#he has broken two laptop screens just by dropping his bag too hard

[wanghedi]

I just lent my brother my beautiful ti 84 graphing calculator for the next like 6 years probably and i already regret it. I used it for like 8 years and its literally in pristine condition it is PERFECT like new i could sell it back to fucking texas instruments if i wanted to.... and he destroys everything he touches (literal) i am not getting that thing back in one piece

[angelguk]

omg so i sent in an ask re angst jock jk n oc ! but then i also realized its highly possible these 2 break up at one point while in uni mostly bc of the "are we dating bc its convenient" kinda dilemma and then it just pushes them apart bc they think theyre losing theirselves while being in such a close relationship,,,cue save ur tears by theweeknd BUT i just know when they grow up a lil bit more, theyll end up together <3

here we go! (the beginning of the end....may be...)

didn’t include save your tears as the soundtrack but may haps for the follow-up :3

pairing: jock!jk and oc

warnings: angst, yes the break-up scene, jaykay being an ass (a very huge one motivated by his own insecurities and selfishness – translation: he’d rather break her heart and carry that weight than be the heartbroken one), chayoung is no longer Seed of Doubt but something else (still up for debate but she’s fairly nice here), not edited but hey atp that’s part of my branding (also i would like everyone to consider that oc is not the greatest gf ever like guys don’t hate jk alone!!)

soundtrack: bags, clairo + stay, gracie abrams + say you know, alina baraz

(titled — honeymoon fades)

Jeongguk’s contact name hasn’t lit up the screen of your phone for six days now and you haven’t seen his face for just as long. It’s weird to go from constant incessant  communication to complete and utter radio silence. Not a single meme deposited in your Instagram inbox, no random notification from his Twitter. Just silence, quiet brewing silence. 

It breaks two days later when Chayoung finds you coddled under your duvet, mouth stuffed with the saccharine sweetness of mint chocolate. (Jeongguk kept a stash of it at your place but who was around to eat it anymore apart from you?). 

“And why do you look like you live in a dumpster?” She’d hummed, ripping open the curtains you’d involuntarily welded shut. 

“Because that’s how I feel inside,” you’d retorted, pushing aside your laptop. The screen is stuck with an image of an idiotic character named Nabi kissing the spawn of Satan. You hope for her sake it works out. Chayoung had huffed at your response, fondly whacking your head with a stray pillow. 

“Well get over that feeling cause we’re going out tonight.” A declaration, the fierceness in her feline eyes a warning that you’re not allowed to even think of saying no. That doesn’t mean you hadn’t tried – sorrowful eyes and pouted lips as you begged her to spare you. But Chayoung is a force of nature, one that could easily wreak havoc on your delicateness. And she does though, with a string of comments that propels you out of the miserable burrow you’d dug up. 

“You’re killing everyone, you know?” She’d supplied, yanking open your closet. “You’re sulking, Jeongguk is shutting down. He’s said like five words since this whole...thing...you have going on.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at that, toying with the corner of the large grey shirt donned on your body. Jeongguk’s shirt. One of his favourites actually. You’d thought about stealing it after spying it on his obsessively neat laundry pile, but after seeing your wandering eyes he’d given it to you instead. 

“He always does that,” you’d said after Chayoung had whipped her head in your direction, curved eyebrows perplexed. “I mean, shut down. It’s his emotional response to things that bother him. Complete detachment so it hurts less.”

She had just stared at you, a long meaningful look at left your skin prickled. 

“Huh.”

“What do you mean ‘huh’?”

A measured step forward, her body weight sinking into the edge of your mattress a moment later. “I mean, you know him so well.”

“Of course I do he’s my best-friend,” you’d said, indignation coating your words

“No–No you're not getting me. You know him. You know he wouldn’t make the move to reconcile–”

“But he should!”

“You told him to go away! He’s trying to listen to you even though he’s hurting!”

And maybe that was it, that simple implication that you were causing him pain that had you pausing, reviewing the things you’d said to him – the things you’d felt. 

“But,” a timid rebuttal, “I just–I just need him to show me that he cares.”

“He does,” Chayoung had returned. “So much. And he misses you. He’s probably just afraid that you don’t feel the same.”

“But I do! He knows this.”

“Does he?” A question in her eyes, one that you’re afraid you know the honest answer to. 

You say things and never mean them, he had said, eyes hard.

That had hurt you but perhaps he was right, there are things you hadn’t told him, feelings you hadn’t truly expressed. And Jeongguk had always been good to you, so understanding and caring, trying to fill the places were you lacked. Wasn’t he the one who planned the majority of your dates? Remembered all the important milestones of your relationship while you contributed the bare minimum. You hadn’t even told Chayoung about the surprise he had planned for your one-year anniversary, the shame of your own choice hanging heavy over your head. 

So that’s why you’re here, staring at the back of his head forlornly as the music drifts around you, flashing florescent lights bathing him a hazy glory. He hasn’t seen you yet (something you’re thankful for because oddly enough you feel sick to your stomach). It feels like you’re skating on thin ice, waiting for the impending crack to sound through your heart, ice water swallowing you whole immediately. Chayoung is the one who pushes you forward, gingerly plucking the idle drink from your hand, Jimin aiding her efforts with a soft smile your way. 

It’s time for you to try the way Jeongguk has, put aside that bumbling ego that oversees your actions and adopt the humility he’s always granted you.

“Go,” she murmurs. “He misses you.”

And God you hope he does because you’ve missed him too. 

Except the moment his honey eyes land on you you know he hasn’t.

“Jeongguk,” you mumble. Yoonoh is frozen beside him, concerned gaze flicking between your faces. Your own eyes are stuck on him, the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the subtle hint of the dimple in his cheeks. 

You’ve missed him, and it slips from your heart and brims in your eyes, vision blurry as your blink those stray tears back inside. 

“Hi,” you add, when his silence doesn’t break.

“I should probably go,” Yoonoh lets out, awkward words bumping into the wall of tension standing firm between you to. He settles a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder, sending him a look that feels loaded. “See you guys later, right?”

You nod, finally noticing the lump clogging your throat. “Yeah, sure.” Jeongguk just hums, the edge of his cup caught between his lips. Yoonoh flees within seconds, leaving you to wade through this alone. 

“I–I know you’re not happy with me right now, but please, can we just talk?” He blinks at you, it feels like a premonition. “Please?”

“Okay.” The simple word fills you, like a hollow you weren’t aware of finally found the cure needed. 

“Okay,” a small smile on your lips. Jeongguk’s face is still unreadable. He guides you up and away from the deafening sound of the song bleeding from the speakers, into an empty room, the door closing behind him muting the music and giving way to the own pounding in your head. Nobody says anything for a second, both of you navigating this uncharted territory of animosity. Until Jeongguk sighs, melting into the bed at the centre of the room. You follow suit, allocating enough space between the two of you. You’ve ever had to do that before.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Jeongguk finally cuts through it, eyes unforgiving when he glances at you.

“I did! I do–Just Jeongguk,” you can’t help it drifting out. “I miss you.”

Nothing, not even a flicker in his eyes. He eyes shift to the floor instead. “Okay. I that what you wanted to say?”

“No–No not just that! I’ve missed you Jeongguk and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that i went off on you like that and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best towards you and I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like I didn’t care about you–or made you feel like the things I said or did had no meaning behind them. Because they do–they do because I love you. I love you so so much and I’m sorry if I made it seem like otherwise.” You automatically extend out for him, hoping to grasp on his thing floating to fast away from you. Jeongguk shifts and you hand tumbles down to the empty space between you instead, halted by his hesitance. 

His head drops into his palms a second later, a broken exhale leaving his lips. The motion cause the silver bracelet on his wrist to slip down the length of his arm. It jolts something in you. Jeongguk had given you a matching one but you’d ripped it off after the last argument and hadn’t considered putting it back on. But Jeongguk was still wearing his. 

“Do you really?”

“What?” He’s staring at you know, doe eyes cloudy.

“Do you really love me?” There, that stupid evil vile question that you thought you had the answer to but the words vanish in your head the longer he looks at you.

“I do–what? What are you implying? Of course, I do.”

“Of course, you do,” Jeongguk echoes. His eyes turn to the window located over his shoulder. You can see his head working through something, and you’re suddenly terrified fingertips itching to wander through his curls and coax those thoughts from his head. 

“Jeongguk? What the hell are you talking about? Talk to me, please.”

He sighs again, at it feels like your heart splinters. A sudden shake of his head and Jeongguk twists back to face you, a silent tear falling down his cheek.

“You don’t love me.”

“Wh–What are you talking about? I do! And how can you decide my feelings for me?”

“No. You don’t love me the way you think you do–the way you should.” It feels like he’s saying it to more than you, like he’s saying it to himself. “Maybe this the wrong choice to make. You know. Maybe we shouldn’t have done this.”

You shatter just like that, shards on the floor as you stare him, this person that you thought you knew. And maybe the feeling is mutual because Jeongguk is staring at you in a similar way, searching for the courage to say the words you know lie in his heart. Like a loaded cannon, waiting for the match to strike and leave you lying in pieces. 

“I think we should break–"

“No,” you cut him off with an adamance that you didn’t know existed until right then. “No, you’re not gonna say that and we are not doing this.”

His eyes narrow then, jaw set. “This is not about ‘us’, I’m doing what’s right for me.”

“How is that right? Huh, Jeongguk? Don’t you care about this? Don’t you care about me?”

He looks away then, ignoring your questions, his throat stuck. 

“Jeongguk...” You reach out again, and he allows it, shoulders sinking with the weight of your hand on them. “Don’t you care about me?”

Another heavy exhale, his eyes blinking hard. “I do. And that’s why this won’t work, not the way it should at least. I really think we should end this, or at least reconsider the reasons why we’re together. You say you love me–you say you always have but really–really think about it. About me and us and what we are. I’m sorry, I really am but I just can’t do this anymore.”

He rises then, your outstretched hand tumbling down to the empty space he’d left behind. You can’t move it, can’t breathe, your heart hurtling out of your chest and onto the ground where it lies, fragmented beyond repair and bleeding bare. You glance up through tears, watch him open his mouth and then it and look away. 

“Do you mean it?” You finally ask, and his eyes snap to you. He knows what you’re saying. There’s a pause that stretches out for eternity, coloured by the sound of the ringing in your head.

“Maybe.” It cuts right through you, lodging itself deep with intent. And then you just have to nod, swallow the scream clawing at your throat. He murmurs one more apology before his feet carry him away, and you watch, forlorn as you burn his frame into your memory, as your whole world walks out the door.

[tsukishumai]

Prank Wars w/ their S/O - Tsukki, Kuroo, Akaashi, Bokuto

My Gym 3 babies! 

Couldn’t get this idea out of my head lmao, so I cranked it out real quick.

Hope you like!

Aged-up characters :)

TSUKISHIMA –

You looked at the clock on the wall of your shared apartment.

It read ’11:56 PM’

Tsukki’s birthday was in four minutes, and the two of you were spending it huddled around the kitchen table, papers scattered all over while you both attempted to finish your midterm papers.

Not exactly the most glamorous way to spend it, but such is life for college students.

Still, that didn’t mean you didn’t have something up your sleeve.

Tsukishima was sitting across from you, eyes trained to the screen of his laptop, headphones on with the volume undoubtedly maxed it.

“Kei,” you called out, and just as you expected, he couldn’t hear a word you said.

You rummage through your bag, and found the pair of scissors you stowed away earlier for this exact moment.

“Kei,” you said again, a little louder this time. Still, you were met with nothing.

‘Perfect.’

“Kei!” you yelled out, and with a quick snip, you had cut the wire that was connecting his headphones to his laptop.

You watched as Tsukishima’s eyes widened slightly, eyes darting from the cut wire to you, then back to the cut wire, then back to you.

“What the actual fuck?” he said in disbelief.

“I’ve been calling your name for ten minutes now, and you were ignoring me!”

“So you cut my headphones” he sputtered out, still trying to process the situation.

“You couldn’t hear me!”

“Wha – I – Are you an actual moron?!” His eyes narrowed at you, taking the now broken head phones off his head and throwing them off the table, “There were a hundred different ways to get my attention, and you had to pick the most idiotic way. Jesus fucking Christ, how the hell am I supposed to –“

You cut him off by placing a small box on the table, wrapped in a light green wrapping paper patterned with a cartoon dinosaur wearing a party hat.

He stared at the box.

“’How the hell am I supposed to drown out your annoying voice’? That’s what you were gonna say, right?”

He glared at you.

You pointed to the box.

“What the hell is it that?” he asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

“It’s a present,” you rolled your eyes, “or are you too stupid to – “

He snatched the box from the table at your words. You smirked with satisfaction as you watched him quickly ripped off the paper, his hands stilling once he realizes what was underneath.

It was a set of Bluetooth headphones – ones that he has been eyeing for months but hadn’t been able to save up enough money to get.

He looked up at you, eyes softening immediately at the proud smile you had on your face.

“Happy birthday, Kei!” you giggled.

He stood up from his chair to make his way around the table and gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead.

What’s a present without a little psychological torture?

KUROO

Kuroo was planning to be nice to you today.

Really, he was.

He even took a quick pit stop at the mall so he could get you a drink from your favorite boba spot.

But when he walked passed the kiosk selling cheap hair extensions, an idea so great popped into his head, he couldn’t ignore it.

He got to your apartment, and the happy smile on your face almost made him hesitate to go on with his plans.

But then you said, “What’s up with your hair today, Tetsu? Couldn’t be bothered to look in the mirror for longer than two seconds?”

His eyebrow twitched.

He waited for the perfect opportunity, and it came when you went into the bathroom to finish doing your make up.

He grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer in your kitchen, and then cut off a thick lock of hair from the extension he had bought that matched your color.

He tiptoed his way into the bathroom, making sure not to make much noise so that you didn’t notice him.

Making a big show of it, he snipped the scissors loudly behind your head, then held up the fake lock of hair for you to see in the mirror.

He couldn’t stop the shit eating grin from spreading on his face as he watched your face slowly register what you just heard, and what you were seeing in the mirror.

Your face contorted with anger and disbelief, quickly snapping your head around to stare at the lock Kuroo was holding.

“WHAT,” you shrieked, “THE. FUCK!”

Kuroo was bent over laughing at this point.

“KUROO TETSURO, I – YOU –“ You sputtered, but then you turned back to your sink, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through the contents.

Kuroo wondered for only a minute what you were looking for before you produced your own pair of scissors.

Kuroo’s eyes widened, “Y/N…”

“COME HERE YOU ASSHOLE,” You tried to grab at his hair, but he was too quick, and grabbed your wrist.

“Hey, calm down,” he shrieked, “You’re gonna hurt somebody!”

“YEAH, THAT WAS THE PLAN.”

“It was a prank!” he said quickly, and you stopped thrashing around, and Kuroo let out a sigh of relief.

He ran out of the bathroom to grab the plastic bag of fake hair, lifting it up for you to see when you trailed after him.

“See,” he said, “I got it at the mall earlier. Now… Please… Put the scissors down?”

Akaashi –

You and Akaashi were having a peaceful Sunday

After spending the morning lazing around on the living room couch, the two of you decided to go for a run around the neighborhood.

Bad idea.

You absolutely hate running.

Akaashi managed to convince you with the promise of making you chocolate chip pancakes when you finished, but not even that was giving you the motivation to pick your feet up from the ground.

 “Alright, that’s it,” Akaashi called from twenty feet ahead of you, his natural athleticism making you more irritated by the second, “Almost there, you can do it!”

You know he was trying to be motivating, but it just made you want to chuck your shoe at his pretty head.

Your body was aching and exhausted by the time you got back to your door.

Akaashi gave you a quick peck on the cheek, told you to go take a shower while he prepared breakfast.

You agreed, but made your way into the kitchen first to grab an apple sauce packet from the cupboard cause a bitch hates cramping.

When you noticed the box of dried pasta sitting in the corner, an idea flashed into your head.

Quietly, you opened the box and grabbed a few dried pieces, shoving them into your mouth before you turned to Akaashi.

“Hey, Keiji? My back is kind of aching, do you think you could help me crack it?”

He tiled his head at you, setting down the bowl of pancake batter he was mixing.

“How do I do that,” he whipped his hands on a towel before positioning himself behind you.

You crossed your arms. “Just wrap your arms around me, then pick me up and squeeze really tightly.”

Akaashi nodded, wrapping his arms around you. “Ready?”

You nodded, and as soon as you felt Akaashi lift you from the ground, you bit down on the dried pasta in your mouth, creating a loud cracking sound.

Akaashi let go of you in shock, dropping you onto the floor, but you were trying so hard not to laugh, you didn’t even mind.

“Holy hell, was that your back?! Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?!””

Akaashi knelt down from where he stood, trying to hold you up while you clutched your stomach.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, and you burst out laughing.

Akaashi narrowed his eyes as you grabbed a napkin from the counter and spat out the dried pasta from your mouth, laughing even harder when Akaashi looked at you in disgust.

 Realization dawned on his face, and he dropped you on the floor once again, stood up, and started heading towards the bathroom, leaving you to pick yourself up.

“Aw come on, Keiji~”

“I’m taking a shower. Make the pancakes yourself.”

“No! Keiji!!”

Bokuto –

You were trying to enjoy the newest episode of your favorite show when it was interrupted by loud screaming.

Screams that you could only recognize as Bokuto’s

You rush out from your room, only to find your boyfriend screaming his head off from the kitchen counter

“Kou?! What the – “

Your eyes barely took in the sight before you.

Bokuto with a knife in his right hand while his left is on the cutting board and all you saw was red – so much red.

“OH MY GOD, KOTARO, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK”

“Y/N, OH MY GOD, GET SOME PAPER TOWELS!”

You scramble around, and in a panic, you grabbed the dish rag that was on the sink, and threw it at him.

“NO, THAT’S A RAG, THAT’S DIRTY!”

“OH MY GOD, WHERE ARE THE DAMN PAPER TOWELS,” you scream out, scrambling around the kitchen that you’ve lived in for the past year, “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?!”

“I WAS TRYING TO COOK US SOME DINNER,” Bokuto cried out, and you finally found the damn paper towels under the sink.

You grab the entire roll, ripping off a few sheets and pressing them onto Bokuto’s fingers.

Except, when you wiped the paper towel away, there was no blood. It was… tomato sauce?

And Bokuto’s fingers were neatly intact.

When you finally noticed Bokuto’s phone recording you, you turn to glare at him.

The bastard had the audacity to burst out laughing.

“That’s not funny, Kou!” you shrieked, throwing down the paper towels and storming out of the kitchen.

“Aw, come on, Y/N,” he said in between laughter, “I’m surprised you even fell for that.”

“Well, what the hell was I supposed to think when I come running down, and you’re screaming your head off!”

You crossed your arms and pouted. Bokuto snickered, washing his hands before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You gotta admit,” he smiled, nuzzling his face into your neck, “That was a good one.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around him. “Yeah… it was.”

