart boards that you suppose were for the practice.

While you were glancing around, jungwoo came back with a small metal box. He opened it to reveal a matt black pistol that looked even smaller when he held it.

“you can’t start with a semi-auto one just yet so for basics this is good for you. though I’m here but please don’t drop it. it belongs to taeyong hyung and he doesn’t know it’s here so please don’t mention it either.” He pleaded in a soft voice to which you found yourself nodding, copying his motion.

“so , you don’t need to memorise every part of a pistol but remember the few terms so if you ever held a new gun or pistol, someone can instruct you as to the handling of it.” you kept nodded as he went on,

“this is the exposed barrel, slide stop, safety lever , trigger and trigger guard and the most important magazine, if its empty ,your body would become the home of enemy bullets. Try clicking the safety lever!”

You did as he instructed. For about thirty minutes, he taught about pulling the barrel that drained your wrists of all the strength they had. He let you go only when he was sure you won’t forget the basics, atleast not until tomorrow.

You hadn’t felt this exhausted in your life as much as you did in the last week. If Thesis research and jungwoo’s lessons were not enough then minjun’s new found love of photography was surely doing its work on your body. Who knew holding flowers and leaves for aesthetic photos was so much draining! And the time you were alone at home was spent sleeping and that too only if yuta and his gang were not screeching out their lungs, fighting with someone online with no regard for the well-being of others in the house. You knew he was aware of his actions but with zero communication, even you didn’t bother pointing him out.

But when had avoidance created peace!

12:30 p.m

As you flipped the glossy leaves of the photo album, the three humans behind that transparent film seemed to come alive, albeit in your memories. Pausing at every page, you tried to live those moments once again ,just like every year. Though you and that photo album were bound by a thread of sadness, the memories it contained made you feel immense joy that was incomparable for you.

The small album was the only memory that reminded you of the family you had once! and today was the day you’ll go to meet them again.

Busan was not that far away but the location of the graveyard added a whole hour to the already 3 hour long journey. You were supposed to meet your orphan warden at the station directly and like every year she'd be accompanying you to Busan so you could meet them. Even though you were a grown-up now , she didn't had the heart to let you go alone. So it had became a tradition.

After memorizing every picture, you got up to get ready for the long journey. Taeil had excused you for this weekend so there were no worries from his side. you rotated the doorknob to open but it didn’t budge.

You shoved your body against the door but nothing happned! Though you didn't want to rely , there was only one option left!

"yuta!" You shouted in a hope that his lazy ass would respond but silence replied instead.

"yuta! Can you hear me. I'm locked!" You tried again, both shouting and trying the knob, banged the door but none worked in your favour.

Then realisation dawned on you! Why won't he hear anything when he was right outside the room! because he didn't want to!

"yuta I swear I'm gonna kill you! let me out!"

Raking your hands through your hair, you decided to find your phone but it looked like the whole universe was conspiring against you as the phone was not in the room. you had probably left it on the kitchen counter earlier. The only communication you had was with yuta and he was not listening to you , delibrately!

Your fist met the door with all the power you could muster but only the echo was heard which fainted within few seconds.

"fuck you yuta" you mumbled dejectedly before throwing yourself on the mattress. Contempt filled your heart as you watched the fan moving endlessly and your mind grasped the reality that maybe you won't be visiting them. Not if he didn't open the door. But he couldn't lock you for years!

And whenever that door opens , you'll make sure to close it forever.

"eat slugs , haechan!" Yuta exclaimed into the microphone, killing another of haechan's Avatar in the game. He winced as haechan groaned loudly, trying to get some pity out of yuta.

Calling it a day, he teared the headphones away , the sudden silence bringing peace to his ears. Stretching his limbs, he got up but as he trudged for the kitchen, he heard a knock that didn't come from the front door.

He stopped abruptly as if to check if his mind was playing games on him but he heard it again, this time a fainted one.

His stopped in front of your room and slapped his hand against the door , checking his suspicious. Another fast and hard bang came in response and he rotated the knob to open but nothing happened. Forcing his body against the door, a metal dropping sound reached him before the door opened. Without even glancing at you, he leaned and picked up the screws that were stuck in the door hinges. But before he could show you those, you pushed him backward, releasing all the anger at once.

"what the fuck is wrong with you!" Not paying any attention to any of his words, you searched for your phone that you found on the counter and shot your warden an apologetic message. The orphan was near the station so you were sure she won't have waited for more than thirty minutes but you knew she'd have been worried for you.

Quickly working , you called taeyong while running for the main door, a confused yuta following you.

"you are home taeyong?" You asked him while wearing your shoes and exited , ignoring yuta's perplexed questions.

Yuta stood in the doorway, contemplating what the heck he had witnessed!

18:30

Taeyong jerked forward on his chair as you slammed open the door of his office and marched in. When you called earlier , he thought you were going to complain about something that yuta did but the heat of the anger radiating through your body was enough to burn his senses from a distance.

"sit and calm-

"I'm not here to witness your hospitality Lee taeyong. Relieve me of the agreement here and now. my way or your way! I don't wanna live under the same roof wi-

"why are you shouting so much?" Jaehyun interrupted ,entering the room in a swift motion. Following him were few others who might have been awakened by your outburst.

"shut up jaehyun! For once do something with your worthless life" you spit out, eyes boring into jaehyun's.

"can you atleast tell me what has happened!"

To answer taeyong , you moved forward, resting your hands on the head of a chair continued,

"yuta locked me today. My phone was outside in the kitchen. I shouted , pleaded but he didn't open the door for 5 hours. I was supposed to go to Busan but that motherfucker don't ha-

"Busan? Your hometown?" Taeyong disrupted your speech,

"f-for my parents' death anniversary! I was suppose to visit their graves like every year.b-but he chose today of all days to play his little revenge games on me." With broken voice and tears threatening to spill, you managed to proceed,

"i don't wanna live with him anymore. I didn't sign up for this torture. Kill me for all you want but don't try to convince me into staying with that bastard!" Your nails holed into the leather chair, creating small crescents on the surface.

Uncomfortable silence fell over the whole room . As you turned around to leave, you were met with yuta's figure. His hand motioned to reach you but you closed the distance before he could.

"i hope you enjoyed it today!" With venom laced words, you finalised your proposition by flinging the ring straight into his face, his face scrunching at the hit , before walking past him.

"hyun-

Before taeyong could complete, taeil was already was on your heels.

"why do you have to be an asshole yuta?"

" i didn't do anything!" He started as he picked up the ring from the floor, “the door was ja-

“you shouldn’t have stooped so low nakamoto yuta!” tayeong growled with eyes glistening with fire.

“what now?” yuta’s jaw clenched at jaehyun’s nonchalant words. Pocketing his annoyance for him, he opened his mouth to explain himself,

“nothing now ok! I did nothing.i didn’t lock her and certainly didn’t try to forbid from going anywhere. She wa- the door was jammed due to some loose screws. I had to push it so it’d open. I-i-I wasn’t even aware of her plans. Heck, you can ask hyuck. I was playing with him for 6 hours straight. I had headphones in my ears all that time and you know how much hyuck yells. Even if she was stuck, there was not a sound that reached me taeyong. I was as oblivious to all this as much as you all were till now and knowingly, I won’t ever do anything so harsh. You know me very well! don’t you?” he ended with a hopeful question glancing at everyone in the room. With each passing second, his anxiousness elevated at the silent and calculating faces of everyone.

“you don’t believe me, do you?” his broken voice resembled the one they just heard few minutes ago.

“no yuta.i-its not like that . message taeil hyung about all this so he can calm her down.” Taeyong muttered with eyes searching up yuta’s for any malice he might be planning but found nothing. he was innocent.

But yuta panicked at his words, “why? I can explain by myself. It’s not that difficult. I can handle her taeyong.” he turned for the door but taeyong’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“you think so! You should be glad you are alive yuta”

“then release us taeyong. I’m begging you, LET HER GO!” the shout that echoed was enough to send shivers through every living being in the vicinity.

“I will. If taeil hyung say so. Message him yuta and you should know I don’t repeat my words without expense!”

He did as told, head hung low to avoid the pity looks that were thrown his way!

“don’t follow me taeil!”

“I’ll stop if you’ll stop!” taeil politely replied, tracking your steps on the sidewalk. He tried to obstruct your way but ended up following you instead. 15 minutes had passed since you both left the house but your anger was not simmering down and you were stunned at his patience.

“you can’t walk till university.” You deadpanned.

“neither can you.”

Stopping abruptly, you faced him, “you can’t stop me taeil.”

“I won’t. but the bus driver would. Even pretty girls don’t get a free ride home.” You groaned at his unnecessarily true words. He was right, you had nothing on you except for the phone.

He silently observed your slumping body, before walking a step closer to check the waters. When you didn’t push him away, he lightly took your hand in his, tugging you to come along.

“I don’t wanna go with you.” your hushed voice gave him some courage to proceed further,

“we aren’t going home. Lets just sit”

He dragged you to the park you had passed just five minutes ago. Sitting on the bench , he asked you to explain everything that had happened in the last 6 hours. You recited the whole story till the end where you threw the ring at yuta. Taeil only hummed in response when he heard a buzz from his phone.

Reading yuta’s message , he suddenly knew where to start!

“read this y/n.” he said before giving you the phone.

You absorbed each and every word written. It made sense. But did it?

“he’s lying.” You scoffed , returning the phone.

“he’s not.”

“ofcourse you’ll take his side.”

“and why would I do that?”

“he’s your brother”

“and you are my sister”

“no I’m not. I never would be.” You retorted, hiding the effect his words had on you.

“I might not be your brother but you can’t stop me from calling you my sister and I’d prefer you over yuta anyday.”

“but you still think I’m lying and he’s right”

Taeil massaged the back of his neck, clearly getting annoyed by your snapping.

“when did I say you are lying? I just said he’s not lying.”

“isn’t it the same thing?”

“no its clearly not. You just don’t wanna admit that you misunderstood!”

Uncrossing your legs, you faced him, “ because I am not in the wrong here. he is ! he did it so he can have the house all to himself while I’m locked. The truth is he hates my guts. He wont ever pass an opportunity against me!”

“and like you love his guts! Your hatred for him is the reason that you don’t wanna believe he’s innocent. Your heart wants to believe that everything that had unfolded after that night is yuta’s fault. You don’t wanna believe because you just don’t want to! You are rejecting his reason because your mind says its the perfect chance to break taeyong! your anger and emotions are playing games with you and you are letting them! and this is exactly what yuta had been doing from the very first day! He’s no different than you. No matter how much you discard it, the truth won’t change! Impulsive actions lead you nowhere!” His polite yet authoritative voice was providing inputs that you didn’t want to believe. Not yet.

“I just wanted to go to busan taeil. If he hadn’t been home the-

“if he hadn’t been home , then you would not have even made it out! And I’m sure you have heard him playing games. He’s a loudspeaker and believe me haechan is yuta part two. I’m sure he didn’t hear you.”

“but why would anyone even care! I’m the one at loss here.”

“what loss. Just because you missed it today doesn’t mean you can’t go tomorrow and If you want i can take you there. we can go right now! But y/n , loved ones live in your heart!. You don’t need a day to show them your respect and love. They know you and they watch over you. don’t crumble under the weight of customs and rituals. We’ll go tomorrow morning. Be ready by 8 a.m !” his soothing voice managed to calm the storm but you weren’t going to budge from your first condition.

“I don’t wanna go back with him.”

He sighed heavily before pressing his phone to his ear,

“taeyong. replace yuta in france. For two months and I don’t want any further discussion.”

You sniffled, finally letting out the tears that were in the waiting since the morning.

“I can drop you to the dorm for tonight until he packs his stuff and you can go back home tomorrow. Sounds right?” he described his plan , petting your hair.

You weakly nodded, letting him ease your worries with sympathetic words that you didn’t even know you needed!

next morning 

Uncomfortable silence welcomed you as you entered the house. You were told that he was gone and it sounded about right with the present atmosphere.

After finding the fruits, you made you way to the room but stopped in your tracks as you spotted something on the counter.

Three moulded screws were placed on a paper along with the ring that you thought would never be seen by you again. you breath quickened as you read the words on the plain paper

I’m sorry!

What were you supposed to do with it now?

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

thank you for reading ! feedback is always appreciated \(￣︶￣*\))

🎈

[sleepypanda27]

Someone New 7

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Y/n is a new addition to the Avengers team and as it happens to be Bucky’s neighbor. It’s clear as a day that they like each other, but will they stay just friends or become something more?

Warnings: Language, fluff

Words: 1,182

Someone New Masterlist

You were woken up early in the morning by loud music. This was your day off. There was no training, no nothing, you could sleep in. But no, Bucky decided this was the best time for a party.

“God fucking dammit, Barnes!” You fumed pounding on the wall that separated your rooms. You were so angry at him. “Turn it down, people are trying to sleep here!” In response, he turned the music even louder. “I'm gonna fucking kill him.” You murmured angrily to yourself while walking to his room.

“Barnes!” You angrily rapped at his door with your fist. “Don't be a coward and open up!” The music stopped, and it was peacefully quiet again. Before you had a chance to leave, Bucky swung open the door.

“Y/n, you're up!” He smiled brightly, walking out of his room and pulling you along with him. “What a coincidence I was just thinking about you.”

“What is happening?” You asked still mad, but now also confused.

“We're going running.”

“What? Oh, no.” You tried to stop him refusing to walk, but he winded his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side continuing walking.

“Oh yes. I helped you with shooting you are making me company running.”

“I hate running.” You pouted, hoping he would feel sorry for you and let you go back to sleep in peace.

“Well,” He smiled, booping the tip of your nose with his index finger. “Then it sucks to be you.”

“You're such an ass sometimes.”

“Don't worry, I won't run faster than you, I just need company. Steve is busy, and I have no idea where Sam is.”

“Can I at least change?” You huffed in defeat. If you had to go running, you didn't want to do it in your pajamas.

“Why? Dressed like this, you'll have all the attention on you.” Bucky looked up and down your body with a smile.

“What do you mean?” You looked at your clothes and immediately blushed, pulling down your sleeping shirt to cover up yourself. Being so enraged with Bucky, you didn't notice how you walked out of your room wearing only a simple shirt and pink polka dot underwear. “Fuck.”

“Do you promise to go with me instead of going back to sleep?” His eyes lingered on your bright colored panties for a second longer as you blushed harder. “Please?”

“Yes, but next time just ask, okay? No need to make a concert so early in the morning.” You backed into your room.

“Sorry.”

After the run in the park, you collapsed in the grass under trees in the shadow. Catching your breath, feeling like your soul was leaving your body. You made a mental note to never run with a supersoldier ever again.

“I think I'm dying.” You could feel your heart in your chest pounding like crazy. “Tell my family I love them.”

“Don't be so dramatic, you're perfectly fine,” Bucky assured sitting beside you, adjusting his baseball cap. Lifting the hem of his shirt, he wiped the sweat from his face. His short hair curled up on his forehead, shirt clinging to his chest.

“Are you an angel? Am I dead?” You reached up to touch his cheek.

“I'm whatever you want me to be.” He chuckled, brushing hair away from your forehead, a bit concerned about your wellbeing.

You noticed a girl in running gear who running past smiled to Bucky. He sent her a smile back.

“Wow.” You sat up looking at both of them in disbelief, pretending your feelings were hurt.

“What?” He looked at you understanding what you meant. “I just smiled back.”

“Sure. I can't believe this. I woke up this early in the morning to go for a run with you, but you are flirting with other girls while I'm literally dying here.”

“Doll,” His famous one-sided smile danced on his face. “are you jealous?”

“Whaaat? No!” You snorted.

“You don't have to be jealous.” He chuckled, placing his baseball cap on your head.

“Why would I be jealous?” You defensively crossed arms over your chest.

“I don't know. Maybe you have a crush on me? Am I right?” He arched a brow when you didn't say anything. “At least a tiny bit?”

“Go away.” You murmured, grumpily. “Go flirt with what's her name, I'm mad at you.”

“I don't know her name.” The fact that you didn't deny your crush on him gave him hope.

“Whatever.” You turned away from him.

“Doll, don't be mad at me.” He moved closer to you, placing his chin on your shoulder. “Sugar, don't break my heart.” The pout on his lips and the way he blinked at you so innocently made you smile. “There's the smile I like.”

“If you want to, you can go talk to her. I'm sure she's somewhere around you can catch up with her.”

Bucky looked at you confused. “Why would I do that? I'm right where I want to be.”

When you didn't feel like dying anymore, you stood up. Your legs felt like they were made out of cotton. Taking a step forward, you tripped, almost falling, but thankfully Bucky caught you.

“Whoa, are you alright?” He asked worried, bringing you back to your feet.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.” You were so close to him. "It's just that I never run this much."

“Should I carry you back home?”

“No, but thank you.”

“I can, really it's not a problem.”