[notnctu]

cupid’s arrow - h.rj | 7 days

━ sweet greetings from the 7 days fluff series 

genre ❥ slight angst, fluff !!  details ❥ college!au, friends to lovers!au, genderneutral!reader ━ where renjun makes a bet to get you to fall in love with him.  warnings ❥ explicit language, light banter word count ❥ 7.1k  synopsis ❥ The silly boy has no idea what he’s gotten himself into when he makes a bet with his arrogant friend to get you to fall in love with him. Renjun never intends to confess, mainly because his past unrequited loves have demolished his confidence. So a low stakes gamble causes him a great deal of stress and pride, wishing that it was as easy as striking you with Cupid’s Arrow. While he wants your feelings to develop organically, he actually doesn’t know what he’d do if you did end up liking him back. Because to him, you have always been someone unattainable and out of his reach  taglist ❥ @yourmagnanimousholiness​ ; @lovelycharm05​ ; @watermelonxes​ ; @jaehyunsjasmine​ ; @mjlkau​​ <3

a/n ❥ this is author doie ❀!! uhh this came out a little more angsty than i had planned it to be.. anyways its been a long time coming and we’re still working on the requests hehehe uhh keep an eye out for some blog updates bc we are starting school soon :) thanks for sticking with us so far! lots of love for everyone<3

Huang Renjun catches a glimpse of your enchanting figure across the lecture hall and how you effortlessly slide into your usual seat near the front. The tap against the tiny turnout table with your pen, ruffling your hair to only have it fall back in place beautifully, and aura alone suffocates him.

In a three hundred person lecture, all he sees is you. The only person in the room who has his undivided attention and while it might be entirely infatuation by your attractiveness, the mutual friends you two share describe you having a heart of gold.

A heart that is impenetrable. Strong, sturdy, shining metal that no one has been able to get through, but Renjun thinks that it’s because you can tell someone is undeserving. Keen and observant eyes, it’s a good thing that his stares don’t linger for long.

As he walks down the descending steps to sit in the row behind you, he remembers a very drunk night over the past weekend and an idiotic bet that has him punching himself. He wishes that he never agreed, but the liquid pride in him could not bite his tongue.

“(Y/N)?” His friend scorns and Renjun slaps his forehead at the slip of your name. Truthfully, the alcohol is messing with his head and he’s saying things that are no longer in his control. But how could he have possibly let the one secret he holds to himself out into the small crowd.

He mumbles profanities underneath his breath, trying to limit light from hurting his blurry vision, and rubbing his throbbing temples. “Yes, (Y/N).” There is no confidence in his voice at the whisper of your name.

“Dude, (Y/N) is way out of your league.” The headache just doesn’t have an end. He knows this; there is no way you’d ever bat an eyelash at him first. Renjun just likes things that are impossible to him, a poor habit of his.

“I bet I could get (Y/N) to get with me first before you ever can.” Then, Renjun’s eyes shoot open wide and the view of the arrogance laughing in the dimness slowly boils his blood.

Renjun may seem like the weaker link to pick on, but he is not one to give up a fight. While his friend has an advantage, the last thing Renjun would want is for you to fall for a horrendous two faced personality.

He’ll charm your pants off and when he gets what he wants: the victory and your vulnerability, he’ll hurt you. Would you be able to see past his fake genuineness or actually fall for the person he plays so well? Renjun can’t let anyone hurt you if he can prevent it.

“I bet that I can get (Y/N) to fall in love with me.” Renjun stumbles to stand up proudly, making himself bolder and more intimidating. Nevertheless, the drowsiness intoxicates him and he can barely keep his line of vision focused.

He sees the disgusting smirk on his friend’s face and a hand extends out for Renjun to shake. “Okay. Let’s bet on it. If you can’t get (Y/N) to fall in love with you, they’ll be mine and you can’t speak to them ever again.”

“Nice use of claiming someone who barely knows you exist.” The alcohol didn’t take away Renjun’s sharp sarcasm and the constant rolling of his eyes.

Renjun truly has no confidence at the game he decided to engage in, his only motive is to protect you from a bad guy. He wouldn’t even know how to handle the potential chance that you could like him back, did you have the ability to do so?

He never had the intention to confess to you, his heart has been broken all too much already by unrequited loves from his past. And if he had to be honest with himself, his admiration for you has become so strong that even he’s afraid to be someone to taint it.

What are the odds that the entire row behind you is already filled? Renjun’s throat closes when he sees the empty seat right next to you and the professor starting up his presentation. Other students push past him to hurry into empty seats before lecture begins, and his own feet pick him up toward you.

Like a magnetic pull, you attract him with an inexplicable force so naturally. Clearing his throat, he swallows the anxiousness that blocks him from speaking. 

“Is this seat taken?”

This is it. This is the first of many looks you two will share, and Renjun’s heart pounds at his chest to wait for your eyes to meet his own for more than a second.

As if the room falls silent and everything is in slow motion, Renjun captures the very image when you blink up at him with beautiful dazzling gentleness and the utter sugar of your lips curling upwards. And he’s stunned, hoping it doesn’t show on his face.

“No.” It’s a simple reply and nothing worth jumping out of joy about, but he tries so hard to hold back the growing smile of your acknowledgement. You are being polite, but something inside of him feels giddy and like static running through his veins.

“Thanks.” Dropping his bag, he enters the seat carefully and sits with his hands folded together on the tiny table.

You examine the attentive boy, as his focus is trained on the lecture slides and the unprepared professor messing with his mic. Chuckling, “you don’t take notes?”

Renjun is surprised at your sudden interaction, completely blindsided by your friendliness. He wasn’t sure how well that would have worked, but your curiosity speaks for you. “I actually forgot my laptop today.” The heavy device sits in his bag at his feet, but he doesn’t dare take it out after the lie.

The soft ‘oh’ that falls from your mouth is too cute and Renjun clears his throat to bring him back from his daydreams of you. Looking apologetic, he shrugs and pretends to gear his attention back to the professor, who finally starts the long awaited class.

“I can send you my notes for the day, if you’d like.” The kindness in your voice does not go unnoticed, in fact, it causes Renjun to hold onto it for a little longer to fuel his undying crush for you.

“I’d love that—” Perhaps he shouldn’t have used the word love for the strictly friendly gesture. “—you’re a lifesaver. Uh, how should I refer to you as?” Playing dumb is his only way to get to you, for now.

“(Y/N). And you?” You hand your phone toward him with social media popped up to input his user handle.

Renjun introduces himself as his sweaty fingers type, and he wonders if he should have polished up any photos that may have you steering away from him. However when he returns your device, the smile that lights up your face allows him to breathe easily.

“I knew you sounded familiar. You’re friends with Jaemin, right?” Your whisper grows soft as you multitask to make conversation and jot down a few important bullet points from the slides. Renjun tries hard to dissect the information as well, but the boring tone of his professor is nothing compared to his crush finally having conversation with him.

“We’re housemates along with two other people.” His body is able to relax now that he’s broken the wall of introductions. You carry yourself to be more intimidating than you actually are.

When he peeks back over at your concentrated expression, your lip is hidden by your top row of teeth and your quick eyes dart between the monitor and your page. How are you so good at literally everything?

“A small world.” He picks up your every word, “well Renjun, since this class has basically ruined my life, would it be too much to ask if you’re down to study with me?” And despite the fluorescent lights being absolutely dull, they still dust your eyes with an enticing glitter.

He must have been staring for too long because you start your sentence of doubt, but Renjun stammers over his response. The professor isn’t quite happy with the small overlap of chatter and shoots a glare at the two of you.

That’s definitely not a good way to start, but it’s memorable. Renjun motions for your pen, and scribbles in his own font the answer to your offer:

I’d love that :)

Then, his heart soars back into the clouds once again at the grin that settles and your written response:  

Me too <3

How does one get someone to fall for them? If Renjun knew, he wouldn’t still be single and infatuated with someone too good for him. He wishes that it’s as simple as the myths make it out to be, where all Cupid had to do was draw his bow and launch a loving arrow that pierces through the heart — an instant love.

But playing Cupid himself is harder than anticipated. He has no handy tools to assist him with his goals. He just has himself, lacks luster and is invisible. Can he be more painfully boring?

And he looks at you with literal hearts in his eyes. An excitement that awaits him, the true meaning of a head turner. That is you. And all he can offer is his mere presence.

“So how did you and Jaemin meet?” Looking up from your blinding laptop screen, Renjun feels the light tap underneath the table from your foot. He chuckles at the subtly adorable affection, and your own way of showing it.

This has to be the third round of study sessions you two shared, and bit by bit, he falls more and more for you despite it needing to be the other way around. The captivating get-to-know you conversation of favorites all down to your aspirations and goals.

The intelligence of you, your wisdom, your perspective. While he did not have this insight before, knowing it now only makes you more alluring. He can’t believe you’re even sitting with him in his shared living room, just the two of you.

“We met at orientation. He’s persistent.” Renjun laughs lightly and you smile in return, nodding along with his statement.

“Wish I met you guys at orientation. I was never the one to reach out to people first until college forced me out of my shell.” He hopes his ears didn’t deceive him, but Renjun had to do a double take: you said you guys, which includes him, right? You wish you had met him earlier?

But the latter shocks him a bit. If he recalls your first meeting, you were the one curious enough to continue speaking to him. “I would have never guessed.”

“Really?” There is a notable light in your eyes as you tilt your head. “I don’t seem shy?”

“Not at all…” He has to stop himself from going on an incredible tangent about how greatly outspoken you are, it gives away too much on how observant he’s been.  

“I’m good at hiding it then.” You examine the soft shade of pink on the tips of his ears and his averting shy gazes. “What are you good at hiding?”

Your question leaves him speechless and gripping at any ends of answers. There are a number of ways he can go about it, but the truth is not one of them.

What is he good at hiding? His unconditional affection for you. He’s good at concealing every heavy heart beat at your smallest actions. He’s good at keeping a regretful secret bet.

But as those options pop into his head, he doesn’t want to say any of them. So, he opts for a white lie instead and hopes that the hesitation doesn’t sell him out for being a nervous wreck.

“I’m good at hiding what I fear.” You blink at him, clearly intrigued to want to know more.

“You do seem pretty fearless, Huang Renjun.” There is a brief exchange of eye contact and Renjun swears that his pounding heart can be heard in the silence. A smirk on your lips as you return to your work, he’s warm inside from the usage of his full name. And you don’t even realize the effect you have over him.

“So, you and (Y/N) are close. How did that start?” Jaemin jumps onto Renjun’s neatly made bed. The covers are now ruffled and tossed from the impact.

Jaemin isn’t home very often, but in the rare times he has been, it’s always during the study sessions with you. The first time you came over, Jaemin tried not to talk up a storm from seeing a familiar face. He respects Renjun’s relationships, so he tried his best to keep from prying at the boy.

“You finally want to know?” Renjun scoffs lightheartedly, punching his housemate lightly on the shoulder as he swivels around in his chair. With an excited wide smile, Jaemin tugs at his friend’s arm as an endearing sign of persistence. “Okay, okay. We have the same class.”

“(Y/N) really approached you in a three hundred student lecture?” A tone of disbelief settles in Jaemin’s rhetorical question. He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for Renjun to tell some truth.

“Not exactly. I sat next to them and a conversation just happened.” Renjun shrugs as if it’s nothing big, as if it hadn’t been for your curiosity that started this blossoming relationship.

“Spare me the details.” Jaemin sits up to hold Renjun by his shoulders. The pressure feels oddly crushing, like a whole weight dropping on him. Jaemin stares him dead in the eyes. “What are your motives, Huang Renjun?”

His mouth hangs slightly open from the question. “I can’t be friends with (Y/N)?” Almost defensively, Renjun furrows his eyebrows at his friend, but he can tell Jaemin has caught onto his lie.

“I heard that you made a bet with a certain shithead.” Jaemin rolls his eyes at remembering their horrible mutual, a crime to even consider him as a friend. He drops his heavy hands from Renjun’s shoulders and falls back onto the mattress.  

The alarming expression of grave danger, Renjun is screwed. He gulps the gathered saliva in the back of his mouth, searching for a plausible explanation. “I was drunk.” He slaps his forehead at the stupid reasoning as Jaemin shoots upright to begin scolding him.

“Let me explain,” Renjun covers his mouth to halt Jaemin’s excessive nagging. “I like (Y/N), that’s how the bet even came alive. I slipped up and then he was saying all this stuff about (Y/N) being out of my league.”

“Which is true.” Jaemin adds, quite muffled but doesn’t slip past Renjun.

Renjun glares and thanks him sarcastically. “I made the bet to protect (Y/N) from him. He was provoking me by saying that he can get (Y/N) first and since I was heavily intoxicated, I didn’t think before I spoke.”

Jaemin holds Renjun warmly, seeing that his friend needed a hug from the saddened memory. It’s all too obvious how regretful Renjun feels. “So I’m trying my best at carrying the bet because there’s too much at stake.”

A chill runs down his spine remembering the consequences. He just can’t fail. Jaemin pulls away and lightly pats Renjun’s hair. “Cupid has made you into a fool for your crush.”

“He’s made me into a bigger one for thinking I could get my crush to like me back.” Renjun sighs in defeat and groans loudly. Why does this frustrate him so much? Perhaps it’s the lack of ability to actually get someone to like him back.

Renjun has been single for his entire life, not by choice. He’s done the movie cliches of a confession: a bouquet of roses, a poster, a night under the stars. And not one has ever accepted his feelings. He doesn’t blame any of them since he still struggles with finding things to love about himself. What is there to love about him? He can’t seem to find any redeeming qualities worth mentioning.

But you. You, alone, is simply worth an honorable mention. And now that it’s been well over a month of your friendship, he can confirm that you’re everything he’s ever wanted and more.

“Why don’t you start by being (Y/N)’s friend first? Love doesn’t just happen in an instant, no offense to Cupid or anything. I mean.. isn’t it all just a myth anyways?” Jaemin picks Renjun’s falling chin and he can see the glossy eyes of sadness. They swim with frustration and guilt.

Like an epiphany, Jaemin gave Renjun a starting place. For weeks, Renjun racked his brain for an easy solution out of it all. In reality, he didn’t need any wicked form of magic for foul play. He just wants to be by your side for as long as you allow. And a part of him is scared for you to like him back.

You’ve always been too out of his reach. Standing on a pedestal, you’re something unattainable. It’s lucky that you even bat an eyelash at him. He’s admired you all too much, Renjun won’t actually know what to do if you ever did like him back.

This all stems from his inner insecurities, like a recurring thought: what is there to like about him? Or is he even good enough for you?

If someone had warned him that love could become this confusing, he would’ve sacrificed his heart for something less complicated. To feel. To love. Renjun wishes he can remove the love bow that pierced through his chest.

On a random Friday night, Renjun’s phone rings with an unexpected caller ID. He pauses the song he’s been listening to for the past hour to pick up.

“Renjun! I’m sad and drunk right now.” Your voice is incredibly slurred and he can barely hear you with the loud background noise. “Can you come pick me up?”

“Are you over on Third Ave. again?” He despises that place. A house on the corner of Third Avenue right off the interstate from campus that throws weekly parties. These parties are overcrowded with creeps and cheap booze. Unfortunately, you’re favorite place to run away to.

This isn’t his first time coming to get you. Over the past few months of your established friendship, you’ve sent him numerous amounts of drunk texts calling for him. This is the first time you actually called, preluding to a really rough night you’ve been having.

You sigh into the receiver, “you remembered.” like you’re on the verge of tears, he can hear the quiver in your tiny voice.

“I have your location, idiot.” Renjun smiles at your silly drunk reactions, finding you more enduring from the innocence. “I’ll be there in a blink.”

“Okay, I’ll close my eyes so I can open them to you.” You giggle before hanging up and Renjun can’t keep the widest grin off of his face. He’s rushing out his door, not wanting to wait another second to see you.

One thing Renjun realized after finally growing close enough to you is that through all his infatuation, you’re still a human. While he thinks of you in a sparkling cascading glitter waterfall, you’re made of the same softness that Renjun has. You’re not perfect and he needed to stop idolizing you as if you’re some shiny trophy.

No, he’s learned that he needed to love you for who you truly are. And the moment he broke down your layers, the glass tears that fell from your cheeks were real. The pain through your confident façade, Renjun needed to love you at your lowest.

He saw you for you, not the attractive person from his lecture he drooled months over. You are the exact reality that movies are afraid to portray. You’re courageous, chic, charming. But you’re also shy, soft spoken, and silly. You’re like waking up during dawn and marveling in the silence of a sleeping society. You’re also like smiles on a sunny day and living in the moment.

Renjun is lovestruck, wildly in love with all that you are. The only thing that brings down his spirits is the lingering bet he made several months ago and he hates how it’s always gnawing at him. It’s like an echo, bouncing off the walls of his mind. He can’t shake it off. Most of the time, he tries to focus the moment in front of him, but it has him tossing and turning in the middle of the night.

Without much surprise, you stand in front of the overflowing party house with eyes cutely squeezed shut. A friend by your side to wait with you. “Open your eyes.” Renjun yells as windows roll down and he double parks the car.

Your eyes gleam in the darkness and bidding your friend a quick goodbye, you jump into the familiar vehicle and embrace your good friend with a longing hug. Renjun chuckles at your adorable actions, patting your shoulder lightly. Despite the cheerful welcome, the mood immediately shifts when he hears your tiny sniffs and feels the tears on his shirt.

“C’mon, your favorite ice cream flavor is waiting for you at my place.” As he whispers positive affirmations, you can only cry harder into his chest. “You’re not feeling too good tonight, are you?”

It’s way too obvious of a question to ask, he knows. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say and comforting is not his strongest skill without it turning it into a life lesson. He knows what you need, just someone to acknowledge how you’re feeling and to listen.

“I’m feeling the worst tonight. I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe later?” You pull away from his arms, even if he isn’t ready to let you go. He helps buckle your seatbelt and wipe any remaining wetness on your cheeks.

Your hand briefly touches Renjun’s which causes the boy to freeze at the sudden action. Your hazy smile is unclear, but you lean into him before he can process all the randomness. A kiss on his cheek, the most delicate feeling of lips on skin.

Renjun explodes inside, like hazardous fireworks on a cloudy night. He wants to enjoy it, but his circumstances make it difficult for him to. “Thanks for coming to get me.” Your body slumps back onto the seat, a pout on your lower lip. Renjun shifts awkwardly in his seat, buckling his seatbelt to begin the ride home. He can’t find the words to say.

You’re being too casual about what had just happened, as if you’re ignoring it all. Or you simply have no control over anything that you’re doing. “Let me tell you a secret, Injunie.” The sugarcoated nickname. You’re definitely too drunk at the moment, and whatever you do now will be long forgotten the next morning.

Renjun still doesn’t say anything, relishing in the kiss on the cheek just seconds ago. His fingers lightly touch his face, grazing upon the very part your lips came in contact with. He’s truly through the moon and— “I used to have the biggest crush on Jaemin.” Renjun abruptly steps on the brakes, whipping the both of you in your seats.

His heart is falling, it’s plummeting and he can’t do anything to save it. “I really didn’t expect such a surprised reaction.”

Renjun clears his throat. “I’m just caught off guard.” Not a lie, he really wasn’t expecting a confession and his heart to break right at this moment. “Why Jaemin?”

He knows why Jaemin. He’s a social butterfly with no caution to the wind and a heart made of pure kindness. A welcoming friendly figure that won’t hesitate to feed into someone’s need for words of affirmation. Not to mention, Jaemin has a good few inches above him and looks of a poster kpop idol. Of course, you liked Jaemin.

“He has such a good heart. I guess I just like guys who think of me first, as selfish as that sounds. I don’t prioritize myself, so it would be nice if someone else did.” You fiddle your thumbs and Renjun is impatiently tapping his fingers against the wheel.

The red traffic light before you enacts two different feelings. Renjun wants this ride to end as fast as possible. You want this ride to last forever.

“But, Jaemin is seeing someone.”