“Let's walk slowly.”

Bucky's metal arm was wrapped around your waist just in case you would fall again.

“What's funny?” You asked when he laughed about something.

“Even ducks are faster than us.” He pointed at some ducks that were quacking while passing you not far away. One of them stopped to look if you had any bread, but when realized you had nothing edible, she run after the rest of the pack.

“Well, they didn't have to run with you.” You laughed.

You laid down on the living room floor, your body was tired and sore. Bucky gave you ice-cold water, joining you on the floor. You placed the bottle on your heated skin groaning in pleasure as the cold pleasantly chilled your skin. Buckys cheeks turned rosy from the sounds you made. Before his mind could start to fantasize about things involving you and those pretty sounds you were making right now, he spoke up.

“You know there is a couch right there, right?”

“I know. Too tired to move.”

“Is there something I can do to help?”

“No.” You smelled yourself. “Ugh, I stink. I need a shower.” You stood up groaning as every muscle in your body hurt. You yelped in surprise when Bucky picked you up bridal style, carrying you down the hallway where your rooms were.

“You're not gonna take a shower with me.” You chuckled, wrapping your arm around his neck.

“Aww, why not?” He joked along, making a sad face. “I could wash your back.”

“You wish.” You snorted, placing your head on his shoulder, letting him carry you wherever he wanted to.

[girls-scenarios]

Would You?

Idol: Mina (gugudan, formerly ioi)

Prompt: Hiii can I get college AU of reader x Gugudan Mina where reader is trying their best to take care of a very drunk Mina in a party. Mina keeps asking nonsensical question but as she’s taken home, she blurts out ‘would you like me back if i confessed that I Iiked you?’ The ending is up to you, tyyyy!

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: I miss gugudan so much that it’s not even funny. I’ve kind of lost hope for a comeback now... Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this scenario!

♡ Tip Jar♡

You had never seen Mina so drunk. Sure, you’d been to parties with her before and the two of you had gotten drunk together plenty of times. She loved to party and have fun, and you loved to have fun with her. But she’d never gotten like... this.

She was giggling and holding your arm in an iron grasp, her eyes hazy as she rubbed her face against your shoulder. “There’s four banana’s,” she said through giggles, pointing at the bowl on the kitchen counter that did, in fact, have bananas in it. There were only two, though.

“And that’s funny?” You were nowhere near drunk enough to understand why the bananas had sent her into yet another fit of giggles. In fact, when you’d walked into the kitchen to find her giggling, slumped against the counter with a cup in her hand, tilted near spilling, you had promptly put down your drink out of worry for her wellbeing. You had no idea when she’d separated from Sejeong, who was currently belting out a song in the living room, but the last time you’d seen her, she hadn’t been anywhere near this drunk. What was she drinking?

She let out a string of noises that sounded vaguely like words before bursting into giggles again and you swallowed, your arm beginning to tingle and your face flushing as she shuffled even closer. Dealing with a drunk friend was hard enough, but dealing with a drunk friend who you had a crush on? You weren’t sure you were going to make it through the night.

“Why don’t we drink some water?” You suggested, steering her back to the fridge. Thankfully, Hana had stocked up on bottled water, and you pulled one out, opening it and handing it to Mina. She stared at it for a moment before coming back to and taking a sip.

“It’s not alcohol,” she said sadly, staring down at the bottle like it had offended her. With a nervous laugh, you encouraged her to take another sip.

“It’s not. It’ll help you feel better though, so think some more.”

“‘Mmm I don’t wanna.” She finally let go of your arm, only to hug you after putting the bottle on the counter. Your heart picked up and you wished you could push her away, but you knew that would likely result in making her cry and you didn’t want that.

“Um, how about we go back to the living room? They’re playing karaoke. You like karaoke.”

At this, her face lit up. “I do! Will you sing with me?” She slurred, looking up at you with her eyes wide and a pout on her lips. God, she was so cute. Even if she was drunk.

“S-sure. Let’s go.” Awkwardly, you detatched yourself from her grip and took her hand instead, which placated her, and she followed happily behind you.

It was now Haebin’s turn to sing, and as she dramatically performed her own song from a musical she’d been in, Sejeong and Hana were pretending to do the high notes behind her. You found a seat open beside Sally, who gave you a sweet little smile as you guided Mina to sit beside her.

“I forgot you were here!” Oh god, she was drunk too. Sober Sally was sweet and quiet. Drunk Mimi was spacey and spoke her mind. You just laughed, feeling way too sober for this.

“Oh, that-.”

“You can’t forget about (Y/N)!” Mina jumped to your defense. Or, really, just turned in her spot to frown at Sally. “They’re so important!”

“Thanks, but it’s okay,” you said, hoping to calm her down with a pat on the shoulder.

“It’s not. I didn’t forget about you. I can’t forget about you.” She pouted and your heart skipped a beat before you could remind yourself that she was drunk and probably didn’t mean anything that she was saying. She grabbed your hand again and pulled you down onto the arm of the couch beside her, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to push her away when she put her head on your lap.

Soon, Haebin was done with her song and Nayoung and Soyee jumped up to sing a trot song and Mina hummed along, not bothering to sit up as she moved her arms and cheered. Halfway through the song, she looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Do you think a microphone could hurt someone?”

You blinked. “What? Like, if you hit someone with it?”

“No, do you think the electricity could, like, hurt someone?”

You had no idea what she was talking about, so you just laughed. “I don’t think so. Not the Bluetooth one.”

“Oh.” She stared up at you for a moment, making you shift under her intense gaze. “Do you think dogs can talk?”

“I don’t think so, Mina.”

“Oh.” This one made her frown, her lips turned into a pout once again. “The dog from Up could talk.”

“That’s because it was an animated movie.”

“I want a talking dog.”

“Me too.”

Mimi’s drunken yell that it was her turn distracted Mina for a moment, but soon she was staring up at you again.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“If you were a worm?” This conversation was getting weird. You found yourself laughing again, hoping that your answer wouldn’t give your feelings away. ‘Well, I guess. But how would you turn into a worm?”

“You never know. But you wouldn’t squish me?”

“Not if I knew it was you.”

“Good.” She seemed satisfied with your answer and you let out a relieved sigh, only for her to startle you by sitting up and grabbing your hand. “We wanna sing!” She yelled, interrupting Mimi, and you groaned internally. It was going to be a long night.

-

By the end of the party, only you, Haebin, and Hana were sober enough to help everyone get home. Haebin took responsibility for Nayoung and Soyee while Hana convinced Sally, Sejeong, and Hyeyeon to stay at the house with her and Mimi. Which, of course, left you with Mina.

Her apartment was close to yours, so you accepted your fate, calling goodbye to your friends as you wrapped an arm around her to make sure she didn’t fall and set off on your way.

The night air was cool and it seemed to sober her up a little bit, because she was mostly quiet as the two of you walked, only humming occasionally under her breath. But as you walked up to her apartment door, she suddenly turned to you and grabbed your arm, holding you tight again.

“Is something wrong?” You asked as you opened the door, her code already memorized from how much time you’d spent at her place.

“I need to know something.” She was obviously still drunk, her face flushed and her body swaying slightly, and you sighed, guiding her inside.

“What is it?”

“Would you still like me if I confessed that I like you?”

Her words made you freeze in your tracks, your heartbeat roaring in your ears. “W-what?” You turned to face her, your eyes wide and your chest feeling tight.

“I like you,” she said bluntly, studying your face, then slumping forward. “Sorry, you hate me now, it’s okay.”

“I don’t hate you!” You were rushing, trying to find the right words to say. “Actually, I like you too. I could never hate you. But you’re drunk, Mina. Right now isn’t the time to talk about this.”

“What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath. “I don’t want to do anything to you in this state. So if you remember this conversation when you wake up, call me and then we can talk. When we’re both sober.”

“Oh. Okay.” She looked down at the ground. “I am tired.”

“I know you are,” you said softly, guiding her to her room. “So get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning. Okay?”

She sat down on her bed and accepted the pajamas you put in her arms. “Okay.”

“Goodnight, Mina,” you said, turning for the door, and after a moment, she replied.

“Goodnight.”

Your heart pounded the entire way home, and even later, laying in your bed, her words still repeated in your head, over and over. And you knew you weren’t going to be getting much sleep.

-

The next morning, you woke up to a text from Hana complaining about spilled alcohol in the carpet, but no messages from Mina. The events of the night before were still fresh in your mind, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed as you sighed and padded to your bathroom to wash up.

It wasn’t until you were searching through your cabinets for a late breakfast that your phone rang, making your breath catch in your throat.

It was her. Did she remember?

“Hello?” You tried your best not to sound too hopeful, but your heart was already jumping around in your chest and your stomach felt like it was being tied into knots. On the other side of the line, you heard her clear her throat.

“Hey (Y/N). Thanks for taking care of me last night.” There was a slight waver to her voice, and she sounded like she was in pain. She probably was in pain: hangovers were getting worse as the two of you got older.

“Well I couldn’t just leave you to your own devices,” you said, adding a playful lilt to your voice. “You were so drunk you asked me if dogs could talk.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” She let out a soft laugh. “I was a mess. I guess I should stay away from tequila from now on.”

You swallowed down the ball of nerves beginning to ball in your throat before replying. “So, how much do you remember from last night?”

“Most of it. I remember all of the singing and clinging onto you and asking you a bunch of dumb questions.” She paused for a moment. “And one not dumb question when you brought me home.”

“Oh.” The breath left your lungs and you leaned against your counter, your body thrumming with so much anticipation that you were almost shivering. “So you remember me asking you to call?”

“I do. And I’ve been super nervous all morning, but since my drunk self decided to confess, there’s no going back now. So I called to say that I, um, still like you.”

Happiness and relief washed over you, giddiness replacing the nerves and making you want to burst into laughter. “That’s a good thing, since I still like you too.”

“Oh. Good.” She started to laugh, and you joined in, enjoying the sound even through the phone speaker. “That’s great. So, uh, should we date now?”

“That seems to be the next step,” you joked, feeling like you were floating. “So I’ll ask you out on our first date. Would you like to go to brunch with me?”

“I guess I’ll have to thank drunk me.” She giggled on the other line, making you smile so wide that your cheeks hurt. “Because I’d love to go out with you. How does eleven sound?”

“That sounds perfect.”

[themyskira]

The Life of Captain Marvel - issue #1

So here we are. Issue #1 of The Life of Captain Marvel, the miniseries that was touted as a bold new origin story that would change everything we thought we knew about Carol Danvers.

And it starts strong by exploiting family violence, trauma, mental illness and traumatic brain injury for melodramatic effect, with no intention of dealing with any of these complex themes in any depth or sensitivity.

For all that, infuriatingly little actually happens in this first issue. No exaggeration, the issue actually includes a stretch of nine months wherein Carol essentially does nothing except mope and grow her hair out. The dang plot doesn’t even arrive until the final seven pages.

Content warning: This issue begins with a flashback to Joe Danvers verbally abusing and hitting his kids. I haven’t included any images, but I talk at some length about Margaret Stohl’s abysmal handling of themes of abuse and family violence. Just a heads up.

The story opens on a flashback to an idyllic childhood holiday in Harpswell, Maine. There’s a montage of Carol and her brothers flying kites, wrestling each other, splashing in the water and stuffing their faces with candy, while adult Carol muses that she used to think her family was perfect.

Then the flashback takes a turn. One of Carol’s brothers rips the kite from her hand, tearing it. Their father, Joe, descends on the boys in a rage and begins verbally abusing and physically beating them as Carol looks on, because — surprise! — it’s Traumatic Past Retcon time!

Goodbye Joe Danvers, well-meaning but hard-headed dad who’s never understood his daughter and whose approval always seems to be out of reach. Hello Joe Danvers v. 2.0, scary unpredictable drunk who hit his kids and terrorised his entire family. Aren’t comics fun?

The flashbacks are interspersed with shots of Carol in the present day, where she’s battling supervillains Tanalth and Moonstone. As the flashback progresses, present-day Carol lashes out violently, alarming friends and foes alike.

“That’s why fighting’s easier than remembering. I tell myself that if I’m strong enough… I’ll beat the memories down so hard they’ll never come back.”

What’s strange to me about this page is the way it deliberately draws a parallel between Joe, snarling and raising his fist to strike his powerless young children, and Carol, snarling and raising her fist to strike down a powerful villain. By implication, it places Carol in the role of abuser, indicating an intergenerational cycle of violence.

Which of course is never explored or discussed beyond this, because Stohl doesn’t want to actually talk about the lasting impacts and terrible toll of family violence, she just wants to exploit it for THE DRAMAS.

As Joe whales on his sons, kid!Carol tries to run to their defence, only to be held back by mother Marie, who tells her, “You’ll just make it worse. Now’s not the time.”

We will be told numerous times over the course of this book what an incredible, loving mother Marie Danvers is, and how she’s prepared to sacrifice everything for Carol. Her actions, though? Her actions consistently portray a woman whose number one interest is in not creating more work or emotional angst for herself, even when it means hanging Carol out to dry.

This is not to say that Marie isn’t a victim as well in this scenario: though she never fears for her life or safety (she could pummel Joe into the ground without breaking a sweat), it could well be that constant gaslighting and emotional abuse have left her feeling unable to oppose her husband in anything.

It could well be, but that is nuance that Stohl is not interested in exploring, and all we get throughout this miniseries is Marie making excuses for Joe’s abusive behaviour and prioritising her own comfort over Carol’s emotional wellbeing and safety.

So anyway, flashback!Marie says “Now’s not the time”, and in the present day Carol shrieks “WHEN - IS - THE TIME?!” while damn near beating Moonstone into a pulp.

The other Avengers are disturbed by this.

Iron Man: Hey, Carol? Could you maybe leave a little something on the plate for… you know… bad guy jail? Black Panther: Would you call that rage… disproportionate?

hellooooo unfortunate paternalistic implications. A female superhero has a hysterical outburst on the battlefield, while her almost exclusively male colleagues look on in bewilderment. (‘This is why women can’t be superheroes, they’re too emotional!!!’)

Cap and T’Challa have to physically pull Carol off Moonstone, as Carol begins to hyperventilate.

Adding to our list of things that this series has zero interest in exploring:

What it’s like to experience a panic attack or traumatic flashback

What it’s like to live with an anxiety disorder

What it’s like to live with trauma

The Carol of this story is not a woman living with trauma and mental illness, she is a woman who swoons hysterically whenever the narrative starts drag a bit. Her panic attacks are purely a plot device used to ratchet up the dramatic tension at convenient moments, and it’s some of the most insensitive handling of mental illness I’ve seen in comics for a while.

Next comes the obligatory scene of Carol getting a full medical in Tony’s lab, only for Tony to throw his hands up and declare, ‘welp, there’s nothing physically wrong with you, are you sure there’s not something else going on????’. Because apparently neither Tony — who has personal experience with trauma — nor Steve — who lived through a FUCKING WAR — know PTSD when it’s punching them (well, Tanalth and Moonstone) in the face.

I mean REALLY.

Tony: Look, the breathing thing is probably some kinda nervous tic.

hi, hello, person with an anxiety disorder here, please do not tell somebody having a full-blown panic attack that it’s just a ‘nervous tic’, you absolute insensitive fuckstick.

Carol: [sigh] It’s… Father’s Day. Not my favourite day of the year, you know?

waitwaitwait, so CAROL recognised that she’d triggered and experienced a traumatic flashback, but for some reason decided to play dumb about it until she’d after she’d had a pointless medical examination??

Tony tells Carol she needs to get herself sorted out or else somebody is going to get hurt, so she goes to visit her mother and younger brother Joe Junior at the family’s holiday home in Maine.

Carol flies into town past a sign that reads, “Harpswell Sound / Summer Home of Captain Marvel” Carol: [narration] Oh, brother.

‘Oh, brother’ is right. I guess at least it isn’t as embarrassing as the time Stohl introduced a D-grade Captain Marvel TV series.

“Sugar’s Donuts / Official Donut of Captain Marvel”

hoookay yep that’s a bit much now.

At the donut shop, Carol runs into childhood friend Louis Lee, who’s grown into a Designated Love Interest with an obnoxious phonetically-spelled accent

“Better keep that to yah self, Ms. Danvers. Wouldn’t wantitah get out that yah cheatin’ on us…”

I despise him already.

Carol goes up to the house and hangs out with her mother and brother. Over dinner, Marie and JJ ask her why she’s dropped by so suddenly. Carol evades and JJ blows up at her because apparently he’s been holding in some anger about how he feels she abandoned the family and didn’t even bother to come home when their dad was terminally ill. (Which, hey, here’s another potentially rich thread to explore — PITY IT NEVER COMES UP BETWEEN THEM EVER AGAIN.)

Carol shoots back that he knows full well she was avoiding home because of their abusive father, only to be interrupted by the door slamming as their mother walks out.

…eeeeeexcept apparently that was an art mistake, because the very next page is Carol chasing after her brother, the one who actually stormed out. She finds him at their father’s grave, drinking booze.

He offers his recovering alcoholic sister the bottle, and when she lightly turns it down he gripes that she’d always thought she was better than everybody else and she should feel free to piss off any time now. Then he gets into his car and Carol lets him drive home drunk like the responsible person she is.

“Part of me knew I should go after Joe Jr. I mean, nobody in my family was any good with a bottle.”

WHAT IN THE HELL, CAROL.

But nah, see, she has more important things to do, like scream at her dead father and desecrate his headstone, because that’s sure not going to upset her family further, nope.

Her little tantrum is interrupted by the sound of tyres screeching and a car plunging off a bridge because YOU FUCKING MORON you stood there and watched your brother stagger drunk into his car and made the conscious decision that ‘nah, I’m gonna let this one play out’.

and ohohohohoho how ~poetic~! He crashed right through the ‘Summer Home of Captain Marvel’

god I hate everything in this comic.

JJ is rushed to hospital, where he is diagnosed with a traumatic brain injury, leaving him in a catatonic state.

And of course, Stohl’s Carol makes it all about her-fucking-self.

“In an instant, everything changes. You ruin someone’s life… it ruins yours right back. You’d give everything to have gone after him… and acted like the hero you’re supposed to be.”

Yes, JJ is in a coma with a traumatic brain injury, but let’s talk about how his near-fatal car accident ruined Carol’s life.

Anyway— NINE MONTHS LATER.

No, really.

We just skip over nine months.

Wherein apparently Carol has been doing nothing but poor-me-ing over her brother’s hospital bed.

Like.

She gave up her entire life and career.

Stopped saving the world.

Stopped interacting with everybody.

Just sat by JJ’s hospital bed looking melancholy and growing her hair out so that comic bros would stop complaining that she looked like a lesbian.

Tony tries texting her and she turns off her phone. So he appears beside her in an explosion of pixels.

which-- how?!?

There’s no visible technology at work here, nothing to indicate what’s projecting his image or enabling the two of them to communicate. Tony might as well be speaking to Carol via magic, for all we can tell.

Christ, it’s a superhero comic, it’s not like you have to work that hard to sell it to the reader. Two lines of dialogue: ‘What the actual hell, Tony?’ ‘Well, you wouldn’t return my calls, so I [insert technobabble here].’ That’s all you need. How lazy can you get?

Tony asks her to come back to the Avengers — we miss you, we need you, this isn’t good for you, etc. — and Carol’s like, ‘nah, I’m too busy wallowing in self-pity’.

And yes, like Carol’s PTSD and panic attacks, like the family violence, JJ’s brain injury exists solely here as a plot device. It’s not a disability he lives with or a trauma he survives, it’s a vehicle to bring melodrama to Carol’s story and a weakly-fabricated excuse for Carol to stay with the family and discover what she’s about to discover.

Because now it’s time to bring the still-catatonic JJ back home. And since the downstairs living room is more accessible than his upstairs bedroom, he’ll be taking the couch, where Carol has been crashing.

Yes, even though Carol has her own childhood bedroom in this house — we see it next issue — she has been couch-surfing for nine months.  But now that somebody else has claimed her spot, she’s got to move into… JJ’s bedroom.

So she goes up the room and rather rudely starts going through her catatonic brother’s wardrobe and pulling his clothes out to make room for her own shit. Again, I cannot stress enough that she had her own bedroom in this house. She’s just… weirdly choosing to impose on everybody else.

In the wardrobe, Carol finds a box belonging to her dead father. The box contains a love letter, in Joe’s handwriting, addressed to a woman who is not his wife — along with what is obviously a piece of alien technology.

This is a comic with a goddamn identity crisis. It keeps tossing out plot hooks, only to abandon them pages later in favour of the next shiny idea.

It begins by announcing, ‘This is a story about Carol returning home and confronting her childhood trauma.’ Then it abruptly swerves: ‘wait, scratch that, this is a story about Carol struggling to hold her fractured family together after her brother is hurt in an accident she had the power to prevent’, and then, ‘hold up hold up what we meant to say was, this is a story about Carol discovering a hidden truth about her family and parentage’.

It’s like Stohl doesn’t know editing exists. Because spoiler alert: this story is not about either of those first two things. The first fifteen pages of this issue are a dead fucking weight. They do not need to be there, and in fact a lot of problems could have been solved by cutting them.

Carol decides to spend some time with her family because she’s working through some personal shit, and discovers a letter hinting that her late father was leading a double life. That’s it; that’s the story.

All these convoluted logistics around who gets the couch and who gets the bedroom? Not necessary. Again, Carol has a bedroom in this house. Since she’s not around much, it makes sense that Marie might be using it as a general storage space. So: Carol is staying in her old room and has to shift a few boxes to make space. In the process, her dad’s shoebox gets knocked loose from whatever nook it was stuffed into. THERE. EASY. DONE. PLOT UNLOCKED.

Like, the car accident actually makes it harder to get Carol to that point. The only reason I can see for it being there at all is to force the passage of time so that Carol can grow her hair out and dudebros can stop complaining that she’s unattractive. Because I guess it just never occurred to anybody that they could draw her with long hair to start with?

But ‘oh no, the aliens and the superpowers I can accept, but in the last comic I read Carol had short hair and I AM SORRY BUT there is NO WAY human hair grows that fast, this is BEYOND THE PALE’.

Oh, and can we talk about how Carol’s response to finding OBVIOUS ALIEN TECHNOLOGY is to go, ‘huh, I wonder what this is, let’s see if I can open it by smashing it repeatedly with a hammer’??

Carol: Huh. Let’s see if we can open it. [starts bashing the device wildly] Gah! Why — won’t — you— Marie: [off-panel] Carol! Can you help me with Joe’s tube? Carol: [wandering off as the device activates] Coming, Ma!

And then IMMEDIATELY GETS DISTRACTED AND WANDERS THE FUCK OFF, failing to notice that the OBVIOUS ALIEN DEVICE has suddenly activated and is now beeping ominously????

So while Carol blunders around obliviously, the obvious alien device sends a signal to a galaxy far far away, which in turn activates what is seriously and embarrassingly called a Kree Kleaner. A small spherical vessel orbiting a distant planet lights up and begin speeding towards Earth, while inside some kind of Kree cyborg gestates and grows to maturity at a rapid rate.

Meanwhile Carol sits by the sea with Digital Tony and mopes that “I knew my family wasn’t perfect… but I thought love was”.

you.

you fucking.

Look, I recognise that trauma is complicated and that family shit is even more so.  I know people process and cope with things in different ways and at different speeds. And for Carol to suddenly discover that, on top of all the grief he was causing at home, her father was leading some kind of secret life with another women, must surely feel fucking horrible and bring up a lot of deeply painful memories.

But her reaction doesn’t gel with everything Stohl has told us about Carol’s relationship with her father.

We’ve been told that Joseph Danvers was a physically and verbally abusive alcoholic who terrorised his family to the point where, to this day, Carol struggles with PTSD and anxiety attacks. We’ve been told that Carol thinks of him as a mean, violent drunk who even in death haunts her family. She doesn’t understand why her mother stayed with him or why her brother still defends him, when all he ever did was make all of them feel small and powerless.

The idea that Carol would think all of this and yet still be totally blindsided to learn that Joe and Marie’s marriage was not a true-love-fairytale-romance is utterly, outrageously laughable.

Stohl presents the letter as bombshell that overturns everything Carol thought she knew about her family, indicating that Joe was leading a secret life she never knew about. It’s not. All it is is a confirmation of everything we’re told Carol already thinks about her father: that he was a cruel, self-absorbed bastard who treated his family like crap. You know what is a fucking bombshell?

The fact that Joe Danvers apparently had personal access to OBVIOUS ALIEN TECHNOLOGY.

AND AS FOR THIS LINE.

“And like they say, families were made to be broken.”

literally nobody says this.

I even checked, just to be fair to this comic, on the off-chance that it was in fact a thing.

One of the six search results is somebody on instagram quoting this comic. The other five are all related to the title of a single playlist on 8tracks.

But hey, like they say, Margaret Stohl is a fucking hack.

[ua-momo-archive]

june 16 | father’s day

Momo has a list of slightly embarrassing dreams that she’d never admit to aloud, and one of them is to spend an entire Father’s Day with both her father and grandfather.

(It’s no secret that she’s an absolute daddy’s girl.)

The thing that’s always kept her dream from becoming reality is the matter of timing and commitment: perhaps her father has an important international business meeting and will only be available at dinner time, or perhaps her grandfather’s school friends have planned a boys’ trip and he’ll be away for the day—or, even worse, perhaps both men are called to an urgent, impromptu meeting of the Yaoyorozu Corporation and are both unable to spend Father’s Day with her.

But today’s different.

A part of her knows that it’s not really all that special—it likely has more to do with their mutual concern for her emotional wellbeing than anything else. But the bigger part of her wants to lose herself in the delusion that maybe… Maybe things are just changing for the best.

And when she’s surrounded by people who she’s sure want nothing but her absolute and total happiness, she can’t help but feel like maybe it’s okay to lose herself in that delusion.

“Your smile is absolutely radiant tonight, darling,” Ichirou grins, pulling Momo from the stream of her thoughts as he takes her hand in his. He hesitates for a moment before admitting, “It’s been much too long since I’ve seen you like this.”

Momo feels herself flush in response, fidgeting in her chair as she averts her gaze. “I’m just… Really happy to be with you both tonight. I’ve missed this.”

(You can’t really miss something you’ve never had to begin with, but she figures that’s beside the point for now.)

“And we’ve missed you,” Touma says with a smirk, leaning in to take her other hand. “I pray that things are getting easier for you at school? With all the resources we’ve donated to U.A.’s security fund, I’d like to imagine that at least some difference has been made.”

In all honesty, the lockdown feels like it happened almost a lifetime ago—sure, there are some nights when she wakes up in a cold sweat, but for the most part, she hasn’t let herself dwell too much on what had happened all those months ago. For the first time in a long time, she’s thought more about her future as opposed to her past—and that’s probably a good thing. No, it most certainly is. “Yes, things at school are much… calmer. It’s given me a good opportunity to really take a step back and—” She hesitates. “—Just look at things through a different light, you know?”

The men beside her nod carefully in response; Ichirou’s eyes shine with an honest curiosity at her words while Touma’s expression remains unreadable. When her father gives her hand a gentle squeeze in encouragement, Momo feels whatever tension was in her shoulders dissipate. “I mean, I’ve thought a lot about what the two of you said last time we met, and it’s really helped me think about what I’d like to do with myself moving forward…” She hesitates once more, but this time it’s Touma who squeezes her hand and Momo suddenly feels like she can do almost anything. “I know that I’m still young, but I think it’s important for me to try and figure out my priorities as soon as possible. And honestly… I think that I’m still struggling to finalize that list—but I really do think that I’m making progress,” she admits with a genuinely hopeful smile.

Now it’s Touma that beams at her openly while Ichirou’s expressions shifts to one of hesitant reservation. “Darling, I can’t even begin to express how happy I am to hear that,” her grandfather chimes. “I always knew you had it in you! You were just being much too hard on yourself!”

Momo can’t help but chuckle sheepishly in reply. “It’s just in my nature, I suppose… But I realized that it’s much easier to sort through these things if I talk to other people… I’ve always had the tendency to keep things to myself, but I’ve found that talking to others can be a great way to help me organize my thoughts and learn about different perspectives…”

“Oh? How so?”

She pauses for a moment to think about how to best explain herself. “Well, for example, I found myself in a situation where I was reminded of some… Pain I’d experienced in the past.” The word seems like such a clichéd way to refer to her break-up with Todoroki, but she’s sure that if she mentions him by name at the dinner table, both men beside her will immediately shift into sour moods. “It was difficult for a little bit, but it was because I was put into that situation that I was reminded of who my real friends are—it reminded me that there are people that care a lot for me and it made me realize that I’d do anything if it meant keeping them happy and safe… ”

The open curiosity has returned to Ichirou’s features as he shoots her what is meant to be an encouraging smile. It’s more than enough to encourage Momo to continue.

“And that reminded me of a conversation I had with someone else… I’ve always been concerned about the way others perceive me, but it had never occurred to me that such perceptions would become essential to my daily life if I were to become a hero… I’m not sure I could live under that sort of pressure,” Momo quietly admits. She’s appreciative of the silence that her dining companions offer her in response to her admission, as it gives her a few moments to properly gather her thoughts. When she begins again, her voice sounds stronger, more confident. “There’s still a lot for me to think about, but it made me realize that… I can’t protect everyone—and maybe I don’t need to… Just the people I love—really, truly love… like you, my family.”

Ichirou stares at his daughter in silent awe, mind whirring as he processes the full extent of her words. It’s Touma who reacts first, moving out of his chair so that he can wrap his granddaughter in a warm hug. His voice shakes with emotion as he says, “I can’t begin to tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say that…”

Momo feels herself flush as the tears begin to prick at her eyes. “Oh, Grandfather… I truly wouldn’t have been able to reach this point if it wasn’t for all of those things you had said to me before…”

Ichirou shifts in his chair but says nothing.

“You know that I’d do anything in my power if it meant helping my darling little girl,” Touma smoothly responds, lightly stroking Momo’s hair. He pauses for a moment before adding, “Though I do have to admit that I’m a little jealous hearing about all the other people that have helped you reach the conclusions you’ve reached today… I know that I couldn’t keep you to myself forever, but goodness, you’re really growing up now, aren’t you!”

His granddaughter can’t help but chuckle at his words, lightly swatting him away. “Don’t worry, Grandfather: you’ll always be the man most important to me.”

Momo misses the way Ichirou’s shoulders slump because of her grandfather’s lively response. “Oh, so there are other men in the picture again? Do tell me their names, dearest—I’ll need to do some research to make sure they’re worthy of spending time in my granddaughter’s presence.”

“Grandfather, you’re too kind!” When he only raises an eyebrow at her in response, she breaks down in another fit of giggles. “It’s honestly not like that at all,” she insists, cheeks still dusted red. “I’ve just been more open with the people I consider to be friends and have tried to befriend new people outside of the other heroics students…”

“New people?”

Momo shrugs nonchalantly. “Yes, I’ve started to get to know a few of the business course students… There’s actually one in particular whose family we’ve perhaps worked with…? Takara Taira…?”

Ichirou sits up straight again at this news. “A Takara, huh…? Well, what do you think of him?”

His daughter tilts her head to the side in thought. “Well, I mean… I don’t know him too well yet, but he seems like a nice guy… He’s very focused on his studies and has such an interesting way of seeing the world… I think that I could stand to learn a lot from him, but we’re really only acquaintances at the moment!”

Her answer causes a relieved smile to grace Ichirou’s features. Momo can’t help but smile back, happy to see such a positive expression on her father’s face—he’s seemed more stressed than usual, based solely on their phone conversations, and so seeing him like this makes her heart flutter with glee. She parts her lips in order to comment on it, but before she can, her phone begins to ring.

Momo’s eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment before she checks the name of her caller. “Oh, it’s Grandfather Reo! Please excuse me while I take this.” She bows twice—once to each man—before hurrying out of the restaurant to accept the call.

And so that just leaves father and son at the dinner table.

Touma’s quick to lean over and whack Ichirou on the back of the head. “Are you daft? Could you be any more obvious?”

His son flushes a bright shade of red, hand reflexively reaching up to touch what had been hit. “What are you talking about?” Ichirou asks incredulously. The shock drips from his voice but his eyes are already narrowed in accusation.

“‘A Takara, huh?’” Touma mimics, sneer consuming his features. “God, this is why you should let me do the talking—”

“Oh, as though you weren’t being painfully dramatic earlier!” Ichirou fires back before shaking his head in frustration. “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this—I shouldn’t have even entertained the thought when you brought it up… Christ, if Mayumi ever hears about this—”

Touma pounds his fist against the table—not enough to attract attention from the other diners, but just enough to make his son pause mid-sentence. “You and Mayumi are so obsessed with turning my granddaughter into the next Yaoyorozu heir that you’re not even seeing the bigger picture,” he hisses. “If things continue at this rate, there won’t even be anything left for her to inherit.”

A heavy silence finds its place between them.

After a few moments, Touma slowly covers his son’s hand with both of his own. “Ichirou, we both know that this is the only option we have left. You have to understand that everything I’m doing is for the sake of our family.”

And Ichirou can’t say anything because he knows he’s right.

Theirs is a world that is ruled by timing and commitment—and commitment to the bloodline is more important than any personal happiness they could only hope to dream of.

[jooheonies]

all i want for christmas

Character(s): gender neutral reader x kihyun, minhyuk

Genre: fluff, mild!crack

Length: 1.5k

Summary: In which Kihyun is the present.

a/n: this is for the @mxwriters secret santa event! merry christmas, @misstrespass!