Your head ducks down and out the window at the shining streetlamps; you know very well about Jaemin’s love life. “I didn’t expect anything from him. I just liked him for him. He came to pick me up every time I would ask, I guess I have a thing for guys who do that.”

Renjun tightens his grip, heart pounding at your statement. You peer up to look at your friend in the lack of light. His glasses sit low on his nose bridge, a soft cotton shirt hugs his torso, and pajama pants that clad his legs. A mess bed of hair as the cherry on top.

After Jaemin, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t fall for anyone so easily. All of that was thrown out the window the very first night Renjun came to your saving. Despite contrary belief, your heart is not as impenetrable as people make you out to be. And as tough as you can be, it was too hard not to be the slightest interested in him.

Ever since your first meeting, Renjun has always been cool and collected. He’s a hothead at his best, but too playful for any serious damage. Renjun reminds you of yourself. Like a huge impenetrable wall built against any trouble to enter, he is as guarded as you are. He’s timid, and while you had tried your best to hide your own, Renjun simply embraces that part of him.

Renjun stayed after every tearful night. He’s helped you through every difficult study guide, if anything he saved your failing grade.

Renjun puts you first throughout anything; asking if you want the booth seat at restaurants, strategically walking on the outer side so you can avoid driving cars, always has your favorite snacks without you asking. Every tiny gesture, may you be slightly delusional, seemed as if he loved you. And if he did, you wouldn’t mind one bit because you wanted to love him back.

“What about you? We’ve never really talked about our love lives before.” You speak up in the silence, Rejun being awfully quiet tonight. He hopes you don’t blame him, but everything has been too overwhelming. He is no longer sure on what he wants to do or how to react.

“My love life is too sad to talk about.” He’s never wanted to talk about it with you, in case he’d slip up and say something too revealing. “It’s a long list of unrequited loves. I’ve given up on professing my feelings to someone at this point.”

“What would have to happen to get you to confess?” Your eyes coin a mischievous twinkle.

Renjun feels his palms grow sweaty, a bit nervous with this conversation topic. 

“Something catastrophic.”

Something catastrophic did end up happening. Renjun wishes he could disappear, or if he runs away, would anyone notice?

He stands behind your fuming stance. In any other given situation, Renjun would be more than flattered that you’re standing up for him. However in this case, you’re making a fool out of yourself on his behalf.

“Oh, so you haven’t told (Y/N) about the bet?” Of all the nights Renjun decides to accompany you on a Friday evening, he runs until the one person he never wanted to come within ten feet to.

Truthfully, the night was going well. He ran into a few of his other acquaintances from his club, others from his classes. You held onto his arm the moment you two entered the party, afraid to lose this precious boy in the dense crowd. People walked by and expressed how cute you two looked together.

You poured him drinks that will make his head throb and you busted dance moves that made his heart throb. You were the epitome of a fun time, like an explosion of positive endorphins. Your toothy smiles. Your bright electrified eyes. Your sweet laughter. This was the last beautiful image he had of you before everything came falling apart.

“What bet?” You quickly turn around to face Renjun. His hand scratches the back of his neck and his gaze stays staring at his own feet. Your throat grows tight from Renjun’s hesitation.

“He made a bet with me that he could get you to fall in love with him.” Please stop talking, Renjun begs in his thoughts. He tightens his fist, unable to form words to speak. The thumping of the loud music makes it hard to focus.

“He—” Shaky voice and stuttering… even you are having doubts of Renjun’s character. “He wouldn’t do that.” Your eyes bounce between him and Renjun.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you don't know him very well then.” Renjun’s arrogant friend crosses his arms coolly, a smug smirk unfolding on his face.

“It’s true, (Y/N). I did make the bet and I regret it every waking day.” Renjun finally speaks up, but you’re out the door before he can continue.

There isn’t another thought in his head when he’s running after you; you’re already so far down the road. The secret was bound to be revealed, but he wasn’t ready for it. He was never going to be ready for this day because his first mistake was making the bet to begin with.

He should have thought about you. He should have just swallowed his pride and talked his friend out of it. Was that a choice? Could he have just done that instead of letting it fester into such a problem?

Out of breath and out of mind, Renjun calls out your name. When you spin on your heels to walk toward him, his heart reaches for you. However, you push at his chest and he almost falls backwards.

You’re angry, more than angry. You’re upset. You have every right to be. “What were you thinking, Renjun?” There is a small crack in your voice and he can see your tear stained cheeks under the moonlight. “Am I even your friend? All this time… you had an agenda. Were your actions all fake, then? You wanted to manipulate me into falling in love with you?”

Your words are hitting like large bricks. You are questioning the past five months of your friendship and everything Renjun has ever done for you. A false reality, Renjun didn’t actually give a damn about you. He wanted to prove some odd male status. Could you be any more blind?

“Please let me explain… I was drunk out of my mind that night and the bet I made was stupid. It was before proper evaluation. Does it make it okay? No, I understand that.” Renjun speaks with his hands, clearly panicked and frazzled by the way they waved around in the air. “The bet… I did it to protect you from that guy. I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“So you hurt me instead?” If someone were to listen closely, they would be able to hear the shattering of two hearts tonight. On this late evening, two hearts are broken under the moon and stars.

But it’s pitiful because the arrow that struck Renjun remains intact. He still loves you, which is why it pains him so much to where he can’t breathe. The information in his head is scattered, like an alarm blaring through his empty brain.

All he knows is that he loves you. You are the one thing he’s afraid of losing. From the first words you two exchanged, his fear that he hid all too well is and always will be losing you.

“That was not my intention ever. I never wanted to hurt you.” Renjun takes a step closer, but you take one back.

“Well you did because your little bet… it worked. I love you, Renjun, so congratulations.” There is bitterness and an inexplicable amount of heartbreak that lace your venomous confession.

All of his life, he thought that if one person liked him back, he’d be the happiest person in the world. Possibly confused at how to proceed with the information, but definitely glad that someone could see any redeeming characteristics in him.

But he feels all the opposite. Your confession keeps his heart broken. If anything, it puzzles him more. “How..? Why would you ever like me?” There were no tricks, no attempts at flirtation, nothing out of bounds of being your friend. He just had himself. And if anyone in the universe were to like him, he’d never expect it would be you.

You groan, growing more infuriated at Renjun. “Because you’re everything I wish I could be. You’re level-headed and insightful. You’re calm and cool, without any necessary arrogance. The way you make me feel… I feel important to you, at least, I thought I was.” Your voice continues to drop softer and softer, “how could I not like you?”

The butterflies could not come at a better time. Hearing you compliment him when he found it difficult to look past his own self deprecation, he’s beyond any levels of shock. Nevertheless, he feels apologetic and knew that this is all too good to be true.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), for making that terrible bet. But, I need you to know one thing: our friendship was genuine. All I’ve ever wanted these past months is to make sure your sweet smile stays resting on your beautiful face.”

“Why? You didn’t know me! You used me for some … pride gamble. I was nothing to you the day you made that bet.” You shout harsh words at him, and Renjun can’t hold back any longer.

This is what he meant by something catastrophic. When he’s pushed to the edge of a cliff, all his buttons are pressed aggressively. Everything falling apart. The loose ends coming undone all too quickly to grapple. He never wanted it to come to this.

“That-That’s not true! I loved you long before that regretful night! You mean every single moment of happiness to me. You’re every ray of sunshine that kisses my skin, every blue sky that reminds me of good days. You mean everything to me.” Genuine words pour from his lips, hoping that you’ll understand what’s left of his heart.

“You’re confessing?” You gasp, practically dazed at the amount of metaphors he compared you to. “Something catastrophic.” A small moment of recollection and a mumble under your breath, you’re understanding what he meant by the phrase he used several nights ago.

“Yes because I can't lose you. I’m a mess of feelings at the moment, but I just know that I’m scared to wake up to days without you in them.” Renjun pleads, the night air causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. His eyes are full of melancholy and fear as he waits for your response.

And you want to forgive him, but would that mean your heart is being too easy? You feel lingering pain, but your eyes reflect Renjun. “To think I thought you were pretty fearless.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes at him and are completely unsure what to do next.

Nevertheless, you’ve wanted someone like Renjun at some point in your life. You hoped for better days and those didn’t start happening until you two met. Renjun went from being your distant study partner to being your number one person to call. He’s wiped more tears than any boy has.

The difference between Renjun and Jaemin is while Jaemin is known to have an extravagantly warm presence, Renjun’s is hidden underneath all the quietness. Like a breakthrough, getting through Renjun felt like getting through to yourself. You needed him to aid in your own self love.

All you’ve ever wanted is to be seen and Renjun saw you.

“I forgive you.” Renjun can finally breathe and rest his tense muscles. But when he reaches for your hand, you take it away. “But it doesn’t mean we are okay. I’ll approach you when I’m ready.”

It’s not easy to love as it’s not easy to pretend that everything can go back to normal after being hurt. You need him to understand that, would he wait for you? The many others before didn’t.

“Okay.” That is all he can say, in the midst of a defeat, he still wishes that you’d stay by his side. But he wrestles that desire with transparency and having organic feelings. Nonetheless, he values the latter. If you did really somehow manage to love him, you’ll come back when you’re ready. He knows. He understands. He sees you through and through.

And he watches you disappear back into the house to find a friend to drive you home. He loves you, but love can also be consequential.

It’s already midway into the school semester and not that Renjun is counting or anything, but it’s been practically a whole month since the night at the party. He’s done nothing, except sigh in despair and reminisce about the memories before they were ruined.

While Jaemin’s efforts to console him are much appreciated, it doesn’t do much for the fact that you haven’t acknowledged Renjun’s existence for a whole thirty days.

And although he’ll wait a lifetime for you, the question of when he should move on ponders his clouded thoughts. His intensively agonizing desire of wanting to be by your side has dwindled down now. Renjun just wants to see you happy.

“Hey Cupid,” It’s a newly despised nickname coined by the one and only person who knows how to push at Renjun’s buttons — Lee Haechan. Haechan knocks obnoxiously at his door and does not wait around to hear an answer, “get your sad face out here.”

“Go away, Haechan. I’m not in the mood.” As Renjun mindlessly skims over his calendar for important dates, he is pained by the reminder of your upcoming birthday. You had marked it yourself a while back and specifically told Renjun that his attendance is entirely mandatory.

Times have changed now, right? You’ve been radio silent for weeks and as much as he hates to say this to himself: you probably don’t remember making such an assertion. Why would you? You’re most likely not thinking about him anymore anyways and maybe that’s for the better.

“Hey! Lovestruck Asshole, I’m not going to tell you again. Get that arrow out of your ass and come outside now.” Just the demand alone in Haechan’s voice irritates Renjun enough to where he’s storming to open his door.

But what it reveals is not the smirk of his annoying housemate, instead, it is the image of the very first time Renjun ever laid eyes on you and the moment Cupid’s Arrow struck right through his heart. It’s a rush of nostalgia that surges through his veins.

You sit with a hand underneath your chin and elbow pressing into a flat surface for support. The dazed stare of daydream as you’re unaware of your surroundings, yet still waiting for something exciting to catch your attention. And just how lovely you look in the softest rose colored shirt and how your lips, still barely glistening from a quick swipe of your tongue, are slightly agape into an expressionless rest.

All before your eyes trail to the distraction of another body entering the room and for a brief second, make eye contact with Renjun as he’s all the more astonished by your grace. Then like a scene that’s imprinted in his head too clearly, your gaze drops back down to the floor and you’re back to your inner thoughts.

As if the pierced arrow in his heart is triggered, Renjun rediscovers the feelings of a newfound infatuation — a crush. Though baseless except in regards to physical attraction, he’s nonetheless amazed by how quickly you take his breath away… again.

Unlike the first memory, you actually speak to him as you’re now familiar with the starry eyed boy. “It’s been a while.”

The color in your voice that he’s missed hearing is pure music. He clears his throat as if he’s afraid of his own vocal chords breaking from nervousness.

“H-Hey, yeah. It’s been a while.” Renjun repeats dumbfounded that you’re even sitting in his shared living room.

“How have you been?” There you are being polite, but the giddiness still runs like static through his veins at being asked about his well being.

“Lost.” He blurts out the first word that comes to mind. Perhaps, he should stop using words with such heavy implications to friendly gestures. Your head immediately pops up and he scrambles to correct himself. “I mean I’ve been distracted lately.”

“Sadness really does take its course.” You tread lightly, testing the waters with a small grin. The atmosphere is oddly comforting, like feeling you can’t quite replace.

Renjun looks rather rough around the edges, but you don’t blame him since you did show up unannounced. However, the glint in his eyes is much of a delight to see. The way his small mouth curves into the tiniest smile and the gentleness in his regular cadence remind you of past long days full of laughter. The best part of them all — you spent them together.

“My birthday is coming up soon.” Jumping straight to the point of your visit, you stand up to approach him. “I plan to host a small party… and I remember saying a while back that your attendance is mandatory.”

Renjun catches his breath in his throat and he could run gleeful laps around the room if it isn’t for the poorly spaced complex. “So are you still down, Huang Renjun?”

“I’d love that.” He smiles greatly at your offer and as simple as that, your arms wrap around his torso into a long awaited embrace.

“Me too.” You mumble into his shirt and take a deep breath of his lavender scented detergent, “I’m ready. I’m ready to have you in my life. I’m ready to laugh with you. I’m ready to lay in your company. I’m ready to give you my heart.”

As you finish your last sentence, his arms wrap around you too and pull you into a tighter hold. “You have always had mine.”

Renjun can finally remove the arrow that unforgivingly stayed stuck in his heart for the longest time. Your reciprocated love fills up the hole that is left behind. He can now love you with a full and whole heart.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || Deletes Something Important [Request]

A/N: I’m still trying to get into the swing of writing for these babies, BUT Please go and VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! And Stream (depending on when this comes out) these babies deserve the world honestly

A/N: My writing is under keep reading signs to stop from blocking up peoples dashes, sorry again to everyone it annoyed.

Chan:

Chan was supposed to be asleep beside you but he'd tried to drift off but couldn't his mind was elsewhere. You were asleep next to him and he was getting nervous about work he was supposed to have been emailing with JYP but he'd left his laptop at the JYP building and he didn't want to get into trouble but not replying at all so he took hold of yours and opened it up. It was no big deal you always let him use your laptop so he logged in and began emailing with JYP when a document popped up on the screen without giving it a second thought he clicked off it without saving and then his eyes widened as he realised what it was, across the screen were the words.

''Deleting 10K Essay For English'' He scrambled trying to get back what he'd deleted but the laptop wasn't cooperating with him and he was starting to get stressed. You stirred in your sleep turning over and facing Chan and he panicked looking down at the screen once again trying to recover the file but it wasn't working,

"Chris, what are you doing?" You grumbled realising he was still awake, normally he could sleep when he was beside you but clearly not tonight.

"I was writing an email and then I accidentally deleted your essay I'm so sorry though. I'm trying to get it back but it's not working." You rubbed your eyes and sat up in the bed taking the laptop away from him and going into the deleted system to recover what he'd deleted.

"I hadn't started it yet anyway." You said showing him that the only thing on the document was your name, date and title of the project. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he realised he hadn't deleted anything too important,

"Will you cuddle me now? I'm tired." You mumbled to him laying back down beside him, he shut the laptop and snuggled up behind your so his arm was dropping over your side and he dragged you closer to him.

"Goodnight baby," He whispered in your ear, you hummed and closed your eyes listening to him breathing to help you drift off back to sleep and Chan laid there listening to you snore softly while drawing invisible patterns into your skin.

Minho:

"Can I borrow your laptop?!" You heard Lee Know yell over the runner water,

"Sure!" You yelled back going back to washing yourself, you'd just gotten done with another dance video for your Youtube channel and you were looking forward to editing them all later now that filming was out and done for the next two weeks. Minho was clicking off the excessive amount of internet tabs that you had open not checking that he was now closing down the videos that you'd had ready to save without saving them and then doing what he needed to do he hadn't even noticed that he'd just deleted two weeks worth of work.

(X)

"Hey, baby?" You asked later that night when you sat down ready to edit everything you'd been recording but everything was gone,

"Yeah?" He asked looking up from his phone to look at you, you looked away from the screen with a worried look on your face,

"Did you delete anything earlier?" You questioned trying to stay as calm as you could without kicking off at him because it wasn't his fault,

"No, I just closed a bunch of internet tabs. You know it'll make your computer run slow if you keep those up all the time." You groaned laying your head down on the table in front of you trying to think of some way to recover everything he'd closed.

"What?" He questioned locking his phone and walking over to you and sitting down on the floor beside you and saw that you were tearing up,

"Jagi?" He asked but you lifted your head and wiped your face taking in a deep breath and trying to stay calm, Minho didn't know what he'd done so you couldn't get mad at him for it.

"It's nothing, I'll just see if I can find them." You mumbled looking through the deleted files but everything was gone since your computer did its own wiping system,

"What was it?" You didn't want to make him feel bad about something that he did by accident,

"You deleted my dance files, it's okay though I'll just reshoot everything." You told him shutting the laptop down and then going over to your dance room, you took one look inside and decided you would start filming tomorrow it was way too late to start filming them all now.

"I'll help you." He promised following behind you and began rubbing your shoulders kissing your cheek and promising himself he'd do anything to make up for deleting the files.

Changbin:

You'd been working on some songs with Chan for a while now and everything was starting to come into place, and you were starting to put vocals to it with the help from Chan and Seungmin who you were getting to sing for you because you weren't about that yet. Changbin hadn't known you'd been working on songs because you wanted it to be a surprise for him but it was about to be ruined because he'd just accidentally broke the USB that was containing everything you'd been working hard on for the last 2 months.

"Changbin?!" You called as you walked through the front door of your apartment, you were in a good mood since you'd just gotten a raise at work and Changbin didn't want to ruin that by showing you the broken USB so he hid it behind him and smiled at you but you knew that smile too well,

"I know that smile, that's your, 'I did something wrong but I don't know how to tell you' smile." He slowly pulled out the USB from behind him and you dropped your bag on the floor rushing over to him and look at it,

"Changbin? How?" You pulled it from his hand and took your laptop out to try and see if you could do anything,

"I was trying to use your laptop and I accidentally dropped it and the USB snapped." You groaned looking through the laptop for any signs of the broken USB being recognised but it was all gone, everything.

You called Chris after it happened to see if he had anything backed up and luckily for you, it was all backed up on a second USB stick for you sitting in his studio.

"What happened?"

"Changbin broke it by accident." You laughed looking over at Changbin who was staring at you with a guilty look on his face, you hung up on Chris and walked over to Changbin.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident." You shook your head sitting down beside him and snuggling your head onto his shoulder.

"It's fine, Chris has everything backed up for me." You whispered then telling him why you had been in such a good mood when you first walked into the apartment.

(Grr in tiny)

Hyunjin:

You were giving directions over the phone to Hyunjin, you were sitting in your office at work when you realised that you'd left your important work at home.

"Just email them over to me." You told him as you looked through the door, your boss was making his way over and if you didn't have the photographs you were most likely going to get fired for them being so late. You were already a week behind and you couldn't believe that you'd left them at home, you'd spent hours editing them to be perfect.

"The big red button?" Hyunjin asked and you assumed he meant the one that said send in your email so you told him yes, waiting patiently for the email but then you heard him yelling to himself.

"Hyunjin?" You called out looking at the phone to see if it had been disconnected but it hadn't.