↳ christmas bf!kihyun that wants to help u with all the arrangements so he offers to put the gifts for santa (milk n cookies) but then u find him as The present. milk on his tiddies and crumbs in his hair

Dating Yoo Kihyun takes a big toll on your mental wellbeing.

It begins in your first year of college, late one night when you’re standing on the shuttle headed home, eyes drooping with fatigue. Your fingers are wrapped around a cup of coffee, leaning against the disgusting pole because germs may be bad, but staying up for the past three days to study for your psych final makes you care a lot less.

And just as luck would have it, the bus driver slams his foot down on the brake harder than should ever be necessary.

It results in you flying all the way across the bus into the hands of a handsome stranger with piercing eyes and a sharp jawline.

He grins down at you, one hand pressed into the small of your back as the other one holds the nape of your neck.

“I believe you just fell for me,” he mutters, winking sleazily.

The entire bus applauds.

An introduction, a new cup of coffee, and several dates over a time period of four years later, you find yourself falling in love with the chaotic organization that is Yoo Kihyun.

-

You run the back of your hand over your forehead, wiping the nonexistent droplets of sweat off your brow, and plant both hands on your hips, stepping back to admire your work.

“You’re decorating a Christmas tree, babe,” Kihyun snorts from across the room where he’s hanging stockings across the mantlepiece. “Stop acting like it’s the World Olympics.”

“You would never know,” Minhyuk snorts, a slice of pizza dangling out from behind his lips. “Activity . . . she is not your best friend.”

“I’m good at tennis!” Kihyun protests, eyes blown wide in offense.

“Yeah, alright,” you scoff, adjusting a piece of tinsel, “Wii Sports doesn’t count.”

Kihyun bites down on his lip at that, a blush spreading across his cheeks in shades of embarrassment. “I’m– I’m good at sports!”

Minhyuk stands from the sofa, dusting the crumbs off his pants. “Keep lying to yourself like that, ugly. Anyways, I have to go buy Hyunwoo’s present, so I’m gonna blast.”

“Minhyuk,” you exclaim, poking your head around the side of the tree, “it’s Christmas Eve! How are you not done?”

Minhyuk shrugs and pulls his hoodie over his shoulders, toes slipping into his shoes. “I believe in the pressure of the moment. Besides, shopping on time is straight culture – I believe in being gay and untimely. Worst comes to worst, I’ll buy candy lingerie and have Hyunwoo eat it off my body.” He cackles, head tipping back as he pushes the door to your apartment open, ignoring the look of disgust Kihyun shoots him. “Merry Christmas!”

And with that, he’s out the door, whistling underneath his breath.

“I can’t believe we let him come over,” Kihyun sighs, shaking his head as he picks the stacks of pizza boxes off the floor. “He told me he’d buy me chicken if I let him, however,” your boyfriend raises a finger and flutters his lashes dramatically, “it appears I have been bamboozled.”

“You’re just stupid.”

Kihyun pouts. “This is not the sort of dialogue that should be exchanged during Christmas.”

“It’s not Christmas yet,” you snort, shooting him a teasing grin.

Kihyun crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in what appears to be careful nonchalance, eyes twitching. “Speaking of which . . . you never really told me what you want for Christmas.”

You hum, twirling a stray piece of tinsel around a tree branch, and wink coquettishly. “Just you.”

Kihyun’s face turns red and he nearly hacks up a lung as you giggle and return to decorating.

Another five minutes goes by and the sound of your boyfriend choking has strangely ceased, replaced by the prickling sensation of his eyes on the nape of your neck.

“What is it?” You sigh, not even bothering to turn around.

“Hey, babe,” Kihyun whispers, his breath hot on the nape of your neck. You gurgle up a screech at the sudden sensation and turn around, nose brushing against his. “I was thinkin’,” he continues, unfazed at your surprise, “I should make the gifts for Santa, y’know? The milk ‘n cookies. Really liven up the place with the smell of baking and all.”

You narrow your eyes. “Really.”

He grins beatifically, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah.” And before you can say anything, he’s turning on his heel and skipping into the kitchen, a stark contrast to his previous mood.

It’s suspicious.

-

A half hour later, the scent of vanilla and chocolate wafts through the air, light and buttery.

“I think I’m almost done,” Kihyun calls from the kitchen, voice loud over the sound of clanging pots and pans. “It’s all good!”

You call back a response made of garbled syllables in what you hope is an agreeable tone.

However, everything is clearly not good, because fifteen minutes later, the smell of something burning pushes its’ way into your living room. You splutter around the haze, nose crinkled as you drop the box of ornaments in your hand in favor of stalking into the kitchen.

“Kihyun, what the fuck is going o–”

There, draped over your marble counter, you find your boyfriend, clad in nothing but a santa hat and bright red boxers, a sprig of mistletoe between his teeth. He’s lying on his side over the cool surface, one foot pressed into the counter, the other dangling off the edge as he props himself up on his elbow.

Kihyun drags a hand down his torso and winks at you. “Hello, dearest,” he gurgles around the mistletoe, teeth pulled into a smile.

You blink, stunned into silence, before a curl of burning cookie floats underneath your nose and you’re snapped back into the present. “Is something burning?”

“Just my,” he swipes a tongue out, the sprig of mistletoe nearly falling out of his mouth, “burning desire for you, my love.”

You tilt your head to the side, eyes peering at the stove behind him. “Kihyun, the oven is on fire.”

Kihyun huffs and sits up, the Santa hat falling lopsided over his eyes, and pulls the mistletoe out of his mouth with two fingers. “No, I just told you it’s my desire. Please keep up.”

You throw your hands up in exasperation, moving around the kitchen island to get to the stove, clicking the off button. “Kihyun, it could’ve really been a problem –”

The feeling of Kihyun’s hands planted firmly on your waist, spinning you around to press your back against the counter cuts you off.

“Hello, I am the present,” he announces, one hand lifting to slap loudly against his chest. He winces, one eye squinting shut as he rubs the red mark on his chest.

It’s then you notice the cookie crumbs on his chest and the droplets of milk in his hair, head tilted in confusion.

“I’m the snack,” Kihyun explains without prompting, flourishing vaguely with his hand.

You blink. “Kihyun those were presents for Santa.”

“Surprise, surprise. I am Santa and I am the present and I am the snack.” He waggles his brows suggestively and grins. “You been naughty or nice, babe?”

“This is stupid.”

He raises a finger and shoots you a wink before turning around and shaking his ass a bit. “No. This is sexy.” And there, scrawled across the red boxers in curly white cursive are the words “Nice Package!”

You stare. This should not be attractive.

Kihyun hooks his chin over a his shoulder and casts a sleazy smile, lashes fluttering flirtatiously. “I have a nice package for you.”

This really should not be attractive.

He straightens and steps forward, reaching up with an arm to dangle the mistletoe above your head.

“You’re supposed to kiss me, babe,” he drawls, smirking. “That’s the point of mistletoe.”

You give him a once over, eye trailing over his startlingly shiny chest. “You’re . . . covered in oil?”

He nods and shrugs. “You know how you say I never glisten? Well –”

“Listen. You never listen.”

A silence follows.

“Oh.” Kihyun blinks. “Yeah, that makes sense. God, I should’ve thought that through before putting peppermint oil on my chest.” He scratches a nipple with a finger. “ It kind of burns.”

You roll your eyes, unable to control the smile that paints its way across your lips right after because Yoo Kihyun is nothing if not endearing.

“God you’re so stupid,” you laugh, fingers digging into his shoulders as you drag him close, pressing your lips against his.

Kihyun pushes a muffled noises of surprise against your mouth before relaxing a few seconds later, cupping your cheeks in his hands and dropping the mistletoe to the floor.

Your fingers drag up his shoulders to lope around his neck, playing with the strand on the back of his hair as you lean into the plush comfort of his lips.

“I knew this was a good idea,” Kihyun gasps, pulling away to suck in a breath before his lips are back on yours.

And it’s moments like these, standing in your kitchen with the smell of burnt cookies and peppermint oil, lips pressed against Kihyun’s, that make you fall even more in love.

a/n: mmmmmmmmhello!! i havent writter reader fics in a rly long while n i feel like ive lost my touch bc god i had to erase 5k bc i write this as a kihyuk at first jkdhfskdjhf but anyways!!!! i rly liked writing this twas a fun time!

masterlist

[svt-husbands]

Puppy Love

Member: Mingyu Genre: Fluff/Smut (Hybrid!AU) Word Count: 2347

“Hey Gyu, I’m ho...oh.” you stopped in the doorway, greeted by the sight of your boyfriend frozen in place, holding a casserole dish.

“DON’T LOOK, THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A SURPRISE,” he shouted, scurrying away as fast as he could without spilling anything from the dish. You giggled and closed your eyes dramatically, slapping your hands over your face to cover your face.

“I didn’t see anything! I promise!” you giggled. You could hear scuffling to the dining table and back, the clink of silverware, and the sink running. After a minute or so, the clattering quit and you could only hear soft footsteps getting closer until they stopped right in front of you.

“You can open your eyes now,” he said, and you fluttered your eyelids open to see his smiling face. His glowing eyes and his wolfy smile made you melt just a little bit, and in your peripheral vision you could see his tail excitedly swishing back and forth behind him. “I made us dinner.” he said, grabbing your hand. He led you over to the dining table and pulled out your chair for you, tapping his fingers on the wood as if he couldn’t even wait for you to sit down. As soon as you were pushed in, he almost ran over to his seat in order to lift the lid on the casserole. Underneath was a baked ziti, covered in tomato sauce and cheese.

“I found this recipe online and I think it’s gonna be really good! I wanted you to be the first one to try it!” he said, almost childishly giddy. You couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy seeing him like this. He spooned the pasta onto both of your plates carefully, as not to spill any of it onto the tablecloth. You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit at his face watching you pick up your fork. He looked like a little kid waiting for affirmation that he had done a good job. You made a bit of a show of taking a bite, animatedly closing your eyes and making the best “mmm” noise you could possibly muster. That is, until you realized how amazing it actually tasted. You didn’t have to fake the “mmm” anymore, it was fantastic.

“Oh my god, Mingyu, this is ridiculous,” you said, going for a second bite. He reached out for his own fork and took a bite to see for himself. Your eyes flickered up and watched as he threw his head back and moaned with his mouth full of noodles.

“Bless pinterest, honestly” he said after he swallowed, scooping another serving onto his plate. He went to attack the tomato-y goodness again, but stopped as if he’d suddenly remembered something important. “Oh! Hold on, I got something else too,” he smiled, scooting his chair back and heading to the kitchen. He returned quickly with two glasses and a bottle of sparkling wine. He poured your glass first, and the fizz off the bubbles matched the bubbling excitement in your chest.

“What is all this for, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Mingyu just shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Can’t I just pamper my beautiful girl? Treat you like the princess you are?” he sat back down across from you and sipped his wine, sending a wink in your direction. You could have sworn that five minutes ago he has been acting like a cute little puppy, but he was definitely trying to seduce you now. Lord.

You continued dinner for a while longer, interlacing your fingers on top of the table and telling each other about your day. His ears perked up when you told a joke, and his fangs glinted as he laughed. Sometimes it was easy to forget that he was a hybrid, but admiring him like this now, you were completely taken back by his wild, unique, kind of beauty. Once your plates were clean, your glasses were empty, and the candles were starting to burn low, Mingyu sighed and cleared his throat, mumbling something that sounded a lot like “now or never” under his breath.

“Y’know, there was actually something that I did want to talk about tonight.” he said, running his thumb across your knuckles. Butterflies erupted in your stomach. You had a pretty good idea what he was going to ask, as it was something you two had been gently suggesting for a while. It was bound to happen eventually, but even still...you were nervous.

“...yeah?” you asked him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks. He reached into his back pocket, retrieving a small velvet box. Your breath caught in your throat. You were expecting it, but your heart still jumped.

“You know I’m not good with words, but,” he sighed, opening the box and pushing it towards you, “It would be my honor to have you as my wife. Would you marry me?” he asked. Tears pricked your eyes. Your chest filled with warmth. Your brain was everywhere.

“Yes,” you choked out, completely foregoing the box and grabbing onto his hands with both of yours. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but beam back at him, awkwardly getting up and clambering around the table to get to him without letting go of his hands the whole time. He pulled your into his lap, letting you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. He was always so warm (much warmer than a full human) which made holding him an experience like no other.

“I love you so much,” he whispered into your hair, gently rubbing circles into your back. You pulled back and looked at his face, seeing all the admiration in the world in his eyes. You couldn’t help but lean in slowly, touching foreheads, noses, and finally touching lips. His mouth was soft against yours, and his movements were filled with love. His hands didn’t leave your body the whole time you kissed him, and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end as he gripped you tighter. You leaned your head to the side, deepening the kiss. This got you a low growl from your boyf– sorry, fiancé– in response. You could feel him smiling into the kiss, but the levity was brief. His teeth grazed your bottom lip quite soon after, making you gasp. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and play with yours. The soft whimper that left you was unexpected, and with it you could feel Mingyu harden beneath you.

It didn’t take long before the two of you had slid from the chair onto the floor, too impatient to even make it to the couch. Mingyu’s hands slid under your shirt as he kissed down your neck, making you breathless. “Gyu,” you sighed, “bite me.”

He pulled away and looked at you with wide eyes. “Bite you like…? Are you sure?” His brows furrowed. He knew what you were insinuating: not a regular bite, not something soft. A hard bite. A bite that would mark you as his mate forever. The hybrid equivalent of a wedding ring.

You held his face in your hands and looked into his eyes before you gave him a firm nod. You knew that you wanted to be with him forever, and there was no hesitation in this decision. He held your gaze for as long as he could as he pulled your shirt off and slowly lowered his face to your collarbone. His teeth brushed your skin and you felt a chill down your spine. You closed your eyes in anticipation, waiting for him to bite down and claim you.

“...Gyu?” you asked, opening your eyes after feeling his warm breath leave your skin. You were met with his smile only a few inches from your face. You squeaked in surprise, making him laugh.

“Let’s leave the marking for the honeymoon, hmm?” he giggled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You wanted to say something back, but before you could, he was kissing your lips again while a hand snuck down to rub you over your jeans. “This, however, can’t wait until then,” he said as he pulled up to unbuckle his pants. It’d been a while since you two had done this, and you could barely wait. The throbbing between your legs was growing unbearable. Once Mingyu had pulled his slacks and underwear down just enough to release his length, he went to work on getting you just as free. He struggled getting your tight jeans off, his mouth turned into an almost childlike frown as they got stuck around your ankles. The laugh that left your mouth only deepened his look of displeasure, and the sight of this big man-dog acting like a toddler while his dick bounced against his stomach in the open air sure was… memorable.

You took it upon yourself to free your legs of the denim confines that they were held in, and Mingyu immediately nestled his body between your thighs. You pouted up at him.

“What?” he asked breathlessly, obviously dying to just pound you into the carpet already. You pulled on his shirt, and he rolled his eyes. He sat up with a huff, yanking his shirt open with no care for the wellbeing of it after that moment, and you heard the buttons land around you on the floor. He looked down at you from his kneeling position, eyeing your naked body like you tasted better than any pinterest recipe he could think of. His shirt was still technically on, but his toned torso was on full display now, and you couldn’t focus on feeling self-conscious about his eyes on you when you were too busy looking at him the very same way.

His eyes lingered on your sex, and your stomach tightened as he put two of his fingers in his mouth before using his own saliva as lubricant to rub circles on your clit. You let out a breathy moan at the feeling. He kept his fingers moving as he leaned over you, only taking his hand away to support himself as he hovered over your body. You wrapped your legs around his hips, grinding yourself up into him.

“Can I?” he asked, prodding your entrance softly. You bit your lip and nodded, and he immediately pressed into you. He went slowly, letting you stretch around him. It was a pleasantly tight fit for the both of you, and you noticed how Mingyu was already holding back a moan, as he was biting his lower lip so hard you were scared he was gonna draw blood. You reached up and stroked the back of his head, causing his eyes to flutter back open. He smiled down at you softly, leaning down to kiss you again as he drew himself out just a little and pushed back in for the first time. You gasped into the kiss, winding your arms around his neck as he began thrusting more steadily, picking up pace as he went. He kept kissing you for a while, but eventually his face was buried in your neck as he whined lowly.

He rutted against you sharply, and the sensations of his breath against your neck, his skin on your skin, and the rumbling of his chest all culminated together in the heat you felt between your legs. He drove you to your finish faster than anyone else in the world could, and you wouldn’t want to change that.