"Hyunjin? What happened?" There was mumbling and shuffling on the other line and then you heard a thick Australian accent and you knew Felix was in the room now,

"Felix?!" The line went dead and you stared at the screen wondering what to do when it started calling back but with Han's number,

"Han? What's going on!?" You panicked looking over at your boss who was getting closer and closer to your office,

"He accidentally deleted them but Felix is trying to get them back." You stared out of the window wondering if you could jump out of it without breaking a leg, it was two floors high so chances of breaking a bone were high.

"Fuck. My boss is almost here." You whispered to Han who could tell how panicked you were and began to rush the boys into fixing it faster.

"Check your emails." You heard Felix call out and you opened your desktop looking through the emails and finding them sitting there.

"Felix I could kiss you right now!" You yelled looking at the photos and getting them ready for your boss to view them.

"Please don't." He called out, you hung up the phone and got ready for your boss who was standing at your door with a small smile on your face, ready to see what you had ready fro him.

Jisung:

The USB was sitting in two pieces in Jisung's hand and he didn't know what to do, you were due home any second from work and he didn't know how he was going to fix this or tell you that he'd just broken 4 years worth of book writing in one sitting, he little sat down without looking and broke the USB stick by accident. He knew how hard you'd been working on that book since you were spending every moment of your free time on it and he felt terrible, the door clicked open and he looked up to see you standing there holding takeout containers ready for your date night, your hands looked down at his and you saw the USB stick but instead of getting mad like he had expected you too you were calm about it and took the food out into the kitchen,

"You're not mad?" He questioned following you into the kitchen and showing you the USB, you looked up at him and kissed him on the cheek.

"Nope," He watched you walking around the kitchen in search for your plates.

"But it's broken..."

"Baby." You giggled turning to look at him and he looked as though he was the one going to cry, you wandered over to the other side of the kitchen opening a small drawer showing him 3 other USB sticks.

"I back it up every day." You told him taking the broken one from his hand and putting it into the bin,

"Plate food up, I need to pee." You giggled kissing him quickly and running off to the bathroom, Jisung relaxed instantly. Feeling better that you weren't mad at him for accidentally breaking something with so much work on it.

Felix:

You'd been spending weeks working on the home project for your mum, you'd found all the old VHS tapes of you and your family when you were younger and you were converting them all so they would be on a DVD instead of a VHS tape for everyone to view.

"I swear I've been working so hard my fingers are numb Chan, I don't know how you do this all the time." You said to Chan as he handed you some food, he'd come over to see you and Felix at your apartment and you were sitting at the dinner table together looking over at your laptop.

"What have you done so far?" You got it out and showed him what you'd been doing that day, you were on the tape of your brother.

"He's going to kill me, I'm keeping every embarrassing moment I can find on it." Felix came running into the room when he realised he was late for dinner, he'd been up in the shower for the last hour singing.

"What did I miss?" He slipped on the floor and knocked the table sending a drink flying over and spilling onto your laptop.

"NO!" You screamed out as you watched the screen fade to black and then Felix look guilty,

"Fuck." You cried out taking the laptop and trying to dry it out but it wasn't going to work, it was ruined.

"Baby I'm sorry-" You looked at Felix and he stopped talking, he could see how upset you were about it and he knew how hard you'd been working so he felt even worse.

"I'll help," You shook your head at him,

"No, it's fine...I'll- I'll figure something out." You whispered taking the laptop and putting it on the table and staring at it.

"I'll see if I can air it out," Chan added looking at it and wondering how he was going to manage it but you were already on your phone looking at your contract to see what was covered under the warranty, Felix left the room going to get started on editing the video's he'd seen you starting with before.

Seungmin:

Lockdown was starting to get to you but your assignments were done and ready to be sent in for their due dates the only good thing about being on lockdown was that you were with your boyfriend Seungmin when everything was passed, meaning you got to spend more time in Korea with him so you were working from the dorms and staying with them. You'd become like a housewife, working on your assignment when they were at the studio and once your assignments were done you would clean up for them and cook for when they would come in.

"You're an angel, you know that?" Felix said as you laid a plate down in front of him, you laughed and shook your head at him and looked over at Seungmin who was looking guilty,

"What's up with him?" You questioned with a small laugh behind your voice, Felix shrugged.

"He's been weird since we got in," Jeongin mentioned as you placed food in front of him as well,

"You haven't told her yet have you?" Han asked looking between you and Seungmin but he was met by a death glare from Seungmin you sat down next to him.

"Tell me what?" You questioned him but he stayed silent not wanting to bring it up at the dinner table but it was him or Han that was going to.

"I accidentally deleted four of your assignments." You dropped the fork that was in your hand and everyone stared up at you, even Chan who was getting ready to go back to the studio again.

"You what?" You asked looking at him and you could tell he was guilty about it, he took you out of the kitchen and towards his form room so he could explain everything and you told him it was fine. That you'd tried to get them back and if not you would rewrite everything again.

"You're not mad?" He asked taking your hand in his and running his thumb along your knuckles but you shook your head,

"I was ahead anyway, it's fine I'll just redo them if I have to." You reassured him but he still wasn't convinced about it, you kissed him on the cheek and told him to go and eat before the food went cold.

Jeongin:

Everything was ready to be sent off for your first job interview, you'd just gotten done with your skype interview and you were getting ready to send all of your art projects over to the interviewer who was waiting to view everything but nothing was where it was supposed to be on your laptop and you couldn't find any of the original files.

"Jeongin?" You called out picking up the laptop and carrying it through to the living room of the dorms to find him playing video games with Felix,

"Yeah?" He asked glancing at you and then back at the screen,

"Were you on my laptop today?" It was normally never a problem but once everything was gone it was starting to be a problem, he paused the game much to the disgust from Felix who looked up to see you. They could both see the panicked look on your face and Felix didn't know what to do about it, Jeongin got up and nodded at you.

"Yeah, why?"

"All my artwork is gone, the ones I needed for the interview, did you delete anything?" He shook his head and you sat on the floor putting the laptop on the table and double-checking that it wasn't there in case you missed something, but it was all gone.

"Don't you have it backed up?" Felix questioned and you shook your head at him,

"I broke the back up USB and I'm fucked if I don't get this in right now." You whispered looking at the screen, Jeongin asked what the folder was called and as soon as he heard the name and he felt awful.

"I may have accidentally, deleted it." You stared at him and Felix backed out of the room not wanting to be there for the discussion that was going to happen,

"How?" Jeongin took the laptop from your hands and began to look through the files on everything that was deleted earlier.

"You told me to clean it all up and I thought it was one of my folders. I'm so sorry." He continued to search for them and he finally found them in the recently deleted section, recovering it all and helping you send it to your interviewer.

[peterspideyy]

what for? | part two

part one

summary- you call your boyfriend, peter. but, it isn’t a happy one. and he’ll remember it for the rest of his life.

warnings- angst, swearing

————

it’s been a month, three days, five hours and two minutes since you left.

peter still remembers that phone call vividly. it’s like, it’s been surgically planted into his mind for all eternity. everything reminds him off that call. and he despises it.

there’s been a funeral.

it was nice. peaceful.

peter knows you would of hated it though- everyone was too upset and dressed in all black. he’s knows you would of wanted people smiling or wearing colourful clothes. but, you weren’t there to tell him that’s what you wanted. peter was the only one not crying at your funeral. your whole family, even the avengers were sobbing.

except him.

he didn’t have any tears left.

he was empty.

“what for, love?”

the sound on the other end went silent, as peter waited for you to answer his question.

“darling? what’s wrong? you can tell me anything you know.” he ushered, feeling a slight panic rise in his body at how quiet it was on the phone.

it was too quiet.

“y/n?” another voice was heard suddenly, and he immediately recognised it as tony’s.

“mr stark?” peter shouted, in hopes tony could hear him. luckily, he did.

“pete?”

“yeah it’s me, where’s y/n?” peter questioned, genuine worry in his voice.

“i-“ tony couldn’t speak. what could he say? he was heartbroken, at the sight of you- dead.

“tony.” peter warned, making the man start to cry over your body.

“tony! where the hell is y/n?” he was shouting now, and tony could imagine him pacing around, hands pulling at his hair.

“peter...i’m so sorry.” tony mumbled, voice croaking with silent sobs.

“can you just tell me what’s going on?!” he screamed, as his hands started to shake.

“she’s gone.”

may has tried to get him to eat. he doesn’t want to. he doesn’t know the last time he ate alone. it sounds stupid- to not wanting to eat on your own. but, he always ate with you. and now you weren’t here anymore.

he’s not going to school, either. his teachers keep on sending him work, but he just see’s you. smiling and laughing. it doesn’t help that you were in all of his lessons. and how he remembers on friday afternoons, when you were both drained from the week you just had, how you would sit in the back of the class, hands intertwined, as you both whispered sweet nothings into each other’s ears. he loved those days.

but, you weren’t here to have those days again.

if he knew you were dying on that phone call, he would of said how much he loved you. how much he appreciated you. but, while you were trying to stay alive, he was too busy trying to set up a stupid date night.

he just wishes you told him.

he wishes for a lot of things. but, not everyone can get what they want.

a knock on the door inturrupted peter’s thoughts, as he looked up to see may entering with a sympathetic smile on her face. “there’s someone here to see you.”

he doesn’t know why, but a little bit of hope fluttered in peter’s stomach. he’s heard about how people fake their death on missions, and he prays that’s what happened with you. but, when tony stark walked in, his face dropped.

he was stupid to even think that you were alive.

“hey, kid.”

“i’m so sorry, kid, she’s gone.” tony whispered, tears falling down his cheek at the sound of peter’s broken cries on the phone.

“hi.”

tony looked around his room, taking in how much of a mess it was. he also noticed, how all of y/n’s belongings were spaced out on his bed. and then, tony took in peter. he had deep purple bags under his eyes. tears stained his cheek, as his bloodshot eyes starred at a random point in the wall. anthony coughed slightly, before sitting next to peter on the bed.

“how are you?”

peter shrugged.

“listen i know it’s hard, i’ve lost a person i love too i-“

“no.” peter cut off.

“yes, you loved...” peter stopped. he hasn’t said y/n’s name since that phone call. “her but it wasn’t in the same why like i did. so please, don’t say that you get me, because you don’t.”

tony had expected peter to snap back at him, for whatever he was going to say. so he wasn’t shocked.

“i am truely sorry, peter. i now how much you cared for her.”

peter looked down at his hands. “yeah.”

a minute of silence passed, before tony remembered why he came. “listen, i was going through old files this week, and i found this.”

he extended out a small blue usb, causing peter to take it out of his grasp.

“i watched the first couple of seconds, just to check what it actually was, but i think you would want to watch it.”

“what is it?”

“it’s from y/n.”

peter’s eyes went wide, tears forming in his eyes, as he turned to face tony. “what?”

tony titled his head to the side, smiling slightly, before patting his shoulder. “i’ll leave you alone, kid. i’m always here for you.”

“thank you, mr stark.” peter smiled back, but it never reached his eyes as tony nodded his head before leaving his room, and closing the door behind him.

as soon as the door clicked closed, peter shot up to his laptop, putting the usb into the side of the device. a folder popped up on his screen called ‘peter parker.’

he breathed out, double clicking on the blue folder before it opened to reveal one video. clicking on the video, an image of you popped up, making his breath hitch. it was just you, starring into the camera in mid talk, but it made peter’s heart melt.

he wiped away some tears that were falling, before clicking play.

“hi- oh shit-“ the camera fell of your desk, as you yelled making peter chuckle. you were always so clumsy. after picking up the camera, changing the angle slightly, you dropped your hands to your side, smiling widely.

“hi! sorry about that.” you laughed, looking down which is what you did when you were nervous. peter smiled softly, at your little gesture.

“so, i don’t know why i’m doing this. but, if your watching this peter, then i’ve passed. i hope your okay. i’m sorry that i left you this early. i don’t know, joining the avengers has put a higher risk of me getting more hurt. i know you have had your disagreements on me joining.”

peter remembers that argument. he was so worried about you. he wouldn’t want you to get hurt. or worse.

“but, i’m glad we’ve gone past that. but, just incase of an untimely death, i’ve made this little video in private. even though, darling, your asleep next door, so hopefully i haven’t woke you up by my screaming before.”

you giggled on the screen.

so did peter in his empty room.

“erm...when i first met you, on that cold, december day in high school, i knew you were my soulmate. even though, you were very nervous and kept on stuttering over every single word, i knew you would be the love of my life. the one thing i didn’t expect you to be, was to be my bestfriend. and i appreciate you so much for that.”

you breathed out, tears forming in your eyes as you looked deeply into the camera, making peter cover his hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs.

“i- you helped me with everything. i never had a good relationship with anyone. until you. this sounds so cliche, but you made me the person i am today. and no words could describe how grateful i am for that.”

you breathed in, catching your breath before speaking again.

“if i do pass, i want you to move on, alright? i don’t want to see you crying everyday. you deserve to experience love, pete. i hope i do get to spend the rest of my life with you, but stuff happens. you deserve to find someone who loves you as much as i do.”

tears were falling down both of your cheeks now, and peter had to stop himself from bringing his hand up to the screen and wipe them away softly.

but, he had to remind himself that it wasn’t real.

you weren’t in-front of him.

“sorry. i shouldn’t be crying,” you laughed, wiping away your tears, making peter pout, “i just...i’m so overwhelmed with how much i love you. your probably going to be really confused when you wake up to see my sobbing.”

you laughed, before stopping at another voice in the background.

it was his.

“y/n?”

peter remembers waking up on that day, panic filling him at the empty sheets next to him.

if only he knew what you were doing.

“oh shit, you’re awake.” you whispered chuckling slightly, as you leaned in to switch the camera off before freezing.

“thank you, peter benjamin parker. for everything.”

with one last smile, the video ended.

and peter’s sobs started.

————

a/n- sorry about how short this is, but thank you for reading :)

————

peter parker taglist-

@24kbucky @parkersbliss @liberty-barnes @icyhollands @dreamofaprilsblog @deathofmissjackson @averyfosterthoughts @jannine00742 @beverlyparkerr @anapocalypseinmymind @itstaskeen

[awanderingdeal]

Never too late - 4 - 5

A continuation of Leo and Regulus' attempts (antics) to give Regulus the childhood he never had.

CW: All content warnings relate to Part 5: piercings and food talk

Please message me if you feel I need to add any content warnings

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist

Credit for the sweater universe and the characters within it go to @lumosinlove. What a hero.

4. Take photos! Candids, selfies and posed group shots. They’ll hold the best memories.

“Merde, what are you doing?” Logan asked, resting his head on Leo's shoulder as he peered at the laptop.

Leo grinned, tipping his head back slightly so he could press a kiss against Logan’s cheek, “I’m getting inspiration.”

“That cleared a grand total of nothing up,” Logan huffed, circling the sofa so that he could flop next to Leo. “Oh my God, no. I thought I had deleted everything from back then” he groaned, reaching to close the lid of the device.

Leo swatted his hand away with a scowl. “First of all, I am offended that you never told me that you used to have bangs,” he gestured to the image of a young Logan on the screen, laughter bubbling in chest. “Second, I think you may have caught most yours, but you failed to check your tagged photos.”

Logan sighed again, apparently resigning himself to the fact Leo was going to trawl through the photos no matter what. “Is there at least a reason that you are torturing me like this?” he asked, curling into Leo’s side.

“It started off as me finding inspiration for classic high school photos to take with Reg, but now I’m just looking at how adorable you were at 14.” Leo chuckled.

***

“I want to be on the top!” James yelled, earning a snigger from Finn.

“No, Logan needs to go on the top, he’s the smallest and I’m not breaking my back for you idiots,” Kasey said from where he was braced on all fours.

“He’s actually very heavy. Like a tiny ball of muscle,” Finn said. Logan seemed conflicted as to whether he should be thanking his boyfriend or reprimanding him, the confused frown making Leo smile, but he figured he should intervene before a full on argument broke out.

“Maybe we should ask Regulus where he wants to go? These are his photos after all,” Leo suggested, turning his gaze onto the man in question.

Regulus threw his hands up, shaking his head. “I was coerced into this madness,” he defended. “But if I must participate then I want to go on top. At least then I don’t get squashed when this goes wrong.”

“O, yee of little faith,” Thomas scoffed, making a dramatic show of stretching his limbs.

“I’m retiring after this season, I’m too old for this,” Dumo groaned as he joined Kasey on the floor.

“You say this every season,” Kuny laughed, taking the spot next to Pascal and nudging him in the shoulder.

“Alright, Cap. I think you better go on the base too,” Leo said, laughing at the scowl he earned. It appeared that Sirius had been trying to make himself blend into the cushions in the hopes he might get out of the photo, but Leo wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “For Reg?”

“Regulus doesn’t even…” Sirius began to argue, but he was interrupted by his brother’s low chuckle.

“I have suddenly changed my mind. Come on Sirius, don’t be a spoil sport,” Regulus teased.

Sirius opened his mouth to start a rebuttal, but all that came out was a resigned sigh, and the man heaved himself to his feet, getting a loud cheer from the rest of the team. Once he had taken his spot, the rest of the pyramid seemed to form easily. James, Remus, Leo, Logan and Finn all climbed on, until eventually it was Regulus’s turn. With a little help from Timmy and Olli, the man managed to take his place at the top of the pyramid.

“Okay, Sergei, take the photo,” Leo instructed, feeling parts of the pyramid begin to shake.

“Which button is -” Sergei asked, before a semblance of a smile crossed his face. “Oh, found it.” Just as the words left Sergei’s mouth, Leo found himself tumbling to the floor, several of his team mates on top of him, a chorus of grumbling in several different languages erupting as they clutched various body parts.

“If anybody has broken anything, I am not explaining this to Coach,” Sirius declared, from under James and Finn.

“Did you at least get the photo?” Dumo asked.

“No, we need to do again,” Sergei grinned, a groan reverberating around the room from the rest of the team.

***

Regulus wiped his hand across his cheek so subtly that he nearly missed it, but the redness in his eyes was obvious.

“Are you crying?” Leo asked quietly, feeling the muscles 0f his forehead tense into a concerned frown.

“I’m fine,” Regulus said, blinking rapidly, shutting the scrapbook perched on his lap with a little more force than necessary. Leo had spent hours compiling the photos taken over the last few months into it: the forming a pyramid, two dozen or so polaroids taken at various events, a fair few with peace signs; the transition of Regulus slowly becoming more comfortable with the action obvious with each one, another was a take on the classic shoe circle only with hockey skates. Somehow James had snuck several selfies of himself into the mix.

“No, Reggie, what’s the matter?” Leo pulled the book from Regulus’s hands and put it on the coffee table, turning so that he could face his friend more easily.

Regulus shrugged, playing with the sleeve of his shirt, a nervous habit Leo had picked up on over the past few months. “I...I just never really had any friends in high school. It’s kind of hard when you’re taught to see everybody as competition, you know? So, I don’t really have any photos that aren’t stuffy family portraits or media shots. I didn’t realise that bothered me until now.”

Leo bundled Regulus into a hug, his friend making a disgruntled sound as he found himself pressed against Leo’s chest. “Just accept it,” Leo huffed, wondering how he had managed to find himself saddled with so many emotionally constipated hockey (or ex-hockey) players.

5. Find your style - change your hair, get a new piercing, buy a new outfit. Go wild!

“Hey, Reg,” Finn waved, mumbling through a mouthful of cheese.