He pushed his weight back a little so that he could reach your chest, and he licked across it brazenly. He paid special attention to your collarbones and nipples, and you were a mess beneath him because of it. He felt you clench around him in response, getting tighter and tighter as you geared up to hit your climax. He sped up his hips even more, and you were immediately engulfed in pleasure. Your orgasm hit with an intensity that was much more than usual, and you clutched onto Mingyu as you cried out in ecstasy. He went at it for a minute or two more, but the feeling of you pulsating around him and the sound of your cries had him coming just as hard, slowly pumping as much as he could out of himself into you.

He remained inside of you as he flopped down onto your chest.

“Oh my god,” he panted. You would have been panting too if your fiancé weren’t crushing your lungs. You smacked him on the back and his eyes popped open; seeing your distressed face, he pulled out and laid beside you instead. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, curling into his side and laying your head on his chest. He still smelled so good, even though he was covered in sweat now. The two of you laid there in silence, gently tracing patterns onto each other’s skin for a while. The sounds of the ceiling fan and the dishwasher in the neighbor’s apartment running filled the room with white noise, and you really could have fallen asleep naked on the floor like that, if Mingyu hadn’t eventually insisted on finishing the night with a bath. You two gathered up the clothes that had been cast off onto the floor, and you put the dishes into the sink to be dealt with in the morning. You just wanted to spend more time with the beautiful man that you now knew would be your partner for the rest of your life.

“Hey baby?” you asked, leaned against his chest in the warm water of the bathtub. He made a small noise of acknowledgement. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responded, wrapping his arms around you and setting his chin on your shoulder. You couldn’t help but smile at the feeling, and you leaned your head against his.

“I’m glad you don’t smell like wet dog in the bath,” you murmured with a smirk on your face.

“Never mind, I want the ring back.”

- Marcy

[imagine-loki]

The Powers That Be

TITLE: The Powers That Be

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Twenty-Seven

AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki discovering a hidden mutant when he realises they are at risk of being found by S.H.I.E.L.D. who experiments on mutants, he is the one to help them.

RATING: Teen and Up

"Are you ever going to let go of whatever is taking your mind off your training," Diarmaid asked, watching as Alexia's face became drenched in sweat as she concentrated on the task at hand.

"I am." She retorted, her teeth clenched tight as she continued forcing her mind to what she was centred on.

"No, you are not, you are focusing on something else."

"Is that not part of my training too, focusing on more than one task?"

"In time, yes; but at present, you need to perfect your skills."

Alexia curled her lip, it was as though Diarmaid wished for her to detest him, and at present, he was being successful at increasing her hatred of him day after day. Focusing all her energy, she did as she was instructed in one powerful thrust before turning on her heels and walking away. "There."

"Whatever is irking you Midgardian, I suggest you get it out of you post haste, because it is consuming you," Diarmaid commented worriedly.

"Fear and anger consumed me when I used these skills most powerfully, so should you not want me consumed by them?"

"Fear and anger have their place, it is true, but what consumes you now is neither, but something else," Diarmaid stated factually.

"And what is that pray tell? Since you think you know me better than I know myself," she snapped turning to face him again, her anger apparent.

"Loneliness."

Swallowing hard, Alexia turned and left, knowing what the elf was saying was true, but in her own mind, she was not ready to face it yet.

Diarmaid watched her leave, shaking his head, Loki's concerns were true, and if she continued to go the path she was on, there was no telling what would happen the powerful Midgardian.

XXXXXXX

"Brother!" Loki rolled his eyes before turning around. "How have you been faring?"

"Well, until you returned that is. I did not hear the Bifrost, has Midgard gotten sick of you too?"

"As jovial as ever I see," Thor chuckled. "Where is Lady Alexia, I come bearing letters for her."

"I am not aware of her current location, and I do not think to give her those would be recommended if they are of content that will upset her."

"So Heimdall’s fear has come to pass?" Loki gave him a quizzical look. "Heimdall was concerned that Alex would become more withdrawn here, with none of her kin or kind around her." He explained.

Loki's face contorted in anger. "And you did not think to tell anyone that he said such?" He snapped.

"I thought with so many being here to keep an eye on her; such would not be an issue." Thor shrugged.

"You imbecile." Loki snapped, walking off without another word.

"I do not even want to know." Thor shook his head as he walked toward Alexia's rooms, hoping to give her the letters and speak with her for a few moments to assess her wellbeing for himself.

"Prince Thor."

Thor smiled at the Light Elf that was coming towards him. "Diarmaid, how do you fare?"

"I personally am in good health, but I fear I am not as well as I should be." Thor frowned, not sure what the elf was saying to him. "The Midgardian, she has not been seen since yesterday." He informed the crowned prince.

Thor's eyes widened. "She is refusing to leave her rooms?"

"She has not entered them to refuse to leave them," Diarmaid stated solemnly. "I have just spoken with her maids, they have not seen her and her bed is as they left it yesterday evening."

"And the Einherjar?" Thor asked, becoming panicked.

"Those that stand guard are not those who patrolled through the night." Diarmaid reminded him.

"I will speak with their commander, find Loki, he may know where she is, or might know where she could be perhaps." The elf nodded and headed to where Loki's rooms resided.

Thor watched him leave before rubbing his hands down his face. "Norn's but what is going on?"

XXXXXXXXX

"Prince Loki." Loki turned to see a somewhat concerned looking Diarmaid running to him, which in itself told him something was amiss, for the elf never went anywhere with much haste. "She is missing."

Loki, for a moment, considered not being overly concerned by the statement but considering the manner Alexia was acting of late, he decided it was something to be worried for. "Since when?" He half demanded, lengthening his strides to get to the elf faster.

"Last night. Prince Thor is checking with the Einherjar as to if she left during the night, or if she ever returned to her rooms at all last eve." Diarmaid informed him.

"What manner did she act when you trained with her yesterday?"

"Too calm, too willing, unsettlingly so," Diarmaid stated.

Loki became somewhat fearful, he had read a lot on Midgard, as there was very little else for him to do, and he had a general idea how Midgardian's reacted when they became so. He thought to himself about how Alexia could be thinking. "Go see what Thor has found out, I think I may have an inkling as to where she may be." Without saying anything else, he turned on his heels and demanded a servant ready his horse.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Alexia looked at the water cascading down the side of the falls, it caused a small rainbow to form in its mist as it fell, capturing her attention fully. She had sat on the same log since sun up, staring at it and thinking, not knowing how long she had been there. The sounds of footfalls close by did not startle her from her current state; she simply stayed as she was.

Thor looked to Loki in intrigue and concern, not knowing how his wayward brother could possibly have known Alexia would make her way to her current location, but also wondering why she was not reacting to their presence. It was Loki that decided to try and wake her from her trance by walking over to her, slowly coming into her line of sight, trying to see if that would rouse her, but it failed. Thor too walked over to the small Midgardian woman, eyeing her carefully, all too aware that should she get too startled, she could injure them substantially by casting them over the side of the falls and into the water below, and that was only if she did so accidentally; if she truly wished to harm them, then they would suffer far worse.

"I'm not jumping in after you if you fall." Loki stated factually as he looked over the cliff face, "Knowing my luck, you would be fine and I would end up with a broken limb." Alexia did not even look at him, but she did emit a small huff that could be accused of being an attempt at a laugh. "What is going on?"

"Nothing."

"Yes, that is why we are up the side of a mountain outside the city looking over the falls." He replied sarcastically.

"Lady Alex," Alexia turned to look at the blonde God, having not realised that he was there too. “I am not sure if you wish to have these, but I have letters from Midgard for you." Thor held out the envelopes he had been handed on Earth to give to her. "They are from your father, Lady Pepper and Stark.”

Alexia frowned slightly but extended her hand to take the pieces of paper. "I didn't think any of the three of them remembered this form of communication."

"Well as much as Stark wishes it so, it is not currently possible to get reception here on Asgard for Midgardian cellular devices," Thor smiled slightly.

"Sounds about right." Alexia nodded and went back to looking at the water again silently.

"So, other than giving the palace security minor cardiac issues, is there any other reason you are here?" Loki enquired.

"I needed to get away."

"I can understand that."

"It is so..."

"Yes." Loki agreed.

"So what?" Thor looked from one to the other.

"You would not understand." Loki dismissed.

"Understand what?" Thor demanded indignantly, "Contrary to your comments and thoughts on the matter, I actually am capable of comprehension."

"Yes, in some ways, in others, you are utterly ignorant." Loki countered.

"And why pray tell, is that?" Thor folded his arms across his chest.

"Because you were surrounded by admirers and allies as you grew up, so you cannot even begin to comprehend abject loneliness and isolation," Loki stated matter-of-factly.

Thor's arms fell to his sides again, not sure how to respond for a moment. "Well, you were surrounded by them too."

"Only because you were there, they were never my allies, they merely tolerated me to be around you," Loki commented. "You cannot fathom what it is like to be utterly different to others and for them to actively make you feel it, it can be a terrible burden, I can assure you."

"You are being dramatic Loki." Thor dismissed.

"No," The older prince looked at Alexia, who returned his gaze. "He's right, that is exactly how it feels."

Loki gave Thor a smug look. "You pointed out on more than one occasion that I was different for being able to wield seidr, do not deny it, you made it a game to jest at me for it, accusing me of cheating at it, and how it was not a manly thing to do, did you not, you and your friends?" Thor bit his cheek at the accusation, knowing it to be true. "Then, as previously stated, you are not fully aware of how Alexia feels; you can comprehend from the outside, but not from personal experience."

Thor chewed over Loki's words for another minute before taking Mjolnir in his hand. "Then I entrust this in your hands," he conceded. "Lady Alexia, I am here for a few days before I return to Midgard, if you feel as though you wish to read them and have responses written, or merely have me relay a message, I am more than willing. I had better inform the guards that you are safe and well before the city is placed on lockdown." With a nod from Alexia, he swung Mjolnir around and was able to take off and head back to the palace, sending dust into the air as he went. Alexia made a hand movement as though dismissing someone and the dust went back to the ground.

"That is useful."

"Sure isn't that what all my training is about?” She commented plainly. “How did you know that I would be here?"

"You often stared at this mountain from the training grounds, though I have to commend you for getting here, it is not an easy journey, and there are several sorts of creatures that are less than friendly on the journey also."

"I hadn't noticed."

"That is slightly concerning."

Alexia gave a small grunt as her response, her attention back on the letters in her hands; seeing her fathers handwriting, she flicked to the next one, seeing that it was from Pepper, she turned it around and opened it, scanning the words for a few minutes and giving a small smile before folding it up again and looking at the last one, Tony Stark's nigh on cryptic scrawls causing her to think of the first time she had to attempt to decode it because Pepper was not able to, she had had adequate success at it. Opening it and reading it, she realised it was far longer than Peppers, giving her details of what happened on the Avenger's return to Earth, and how the group were wondering how she was doing, and of course, about half a page of achievements Tony had been awarded since her leaving, because it would not be Tony Stark if it was not in some way about him, which made her smile again.

Loki watched silently, having been apprehensive of giving her them in her current state, but he felt some relief at her reactions to the two she had read, noting her dismissing one, gathering from her reaction it was the one sent by her father. “Shall we head back to the palace?" he suggested after she had digested them some bit. Alexia nodded and rose to her feet, not looking at him. "Dare I ask why you do not wish to open the one I assume is the good agent?"

"I don't really care about what he could have to say, according to Stark, Director Fury has ensured he has not faced prosecution, so anything other than that, I do not really have much interest in, I mean, I am glad he isn’t going to prison or losing his job, but I just don’t care what he has to say." She shrugged, staying a step behind him so that he could lead the way.

"Comprehendible." Loki conceded.

"How were you allowed out of the palace, I thought you were under house arrest?"

"You are too valuable for Odin to risk you taking too long to find when it was suggested by Thor and Diarmaid that I may know of your whereabouts, he as good as threw me out the nearest door to come retrieve you."

"Am I ever going to be free to leave here?"

"Technically yes, but he will fight tooth and nail to ensure you remain, you are too valuable to him."

"And too dangerous to be used against him."

"Yes." Loki conceded, "He would be terrified of that, but I think testaments from Thor, Heimdall and Diarmaid stating you are not at risk of joining me in the darkness, comfort him and also his..." Loki said no more.

"Has Odin banned you from being around me?" Alexia asked, watching the prince for his reaction.

"Banned is not the correct word."

"But that is why you remain distant."

"It is better for us both that I stay separate from you, that he has made that clear."

"He has promised you your magic if you behave and do as he says." She guessed.

"Nothing that generous, but to be around you is to guarantee I will not obtain it," Loki explained.

Alexia felt the weight of the gift Thor had bestowed on her at his last leaving around her neck. "That's not really fair."

"He thinks my being around you is risking me being a bad influence on you, I can contort your sense of right and wrong apparently," Loki informed her. "Also, he is of the opinion you should not be sidetracked by such menial distractions as friends; you should simply train, eat and sleep." They made their way to where he had tied his horse and untied it, but instead of mounting it, he took the reins and walked alongside her.

"I get the feeling eat and sleep are not too important to him either."

"You assume correctly."

"Was he like that with you both when you were growing up?"

Loki's face contorted in anger for a moment as he manoeuvred the horse around some tree roots, before schooling it back into a look of indifference once more. "Yes and no; he had little issue with friends, but training and studying were paramount."

"Must be hard to marry friends and that level of training, I guess that's why Thor is so close to the friends he has, they were as dedicated as you and he were."

Loki scoffed. "Bar my mother, you are the only one to ever think I may actually have trained any bit."

"I saw the footage of you in Stuttgart, you disabled Captain America like he wasn't some super soldier, but a small child, you would have to be an idiot to not think that that does not come from years of practice."

"Centuries of it."

"Was Odin as ridiculing as Thor for your magic skills?"

"Where do you think Thor got it from?"

"Well, that's crappy."

Loki looked at her with a slightly amused look. "That is a polite manner in which to refer to it."

"My mother always thought I spent too long on the books and not enough time being young."

"And the agent?"

"He never once asked what I was doing, that was during the time that Earth went to hell in a hand basket, so he was busy with work, but he always told me as a kid to work harder and harder, if I did anything, he would tell me how to do it better."

"And regarding friends?"

Alexia raised a brow as she looked at him. "Does my father, Phillip Coulson look like a man that spends time being friends with people? I am still trying to figure out how he and my mum ever met, much less created me."

"That is a fair point, I will concede." Loki chuckled.

"When did you stop trying?" Loki looked at her curiously. "To be good enough for your father, when did you stop?"

"Do you recall Thor's first time on your realm?" Alexia looked at him in shock but nodded. "Just after that. I realised that no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I was not his son, so I would never be good enough for him."

"That's a lot of trying on your behalf, like; a couple of hundred years?"

"Try a thousand."

"Are you serious?" She spluttered in disbelief.

"I clearly did not learn my lesson very quickly," Loki stated in a self-deprecating manner. "What of you?"

"When I was sixteen, I saw my mum try to go out with some guy, but since she had me, he was apprehensive. I kept referencing Phil over and over because he was getting busier and busier with work and had less and less time for me, so of course, I tried harder and harder to get his attention. Long story short, I cost my mother a really good relationship and Phil told me off because my attempts at getting his attention had caused S.H.I.E.L.D. to become aware of my existence, leading to him being reprimanded for not remaining unattached."

"What did you do to get them to notice you?"

"I may have gone there and asked to speak with him when I was asked who I was, I told the truth, Fury was there at the time, and he was pissed off at that."

"That is hardly a terrible thing; you did not try to obliterate entire races!"

"I may as well have, that day, he said some things...I didn't talk to him again for over a year, and it was three years before I set eyes on him again, though it was from afar. When I realised that even talking to him was too much in his eyes, I knew I was wasting my time, so I stopped, and the irony of ironies, he now wants to spark up a relationship it seems."

"I took far longer to realise that, and I fear Muspelheim will freeze over before Odin will wish for at least an amiable conversation with me, much less anything else." Loki scoffed.

"I don't know what that means, but I take it to mean that it won't be happening soon," Alexia commented. "How far is it to the palace?" She asked looking at her surrounds.

"A few hours by foot I would imagine, I only ever did this journey via horse before."

"I didn't realise it was that far."

"Did you not realise at the time you came?"

"No, I was a bit side tracked."

"Out of curiosity, you; you were not planning to harm yourself on your travels, were you?" Loki enquired, not entirely sure he wanted to hear her reply.

Alexia shook her head slightly, "No, I just needed some time for myself, even if that palace is the biggest building I have ever seen, it is still very claustrophobia-inducing after a while."

"No truer words were spoken." Loki agreed as they made their way back to said building.

"Why, would you miss me?"

"Well, you are somewhat more tolerable than most."

Alexia laughed. "More tolerable does not imply that I am actually tolerable, though, does it?"

Loki chuckled to himself, "How astute of you to pick up on that."

"So that's a concurrence with my statement."

"Would you care if I would?"

"Well no, as I would be dead, but still, I'd like to think I actually mean something to someone somewhere." She shrugged; after that, they walked in silence, with the dark haired prince mulling over her words in his mind, slightly startled by what he knew to be the answer.