“Harzy! Do you know how much that cheese cost?” Logan scolded, his expression somewhat more horrified than Leo would deem reasonable, “Please respect it.”

Leo grabbed his jacket, patting the pocket to ensure his wallet was inside. He rarely used his physical cards anymore, but it gave him far too much anxiety to rely on just his phone. “We’re leaving now. Try not to kill each other while we’re gone. It would be tragic to lose both of my boyfriends in one day,” he said, dropping a kiss first on to Finn’s cheek and then Logan’s.

“Bye Reg,” Finn waved again.

***

“Thank you,” Leo smiled at the cashier as he took his purchases from them. He looked down, noting that between the two of them they had amassed nearly twenty bags. Leo wasn’t usually one to spend money frivolously, but he had found himself swept away by Reg’s enthusiasm. Apparently when he wasn’t being stuffed into tight button ups and tailored pants, Regulus really rather enjoyed fashion. Finn would have been proud of the multiple pairs of trainers they had acquired so far. Still, they probably had enough for today.

Before Leo had a chance to suggest a change of activities, Regulus beat him to it. “Do you want to get some food?” he asked, the grumble of Leo’s stomach answering the question with no need for any words. Regulus laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes. Are you good to get Thai?”

Somehow over the course of filling their stomachs with curry and Pad Thai, an innocent comment about how Regulus would look cute with a piercing resulted in them walking into the nearest studio that had decent reviews. Regulus had changed into one of his new outfits: a loose black and white striped shirt, a pair of black pants cuffed at the legs and chunky white sneakers because his old outfit was deemed unsuitable for getting a piercing in.

Leo had just finished up getting his lip done, pamphlet of aftercare instructions clutched in his hand, and was waiting for Regulus to come out of his room. The boy had refused to tell him what exactly he was going to get done, and the anticipation was killing him. A few minutes later, Regulus pushed out the door to the small room and Leo’s eye was immediately drawn to the light catching Regulus’ eyebrow.

“Oh my God!” Leo exclaimed, wincing as the movement sent a surge of pain through his lip. “You look so good,” he added, moving to inspect the barbell peeking through Regulus’ brow.

“Thanks,” Regulus blushed at the approval. “Yours is cool too. Logan and Finn are going to freak out.”

“They sure are,” Leo chuckled. “Alright, I’ll settle this and then I’ll drop you back home?”

***

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Regulus scowled, reading the instructions on the back of the box of dye for what Leo was sure was the fiftieth time.

“I told you, you haven’t been a teenager unless you have made some questionable fashion choices,” Leo countered. “Except I’m going to look amazing with blue hair so it’s not really questionable.”

“Well, it can’t be worse than this anyway, right?” Regulus grimaced, gesturing to his bleached blond hair.

“Noughties boy band members would be jealous,” Leo laughed.

“It’s a shame it is neither the noughties anymore, nor am I a boy band member,” Regulus replied, shoving the box into Leo’s hands. “Just do it.”

A little over an hour later, Leo was nudging Reg in front of the mirror. “Okay, this was definitely not a mistake! We look amazing. I am taking up a career in hairdressing if I get injured,” Leo declared, holding his hand out for a high five. Whilst Regulus did return it, it was less enthusiastic than Leo had been going for. “You don’t like it?”

“No, I like it,” Regulus shook his head, dragging his fingers along the short sides. The cut wasn’t that different to what it had been before, other than a slightly more dramatic fade. “Just feels weird. My parents would die if they could see me.”

“Well, I think we look badass,” Leo said, running his hand through his own blue hair. He’d left the front long and floppy, deciding to go wild and undercut the back. “Come here, let me take a photo.”

Leo was glad that Regulus had finally learned that while he was not one to throw a tantrum, he did have his ways of getting what he wanted and it was easier for everyone if Regulus just compiled most of the time. The post had barely been up on their Instagram pages for more than 3 minutes when Leo’s phone began to vibrate, Logan’s flashing onto the screen.

“Regulus! Why did my little brother just call to tell me that he wants to dye his hair blue?” Remus yelled up the stairs as Leo picked the call up.

And if drug stores all over the country sold out of blue hair dye the next day? Well, Leo guessed there were worse trends to have started.

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Going, Going, Gone (Spencer Reid x Reader) Chapter 5

Warnings: Mentions of death and injury/much angst

Word Count: 2k

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

-Spencers POV-

His heart stopped. There she was. Right there, if only he could climb through the screen and grab her, shielding her from further harm. He was angry, she looked so small, from what he could make out on the screen you were tied to a bed, bound by chains, blood and wounds scattered in different shapes and sizes over your almost naked body.

Spencer heard a gasp from behind him, turning he noticed JJ staring at the screen seeing exactly what he was. He didn’t have time to deal with peoples feelings, he just needed to figure out where his girl was and quickly. Emily had joined him back at the laptop.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was full of panic and hate. Then her eyes went wide when she heard Rossi’s voice travelling up the attic stairs.

“Spencer, did you find anything yet.” Spence turned to look at the man and then back at the screen, angling his body so it was in front of Rossi’s line of sight. Emily was trying to get him to go back down stairs but he was having none of it, pushing passed her to get to the source of the commotion. Spencer couldn’t bare to listen to the angry cries of his colleague, the angry, broken cries of a father. He was too focused on taking in everything he could, trying to look passed your broken and beaten down, still breathing body, to figure out if there was anything to lead them to you.

Spencer hit a button on his mobile, a direct line to Garcia who was anxiously waiting for anything back at her cyber lab.

“Go boy wonder what have you got for me.” Penelope’s joking voice faltered when Spencer informed her of their findings. He sent the video clip of Y/N over to Penelope to analyse further. Her voice quivering as she promised Spencer she’d be found.

Spencer took a look at the screen again, noticing marks up the algae covered walls. They were water marks, which told you how high the water sometimes flooded inside the building. He let Garcia know so she could narrow her search to a building that would be underground near water and it took her mere seconds to come back with a location.

“It’s an old underground bunker, the Unsubs father was some kind of doomsday preparation nut, it’s next to the Teal River, i’ve sent the exact location to your phones.” The team were out the door in seconds, hoping and praying that this is where they would find you alive. They needed to find you alive.

“Were coming for you sweetheart just hold on, were coming.” In that moment Spencer did something he never did, he prayed.

-Un-Subs POV-

“It’s almost time. Almost time to get rid of the girl. She put up a bigger fight than I thought she would. A few more stab wounds and cuts aught to do the trick, let her die slowly in her cell, die slowly just like my girl did. They will pay, they will all pay.”

-Your POV-

You coughed. You could hear that your breathing was getting worse and it felt like the air was slowly being sucked out of you. You knew you didn’t have long left. You would have liked to cry, feel sorry for yourself, for the fact that you’d never have a future with Spence, never see your father again and never see the team you called family again, but you were too dehydrated and your body couldn’t even function enough to produce a single drop. You slumped against the sticky cold wall, dry blood smeared across your face and in your hair. Your leg was still bleeding but you’d managed to stop it slightly by using some dirty cloth from the mattress you were sitting on. An infected leg was better than bleeding out.

Your eyes closed and you thought about Spencer. How his mind would be working over time trying to piece together the clues and find you before you met your demise. You wanted to believe they would find you in time but your hope was slowly fading away with your consciousness.

You thought about your father and how he’d been in the BAU for so long, founded it with your godfather Gideon, how it was basically his whole life, as well as you. You hoped that when you were gone he’d be able to move on, that he wouldn’t hurt for too long and hopefully one day he’d re-marry, god knows he could use a strong woman in his life after your mum died.

You thought about your friends.. family at the BAU. Your best friend Luke Alvez who treated you more like a little sister, always taking you under his wing and giving you advice even when you didn’t need it. You hoped he’d stay at the BAU, that if you died, it wouldn’t effect him too much and he’d be able to get back to some kind of normal life. You wish there was a way to tell him he could have your baseball card collection, he’d always wanted it. You laughed a little, a sad laugh, already grieving for the people you were going to lose. Thinking about all the things you still wanted to do in life. They say that when you die you life flashes before your eyes, they were wrong. It’s before that, it plays through your head like a movie, going over all the things you’d never get to see.

In your mind you pictured what your wedding day would be like. Spencer would want a small wedding full of close family and friends and you’d agree. The perfect setting your fathers large back garden, flowers everywhere, surrounded by the people you love. The gentle exchanging of rings and the kiss he would give you that would still make your toes curl even when you were old and grey.

Children. You wanted at least 4. You wanted so many children with Spencer because you knew he’d make the most amazing father, even if he’d be scared they’d carry the gene for schizophrenia. They’d have his curly hair and your eye colour, his calmness and his smarts while they had your artistic nature and kindness. They’d love to stay with Grandpa, who would tell them all kinds of stories of his time in the FBI, obviously leaving out the heavy stuff. Your friends would come over and you’d always have big dinners and get togethers, BBQ’s in the summer, your lives full of life and laughter and there would always be him. Right by your side. Your Spencer. You’d grow old together, still love each other as hard as you do now. Until your last breath. You pictured going out like the scene in the notebook, old and in each others arms. The world would always be right, if you had your Spencer Reid.

You could feel your breathing slowing, the sound of heavy footsteps running down the echoing corridor. It was too late. You were sure the Un-sub was coming to finish you off once and for all, leave you somewhere for your family to find, another body in another case the BAU would eventually solve. But it was too late for you. The door swung open and your eyes closed. The pain was gone and so were the chances of seeing your Spence one last time.

-Spencers POV-

The SUV’s came to a screeching halt outside the bunker. There was a gravelled path that lead towards the doors that were hidden behind shrubs. It was one of those lucky by chance things, the team arrived and the Un-sub was outside, about to go into the bunker. While Prentiss and JJ read him his rights and stuck him in the back of the car, Spencer, Rossi and Luke threw open the metal doors and made their way inside cautiously. Spencer wanted to throw all caution to the wind. Guaranteed the two other men he was with wanted to as well. All they wanted to do was get their girl back. But sometimes looks could be deceiving and more danger could be lurking up ahead. In this case, there wasn’t.

Spencer ran down the long echoing corridor, medics behind him. The cells were empty apart from one.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can you hear me? Were here Darling just hold on okay, i’m here baby i’m here.” Spencers voice was full of panic as the three men used all their strength to open the tightly sealed bunker door. Spencer could faintly see through the porthole door, the grime and condensation obstructing his view slightly. You weren’t moving. He started to panic even more and when the door hissed and flung open it was if the world was moving in slow motion.

You were pale, eyes closed, dry blood across your practically naked body. Dirty cloth wrapped around your blood soaked thigh and cuts littered your body in all shapes and sizes. One of your hands was handcuffed to a railing next to the rusty spring covered bed and you looked smaller than you’d ever looked before. Spencer was on you in seconds. Luke had bolt cutters and had snipped the handcuff from the railing. Rossi was frozen in his spot, his daughter lifeless in front of him. Spencer lifted you carefully in his arms laying you on the ground.

“She has no pulse! She’s not breathing! She’s not breathing!” He started pumping your chest, 1,2,3,4…. check, no sign of breathing. He held your nose and blew into your mouth twice, Luke took over chest compressions as the paramedics set up the defibrillator. More Paramedics arrived, pushing the two FbI Agents away so they could work on you more thoroughly. Some tended to your still bleeding cute, needles attached to you for IV bags and then.

“Everyone clear!” The defibrillator sounded up. The shocking noise and the thud your body made against the cold floor seemed to echo all around. They shocked you a total of four times before they managed to get a weak pulse.

The ambulance ride wasn’t long, especially now that you had a police escort and most of the flashing lights in the city. You died and came back 3 times in the ambulance. Spencer hadn’t stopped crying since he found you bleeding and lifeless.

On arrival to the hospital you were instantly taken to surgery, some of the stab wounds too severe to be treated normally. The BAU occupied the waiting room, Rossi sat numbly staring at the floor, Spencer paced back and fourth, Luke kept on asking the Dr for updates every ten minutes and the rest of the team just waited for any news at all.

——————————————————————————————————

-Your POV-

You hadn’t remembered your cell being this bright. Maybe your captor had taken you outside. Maybe you hadn’t died in time to be spared of the cruel torture that was about to follow. What was that dreadful beeping sound? You blinked, your eyes taking their time to adjust to your surroundings. You were defiantly somewhere else and you started to panic, the beeping got louder and faster. You tried to sit up.

“Spencer! Spencer! Wake up she’s awake!” You couldn’t make out the voice clearly, it sounded like… your dad? But how? Were you dreaming. Maybe this was your body in its final stages playing a cruel trick on your subconscious.

You tried to talk, but your throat was dry and you were hit with a wave of pain. Someone pressed ice chips to your lips, slowly but surely you accepted them, the coolness coating your vocal cords.

“Please, please tell m-me this isn’t a d-dream.” A tear leaked from the corner of your eye and rolled down your cheek only to be kissed away by… your Spencer.

“Baby, it’s not a dream, I found you, we found you. You’re safe now and I’m never letting you go again.”

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

Welp, There we go. The final chapter! I hope you liked this mini series! If you like Criminal minds or want me to write for anyone else.. maybe Luke Alvez... let me knowwww i'll consider it ;) Please Reblog/follow/like <3333

Tag List:

@waddles03

@nocturnalherb16

@reidscardigan

[oikaw-ugh]

Just some how the captains (if you’re doing just one then kuroo) react to their s/o over working themselves and like some comfort to it cause their s/o thinks that if they don’t work hard all the time then they aren’t good enough for the things they have in life. (Sorry didn’t that’s deep it’s been iffy over here lol)

KUROO COMFORTING HIS OVERWORKING S/O

Hello, Viv! I totally forgot we once talked about this in chat LMAOOOO I’M SO SORRY :[[[[[[ But anyway, I decided to write for Kuroo mainly because I couldn’t see or envision the other captains (not even Oikawa wtf) so here we are!

Also, I focused this on academics because I think we can all relate to how everyone just wants to do better when it comes to school :(

Also, I made a scenario, and God I hope it is accurate but if it isn’t, I’ll try to make it up to the headcanons :>

Kuroo definitely understands you.

He might present himself as a laid back captain, deep inside, he’s a perfectionist himself.

Though having fun is important, it’s also important for him to win and to become an achiever

So when he sees you getting so worked up for your school works, he doesn’t pry.

Not to mention, he has a very competitive gamer for a best friend.

So believe me, he understands.

He understands how you sometimes neglect your duties as his partner because a couple of papers are due next week.

He does not complain if you suddenly ignore him in the middle of a video call because you got so engrossed with searching articles for your report.

He’s cool with how you cancel plans because academic stuff came up.

“No biggie,” he says.

It’s actually good that you are mindful of your grades. Though he is important as well, he knows for a fact that he shouldn’t compete with your academics.

He doesn’t show but he’s very proud of you.

You never notice but there’s the admiration in his face whenever you looked intently at your laptop or computer screen as you create a report.

His jaw drops if he catches you practicing a report or something,

Or when you’re making a project for like, art or science or stuff.

“You did this?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

So believe me when I say Kuroo is very, VERY PROUD of you.

And he wishes you see how amazing of a person you are, too.

Especially when you’re doubting yourself.

I don’t see a lot of intervening from Kuroo.

Like, I see him just being silent, trying not to disturb you as much as he can.

Like, he can do his own business at the same time, too.

And when he sees you’re getting absorbed too much

Like, it’s-12-AM-and-you-haven’t-eaten-your-dinner-yet-too much or it’s-been-6-or-so-hours-since-you-sat-at-your-seat-and-you-haven’t-moved-since-too much, he intervenes.

“I think that’s enough paperwork for the day.”

And like, when you whine or complain, he shuts you up with a hug or a tease, somewhere between the two.

“But I miss you,” he’d joke while pulling you away from your work to do something relaxing or simply grab something to eat.

“I flunked my tests.”

Kuroo slowly puts his bag down as you dropped him the news. His eyes traveled all over your face. You’re disappointed, he knows. It’s clear with the furrowing of your brows, with the straining of your eyes, and the disgusted frown on your lips.

Kuroo reached for your hand, carefully playing with your fingers.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he coo, “I’m sure you can do better next time-”

“Yes, I must,” and this made you crack. The tears you’ve been training ever since you received your papers from your professors earlier, “I can’t afford to fail the next period again...”

“Hey-” you cut him off.

“If...If I don’t, I’d get a failing mark. My parents will be so disappointed in me,” you looked up, recounting the reasons why you must have good grades, “Mom is going to be disappointed. So will my favorite teachers. If I fail, I wouldn’t be able to get into a good university-”

“Hey, hey, don’t say that...” Kuroo interjects but they were pointless with your closed ears.

“Everyone’s going to hate me for failing. Everyone is going to be disappointed, I’m sure-”

“Hey.”

You stopped talking when you heard Kuroo. He said it with a louder and clearer voice. Stern. Stern enough to make you pause from talking. You look up to him and you see his angry face.

Why is he mad?

“Are you disappointed?” you asked Kuroo, “Because you have a failure for a lover?”

Kuroo pauses, his gaze softening with your broken question. He hates how hesitant your eyes are as you look at him. He washed his face with his palm. He said the wrong words.

“No...No, I’m not,” Kuroo said calmly before he pulled you gently by your arm, guiding you towards his chest. Your ears listen to his gentle heartbeat which helped you calm down away.

“I am proud of you,” Kuroo whispered before wrapping your head with his hand, “I am so, so proud of you,” he added.

For an unknown reason, this made you tear up, “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” Kuroo objected.

“You’re just saying that because I am dating you...” you said bitterly.

You feel Kuroo’s head shake, “That’s not true. I am so proud of you. Not just as my lover, but as a person. You are more than what you think you are. If only I can let you see how I see you, you’d see how amazing and strong you are as a person and it pains me to see how little do you think of yourself when you’re anything but that.”

This made you cry harder. Defeated by Kuroo’s sincere words, you buried your face onto his chest, embarrassed to let him see how weak you are at your current state in which Kuroo completely understands. He does not pull you away in attempts to wiping the tear from your face. Instead, he lets you cry as he remembers the days and nights you’ve dedicated to this particular test. You deserve a break, his mind spoke and so, who is he to get on your way? He hugged you tighter.

[peppersonironi]

Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype Chapter Three

Wooo! Chapter Two (not including the prologue) is up now for my @dukethomasbigbang fic! Today's art is by @a-sketchy-character and you can find the glorious piece HERE

thx again to my betas @queerbutstillhere & @theycallme-ook

Today has a special thanks to @batgirls-appreciation who dropped out as a beta, but this chapter couldn't exist without her!

Summary:

Duke pursed his lips, not quite sure why Cass had come down to the basement, only to look into his soul, shrug, and leave. But that didn’t matter right now. As Bruce would say, “The mission comes first.”

Read on Ao3

Duke frowned down at his empty pad of paper, trying to brainstorm. It had been a mere twelve hours since the failed Rick Roll (though, the Rick Roll itself wasn’t a fail. Duke would be daydreaming about the chaos for years to come), and the day shift bat was itching for a way to make up for it.

Alas, the creative juices were not flowing that day. Duke had tried everything - taking a walk, training, meditation, writer’s sprint, and even resorting to watching prank compilations on YouTube. But nothing worked. So, he found himself watching the target Bat - Bruce - in his “natural habitat.”

Also known as the living room, mid lecture.

“But I don’t know what I did!” Tim pleaded desperately, trying to convey to Bruce his confusion.

Bruce shook his head. “No, you do, Tim. Dick told me you all will appeal to my affection to get out of the consequences for your actions -” wow, Duke remembered Dick using that exact tactic just yesterday, and it worked - “So I will not allow you to shirk the punishment.”

Tim groaned. “This is tyranny! I’m an emancipated minor, I don’t need to deal with this.”

“Actually, yes you do. You will be doing chores for Alfred for the next two weeks, and you aren’t allowed to run off to Mount Justice.”

“Then at least tell me what I did wrong!” Tim cried, throwing his hands up in the air. Bruce rubbed his temples, then glanced briefly at Duke.

“You know what you did, and how it affected those around you. And you’re grounded because of it. No room for arguments. Now go work on the sprinklers, Alfred has mentioned they’ve been finicky.”

Tim scoffed and stalked out, soon after followed by Bruce.

Duke considered relocating as well - he couldn’t very well observe Bruce if said wild furry wasn’t present. But something about that conversation that sent a light shiver up Duke’s spine, some small spark of inspiration.

An idea began to form in his mind, and Duke smiled slowly.

*****

“For all Bruce’s waxing poetic on the merits of high tech stuff, this pipe organization is seriously ancient,” Duke muttered under his breath as he glanced from the blueprints he had secured to the mess of pipes and spigots and nozzles in front of him.

Though to be fair, this wasn’t the Batcave. Duke was in the basement of Wayne Manor - yes, he was just as surprised to find they actually had one of those that wasn’t dedicated to the dark and mystique training of Gotham’s Protectors. And impromptu Mario Kart challenges, because as Tim had once told Duke “We all know that’s the real reason Bruce got a giant computer setup.”

Duke cursed softly under his breath when he dropped a wrench that began to clang around in the messy cage of metal. He set the blueprints aside atop the gallons of paint he had chosen, and reached around and down to get the wrench. When he came back up, he found himself face to face with his sister Cassandra.

Oh shit, Duke thought, as he tried to figure out how to cover for what he was doing in the plumbing of the Manor.

Cass squinted at him and, not for the first time, Duke felt like he was an onion trapped beneath her gaze, slowly being peeled back layer by layer till the young woman before him knew every little detail about him. Every thought or plan he ever had.

Duke began to sweat, unable to keep his panic under wraps. Cass was scarier than Bruce, that was just a fact.

Cass tilted her head a fraction of an inch, and Duke thought he was a dead man. But, much to his relief and confusion, Cass shrugged and turned. She walked lightheartedly out of the basement and to the stairs, whistling tunelessly as she went.

Duke pursed his lips, not quite sure why Cass had come down to the basement, only to look into his soul, shrug, and leave.

But that didn’t matter right now. As Bruce would say, “The mission comes first.”

*****

As all members of the Wayne family knew, the Library was one of the best places, period. Aside from the living room which was always a mess of pillows, bean bags, inflatable dinosaurs, spare semi-automatic weaponry and knives, the Library was the most personal room in the expansive home that was the Manor. Sure, it was cleaner and home to fewer surprise nerf gun fights, but It still had an air of warmth about it. It was the place that they would go to to rest after a difficult patrol. Where you could find Jason reading some book in a corner, Tim busy with WE work at the large table, Damian trying to teach Alfred the Cat and Titus to read picture books, Cass and Steph trying to be subtle about making out (though to be fair that was only half the time, other times Cass was working on reading with Steph helpfully giving her guidance). Dick would always be trying to decide what to read and but he would never actually succeed, Bruce would sit in his tall armchair in the corner overlooking every small detail of his children with a not-quick-smile-but-pretty-darn-close on his face.

Duke himself also had his own spot that he would work on writing poetry, or just surf Tumblr. It was a window seat at the far side of the library which was technically big enough for three people, but Duke had a strict policy that it was his and his alone and no he totally wasn’t bullied by Cass that one time to snuggle. Why on Earth would you ever consider such a thing?

It was in this spot now that Duke was situated, though he was not alone. Titus - yes, Damian’s dog - was draped across his lap. Now, Duke didn’t mean to steal his little brother’s pets, but it just happened. Titus was in need of snuggles or belly rubs when Damian was away with Jon or on patrol at night, and Duke just happened to be the only one that said canine could bully into granting him.

Thankfully, like all bats were, Duke was a multi-tasker. He wasn’t put off by having to scratch a dog behind the ears whilst simultaneously checking the twelve blinking dots on his laptop screen that represented his family members.

Duke stared intensely at the diagram of the Manor as all the dots slowed down and finally stayed in their predetermined positions. Huh, Tim was right. Stalking family members did pay off!

The dots suddenly stopped blinking, and Duke snapped out of his self congratulations. It was go time . He switched windows, then quickly pulled out his phone and pressed a button.

There were several screams that echoed throughout the ancient halls, those screams spoke of terror and surprise, and passed along the message that something was very, very wrong in the world. The status quo had been broken, and there was no returning from this.

Duke smirked down at his computer, where a dozen different squares displayed camera footage of the real time happenings of the Manor. Said footage was showing several members of Duke’s family drenched in paint. The same paint that Duke had meticulously divided and poured into the ceiling sprinkling system that the Manor had for some totally-not-plot-related reason. The same paint which had been primed and ready to be sprayed out of the spigots coating each bat with the perfectly calculated, even layer.

The paint had just finished being deployed, and yet several people were for some reason trying to fight it off like it was an attacker. Duke noticed that the swinging of bo staffs, AK-47’s and katanas were altogether unsuccessful. Honestly, the people who were standing completely still in shock, or who were trying to shake off the paint were having much better luck.

But then everyone finally realised that they weren’t being sprayed anymore, and a collective sigh spread out across the Manor. The onslaught was done, and they could finally gather together and grab the pitchforks to hunt down the responsible party.

It was then that the glitter was deployed.

The chaos immediately multiplied tenfold, and the screams sounded up again. The air was filled with the sparkly dust that was way too thin to swat away. (No, Duke totally didn’t spend extra time researching to find the world’s finest glitter)

Duke was outright laughing at this point, so hard that he almost fell off the window seat. Titus barked suddenly, and Duke sobered enough to get back upright and watch the finishing up of the chaos. He had to admit, this felt wonderful. If he had to describe his current state of thrill in two words, he would have admitted that he felt altogether too close to the Hellmo Meme.

Unfortunately, Duke was not Stephanie, and ran out of glitter eventually. The vents stopped blasting the film of fairy dust, and the bats were given a reprieve.

Though the break was short lived, as just then, Bruce’s loud bellow sounded throughout the giant house.

“ALL OF YOU GET IN HERE!”

Duke chuckled as he scooched Titus over and set his laptop to the side so he could get up. This was all working perfectly! He’d arrive at Bruce's interrogation completely free from all paint or glitter, which would immediately prove his guilt. And if that didn’t work, then he supposed he could outright confess. But that wasn’t the point of this. The point was for Bruce to come to the conclusion on his own.

He walked down the hall, completely carefree. So happy and confident in his own abilities that he never even noticed that Cassandra’s paint or glitter didn’t go off. That she wasn’t even present where the tracker he had subtly placed on her earlier that day said she was.

*****

Duke hummed to himself as he skipped along the carpet, past the antique vases and random finger paintings, past the drawing rooms and bathrooms, and towards Bruce. All was quiet.

Though that began to trouble Duke, as he got closer to one of the rooms which was very special. It was where Cass had been situated, playing with Selina’s cat Isis, for the past hour. Now, Cassandra was quiet, sure. But not that quiet. And besides, wouldn’t the cat be screeching right about now? Cass didn’t seem like the person to give a nerve hit to an animal just because it was being loud ( cough Jason cough ).

He slowly entered the room and looked around, but was surprised to find it completely empty. Not just of girl and cat, but of paint and glitter too.

“You were mistaken.”

Duke whirled around to find Cass sitting in an armchair, wrapped in shadows, and stroking Isis in a manner not altogether different from that of an Evil Mastermind™.

“Uh…” Duke replied, “about what?”

Cass smirked, and Duke felt a shiver run up his spine. “Actions have consequences. ”

Duke frowned. Wait, what? He glanced around again, trying to figure out what Cass meant. On a surface level he understood, but there was something about the way Cass was eyeing him that told him something else was up.

The only thing he could find that was out of the ordinary, however, was the camera he had placed just yesterday. Huh, now that he thought about it, he was at just the right angle to see it. Which meant he was in direct view of the camera itself. Pretty darn to close to where he had been planning Cass would stand, actually.

Then a faint spitting noise came from above him.

Oh.

*****

Duke trudged forlornly into the room where the rest of the bats - except Cassandra, who had disappeared after the glitter had deployed onto Duke - had gathered. He was one of the last to arrive, muttering curses under his breath, so all eyes were on him as he opened the door and joined them.

Though that also meant that Duke could see them. He had to admit, that as disappointed as he was, it was still hard to keep a grin from spreading across his face. Boy, he had done a great job with color coordination, hadn’t he?

Bruce was front and center, covered in a dark gray paint which had the sheen of yellow glitter. Dick had black paint completely covering him (much more than Duke planned. Did Dick roll in the stuff?) along with blue glitter. Jason had both red paint and glitter on him. Tim had started off with a lighter colored paint - this time red - and then the look was finished by black glitter. Damian looked like a small Christmas tree in his green paint and red glitter. Harper had blue paint then covered in purple glitter, both of which were the exact shades of her hair. Duke wasn’t a monster ; he knew how to match colors.

The cousins - both honorary and actually - had also been present. Bette had been appropriately targeted with a flaming orange and gold combination. Kate had black paint and, instead of red, Duke had picked a rainbow glitter for her. From the slight glint in her eye, Duke supposed he had chosen correctly. Jean-Paul had been doused in yellow paint and red glitter, and he honestly looked like a very large and human shaped version of his sword. Luke was covered in silver paint and an electric blue glitter.

Bruce, however, didn’t give Duke a second glance, covered in yellow paint and black glitter (which had been meant for Cass, but honestly, it fit Duke quite well), though he was.

“Good, now we just have to wait for Steph,” Tim remarked, rolling his eyes.

Duke frowned. “What about Cass? She’s here too.”

Everyone gave Duke a weird look. “Uh, no she isn’t. She’s been hanging out with Selina and Babs all weekend.”

“Then your intel is wrong,” Duke countered. “She was just here! I planned on her being here!”

The silence in the room was palpable. Before, where there had been bickering and accusations, the quiet had taken over. Everyone stared at Duke with suspicion in their eyes.

Finally, Duke thought, sighing in relief.

Bruce opened his mouth about to question Duke’s statement when the doors to the room banged open.

“What’s up, Bitches? The Waffle Queen has arrived and looks as fabulous as ever!”

Duke stared, completely amazed that she actually seemed to like the purple on purple combo Duke had picked for her. Oh, yeah, now that he thought about it made perfect sense that Steph was the only one to like this.

“Wow, whoever did this really got my colors right!" Steph continued as she waltzed in and posed in front of everyone, her hip cocked and arm thrown up dramatically.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, and he began to growl at her. “This is not funny.”

Steph pouted. “What do you mean? I sure think it is!”

Oh boy, she didn’t notice she was digging her own grave, did she? From the looks of the other bats, they shared Duke’s sentiment.

“Stephanie Brown, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Stephanie smirked. “Yup! I look way better than you, you old fur- hey wait! Are you blaming me ?!”

Bruce glared even harder, and Stephanie started to protest, claiming that she was but an innocent victim of these pain-filled proceedings! It was not her fault! Nor was it her fault that she happened to get colors that she liked better than everyone else.

Bruce refused to hear what she said, and told her to go get changed. “You will be cleaning up this whole mess, and no patrolling until it’s done.”

Bruce turned and stalked out, and Steph was left speechless - for once - in the hall. She backed away, seeing the angry stares from the others. The only one who didn’t seem mad at her, was Duke himself. He opened his eyes wide, conveying pity. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed silently.

Instead of being reassuring, however, Steph squinted in suspicion. Oh shit, that probably hadn’t been the best move.

Just moments after Steph left, Jason threw up his hands. “Okay, who wants to have a water gun fight to clean off?”

There were several cheers of assent, but Duke quickly made his own escape at that time. He honestly wasn’t in the mood to get splashed in the face with water. Now was not the time for fun, as the failed prank still hung over him.

Now was the time for plotting.

*****

“Okay, but why on earth do you have a fully functioning sprinkler system in every room?”

“Yeah, Bruce, even for you that’s paranoid! What caused you to think that was necessary?”

“You.”

[madasthesea]

Love, hate on

By @madasthesea for @the-dust-of-stars

Part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: G

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Original Female Villain, Original Male Villains

Summary: She’d planned for this moment for two years, seven months, and eighteen days: As she’d stood above her daughter’s freshly dug grave, she’d decided that Tony Stark would die by her hand. And now was her moment.

She had only intended to grab Stark, tell him what he’d done that merited the punishment she was going to give, and kill him fast before anyone started looking. But here was this kid, an act of providence.

She didn’t have to tell Stark now, she could show him. She could make him suffer like she’d suffered, make him pay for his crimes. An eye for an eye, a child for a child.

Mara Shepherd crouched silently in the back of a gray van, eyes fixed on the surveillance footage playing on the little laptop screen in front of her. Any minute now, Tony Stark would be walking past her van.

She’d planned for this moment for two years, seven months, and eighteen days: As she’d stood above her daughter’s freshly dug grave, she��d decided that Tony Stark would die by her hand. And now was her moment.

He appeared on screen, his goatee making him instantly recognizable even on the pixelated screen.

“Go,” she barked to Elliot and Greg, the two henchmen she’d coerced into helping her. People who hated Tony Stark were in no short supply.

The van doors snapped open and the two men leaped out, one with a black bag at the ready, the other with a baseball bat. Mara stayed in the van and watched.

Stark jumped into action immediately, throwing a right hook at Greg’s face that caught him square on the jaw.

“Hey!” A young voice shouted, and Mara looked up to see a teenage boy only a few paces behind Stark. He, too, darted forward, his fists balled as if he was ready to fight.

“No, kid,” Stark gasped, trying to shake off Elliot’s grasp on his arms. Greg came back into the fray, his baseball bat prepped. “Look out,” Stark yelled, his voice strained as Greg swung at the unsuspecting teen, who was trying to pry Elliot off of Tony.

The kid managed to duck the first swing, whirling with wide eyes to see his attacker, but he wasn’t ready for Elliot to drop Stark like a sack of potatoes, grab the kid by the back of the shirt, and throw him into the side of van. He connected head first and slid to the ground, blinking dizzily.

“Mr. Stark,” the boy said, trying to stand up.

“Just bring the kid,” Mara snapped, very aware that someone might come around the corner any second.

Elliot grabbed the bat from Greg’s hand, swung, and connected. The kid went limp in the gutter.

“No!” Stark shouted, his voice hoarse. Greg took the opportunity to punch Tony in the temple, making him crumple to the pavement. The bag went over his head, the men collected their prizes, and they were back in the van, hurtling away from the scene.

Mara had bought the storage unit ten months ago. The company had since gone out of business, but she’d made copies of the key, came back regularly to make sure she could still access it. It was the perfect place for an execution.

She had Greg and Elliot set the two up in chairs facing each other, tightly bound with zipties. Then they all sat back and waited.

She didn’t know what to do about the kid. As far as she knew, he was just a passerby who’d recognized Iron Man and wanted to be his hero’s hero. Not necessarily a condemnation, but now that he was here, a witness to her crime, she couldn’t just let him go. It was a complication, and she spent the quiet minutes puzzling out what to do to fix it.

Stark started coming around first, squinting at the three of them in the bad fluorescent lighting, and cursing emphatically. Then he saw the teenager sitting across from him and his expression fell into something serious and angry.

The kid groaned only a couple seconds later and Mara watched as Stark’s attention immediately snapped toward him.

“Hey, kid. Kid.” The boy looked up, blinking blearily and seemed to struggle to locate Stark. Maybe Elliot had been a little more aggressive than she’d thought. When he did, they stared at each other for a long minute, as if having a silent conversation.

“You ok?” Stark finally asked.

“Um, I guess. What—what’s going on?”

“Just some people without any manners wanted a chat with me. But we’ll be on our way to lunch any minute, don’t worry, kid.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Mara purred. Stark glanced at her, sizing her up quickly, just like he’d done with Elliot and Greg. “Cute kid, Stark. Is he yours?”

Stark rolled his eyes. “No. Some new intern. Great first day on the job, huh, bud?”

The kid gave a nervous laugh, craning his head to look at Elliot in the shadows.

“N-not quite what I expected for an orientation, Mr. Stark.” The boy closed his eyes as if in pain and Mara wondered again how hard Elliot had hit him. Stark seemed to notice as well.

She stepped back, watching as Tony eyed the kid up and down. His lips were pursed, his eyes dark. Perhaps it was merely impersonal concern—he was a supposed hero, and protecting innocent children was in the job description, even if he was a failure most of the time. But there was something familiar in it, an ingrained worry that was routine, habitual. She was a parent, too, she knew what to look for.

Stark may say he’d only met the kid today, but he was nothing if not a liar. She knew better than to believe him.

She had only intended to grab Stark, tell him what he’d done that merited the punishment she was going to give, and kill him fast before anyone started looking. But here was this kid, an act of providence.

She didn’t have to tell Stark now, she could show him. She could make him suffer like she’d suffered, make him pay for his crimes. This wasn’t a complication, it was an opportunity.

Mara smirked, and sauntered towards the kid.

“Well, look at you,” she purred, reaching out and caressing the boy’s face before tilting his jaw up. Stark watched, emotionless.

The boy looked up at her, brown puppy dog eyes on full display. She could feel his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously.

“What’s your name?” she asked gently.

The boy’s eyes darted toward Stark, then back. He shook his head minutely.

“No?” Mara asked, rounding the chair so she was behind the kid. She smiled at Stark, then grabbed a fistful of dark curls and yanked the boy’s head backward. A muscle in Stark’s jaw jumped. “How about now?”

“N—”

She cut the kid off. “Not asking you, sweetie. Tell me, Stark. What’s his name?”

Tony exhaled in a rush. “I don’t remember.”

Mara slapped the boy across the face. The smack echoed for a moment of shock before Stark strained against his bonds, a barely contained snarl of rage turning his mouth for a heartbeat before he schooled himself.

“Don’t make me hit him again,” she warned softly. “Just tell me his name.”

“I barely even know him,” Tony snapped, rolling his eyes.

Mara ground her teeth, quickly losing her patience. As if she couldn’t tell, as if the love Stark had for this boy wasn’t written in every line on his face.

The kid glared at her as she turned to him, sighing heavily. She backhanded him and his head snapped to the side, a red mark already forming on his pale face. When he turned back to her, his eyes were burning with anger. She stared back for a moment, memorizing the color of his irises. It was a pity he had to die; he really was a cute kid.

She turned back to Stark. “His name,” she said coolly.

“I don’t—”

“Stop lying!” Mara screamed, her hands clenched in fists at her side. She wanted to tear him apart, she wanted to see him bleed, but she knew his type. Physical pain meant nothing to him, to his pride. He would never break for his own sake. And now that the possibility has presented itself, she didn’t just want to see him dead. She wanted to see him broken.

She stepped forward until she towered over Stark, until she can lean forward and grab his face in her hand, her nails digging into his jaw.

“You think I can’t see the fear in your eyes, Stark? I’ve felt that fear. I’ve lived it. And it was your fault.”

She took a shuttering breath. Tony looked up at her, a terrible understanding in his eyes.