[hollygopossumlovesj2]

Collide, Part 11

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester; mentions of John and Mary Winchester, Bobby Singer and Rufus Turner, and the CEO of the CW.

Rated/Warnings: PG-13; AU; Mentions of a possible anxiety issue, cursing, violent/angry Dean Winchester, Impala abuse.

Word Count: 1,670

Summary: Dean Winchester is an actor, today’s James Dean, and by some horrific mistake of the higher powers of your employer, the CW, you’ve been thrown into a fake relationship to gain the attention of the press. Or so you thought. You never could’ve expected what would happen next and what your life would become.

A/N: Its been a while since I updated this fic. I got bullied into updating by a couple of people over at Ao3. So, if its crap, you have them to blame. It was surprisingly easy to jump back in. My muse is being kind for once. If you guys don’t like it, I’ll just post it over at Ao3, let me know what you think.

Also, because it’s been so long, I wanted to point out that the original request ‘Dean Winchester and Reader are actors. They get set up together and they start out not liking each other, only to fall for each other in the end.’ Came from the brilliant @dancingalone21(The request was paraphrased) I just can’t write awesome one shots like she can. I gotta stretch it out into a series. Sorry, not sorry?

If you need to catch up, Collide Master List!

Master List

Sam’s POV:

“Sam!”

 I’d been having a very satisfying dream, probably about my girlfriend Jessica, which was surprising even in my subconscious. With everything going on, my nights were mostly filled with nightmares about finding Mom’s body over and over.

 Or on really bad nights, I dreamt that I was the one who found her right before she died and could do nothing to stop it. I’d never actually seen her that night like Dean had, so my mind conjured up morbid picture after picture to torment me with.

 “Sammy, goddamnit, wake up!” My brother’s panicked voice finally reached through what had been a very heavy sleep. So heavy that I felt dizzy and slow as I sat up to see just what the hell Dean’s problem was.

 “What the hell, Dean?” I grumbled, my vision clearing to see that he was frantically throwing my stuff into my duffle.

 “We gotta get back into town.”

 “What? What for?” Despite the fifty questions shtick, I stood up and started to throw some clothes on before they all got packed away in a wad never to be the same again.

 “Y/N’s missing.” Dean’s tone was perfunctory, but I could tell he was on the edge of panic as he tossed the now packed bag onto my bed and stomped off into his room where he began packing in the same way he’d thrown my bag together.

 Not that I didn’t appreciate Dean’s help, especially when I was swamped at school, but I wondered if he ever got tired of running around like he was still in charge of a toddler.

 “You mean she went for a walk because you pissed her off missing or…” I questioned, just to make sure we covered all of our bases, as I sat on the end of his bed to pull my shoes on.

 “I thought that at first, so I followed her tracks in the snow, but then there were more tracks and then some tire tracks and…” I noted that Dean was starting to breathe heavier than was strictly necessary, holding a hand to his chest like someone who might be having a heart attack.

 “Hey,” I jumped up once I had my shoes on to put a hand on his shoulder. “Dude, calm down, Dean. We’ll find her. Maybe she had someone pick her up?” I’d never seen Dean lose composure so fast, noting the bright red flush that was shining like nuclear waste. “And why would they just take her when we were here, too? Where’s Cliff?”

 “There was blood in the snow, Sam. I don’t know who’s it was or why they would just take her or why Cliff decided he HAD to have a goddamned espresso at four fucking a.m....!” He swallowed loudly a few times before he zipped up his bag. His chest was still heaving when he threw his bag over his shoulder. “Cliff’s already dealing with the police. He said it would take them a little while to get out here, but that we should get back into town in case they’re still hanging around.”

 “What about her stuff, is it still here?” Something wasn’t adding up, a sick feeling settled heavily in my gut. But, between my brother’s strange behavior and the mystery of Y/N’s sudden disappearance, I wasn’t sure what to concentrate on first.

 “I already packed it, let’s get the fuck out of here.” He shouldered his way through the door way, his body hunched like he had just come back from running a marathon. There was definitely something going on with Dean that he wasn’t telling me, but it would have to wait.

 “Okay, but I’m driving.”

 Dean had reluctantly given over the keys after a few snarky remarks. The entire drive to the house my attention was split between the road and keeping an eye on Dean. Not having anything to do wasn’t doing him any favors as he bounced his leg nervously, but about halfway to our destination, he’d stopped heaving. Now he was just rubbing his chest periodically. It was kind of like the time we’d wrestled until Dean had pulled a pectoral muscle. My best guess was that now he had an anxiety issue.

 He had always been bad about internalizing everything, Mom’s death and Dad’s downward spiral included. He just never opened up about that stuff and usually blamed himself. It didn’t matter how many times our father himself had told Dean that he didn’t blame him for Mom’s death. He’d always feel like he’d been the reason no one was home to help her. It was a shame because he’d been so good at it, but he’d stopped playing baseball after that. Partly out of necessity because Dad was in no shape to foster a love of sports. But also because Dean went through a period of not speaking and went through child psychologists like ice cream flavors.

 So, it made sense to me that it could all have been bottled up and chose right now to surface. It wouldn’t have been triggered by his own wellbeing having been threatened. It was only because of my involvement and now, Y/N’s. I think it had snuck up on him. How much he cared for her, even if she was far from perfect. Even though I was incredibly worried about Dean’s issue, it would have to wait because Y/N was missing and if anything happened to her Dean’s problems would only be compounded.

 This entire time that things had been going wacky, I’d had this odd sensation that we didn’t know everything. Which, of course we didn’t, it was a mystery unraveling fast. However, the puzzle pieces that we had to fit together this morning weren’t fitting right. Why had Cliff left? He’d been told to watch the house. We didn’t set him up with a shot gun at the front window, but the instructions to keep an eye open had been quite clear. We’d trusted him because he’d never let us down before, but what would make him leave his post midmorning, long enough for the shit to hit the fan?

 “Maybe we shouldn’t go straight back home. I mean, the house is kind of burned to a crisp right now. It can’t be safe.”

 Dean who hadn’t said a word since we’d left, jumped at the sound of my voice in the otherwise quiet car. Startling easy was yet another symptom of anxiety and I filed that away for a future discussion. “What, why? Cliff said he’d meet us there.”

 I could tell Dean’s worry for Y/N was clouding his judgement, but I had a really bad feeling about all of this. With our history, I’d learned to trust that intuition. “Okay, but why not the police department, huh? Why go somewhere we’ll be isolated in a house we can’t secure?”

 I could see Dean sifting through the information that we knew for certain, his expression becoming more and more troubled until 3… 2… 1… “Son of a bitch!” He punched the glove box with a hard right swing, then cursed in a screeching voice as he cradled his wrist to his chest as he kicked futilely at the dashboard.

 Only able to shake my head at Dean’s behavior, I turned down the road that would take us away from home and closer to the police station. Our only hope now if Cliff had gone over to the dark side was an outside source. Possibly even the two grumpy old detectives, Bobby and Rufus, who’d done nothing but doubt and question every word we said. And still, there was a possibility that they’d been compromised as well. We were just finding out the reach of the CEO’s influence and it didn’t bode well for us.

 “Fuck!” Dean shouted again, keeping his fist and feet to himself this time. “God, why does that make so much sense now, huh? We let him in her apartment! He found those bugs so quickly and I just thought he was good at his job… He’s been with our family for fucking years! Since before Mom died!”

 Dean’s face was getting red again, so I hurried to control the situation. “We don’t know anything for sure, Dean. But I think we ought to be at least cautious when it comes to him. First we have to file a missing person’s report.”

 He shoved his good hand through his hair roughly, “They’re gonna wait until she’s been missing for 24 hours, Sammy. She can’t wait that long.” There was a desperation in his voice that I hadn’t heard in a long time and it had never pertained to anyone outside the family before. That’s when it dawned on me.

 At first I’d thought Dean’s fascination with her had been one born out of guilt and the need to protect someone from the fate that our mother had suffered. She was easily attractive and Dean had always had trouble resisting a pretty girl with innocent eyes. But, from Dean’s reaction, it had progressed when I hadn’t been paying attention. The severity of his reaction pointed towards their relationship being more than just convenient. Don’t get me wrong, I liked her. She was cool, if not a little crazy, but Dean didn’t fall in love. He’d been burned too many times. Too many responsibilities, real or imagined, rested on his shoulders. I felt horrible for my brother, knowing for a fact that Dean couldn’t afford to lose someone else. “We’ll find her Dean.”

 He rolled his eyes dramatically at my tone. After a quiet moment of only the sounds of Baby, his expression morphed into something of determination. “Okay, we’ll tell the police. File a report or whatever, but then we’re gonna park the Impala and go scope out home. If he’s got her there, we may be her only hope. And I swear to God…” His green eyes sparkled like flint sparking a fire, “If he’s hurt her in anyway, I’ll fucking kill him.”

 Tagging: Forevers: @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @jensen-gal, @theoneandonlysaucymo, @27bmm, @callmesatansprincess, @hbenth, @keepcalmandcarryondean, @sea040561, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @spn67-sister, @uniquewerewolfsuit, @ria132love, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @tas898, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @atc74, @tiffanycaruso, @ryansgirl5509, @mysteriouslyme82, @notnaturalanahi

[daisy-chain-gardens]

Exchange Romance - Part 4

Part 1: https://daisy-chain-gardens.tumblr.com/post/162913902685/exchange-romance

Part 2: https://daisy-chain-gardens.tumblr.com/post/162947052535/exchange-romance-part-2

Part 3: https://daisy-chain-gardens.tumblr.com/post/163574533070/exchange-romance-part-3

A/N: Hey guys! I had a lot of trouble writing this part and I’m not that happy with how it turned out but I hope you guys like it! A huge thanks to @marieherondalebookfangirl for being super supportive and enthusiastic about this story and also for giving me the song ideas for this part. The songs mentioned are ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go’ by Wham! and ‘Northern Wind’ by City and Colour.  Please let me know what you think.

Summary: Betty and Jughead’s first school dance together

Word Count: 4450

As soon as Fred let him take a break from lifting rocks, Jughead all but ran into the break room to grab his phone and text hid doe eyed girlfriend an apology for disappearing so early that morning. He’d wanted to wake her up to say goodbye but he couldn’t do it. She’d looked so peaceful, such a contrast to how he’d found her the morning before. A small smile played on her lips and Jughead found himself wondering what dreams were gracing her with their presence at this time of the morning. He’d pushed a stray strand of her golden hair behind her ear before kissing her gently on the forehead, lips soft so as not to pull her away from her dreams. He had left her a note, explaining his mysterious absence, but he still felt bad. In true Betty fashion, she’d been the one to text him first. Thank you, Jughead. His whole being seemed brighter with his goofy smile. She’d read his letter.

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

The Saturday after Betty’s birthday, Betty and Jughead were sitting on an armchair in the Lodge’s library. The blonde was sitting on her boyfriend’s lap as his voice filled the cozy room. His arms were wrapped around her as he held the book in front of them, reading aloud from the ink covered pages as Betty played with the hair that had fallen from his beanie. They stayed that way for a long time, interrupted in the middle of the afternoon by the sound of a phone ringing. Betty pulled hers out of her pocket and answered the call before she realised who it was.

“Elizabeth! Nice of you to finally pick up.” The harsh sound of her mother’s voice pulled Betty out of the dream-like state that Jughead’s voice had lulled her into.

“Mum. I wasn’t expecting you to call. Is everything alright?” Betty sounded slightly concerned as she tried to move off of Jughead’s lap before her mother could see him.

“Everything is fine Elizabeth, why wouldn’t it be? I was just wondering what your plans were for this weekend. Hermione emailed me that there was some sort of school dance you were hoping to attend,” Alice’s eyebrows raised in question. Betty let out the breath she was holding when her mum didn’t ask who she was with.

“Yes, mum. I’m going with Ju-, I’m going with some friends.” She wasn’t technically lying since she was going to the dance with Ronnie and Archie as well. She didn’t want to tell her mother about Jughead because she knew exactly how she would react. She would start by talking about how disappointed she was in her youngest daughter, say something about how Betty was going to end up like Polly (not that Betty saw this as a bad thing), rant about how she was letting herself get distracted at such an important time of her life, and then threaten to get her sent back to New Zealand. Betty had heard this speech countless times; whenever she got a mark less than an excellence or was too busy to fulfill all of her commitments, her mother would bring out the speech. Betty would sit there quietly, pushing her nails into her palm to prevent her from yelling at her mother and making the situation worse. She didn’t want to have to deal with that over Skype, thousands of kilometers away from her sister, the only one who could make her feel better. Betty ignored the quizzical look that Jughead was giving her in favour of looking down at the rich carpet under her feet.

“Well be careful, Elizabeth. I don’t want you out too late, you know how difficult it is to hide the bags under your eyes when you don’t sleep for eight hours.” Betty tried not to roll her eyes at her mother’s comment. Jughead observed the conversation from the chair, not having moved since Betty left his lap minutes ago. Betty had told him that her mother was a bit overbearing at sometimes but he found himself oddly jealous. Here she was, on the other side of the world from her parents but they still made an effort to worry about her wellbeing. Sure, they may have gone slightly overboard but he would take more over less anyday. His Dad lived in the same town as him but Jughead couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a conversation with him, much less bugged him about his sleep patterns. Jughead stood up out of the chair and mimed to Betty that he was going to grab a drink of water as her mother babbled on about a new diet she had been researching.

“Is there someone there with you Elizabeth?” Betty’s eyes widened with shock and Jughead froze mid stride.

“Umm, yeah, mum. This is my um, this is my friend Jughead.”

“Hi Mrs. Cooper. It’s nice to meet you.” Jughead tried to put on his most charming smile as he walked over to Betty so he could be seen on the tiny screen. Betty could hear the discomfort in his voice and placed a hand on his back, moving it in small circles.

“Jughead? That’s an … interesting name. Are you going to be taking Betty to the school dance this weekend,” Alice asked, as if this was a normal thing to bring up in conversation.

“Yes Mrs. Cooper. Well, Veronica, Archie, Betty and I are all going together,” replied Jughead, remembering Betty’s response earlier. His girlfriend sent him a grateful smile as she continued to rub his back. He placed him hand on her thigh and squeezed gently.

“Elizabeth, you never told me you were going with boys. I’m not sure how I feel about this, maybe you should stay at home and work on that science project you told me you were struggling with.” Jughead had to fight back a laugh. Betty struggling with a project? Not only was that idea absurd, he happened to know that she’d finished that project a week ago, the day after it was assigned. He kept his mouth shut but made a mental note to ask her about her it later.

“Mum, really it’s fine. Archie is going out with V so there’s going to be absolutely no problem there and Jughead and I are … we’re just friends. I’m sure he’ll be the perfect gentlemen. “ She looked over at he boyfriend and had to refrain from kissing the shy smile right off his face.

“Yes, I’m sure he will be Elizabeth but you know how I feel about dances, especially after what happened to Polly.” Jughead noticed Betty’s hand holding the phone tightening, knuckles turning white. He squeezed her thigh again and she relaxed slightly. Jughead could tell that Betty was on edge and he wanted to comfort her, but he also didn’t want to piss off Alice. He found her intimidating enough as it is and he was pretty sure she was trying to be polite.

“It’ll be fine Mum. Besides, I thought that you wanted me to get the full american high school experience. This dance is just a part of that. I promise not to stay out late. I won’t drink or do drugs or whatever other wild things you seem to think happen at school dances. I’m going to this dance mother, with or without your permission.” Betty’s voice had started out a bit shaky after the mention of her sister but by the end of it, Alice’s mouth was open in shock.

“Elizabeth Cooper, that is no way to talk to your mother. You’re getting more and more like Po-”

“Gotta go mum, bye!” Betty said quickly while clicking that small red button. She let out a huge sigh before embracing Jughead in a tight hug. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she whispered into his chest. Jughead wrapped his arm around his girlfriend, noting how small and tired she looked, a complete contrast to how she’d looked while he was reading. He scooped her up in his arms.

“Do you want me to keep reading?” he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the tired atmosphere present in the large room. She nodded in response as he walked over to the chair and settling them into their previous position.

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

“B, you know I love you, but there's no way you’re wearing that to a school dance. Or anywhere. Ever.” Ronnie pulled the grey dress from Betty’s arms and threw it swiftly into the bin.

“I know but I wasn’t exactly thinking about school dances when I was packing my suitcase so now I have nothing to wear,” Betty groaned as she flopped onto her bed dramatically.

“You must have forgotten who you’re talking B. It’s lucky we’re almost the same size.” Betty opened her mouth to protest but her raven haired host sister was already out of the room. Veronica returned moments later, arms piled high with dresses of all shapes and colours. She couldn’t help herself, the blonde reached out a hand to touch the mountain of fabric.