“And guess what,” she whispered, bending low and tightening her hold on him. “Losing him will be worse than you ever imagined.”

Tony thrashed against her hold, a snarl caught in his throat.

“Ah, ah, ah.” She stepped aside, just enough to let Stark see Elliot pulling a knife on the kid.

Tony stilled instantly, uncaring of the bruising grip Mara still had on his face. She yanked his face back around to her, but he still glanced back to the kid every second.

“Now tell me what his name is and I might make it quick,” she said.  

Stark’s glare was so icy, Mara nearly shivered. She covered it up by stepping away, back toward the kid. She cast a glance at Elliot and he lowered the knife to the boy’s throat.

“Well?”

Tony hesitated for another half-second, then his shoulders slumped. “Peter,” he finally murmured.

Peter watched Tony, waited until the man looked up, and gave him a reassuring smile that reflected, distorted, off the knife under his chin.

Tony just looked heartbroken.

Mara took a deep breath and forced the memory of her daughter’s smile from her mind.

“Peter,” she repeated, nodding. Peter looked up at her, defiant. She circled his chair slowly and he turned his head to keep her in his sight as much as possible.

“Do you want to know what my daughter’s name was, Peter?”

“Yes.”

“Eliza,” Mara sighed, closing her eyes as she savored the name. “My little ‘Liza. She was seven when she died.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it, and she regretted again that the only way to get through to Stark was to kill his kid.

“Do you know what happened to her?”

Peter shook his head.

“He happened.” She let all of the anger and hatred she’d felt in the last two and a half years come to the surface, let it burn behind her eyes as she turned to the man that had cost her everything.

“Do you remember August 9, 2015, Stark?”

Tony looked up at her, thinking for a moment.

“There was a break-in. At the tower,” Tony finally said. “We caught them before they could take anything. They shot their way out. Four injuries, two deaths.”

The way he rattled the information off like they were statistics, like those weren’t real people made Mara’s blood boil.

“Yes,” Mara snarled. “My daughter and I were in Midtown that day. Running errands. She wanted to see Avengers Tower, to see where her heroes lived. And then she got shot and in the panic someone knocked me over. By the time I got to her she was already gone.” Her voice broke.

Stark’s expression was pinched.

“I remember,” he whispered. “I offered to pay for the funeral and you refused.”

“I don’t want your money,” Mara yelled. “I needed your help! You were there and you didn’t help!”

“I was trying to stop them from hurting anyone else. I didn’t notice in time. I’m sorry.”

“Save your useless apology, Stark. It’s two and a half years too late.”    

“Then why am I here?” Tony asked, his voice resigned, like he knew that she wanted him dead. But she wanted more than that, too, and that hadn’t occurred to him yet.

“You are here,” she hissed, “to watch.”

His face fell, his eyes flicking to Peter. His heart started beating so hard she could see his pulse in his throat.

“No.”

Peter’s eyes went wide at the guttural denial that ripped out of Tony’s throat. He looked at Mara and she watched the comprehension dawn on his face as well.

“Oh,” he mouthed, his face very pale.

“No, please,” Stark begged, straining against his bonds. “Please, he has nothing to do with that, we hadn’t even met yet, he—”

“You love him,” Mara interrupted. “That’s all that matters.”

“Please, just kill me,” Tony whispered, looking up at her with a desperation on his face that she knew only too well.

“Oh, I’ll get to that,” she assured him. “You think I’m not going to kill the man that killed my baby girl? But first you have to feel it, Stark. The grief. The agony. You have to know what it feels like to watch your child bleed out in front of you.”

“Ma’am,” Peter said quietly. She turned to look at him. “I’m so sorry about your daughter. But... but that wasn’t Mr. Stark’s fault. He would never let anyone die if he could help them.”

“He’s a weapons developer,” Mara scoffed.

“He isn’t anymore,” Peter argued, shaking his head. “Besides, revenge won’t make you feel better. And it won’t bring Eliza back.”

Sighing, Mara leaned over him. She reached out to brush his bangs off his forehead, but he pulled away, looking affronted.

“My daughter deserves vengeance,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I do,” Peter insisted, looking up at her pleadingly. “My uncle was killed in front of me. And I had the chance to go after his killer, but I didn’t. You can choose not to, too. Right now. You haven’t hurt anyone yet.”

Mara shook her head. “It’s not the same. I am sorry he brought you into this.”

“You brought me into this,” Peter snapped, any forgiveness gone from his features. Mara hummed, then turned back to Tony, who’d watched the exchange in silent panic.

“I’m not a complete monster,” she told him. “Elliot is a very good shot. It will be painless for him.”

Tony made a choked noise, clenching his hands around the armrest of the chair. His eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“I’ll even give you what I never had, Stark. I’ll give you time to say goodbye.”

Mara nodded to Elliot and Greg where they were lurking in the corner and they each stepped forward to undo the bindings holding Peter and Stark in place. The second they were loose, they both instantly spilled forward onto their knees.

Peter crashed into Tony, tucking himself under Tony’s chin and clutching at his t-shirt. Tony responded in kind, putting a hand on the back of Peter’s head and holding him close, his hand threading carefully through the boy’s dark curls, avoiding where the bat had connected earlier.  

The safety of a gun clicking off made them both look up—Tony’s arms tightened protectively around Peter, his expression fierce as he saw the gun Elliot was now pointing at Peter’s head.

“Just in case you get any ideas of trying something,” Mara said simply. She knew better than to underestimate Tony Stark.

Tony glared at her for a second, then ducked his head, his attention focused solely on the child in his arms again.

“Peter,” she heard him murmur, his voice low. She listened closely as words poured out of him, quick and desperate. “Pete, I don’t know what to do, I don’t—I’ve got nothing, kid, I—”

Peter cut him off, but his voice was so low and muffled by Tony’s shoulder that Mara couldn’t hear. She watched Tony’s face as he buried his face in Peter’s hair, his expression pinched in a pain that she knew intimately. The pain of losing a child was something you never recovered from. Not that Stark would live long enough to realize that.

They continued talking for a moment, the words lost to Mara. Peter nodded almost frantically as Tony whispered to him, his hand still cradling Peter’s head.

“Time’s up, Stark,” she finally snapped, her chest aching with want as she thought about hugging her daughter.

“No. No, no,” Tony gasped, capturing Peter’s face in his hands as Elliot and Greg stepped forward. He pressed their foreheads together, crowding impossibly closer to the boy.

“It’ll be ok,” Peter whispered. He wrapped his hands around Tony’s wrists.

Mara’s heart beat faster, her blood racing hot through her veins. She was so close. At her word, Tony Stark would watch the child he loved die, just like she had. Her Liza had been feet from her as she took her last breath. She’d watched the light fade from her daughters eyes just as she’d watched those eyes open for the first time.

And Stark had been there, mere yards away, and had done nothing. And now she would stand and do nothing as his boy bled out in front of him, even if the loss of his life pained her. An eye for an eye, a child for a child. There was no other way.

Elliot seized Peter’s collar while Greg wrapped an arm around Stark’s throat, effectively holding him still.

“No!” Stark screamed, clawing at Greg. “Don’t touch him!”

Elliot dragged Peter a few feet away, kicking the boy’s legs out from under him when he tried to struggle to his feet.

“Hey!” Tony snarled as Peter growled, still fighting against Elliot’s hold. Elliot used the handle of the gun to hit the back of Peter’s head, making him collapse, crying out in pain. “Stop!”

“Elliot,” Mara said. The man dutifully wrangled the kid onto his knees, facing Stark. He held his gun to the back of Peter’s head.

Tony was practically hyperventilating. “Oh, go—Please,” he panted. “Please, no. Please just kill me. Please, please, I’m sorry.” Tears dripped down his cheeks as he watched, helpless.

Elliot pulled the hammer of the gun back, the click of it echoing oddly loudly in the concrete room.

“Tony,” Peter said. Tony’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at the kid, agony written all over his features.

Against all of Mara’s expectations, Peter smiled, his eyes bright. His voice was steady when he spoke. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Peter,” Tony breathed. Elliot put his finger on the trigger.

And then Peter was moving, faster than Mara had ever seen anyone move. He threw himself backward, throwing one hand up and shoving the gun toward the ceiling in the same motion. The crack of it firing was deafening and Mara cried out as a chunk of concrete fell toward the floor from where the bullet hit.  

A heartbeat later, Tony was throwing Greg over his shoulder, twisting his arm behind his back until it was ready to snap.

Peter spun to his feet in a flash and threw a single punch at Elliot, catching him on the jaw. The man fell to the floor and didn’t move.

Mara backed up to the wall, heart pounding. She hadn’t realized... Stark hadn’t been in his suit, and he was older, but she’d taken precautions. She’d been so careful.  She’d known better than to underestimate him, but it hadn’t even crossed her mind that the kid, who was small and thin and fragile, could ever pose a threat to her plans.

Tony quickly frisked Greg, found his gun, and pistol-whipped him. He, too, went limp, instantly unconscious. Then he turned toward her, the gun still in his hand.

“Tony, you ok?” Peter panted, rolling Elliot over and checking his pulse.

“Will be in a minute, kid,” Tony said, his voice low. Peter looked up and watched him stalk forward, his eyes going wide.

“Tony.”

Tony raised the muzzle to directly between Mara’s eyes.

“You said you’d kill the person that killed your kid,” Tony hissed. “What makes you think I won’t do the same?”

Mara swallowed, her eyes flicking between the barrel of the gun and Stark’s face. His expression was totally blank, but his eyes were lit with a furious fire that sent shivers up her spine.

“I-I,” she stammered, unsure how to tell Stark that she had been relying on his grief to incapacitate him. She’d been assuming that he wouldn’t care about dying when his kid was a corpse in front of him.

And, if she’s honest with herself, she’d been relying on his sense of honor. She’d known that even with her planning and contingencies, there was no way she could guarantee she would succeed. The risk had been worth it, but if something had gone wrong, she had assumed that he would never willingly kill someone, that he would never hold a gun to someone’s head out of anger. She didn’t know how to say that despite thinking he was a villain, she’d expected him to act like a hero.

“You held a gun to a sixteen-year-old’s head and told yourself you were giving your daughter justice. But if you had succeeded, all you would have done was kill an innocent child.”

“And what about you?” she snapped back. “What are you doing right now?”

“You’re not a child,” Tony said coolly, his finger on the trigger. “And you’re certainly not innocent.”

Mara sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, and prepared to see her daughter again.

“Mr. Stark.”

Her eyes snapped open to see not the cold barrel of a gun, but Peter’s back.

“Come on,” Peter said softly.

Mara risked leaning just far enough to see Tony’s face soften, his eyes lose their fire.

Tony’s mouth quirked up in a half-hearted, crooked smile. He quickly lowered the gun, showing Peter the side of it.

“Safety’s still on, kid.”

Peter’s shoulders loosened. “Oh.”

“Come here, Pete.” Tony bent and dropped the gun on the ground at his feet, then kicked it away, almost like a peace offering to Peter. As soon as the gun was a few feet away, Peter dove forward and was engulfed in a tight hug. Mara slid to the floor, legs numb from adrenaline.

“You did great, buddy,” Tony muttered, keeping an eye on Mara as he ran a hand over Peter’s back as if to check for injuries. “No extra points for the dramatic flair, though.”

“You’re one to talk,” Peter scoffed. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you crying.”

Tony sniffed, squeezing the back of Peter’s neck as he pulled back. “Yeah, well. I’m never going to get the picture of you with a gun to your head out of my mind. Like I needed more nightmare fuel.”

Mara couldn’t see Peter’s face, but his voice was bashful. “Sorry.”

Tony pushed the bangs back from Peter’s forehead in a display of gentility she’d never expected him to possess.

She couldn’t stand it.

“No!” She screamed. They both jumped like they’d almost forgotten she was there. “No!” Tears burned in her eyes and spilled over. “You were supposed to die! You were supposed to understand what you did to me. My baby is gone. You needed to lose yours.”

Tony scowled down at her.  

“I didn’t kill your daughter,” he said. Then he glanced at Peter and his face softened. “But I understand wanting to do anything to bring justice for your child. I am sorry.”

Mara spat at him. Peter looked indignant, but Tony just sighed, pulling him away and using Elliot’s phone to call 911. Feeling as if she’d lost her Eliza all over again, Mara just curled in the corner and wept while they waited for the police to come and arrest her.

Peter and Tony watched her be put into the police car, her hands cuffed. As the car drove away, she saw Stark pull Peter into his side and kiss his temple, his eyes closed as he held the boy close.

She’d known from the second she’d seen them together that Peter was more than the intern Tony pretended he was. It was obvious in the way they looked at each other, protected each other. She’d seen, and others would too. Tony Stark might still get the punishment he deserved. Even if she wasn’t the one giving it.

[440mxs-wife]

The Great Debate

Pairing: Sam x Reader. Other Characters: Dean, Sheriff, Deputy Frank Walters (OMC’s)

Word Count: 6080+

Warnings: mild show-level violence

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you kidding me, Sam?" you exclaimed. "There's no question in my mind who would win that fight," you grumbled.

Sam rolled his eyes from the front seat of the Impala. He turned around to face you sitting in the back seat. "Okay, Miss Smarty Pants, who do YOU think would win that fight?" he demanded.

You let out an exasperated sigh before answering. "First of all, I don't think, Sam, I already know. Lieutenant Worf from Starfleet would definitely win in a fight against Chewbacca!" you retorted.

Sam snorted. "No way! Chewie has the brute strength, not to mention he's oh, I don't know, EIGHT FEET TALL," Sam shot back.

"Maybe so, but Lieutenant Worf is a KLINGON, plus he has the training and the skills to fight with multiple weapons. He doesn't just rely on 'brute strength'," you mocked.

"Yeah, but--" Sam started.

"Oh, for crying out loud, will you two nerds just shut up!" Dean thundered.

You and Sam glared at each other for about ten seconds, then busted out laughing at Dean's outburst.

"Relax, Dean. We're not really fighting," you explained between giggles.

"Yeah Dean, relax. Just two best friends having a healthy debate of Star Wars vs. Star Trek, and why Star Wars is the best," Sam grinned.

"As if, Sam!" you shot back in mock annoyance, playfully swatting Sam's arm. You looked at Dean just in time to see him roll his eyes at the antics going on between you and his brother.

You and the Winchesters were on your way to tracking down the cause of some unusual activity in Colorado. All indications pointed to demons, especially with the traces of sulfur left behind at the crime scenes.

Dean pulled into a space in the parking lot of the Moonstone Motel. He gave the two of you one last glare before he exited the Impala and headed for the motel manager's office.

That left just you and Sam in the car, which served to kick your heart rate up a bit. His chin rested in the crook of his elbow, his arm perched on the edge of the front seat. He looked at you with a playful grin on his face.

"What?" you asked with a chuckle.

"Nothing," he replied, still with that grin on his face. "You look pretty today," he remarked softly.

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the unexpected compliment from an unexpected source. Before you could open your mouth to respond, Dean opened the car door and settled back into the driver's seat.

Dean parked the Impala in front of the rooms, then handed you a key for your own room, #12. Sam followed his brother to their room, #11. As you put the key into the lock, Dean was doing the same for their room. You flashed Sam a warm smile, then ducked into your room.

You dropped your bag on one of the chairs and perched on the edge of the bed. You took a deep breath then flopped back onto the mattress. After staring at the ceiling for a while, you decided to take a shower. While washing your hair, you replayed the events that had occurred in the car just before you arrived at the motel.

It was an age-old debate between you and Sam, Star Wars vs. Star Trek. It was something the two of you liked to engage in to annoy the hell out of Dean on long car rides. He endured it for as long as he could, then usually ended up telling the both of you to shut up. Sometimes, either you or Sam tried to get in one last parting shot against the other. Dean would again yell at the offender to shut up, and that would be the end of it.

You thought back on some of your previous discussions. Marvel vs. DC, Lord of the Rings vs. Harry Potter, even Looney Tunes vs. Tom and Jerry. Sam had fought you tooth and nail on most of those until you finally had to call a truce, basically agreeing to disagree.

However, today's debate ended without the usual fanfare of one of you trying to get in the last word. It was almost like he let you win, but Sam wasn't known to do that. He was nothing if not persistent, practically to the point of being irritating. There was no way you could ever be angry with Sam for long, though, not with how you felt about him. Then there was his last comment, just before Dean got back in the car. What was up with that? you wondered.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had first met the Winchesters about seven years ago, when they rescued you on a shapeshifter hunt in Evansville, Indiana. Your hunting partner, Andrew, had been captured by the shifter. You tracked it through the sewer tunnels beneath the city, but by the time you found Andrew, it was too late. As you tried to recover from your initial shock of Andrew's death, the shifter ambushed you. You got knocked around, hit your head a couple of times and broke your arm in the process.

The shifter managed to get the upper hand and knocked you to the ground again. Your silver knife was just out of your reach, and you were fighting hard just to remain conscious. As the shifter was about to strike the final blow, Dean came out of the shadows and killed it.

Sam came rushing to your side, checking you for injuries, while Dean looked around for other shifters and/or victims. Once Sam was satisfied you could be moved without causing further injury, he picked you up and put you in the backseat of your '68 Nova. He drove you to the hospital and stayed while you were treated for your broken arm and probable concussion.

The hospital wouldn't release you on your own due to the concussion, so Sam volunteered to be responsible for you. He drove your car back to the motel, which happened to be the same one that they were staying in, only a couple of doors down. You spent the evening getting to know Sam, while Dean went off to the local bar to celebrate a successful hunt.

As the months went by, the two of you became best friends. After awhile, you found that your feelings toward Sam had begun to change. At first, you dismissed it as some sort of "hero worship", from the aftermath of the shifter case. Then, you thought maybe it was infatuation, from the way he took care of you, almost like a "Florence Nightingale" effect.

Eventually, you realized that your feelings for the younger Winchester went beyond best friends and were not related to the shifter incident. However, after having had your heart broken before, you were reluctant to take that leap of faith to reveal your true feelings to Sam.

Over time, you've done your best to hide them, push them down and pretend they didn't exist. Even so, the current course of action was becoming more difficult with every smile, every lingering look and every touch that electrified your skin. After what happened on the car ride today, you knew something was going to break sooner or later. You just weren't sure what you'd do when it did.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In Room #11

"So, what do you say, Sammy? What say we find a bar, have a few drinks and go check out the 'local wildlife', hmm?" Dean grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

Sam was researching something on his laptop. "Nah, you go on ahead, Dean. I'll just stay here, see what else I can find out about this case," he mumbled, eyes never leaving the computer screen.

"Come on, Sammy, you know what they say. All research and no whiskey makes Sam a dull boy," Dean teased.

Sam threw Dean one of his famous bitch faces. "Really Dean? That's the best you've got?" he grumbled.

"What's with you, man? You don't want to come out tonight for a drink and to dance with a pretty girl, you'd rather stay in. Oh, and by the way? Why did you let her win that argument today?" Dean remarked.

"What are you talking about? I didn't let her win anything. You told us to stop arguing, so we did," Sam replied.

"Yeah, but one of you usually throws in one last parting shot, and neither one of you even tried. So, I ask again, little brother, what's with you?" Dean asked. "Are you really that tired? Did you think she was right? Do you like her or something?" he persisted.

When Sam looked up in response to his last question, awareness suddenly dawned on Dean. "You do like her! I'll bet you wanted her to know what it feels like to win, so you caved! Oh, this is too sweet," Dean gloated.