“Oh my goodness, these are gorgeous V! I love them all but, knowing you, you’ve probably already picked one out for me,” she chuckled. Ronnie reached for a silvery blue dress that was hidden in the middle of the pile.

“Of course, I saw this in my wardrobe and instantly thought of you. Go try it on, I’ll wait here.” She took the dress from Ronnie’s grasp and walked into the bathroom. The fabric was soft under her fingers and seemed to sparkle under the fluorescent lights. She slipped it on before walking back into her room.

“Hey V can you help zi-” she didn’t even get the chance to finish her sentence before Veronica had jumped up from her spot on the bed.

“Oh my god! B! That dress looks like it was made for you. Jughead is going to have a heart attack when he sees you,” Ronnie gushed as she pulled the zip up Betty’s back, closing the dress while pushing her over towards the mirror. Betty gasped. She looked … elegant, sophisticated. She looked different. But she liked it.

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

On Saturday, Betty felt like a queen. She’d been to dances before but it had never felt like such a big deal. Various people were coming in and out of the apartment to help the girls get ready. Hermione was even present for a while to get her nails done for an event she was going to that night. Many hours later, the doorbell rang. Hermione floated over and opened the door.

“Hello boys, looking very handsome tonight,” she commented, stepping aside to allow the boys into the apartment.

“Thanks Mrs. Lodge. Are the girls ready?” Archie asked politely.

“They should be out in a minute. Now, Hiram and I are flying to New York for an event tonight so we won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be checking in with Veronica though and I expect her and Betty to be home at midnight, alright? Have a good night.” And with that she was gone, leaving the boys all alone in the large apartment, waiting for their girlfriends.

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

“I’m pretty sure I just heard the door.”

“It’ll just be the boys, Betty. Nobody ever got hurt from a little bit of suspense,” Ronnie smirked before fixing up her lipstick. While Veronica looked like the definition of confidence, Betty couldn’t sit still. Her knee was bouncing up and down impatiently while her long nails kept running through the ends of her wavy hair.

“Ok, perfect,” Ronnie said to her reflection. “You ready to knock ‘em dead?” She raised a perfect eyebrow after turning around to face the nervous blonde. “B, breathe. You look incredible and is Jughead’s jaw isn’t on the floor when he sees you I will personally kick his ass.” Betty smiled slightly at the thought of her host sister kicking anyone’s ass let alone Jughead’s. She stood up off the bed and followed Veronica into the living room.

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

The boys stood up off the couch at the sound of two sets of heels walking down the long hallway. The girls burst through the door in a fit of laughter, heads thrown back carelessly as if they were unaware that they had company. Ronnie strutted over to Archie, greeting him with a kiss and a flashy smile, wrapping her arms around his neck. Betty was stuck in the doorway. Her feet wouldn’t move. Jughead was breathtaking. His beanie was nowhere to be found and his dark hair hung messily around his face. His tie was made of the same silvery blue material of her dress but his smile was what really stopped her in her tracks. It was shy and sweet and so perfectly Jughead.

He’d noticed that she wasn’t moving but he couldn’t either. She always looked beautiful but tonight was something different. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders and her eyes looked more lighter than normal. She moved towards him and Jughead could have sworn she was walking in slow motion. When Betty finally reached him she kissed him softly on the cheek.

“Hi Juggie. You look really good,” she whispered in his ear, arms around his neck.

“You look gorgeous Betts,” he whispered back, feeling the heat of her blush against his cheek. Once again, Veronica’s voice interrupted them.

“Ok ok, we get it, you both look amazing but we need to go, Smithers is late,” she stated, turning on her heel and walking out the door.

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

Even though she knew that this was the same gym she had P.E in every day, Betty couldn’t help feeling like she’d walked onto a movie set. She’d helped organise dances for her school in New Zealand but they were never anything like this. Fairy lights were draped along the walls and the hung from the ceiling, making the gym feel soft and cozy. White flowers sat in the middle of the elegant tables as fake snow floated around the room. Jughead watched Betty’s awe with a smile on his face, her childish reaction reminding him of their snowball fight the week before.

“Do they always look like this?” Betty asked as she continued to look around the room.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never actually been to a school dance before,” Jughead answered with a shrug. “But Cheryl is always in charge of decorations so probably. She’s a bit of a perfectionist so everything she does is above and beyond.” He squeezes her hand and sends her a small smile.

“Well I think it looks incredible. School dances in New Zealand are a bit more about how many guys you can get with and who can sneak in the most alcohol. They definitely don’t look like this,” she giggled, still awestruck by her surroundings.

“Just because we’ve got fake snow doesn’t mean that people aren’t trying to get drunk,” Jughead smirked.

“Of course, silly me. Guess we won’t be drinking the punch then,” she said in mock disappointment.

“Haha, we’re not that cliche. Do you want to go and find Ron and Arch and grab a seat? I don’t really know how we’re supposed to act at these things.” A shy blush reddened his cheek. Betty reached over and grabbed his other hand, forcing him to face her. “Juggie, I don’t care that you’ve never been to a school dance before, although I don’t understand why if they all look like this,” she jokes. “Just try to relax and have fun, ok?” His small smile answers her question as she lets go of one of his hands, using the other one to drag him over to where Ronnie and Arch were jumping up and down in the middle of the gym.

“I think I see a spare table over there, want me to take you scarf?” Jughead yelled to be heard over the music. Betty nodded and passed him her scarf, wishing that he would stay and dance but understanding that this wasn’t really his scene. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd of students.

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

Jughead had figured he would stay at the table for the rest of the night under the guise of watching his friend’s coats but once he’d walked over to the table, the only thing he wanted to do was go back and be with Betty. She looked so beautiful tonight and he didn’t want to be away from her for another second. He spotted the metallic fabric of her dress shining from the middle of the crowd, making her look like a real life snowflake among the fairy lights and the snow. He made his way through the mess of bodies singing Wham! off key.

Wake me up before you go-go

Don’t you dare to leave me hangin’ on like a yo-yo

The raven haired boy rolled his eyes and cringed simultaneously. Of course they’re playing this at a school dance. They couldn’t possibly play music that people can listen to without having to worry about their ear drums bursting. As he was pushing through the sea of limbs, the screeching faded out, replace by a slower melody which didn’t leave Jughead wanting to stab himself repeatedly.

You’re the Northern wind

Sending shivers down my spine

You’re like fallen leaves

In an autumn night

His eyes locked with Betty’s and he was frozen for the second time that night. Jughead swore she was even more breathtaking than she had been since she saw him five minutes ago. She was the first one to move, again, gliding towards him without breaking eye contact. Betty reached her boyfriend after what felt like a lifetime, stopping only inches away from him.

“May I have this dance?” Jughead questioned with a small bow, bringing his face right in front of hers, allowing Betty to get lost in his piercing blue eyes.

“I guess you may,” she giggled into a slow curtsy before standing up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He placed his hands gently on her hips, pulling her into his chest. They started swaying back and forth in time to the ballad, eyes saying all of the words they couldn’t.

You’re the lullaby

That’s singing me to sleep

You ar the other half

You’re like a missing piece

Betty let out a small sigh, causing Jughead to pull away slightly to look down at her angelic face.

“Everything alright Betts?” Jughead’s voice was laced with worry, his brow furrowing.

“Never been better,” she replied with a smile, pulling herself back towards her boyfriend before standing up on her toes to place a soft kiss on his lips.

Fireworks. As cliche as it sounds, that’s the only word that seems to come close to describing how Jughead felt when Betty kissed him. His hands move from her waist to cup her face before he could give a second thought to where they are. Her fingers start to play with the curly hairs on the back of his neck as her smile grows wider against his lips. Betty had only kissed a couple of boys before but none of them had ever made her feel like this. Her knees were going weak with pleasure as he deepened the kiss further, his thumb slowly rubbing along her cheekbone before running through her hair.

Oh my love

You don’t know

What you do to me

Someone bumped into Betty’s back, forcing her to jump away from Jughead in shock. She blinked a few times, eyes wide, almost as if she was waking up from a dream. Jughead’s face was still warped into a warm smile at the sight of her like this; hair tousled from his touch, lipstick smudged from his lips, and eyes dark with desire. She looked different, sexy.

“After that I don’t know why I haven’t come to more school dances,” he smirked, earning him a playful punch on the arm. He rubbed with a fake frown on his face, playing along with Betty’s games.

“Trust me, it’s not always like that,” her voice dripping with desire as she stepped back into her boyfriend's, arms returning to their position around his neck in an attempt to continue dancing.

You are all four seasons

Rolled into one

You're like the cold December snow

In the warm July sun

“You really are something else Betts, you know that?” Jughead whispered as they swayed to the beat. Betty let her head rest on his chest, smiling as she remembered the first time he said those words to her. It felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at the same time. So much had changed in such a short amount of time but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You wanna get out of here Juggie?” Betty asked, lifting her head from his chest to meet his eyes.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” he grinned as he reached for her hand, slowly pulling her toward the open door.

Oh my love

You don’t know

What you do to me

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

The bell over the door rang softly throughout the diner, signalling the arrival of the two new customers. Veronica and Archie slid into their usual booth across from their friends, milkshake glasses and burger wrappers already empty.

“What caused you two lovebirds to leave so early?” Ronnie asked, eyebrows raised as she stole a fry from the basket in front of Betty.

“We just weren’t really in the mood,” the blonde replied nonchalantly, flashing a knowing grin at Jughead.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Veronica said dramatically. “We’ll have girl talk later B.” Betty’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at what her host sister was inferring.

“Any chance you guys are in the mood for a movie?” Said Archie, changing the subject, causing Betty to send him a grateful look.

“Do you even need to ask?” Jughead replied, already standing up to help Betty climb out of the red booth.

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

Ronnie ended up choosing ‘The Notebook’ as the movie of the night, then falling asleep ten minutes in.

“Not only is she punishing us by making us watch this overworked cliche, she doesn’t even have enough decency to stay awake and listen to me complaining,” Jughead mumbled into Betty’s ear from where he was sitting beside her.

“I’m going to let Ronnie sleep in my bed because she’ll probably kill me if I let her sleep on the couch. Don’t stay up too late Jug,” Archie called out as he started carrying his girlfriend up the stairs.

“Oh how the tables turn,” Jughead quipped, his redheaded friend laughing as he walked out of view. “So Betts,” his grin widening, “whaddya wanna watch?” He changed his voice into the awful accent Betty had only had the displeasure of hearing once before. She cringed before replying.

“Really Jug? All of this time hanging out with me and you’re still doing that awful semi-australian accent. Guess we’ll just have to talk more,” Betty said in mock disappointment and she snuggled into Jughead’s side.

“Or we could do some not talking,” he suggested playfully, leaning down to plant soft kisses on her neck.

“Jug! Stop! That tickles!” She squealed, squirming under his mouth. His eyes twinkled as his long fingers danced across her sides, leaving her giggling and squealing under him. She quickly pressed her lips up to his, surprising him into stilling his fingers. She pushed him off her and kissed him again, this time lingering long enough to take in the sweet smell that could only be described as purely Jughead. “You want to keep watching this? I can’t be bothered moving,” Betty confessed, eyes already trained on the screen.

“Anything for you Betts,” Jughead whispered into her hair before leaving a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Only for you.”

The last thing remembers seeing is Noah and Ally rowing in the rain, before closing her eyes and eventually feeling heavy tears falling on her head.

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

Fred Andrews lumbered down the stairs early in the morning, far too early to be walking around without caffeine in his system. He’d done this so many times that he stumbled through the living room with his eyes closed, reaching the kitchen and blindly reaching for the on switch on the coffee machine. The beverage was eventually hot and Fred poured half of it into his mug, taking a giant gulp before finally opening his eyes and plodding back into the living room to watch the news before he had to head off to the construction site.

He stopped in the doorway before rubbing his eyes, hard, to make sure he wasn’t still asleep. There on the couch lay Betty and Jughead, sound asleep and wrapped up in each other’s arms, both still wearing their clothes from last night. Fred rolled his eyes before turning on the tTV at full volume. Betty jumped up at the noise, bumping her head on Jughead’s chin. His eyes eyes opened slowly until he saw Fred standing over them. Betty was already sitting up, hands smoothing the front of her dress and trying to tame her hair discreetly.

“Morning guys. How was the dance?” Fred asked the pair nonchalantly, taking another gulp of coffee from the steaming mug in his hand.

“It was um, it was good thanks.” Jughead said nervously, running a hand through his hair and wishing he was wearing his beanie. “Hey, um look, Fred, about all this-”

“Jug, calm down. I’m not gonna ground you or anything but just be careful ok? Don’t rush into anything you’re not ready for.” Betty’s face had turned the colour of Archie’s hair and Jughead was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Anyways, by the looks of you two that was punishment enough so I’m just gonna head off to work. Oh, and we’re out of milk.” Fred left his coffee mug on the coffee table and was grabbing his coat as the door opened slowly. Archie stepped through it, closing it softly to reduce the sound of the lock closing. He tiptoed towards the stairs as his dad turned the corner, slamming right into him. “Oh hey Dad, um , I was just, um, at the store, ah, getting some milk for breakfast.”

Jughead chuckled from his spot on the couch, noting how stupid Archie’s lie was considering it was five in the morning and he was still wearing his tuxedo from the night before. Fred obviously noted his son’s attire, and his lack of milk, before letting out a huge sigh and walking out the door. Archie looked at the giggling pair on the couch.

“What?”

[one-true-houselight]

A dude needs to find his pet dragon who is attracted by (insert item here) I AM NOT CREATIVE SORRY

MY DEAR FRIEND YOU ARE CREATIVE.

Terry slowly opened his eyes and groaned at the sunlight stabbing him in the face. He looked over at the clock and read 7:23.

“Alicia, you know not to open the freaking curtain while I’m still asleep.” Terry waited for the guttural tones of his pet’s reply, but was instead greeted by silence. He decided that she probably bumped into it during the night and was currently somewhere else in the house. He dragged the blankets back over his head as he curled into a ball. He had gotten in from work at 1 the night before after striking a three truck show, like he’ll he was going to let a bit of sunlight wake him up…

When he was jolted awake a few hours later, his mind was filled with the cobwebs that come after waking up from sleep you didn’t realize had started. He looked over at the clock as he slowly started piecing his current condition together. 11:37.

‘Well,’ he thought, ‘not bad, considering the last couple of days.’ He hadn’t started work later than 9:30 that week, and usually started much earlier.

As he reflected on his work schedule, the catalyst for his awakening repeated itself: a loud knock at the door. He sighed and swung his legs out of bed. When he looked down at them, he saw they were clad with the pants he had been wearing the night before. He must have been more tired than he thought…

He peeked out the window next to the door and let out an almost inaudible squeak. It was Sage, a friend from down the street that he may or may not have been harboring feelings for. Terry cursed and tried to fix his hair. He gave up when he reached the door, which he flung open. He realized it was unlocked. However, before he could think about the implications of that fact, Sage barreled into his home.

“Sage, good to see you. Want some-”

“We don’t have time. Damn, are you ok? You look like hell.” Sage looked a little rumpled themselves, but Terry knew they didn’t hold a candle to his no-doubt messy state.

“I’m fine, late call last night. What are you doing here?” Sage turned around and squinted at him.

“I saw Alicia. Since I didn’t see you with her, I wanted to check on you.” They said this with what to anyone else would sound like obviously calculated nonchalance, but Terry was too busy trying not to be flattered at their concern for his wellbeing. “But you’re fine. So why was Alicia outside?”

“Wait. You saw Alicia outside?” The fact that had been pushed away a few minutes ago-the unlocked door-came tumbling back into his mind. “CRAP,” he yelled as he ran to the kitchen. His worries were confirmed when he rounded the corner: a large, glowing moth was sitting by Alicia’s dish, smirking (at least, as much as a moth can smirk). Terry rocked forward a little bit as Sage ran into him, and proceeded to ignore their mumbled apologies and uncharacteristic blush in favor of cursing out the moth.

Sage composed themselves and stared at their friend, confusion and admiration fighting for dominance on their face. They of course recognized the moth as one of the spells gone awry by Louise. She was trying to make extra potent mothballs, but instead conjured a bunch of these otherworldly insects. Sage had never been terribly bothered by them, but they couldn’t communicate with them.

Terry, on the other hand, had a head for languages-literally. He was another magic user, and part of the way his powers manifested was in the ability to understand and communicate in almost any language. He and Sage had a friend from the far away land of New York, New York and Terry was only able to get about half of what he said like everyone else. But he was able to talk to the moths, and was using that power in earnest in front of Sage.

Sage took the chance to look at Terry. They were both ace, which is one of the reasons they became friends, but Sage had started falling for him romantically over the last month. They didn’t fall for people unless they were close friends, so it was kind of a compliment. At least, that’s what Sage said to themselves in order to escape the terror of possibly ruining their friendship. Sage knew there was no way Terry felt anything for them, so they decided to do what they always did: ignore the feelings in the hopes they would crawl back into whatever hole they came from.

Terry was pissed. He had been dealing with Thomas (the moth) for a few weeks now. When the moths had first appeared in the colored smoke, he had been walking with Alicia about a quarter of a mile away. When he saw the explosion, he started running. It took him almost thirty seconds and Alicia’s yelling to remind him to cast Quick Feet. Louise was basically his aunt: when his family had disowned him for a pile of reasons (they couldn’t decide whether his aceness or his magic was worse, so they had creative insults for both), Louise took him in and taught him everything she could. He was able to go to a local school for magic when he came of age, and now lived on his own, but he still visited Louise whenever he had a moment.

Seeing an explosion at her house freaked him out. When he got there, he was relieved to find the house undisturbed. But when he walked up to the door, he had to duck as a wave of a couple dozen of the glowing insects shot out. Louise came running out behind them, sliding to a stop on the slick stones making up her garden path.

“Terry! You look like you’re dying. Did you run for me, bless you.” Terry was out of breath, and therefore could only cock his head in confusion. Louise saw this as a cue to continue. “I thought I had perfected my formula for those highly effective moth balls-don’t you roll your eyes, boy-but when I finished, those bloo-sorry dear, things appeared.”

“Are we going… to get rid of them?” Terry was still gasping, but was finally able to make noise. His question was met with an affronted look from Louise.

“What did I teach you? Unless it is going to severely endanger someone, we don’t just get rid of living things we create, even if they are mistakes.” She looked off after the iridescent cloud. “Well, as long as you’re here, I might as well feed you. Where’s Alicia?”

Terry looked behind him as he started to answer, but cut himself off when he realized Alicia was nowhere to be found. He called out, but didn’t get a response. He turned to Louise in a panic. She tutted and went inside, gesturing him to follow.

“If nothing else works, dragons can be summoned by a single thing they have imprinted themselves onto. Now, in the days of yore, this was usually a piece of their treasure they hold in particularly high favor. However, a modern dragon requires a modern solution.”

“But I have no idea what her object might be! It could be anything. I need to go home and try all her stuff-”

Louise grabbed him by the shoulders until he talked himself into silence. “I have a theory. I’ve observed something interesting when you two visit. Whenever I pull out my apple cobbler, she always appears very quickly. Almost too quickly.”

Terry stared at her. “You think your Apple cobbler is her summoning object.” She looked offended, and Terry quickly backpedaled. “I mean, it’s perfectly good. Delicious, actually. It’s just-”

Before he could finish, he heard a familiar growl behind him. “Did I smell cobbler? Christ, it’s almost like it drew me here, it’s so good.” Terry tried (and failed) to avoid Louise’s 'I told you so’ look.

“Alicia! Where the hell did you go?”

“I was hiding. From those rainbow abominations.”

“You were scared of them?” She nodded. Terry’s mind raced. Maybe she knew them in the monster realm! Were they fearsome beasts? Did they do something to her? “Why? Are they your sworn enemy? Did they-”

“No.” She rolled her eyes and then shuddered. “They’re just creepy. Isn’t that enough? God, you’re so dramatic.” She nodded thanks to Louise as she was handed cobbler. Terry stood dumbfounded.

Two weeks later, he was arguing with one of them. 'If only I had known how annoying they would be back then,’ he thought. He filtered out the numerous curses before speaking again to the smug moth. “Didn’t I tell you to get lost?”

The moth lounged on the counter. “But scaring that stupid dragon is such fun. How could you expect me to resist?” Terry clenched his fists. He jumped a bit when Sage tapped him on the shoulder.

“What’s going on?” They had been standing there for about two minutes and were getting impatient. The only reason they had lasted this long was the fact that they had gotten to admire Terry- nope.

“Sorry Sage. Let me tap you in.” Terry was able to patch people into the translations: they couldn’t talk, but could hear both sides of the conversation. He put his hand to their forehead, and ignored the heat in the tips of his ears.

He had fallen for Sage the moment he met them, but knew someone as amazing as they were wound never like him. He was surprised enough they were his friend. And that was another thing: even if they weren’t out of his league, their friendship was too important. No, he was perfectly content with things the way they were. This train of thought was pushed from his mind as the moth prattled on.

“Damn it, get out of my house.” The moth chuckled at Terry’s anger and flew right over his head and out the open door. “God, he’s such a nuisance.”

“That doesn’t explain why you yelled and ran to the kitchen.”

“Alicia hates those things. And Thomas there thinks it’s funny to scare her. And I think I left the door unlocked last night, so she probably ran out the door when she saw him.” Shaw nodded, which made them both realize Terry still had his hand on their head. He jerked it away and muttered an apology, which trailed off into an awkward silence. It wasn’t broken until Sage straightened up and spoke.

“Well, I guess we have to go find her. You want to get changed?” Terry looked down at his slept in clothes and nodded. “Ok. I’ll wait here?”

“That’s fine. Once I’m ready, we can go to Louise’s place.”

“Wait. What?” Sage stopped Terry from turning. “You know I love her too. But why do we need to go to her?”

Terry smiled slightly. “I’ll explain on the way. We need to get some apple cobbler.”

Yikes this became a thing. I will write more at some point. Thanks for this!

[ewatsonia]

Too Far Gone

Set during the Jacques Route. After hearing about Caddy's run in with Hana, Ian tries to see about talking some sense into her. That goes just about as well as you'd expect.

Who wants some Jacques route angst~?

Probably nobody, but oh well!

Ian wasn’t sure if he was the only one to notice, or if the others just hadn’t wanted to bring it up, yet regardless, something was up with James at dinner that day. He’d come to the table kind of...trembling and hadn’t spoken a word. Ian didn’t know what James had been up to prior, but whatever it was, it looked like it unnerved him.

Now, he and him had their rivalry thing, but when it came down to it, despite what some people may have observed(and their denials of it), James was his friend. And Ian most certainly took issue with his friends being upset. Though, he decided against asking about it in front of everyone else, nothing provokes lying about how you’re feeling like being asked in front of a whole group of people, even if the group consisted of your closest friends.

Plus, the two of them had an image to maintain, didn’t they?

Ian was given ample opportunity to confront him alone. As he and the rest of Hidden Block began to scatter, to go about whatever plans they each had for tonight, he took note of James still just...sitting at the table, staring blankly at his tray. That was not a good sign.

Ian went back to the table and cleared his throat next to his clubmate. “James, everyone’s gone, you gonna sit there all night?”

James mumbled something, some kind of vague agreement that gave Ian the impression he hadn’t actually heard what he said, or even noticed that it was just the pair of them left. Ian raised his voice. “James.”

He sighed getting a tad annoyed, and prodded his shoulder a few times. “Caddy, are you in there?”

Apparently Ian actually using his nickname was enough to jar him out of whatever weird stupor he was in. James’ head jolted towards him, then to the now empty table. His brows drew together and his eyes returned to Ian, clearly having missed something.

“Did everyone leave already?” he asked. Geez, he’d really been out of it.

“Uh, yeah dude. Got a few screws loose today?” Ian deigned not to be too nice or visibly concerned towards him. Normalcy and everything.

“Kind of...Got a little spooked earlier is all.” James waved a hand dismissively, and began collecting his garbage into his tray. He suddenly stopped, tray smacking down onto the table, and suspicion flickered in his eyes as he suddenly remembered he and Ian normally didn’t get along. “Why do you care, Moosey?”

Ian returned it with a smirk. “It’s my job to fuck with you James. What kind of ‘spook’ are we talking about?”

James scratched the back of his neck. “This going to sound...weird.”

“I’m being nice to you, this is already weird.” Ian replied, an eyebrow darting up. James snorted, but the amusement was short lived.

“Er...You’ve noticed the odd stuff with Hana lately right?” James looked around and his voice noticeably lowered in volume.. Like he was nervous she’d pop out at the mention of her name “With...Jacques?”

Oh. That.

Yeah, Ian had noticed his friend’s bizarre behavior and attachment to Jacques. You’d be hard pressed to find someone who hadn’t. To be perfectly honest, he hadn’t really been faulting Hana, Ian had never been a huge fan of Jon’s companion in the first place. He may have a...theory or two about the robot bird messing with her head.

“Did you see Jacques...do something to her?” Ian asked, wondering if he was about to get some validation for his speculations.

“No.” James answered. “I went to see her about giving Jacques back to Jon. I mean you’ve seen how much of a wreck he is without him.  And how much of a wreck Hana’s been with him.”

Ian nodded. How long had it been since he’d seen Hana in class…?

“She...didn’t like that. She yelled at me and then when I said she was overreacting, she  threatened me.” James said the words as if despite being there, he was in as much disbelief about it as Ian was. (Hana, threatening someone? Hana?) James ran his still shaking hands through his hair. “I know it all sounds ridiculous but the look on her face was terrifying, Moose. Like she was ready to do something batshit, and I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Christ.” was the only response Ian could muster. He’d heard about her being kind of nasty to Jon but Jon was rather dramatic at times...

“Yeah…” There was a lull in the conversation, and the two boys noticed at once that they were some of the last ones left in the cafeteria. The club had already been eating kind of late, any longer and the workers might be kicking them out. James finally lifted his tray and tossed his junk in the trash can their table was parked near. The two made their way out of the cafeteria, and Ian mulled over what he’d just been told. What to do about it.

“I’m gonna go find Hana and try to talk to her.” Ian said, finally. “I’m not that much closer to her than you are but...I don’t know, there’s something really fucking screwed up about this whole thing and I want to get down to the bottom of it.”

James shook his head. “It’s your head mate.”  After making the comment, his jaw set and he seemed to think better of it. “Erm. Really though. Whatever’s happened, that isn’t the skittish new girl from the beginning of the year anymore I don’t think. Be careful.” He paused.

“Because if anyone’s gonna fucking murder you Moosey, it’s gonna be me.” His face morphed into a savage grin that was almost reassuring in its familiarity.

“Like hell, James.” Ian replied, smirking yet again before he split off from his clubmate to go find Hana.

-o-

Tracking Hana down to confront her hadn’t been easy feat. She never went to class these days so he couldn’t exactly grab her afterwards. She didn’t eat lunch with Normal Boots anymore. Even Mai said she hardly had any idea how to find her lately. She’d said his best bet would be the dorms at night, but that Hana might be reluctant to let him in.  Also that she might be reluctant to talk to him at all.

That hadn’t deterred him. That’s why he’d asked Mai to text him when both of them were in their room, so that she could invite him in. Ian and Mai had never exactly been close. Or really liked each other that much in general. If there was one thing they had in common though, that was concern for Hana’s wellbeing. He appreciated the help arranging a way of meeting Hana, and he assumed she appreciated him attempting to do something about the shit going on with her.

Ian briefly checked his phone to assure himself Mai had said Hana was here now, as if he’d managed to misread the contents of the text the four or five times he’d read it.

Mai [7:51] shes here. i’d get here quick bc god knows when she might leave again.

Ian knocked on the door. It opened mere seconds after his hand left it, he had a feeling Mai had been ready and waiting for him to get here. She appeared jittery and nervous about his being there, but quickly faked a smile and greeted him a bit too enthusiastically. “Hi Ian! Glad you could make it!”

Mai turned around to look at Hana, Ian thought maybe to see if there was any sort of reaction. He peered over Mai and there was none. She was sitting at the end of her bed chatting aimlessly with Jacques, ignoring anyone else’s presence. Hm.

Mai led him in, and he wasn’t sure what to do after that. The awkwardness hanging in the room was practically palpable. Hana carrying on talking to Jacques without even slightly acknowledging that Mai had invited him into the room. The fact that Mai was pretty plainly acting like she’d invited Ian over just because. (Rather poorly at that. Ian appreciated the attempt but if Hana had been remotely paying attention he doubted she’d buy it.)

“So uh…” Mai began, looking from him to her roommate, then widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Oh! I forgot to grab...something! Wait right here Ian!” She darted out the door, and closed it behind her. Her signal for Ian to go ahead with confronting Hana he presumed.

The shadow of her feet lingering under the crack of the door gave away that this was more about giving him an excuse to talk to Hana than privacy. Considering James’s encounter with Hana though, he had to admit Mai hanging around was possibly for the best.

Ian casually pulled out the chair for what looked like Mai’s desk and casually sat down. He let the silence hang in the air for a few moments like he actually was just waiting for Mai to get back.

“You been practicing up for the tournament?” he asked the first thing that came to mind,not sure what else to talk about. He’d get to it eventually but he couldn’t exactly open with asking her if something was going on to make her act like this. She stopped talking to the robot bird perched on her hand, but didn’t respond to him. Oh boy. “Uh, Hana?”

“Oh the tournament, the tournament, the tournament.” Hana’s lips curled despairingly and her voice took on a mocking inflection as she spoke. “‘Oh Hana how’s practice for the tournament going?’ ‘Have you been playing that game?’ Is that all anyone cares about?”

Ian tilted his head slightly and he narrowed his eyes. She already getting aggravated though, no need to push anything yet. He continued speaking casually. “Well I thought it was a pretty important to you, getting a chance to join Normal Boots and all.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got more important things to focus on than that.” The arm that Jacques was on swept close to Hana’s body, indicating the important thing in question.

“Indeed.” the robot bird confirmed. Ian clenched his jaw. His suspicion for that thing only grew stronger. He still didn’t know what...motive it had but it was looking pretty damn shady to him.

“Are you at least going to try? The tournament’s next weekend.”

Hana shrugged. “Don’t know. I might show up, I might not.” She stroked Jacques’s head.

“Seriously?” Ian shook his head. He couldn’t believe this, mind flashing back to the surprise and hope he’d seen on her face when he said she needed to compete. “You might? You know Normal Boots is counting on you right? You can’t just flake on them like that.”

Hana was more stone faced now, but her narrowed eyes gave away her annoyance at his persistence.. “I’m your competition. Shouldn’t you be happy I might not show up?”

“I’ve told you it’s not about winning. Competition is exactly what I want.”  he crossed his arms. Ian was getting nowhere, he should just cut to the chase. He closed his eyes. “What is up with you lately Hana? You were so excited about this and now you don’t give a shit? Because of that thing?” he gestured to Jacques, who had just hopped over onto Hana’s shoulder.

That was apparently, maybe not the best way to refer to him, Ian realized.

Hana’s head snapped straight in his direction. Her head tilted awkwardly, her eyebrows lowered and her teeth were bared, she looked...wrong. Almost inhuman. She spoke through her teeth. “Jacques. Is not. A thing.”

It was fine. Mai was right there behind the door, he didn’t think she would, but if Hana tried anything, she was right there. Ian wasn’t having any of this. He pressed on. Maybe with her this fired up he could...snap her out of this?  He scooted the chair closer to her. His voice went softer, calmer, trying to let her see that he was actually concerned about her. “He is though Hana, think about it. He’s a robot, a program. He could malfunction. He could get broken. You can’t throw everything away for something you could lose so easily.”

As if approaching a wounded animal, Ian slowly put his hand on Hana’s shoulder. She didn’t move. She just...stared. Her eyes were blank like she was spacing out, processing something. Was it working?

“Who.”

Ian was decidedly puzzled at that response. Not at Hana starting to look angry again, he kind of expected that. “Who? What do you mean?”

In contrast to her expression, her voice was even, almost monotone as she explained herself. “You said he could break. Who wants to break Jacques?”

Ian lifted his hand off of Hana and held both arms in front of him in a gesture of defense. He hated to admit it, but she was kind of scaring him now. “Nobody, Hana. I was just saying he could so you shouldn’t-”

Hana’s face was becoming a burning red from her delusional rage and a finger pointed so close to Ian’s face, he flinched like she was going for his eyes. “You want to don’t you? You want to take him away from me!”

“I’m not going to break him, but yeah I do want him away from you because he’s making you go completely insane. This isn’t you Hana, that fucking robot is doing something to you.”

“LIAR.” Her eyebrows remained lowered in but her face twisted into a maniacal grin. She lunged at him and before Ian could properly process that Hana, Hana was going for his throat, she managed to claw it with her nails and catch the collar of his shirt.

It didn’t last, despite being lanky he was still stronger than Hana and he managed to push the chair back and away from her , though it did smack right into Mai’s desk. Hana in turn, was pulled too and her and Jacques, still perched on her shoulder, flew forward onto the ground.  

His hand darted to the spot of his neck Hana had gotten with her nails as she started picking herself up. Ian raised it in front of him, and though there wasn’t much, she’d drawn blood.

He heard the door open, presumably Mai reacted after hearing Hana yelling and the thunk of the chair against the desk. Ian sprung to his feet.

He needed to get out of here. He’d tried but Hana didn’t seem able to be reasoned with. He hated to give up on her but this wasn’t worth it, not for someone he’d only known a few months. Hana was just too far gone.

Shaking his head, Ian darted past Mai, escaping the room.