"Shut up, Dean, you don't know what you're talking about," Sam growled. "Besides, even if I did have feelings for her, there's no way she'd return them. She's an amazing woman. Smart, beautiful, and she deserves someone who can give her the world. Besides, she's my best friend, for cryin' out loud. Probably all we'll ever be, though," he muttered.

Dean pursed his lips. Oh, Sammy, if only you knew what I know, he thought to himself. Dean found out about your feelings for Sam after a drunken night in the library. After one too many shots of whiskey, you'd let the confession slip out, and instantly panicked. You made Dean swear not to tell Sam, but he also made you promise to tell Sam before too much time passed.

Dean shrugged, grabbed his keys to the Impala and headed out the door. "All right, but don't wait up. You know, you don't have to stay in here all alone after I leave," he grinned mischievously.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Dean," he replied. Dean finally left the room, got into the Impala and headed for the bar. "Finally," Sam grumbled.

He thought about Dean's last comment, the one about not staying in their room all alone while he went out. Sam wondered if you were already asleep, or if you might be interested in watching a movie with him. He quickly changed into his pajamas, made sure he had the motel room key in his pocket and knocked on your door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As you towel-dried your hair, you heard the roar of the Impala's engine as she pulled away from the motel. Guess the two of them are headed out to blow off some steam, you said to yourself. As you were about to pull the blankets over your head, you heard a knock at the door. You glanced through the peephole and saw that it was Sam.

"Hi," you greeted him as you stepped aside to let him in.

"Hey," he replied. He looked at you then at the blankets turned down. "Oh, you were just going to bed, I'm sorry. I should go," he stammered.

You put your hands on his solid, muscular chest to stop him. "No, no, you don't have to go. As long as you're here, would you like to watch something on TV?" you asked hopefully.

"Sure, a-as long as I'm here," Sam smiled shyly. Your hands on his chest seemed to solidify his decision to stay.

You went over to your previous spot on the bed and got your legs under the blankets then maneuvered into a sitting position. You were having some difficulty in propping up some pillows between your back and the headboard. After he got underneath the blankets, Sam reached over and helped put the pillows in the right place for you. "Thank you, Sam," you remarked softly.

Sam looked around for the remote then found it on the nightstand by his side of the bed. He offered it to you, but you declined. He flicked the power button and started to run through the channels, finally settling on the first of four parts of The Stand by Stephen King. "Is this okay?" he asked.

You shuddered, remembering the parts that you had read from the novel that were a little disturbing this late at night. You had enough nightmares from what you saw with your own eyes on a daily basis, let alone what your imagination could conjure up. "Yeah, I'll be all right, I guess. It's just a TV show, after all," you replied nervously.

Sam chuckled softly and put his arm around you to bring you closer to his side. "Don't worry, I'm here, I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you," he promised. In response, you put your head on Sam's shoulder and your hand on his chest. You let out an audible sigh of contentment and tried to concentrate on the program. There were a couple of jump-scare moments in the show, but Sam was there to hold you and calm you back down.

Soon enough, your eyelids started to droop and you were having a hard time keeping awake to watch the program. Finally, you gave in to your exhaustion and your eyes slid closed for the night. Sam pulled you closer to his side and dipped his head towards you. He pressed his lips to your temple in a lingering kiss and whispered, "Goodnight, sweetheart."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you woke to a heavy weight across your midsection and a toasty, warm feeling throughout your body. When you looked down, you noticed that it was Sam's arm draped across you, keeping you held close to his body. You tried to carefully ease out of bed without waking him, but Sam was having none of that. "Mmm, g'morning, baby," he mumbled then kissed your bare shoulder where your T-shirt had slipped off.

The feel of his soft lips on your bare skin sent an electric shock wave racing straight to your core. "G-good morning, Sam," you stammered. You turned over to face him and saw that his eyes were still closed. You reached over and brushed a lock of his thick chestnut hair behind his ear, then traced his jawline with your index finger. Sam caught your hand in his and kissed each fingertip, one by one.

As much as you were enjoying this, you told yourself that it wasn't real. Sam was stuck in some dream-like state, one where he was kissing some other woman just like he was kissing you. That was the only explanation you would let yourself accept. Eventually, you were able to get out from under Sam's arm and make your way to the bathroom with your bag.

Today was the day for meeting with the local authorities and questioning the witnesses. That meant wearing your Fed suit with the black pencil skirt, white button-down blouse and black blazer. You ran a quick brush through your hair then focused on your make-up. You had left your shoes by the door, only wanting to put them on at the last minute.

When you walked out of the bathroom, Sam was sitting up in bed and Dean was already in his Fed suit. He had brought coffee and breakfast with him. You could feel an awkward silence in the room, as if you'd interrupted a discussion the boys were having. Sam rubbed his eyes then got out of bed. "I'm gonna go get dressed, then meet you both back here," he stated. He flashed you a quick smile then walked out of your door and over to his and Dean's room.

Dean looked at you with an all-knowing smirk on his face. "So, how was it last night?" he asked.

"What exactly do you think happened, Dean? Sam came over after you left, and we watched TV," you mentioned.

"All I know is that Sam didn't sleep in his bed last night, so he had to have slept here," Dean pointed out.

"Dean, what more do you want me to say? I fell asleep watching TV, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up with Sam still here in my room," you explained. Which was a pleasant surprise, you thought.

"Oh-ho, a little 'Netflix and Chill', hmm?" he grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes in disgust. "Oh, will you grow up, Winchester? Not everything is about sex," you retorted.

"Fine," he huffed. "One question though," he mentioned.

"What?" you replied wearily.

"Who was the big spoon?" Dean asked with a know-it-all smirk still on his face.

You answered him by slapping his face with a pillow from the bed. Sam walked back into the room just in time to witness the pillow being slammed into his brother's face, causing him to laugh. You gave each other a high-five.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After breakfast, the three of you climbed into the Impala and went over to the local sheriff's department. You wanted to see what they had turned up and also to get a look at the victims. Sam and Dean introduced themselves to the sheriff and began chatting with them about the crime scene and the victims. At the same time, you were trying to see what additional information the deputy may have.

Deputy Walters was kind of young, a little shy and soft-spoken, not exactly the tough-as-nails lawman you might expect. So, during your questions, you turned on your feminine charms, hoping that it might elicit more information. You hated to be reduced to using such tactics, but you reminded yourself that lives were at stake.

As you spoke to Deputy Walters, you noticed that Sam kept glancing over. His frown seemed to deepen the longer you and the deputy were talking. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

"Well, I think that about does it, Deputy Walters. You've given me a lot of good information for me to review with my fellow agents. Thank you," you remarked, putting a hand on his arm.

"Please, call me Frank. And, you're welcome. Anything to help out an agent from the bureau. 'Specially one as pretty as yourself," Frank gushed. "How much longer are you in town?" he asked.

You felt your cheeks grow warm at his compliment. "Not sure, I still have to compare notes with those two, then go from there. Why?" you inquired.

"I was kind of hoping that maybe you might want to go out for dinner with me tonight? It's kind of a small town, and most of the ladies my age are already married. Besides, it's not every day that I get to meet a gorgeous woman who's also an FBI agent," Deputy Walters remarked shyly.

"How nice of you to say, Deputy Walt--Frank," you replied softly. You looked over at Sam and Dean, who were both still discussing the case with the sheriff. "I think dinner tonight could be arranged," you agreed.

"Really? I-I mean, that's great! How about we meet back at the station at 7, and we can go to dinner from here?" he suggested.

"Sounds great, I'll have one of my partners drop me back here at 7," you said.

"Until then, sweet lady," Deputy Walters took your hand and brushed his lips across the back.

Sam's eyes grew wide as he witnessed this exchange from across the room. He abruptly excused himself from Dean's side and made his way to yours. Sam placed a hand on your back and quickly ushered you out to stand next to the Impala to wait for Dean.

Once you were outside, you whirled around and turned to face Sam. "What the hell was that, Winchester?" you demanded.

"Me? What the hell were you doing, flirting with the deputy?" he retorted.

You pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger. "It's the same as we've always done. We've got a small-town deputy who seems to be a little lonely and we need info. So, like always, you and Dean leave me to turn on the flirt. Don't worry, I have every intention of sharing with you all the information that Frank gave me. Before I head out for my date with him tonight, that is," you finished.

Sam's eyes grew wide at your revelation of going out on a date with someone. "Frank? Who's Frank? And a date?!? You're not going out on any date tonight, not with him!" he exclaimed.

You took a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself before answering. "Deputy Frank Walters and I will be going out to dinner tonight in town. He will be waiting for me at the station at 7, and I have every intention of keeping that promise!" you shot back.

"This is not one of our 'friendly debates', this is about you and your safety. We still don't know who's behind all this demon activity. For all we know, it could be Barney Fife over there," Sam huffed.

A thought struck you about Sam's true reason for not wanting you to go out on a date with someone. "Are you jealous?" you inquired.

"What?" he asked.

"That's why you don't want me to go out with Barn--Frank tonight. You're jealous!" you smirked.

"Don't be ridiculous. He knows we're only in town for a short period of time. And it's you who can't see that he's only seizing this opportunity to use you. Just to 'scratch an itch', without any long-term commitment," Sam muttered.

The look of horror on your face instantly told Sam he had taken his debate one step too far. He reached out to you to apologize, but you backed away from him. "I can't believe you said that to me," you whispered.

"Wait, I'm--" Sam pleaded, his hands outstretched towards you.

"DON'T," you shouted. "Don't touch me, don't talk to me, just stay away from me right now," you growled.

Neither of you noticed that Dean had finished talking to the sheriff. As he walked over, he had been watching the entire heated exchange between the two of you. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"Nothing," you both answered in unison, your response a bit louder then Sam's was. You yanked open the rear passenger door and settled into your seat, arms folded across your chest.

Sam did the same, taking a bit more time to settle in as he reflected on the last bit of your conversation. Am I jealous, like she said? he thought to himself. Why should I care who she goes out with? It's not like we're a couple or anything, he silently reasoned. But I wish we were, Sam shook his head at that last thought.

Dean looked at the two of you before he left the station to head back to the motel. "Oh. Yeah. Obviously it's 'nothing'," he observed dryly.

The Impala was barely put in park at the motel before you were the first one out the door. Your keys at the ready, you were in your room with the door closed before Sam and Dean had even taken off their seat belts.

"Dude, I don't think I've ever seen her so pissed. At anybody, let alone you. What did you say to her?" Dean asked.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath before explaining the previous conversation to his brother. "Whoa," Dean said when Sam finished. "You know she's not like that, Sam. She's not into one-night stands and she's not completely naïve about guys," Dean replied.

"Yeah, I know, and I didn't even mean it, either. But she's right, I am jealous of her going out with that deputy. I still may be right, too, though. We don't know who's behind all the demon activity around here. Deputy Dumbass being the cause of it isn't the most far-fetched idea, you know," Sam grumbled.

"Maybe. It could be the deputy. But all that aside, Sammy, you're gonna have to man up and tell her how you feel at some point," Dean replied as his phone buzzed in his pocket. When he unlocked his phone, he saw it was a text message from you.

You: Dean, will you please take me back to the station for my date? Need to be there by 7

DW: Yeah, I can do that. You ready yet?

You: Almost. Will text you when I am.

DW: Don't worry. Gonna be just you and me in the car, kid. Sending Sam to his room without supper lol.

You: Thanks, Dean.

"Is that her?" Sam asked. "Ready for her date?"

"She said she was 'almost ready'. I told her I was sending you to your room, so you gotta clear out, man. Don't worry, Sam. She's tough, she'll be all right," Dean tried to reassure his brother.

About ten minutes later, a buzz in Dean's pocket showed a text message that said you were ready to go. Dean relayed the message to Sam, who then got out of the car. He unlocked the motel room door and went inside, but stood waiting with it cracked open just a little. He wanted to see how you looked, all dressed up for your date. Also, to torture himself a bit more that it wasn't him you'd be out with tonight.

For your outfit, you were wearing your newest pair of faded blue jeans with a sparkly, navy blue top that had a boat-neck opening. You had on your black ankle boots with the wedge heel, and you had kept your jewelry and make-up simple. Sam drew in a deep breath at how beautiful you looked tonight and sent a silent prayer to anyone listening that you be kept safe.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dinner with Frank passed pleasantly enough, each of you asking questions to get to know each other better. You tried to keep your answers as vague as possible regarding your background and current occupation. You told him about your family and about losing Andrew in a car accident, instead of on a shifter hunt.

As you walked out to his car after dinner, Frank suggested that you go out for a couple of drinks and maybe some dancing. "I'm having a great time, and I don't exactly want it to end," he murmured as the two of you stood by his car.

He had his arms around you, and he was looking directly into your eyes as his hand caressed your cheek. It had been awhile since you'd had that kind of attention from any man. But with as shyly as he was acting earlier compared to now, alarm bells started going off in your head.

"Frank, it's getting late, I really should get going. Here, let me text my co-worker so that he can meet us back at the station," you said as you reached for your pocket.

"That sounds perfect, since we know those Winchesters will drop everything to come rescue you," Frank sneered.

"What are you talking about? My partners' names are--" you were cut off by his hand at your throat, lightly squeezing it.

"Save it!" he hissed. "Everyone knows you're working with those two flannel-jockeys," he retorted as his eyes flashed to all black.

"It's you," you whispered. "You're the one behind the demon attacks around here," you growled.

"That's right. Now call them and tell them to meet us here. If you don't, it's going to be a very unpleasant ending to our 'date'," he sneered.

You pulled out your phone to dial Dean's number. He picked up on the second ring. "Hey, sweetheart, is your date over with already?" he asked.

"H-hey, Dean. Yeah, I'm ready to come back. Dinner was nice, but it's getting late so we decided to call it a night," you replied shakily.

"Everything okay, honey?" Dean asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.

"Frank" gave your neck a little squeeze and a warning glare to remind you of the consequences should Dean not take the bait. "Y-yeah, I'm okay, just tired. Deputy kinda reminds me of that guy I went out with from Poughkeepsie," you chuckled nervously.

"Okay, we're on the way. Pick you back up at the station, right?" he asked.

"That's right," you choked out. "See you soon, Dean," you whispered. Hope so, you silently added as you disconnected the call.

"Now, we wait," the demon said smugly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean grimly looked at his phone after the call was disconnected. Sam could tell something had gone wrong, and he knew you were in trouble. "The demon--" Sam started.

"Yeah. Just like you said, Sam," Dean confirmed.

Sam closed his eyes and looked at the ceiling. Now was not the time for the I-told-you-so's. The main focus at hand was that they had to get you back safely. Dean grabbed his car keys and ran out the door, with Sam close behind.

Before getting behind the wheel, the boys checked the trunk to make sure they had a good supply of holy water and their angel or demon blades. When they were satisfied in their preparations, they got back in the car and headed over to the sheriff's station. On the way, Dean sent up a prayer to Castiel, just in case.

When they got near the station, they noted that there were five demon sentries keeping watch. Inside, the demon wearing Deputy Walters as a meatsuit had tied you to an office chair. He kept looking out the window for any signs of the Winchesters.

"You don't really think they're going to waltz in the front door, do you?" you scoffed.

The demon backhanded you across the face in response. "Keep quiet. They'll be here, it's just a matter of time. I hope they get here quick, because this meatsuit isn't cooperating too well. Keeps squirming, telling me not to hurt you," he mocked.

"Leave him alone!" you growled.

"You're not really in any kind of position to make demands, now are you?" he sneered.

"Listen to me Frank, I know you're in there, and you've got to fight! You can do this, just kick him out!" you pleaded. Another slap to the face, this one hard enough to bring tears to your eyes.

"Shut up! Or I will hurt him from the inside and it will be all your fault if he dies," the demon snapped. A noise outside caught his attention, and you prayed that it was your rescue party. You also hoped they would be able to make it into the building undetected.

"Looks like the party's about to get started," the demon cackled with glee. His grin faltered when he began to hear demon screams and see several orange flashes. You both knew that meant his demon army was being taken out, one by one.

"Noooooo!" he cried. With his master plan unraveled, the demon chose to smoke out rather than be sent back to Hell by Sam or Dean. Deputy Walters' body slumped to the floor, unconscious.

From your chair, you visibly relaxed when you saw that the demon was gone. Your head was down, and silent tears began streaming down your face. Sam and Dean walked in, guns drawn, but quickly put them away when they saw there was no longer a threat.

Dean tended to Deputy Walters, and for the most part, the deputy was okay. At some point, he was probably going to have to get 'the talk'. You knew he would need it to help him make sense about what happened.

Sam rushed over to your side and began to untie the ropes holding you to the chair. He helped you stand up once you were all untied. He gingerly massaged your wrists where the ropes had started to bite into them.

As you stood before him, you continued to cast your eyes downward, unable to look Sam in the eye. You felt a bit ashamed of how the two of you had fought before your date with the deputy. What you considered to be jealousy, was really only Sam's concern for your safety. Turns out he was correct in that the demon possessing Deputy Walters was the one you were supposed to be hunting.

"Hey," Sam said softly. "Come on, sweetheart, look at me. Please," he pleaded. You shook your head, but Sam hooked his finger under your chin and tilted it up so he could look into your eyes. His face fell at seeing the marks on your face from being slapped around by the demon. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry this happened," he whispered.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Sam, I do. I apologize for not listening to you that the deputy may be possessed and the cause of all of this. If I had, none of this would've happened. I'm so sorry for how I acted earlier," you remarked softly.

"What matters is that you and the deputy are safe, and the demon left the meatsuit behind," he reminded you. His fingertips gently brushed your cheek, then he slid his hand to cup the back of your head. Ever so slowly, Sam inched forward to close the gap between you until you felt his soft lips meshing with yours in a slow, tender kiss.

"Whoa," you whispered after you and Sam broke apart from the kiss. "So that's how best friends kiss after a near-death experience with a demon?" you asked.

Sam chuckled lightly. "I don't know about that, but it's my way of showing you that I consider you as more than my best friend. I-I'm in love with you. Your smile, your laugh, everything. I could lose myself for hours in your expressive eyes. I want to run my fingers through your soft, silky hair. And my lips are itching to not only kiss your lips, but any other part of your bare skin that presents itself," he finished softly.

"Oh. Well, you certainly have made a compelling case. Only this time, I'm in complete agreement with you. I'm in love with you, too, Sam. Your intelligence, your compassion, how I know I can tell you anything and you won't judge me. Your strong arms that I know will keep me safe and comfort me when I need it. And those lips of yours sure do talk a good game. I, for one, cannot wait to feel their magic wherever they may travel over me," you responded.

It took all of about three seconds before you dove towards each other and your lips crashed together in passion-filled kiss. Sam's tongue darted out, intending to break the seal on your mouth, and you gladly granted him access with a smile. As quickly as the kiss started, you slowed down and took your time to taste and explore each other's mouth. A tiny moan escaped your lips, which seemed to re-ignite the fire within Sam, causing him to pick up the pace again.

When the need to breathe became too great, you broke apart, both of you panting heavily. "Wow, Sam, you're amazing," you remarked.

"Baby, you're the amazing one. I wasn't sure how much longer I would've been able to keep my feelings for you hidden away," Sam replied. "I love you so much," he declared.

"You know, I think I fell in love with you right after we met, after that shifter case?" you asked, to which he nodded. "At first I thought it was some sort of 'hero worship', because you rescued me and took such good care of me afterwards. But I can't deny it anymore. I love you too, Sam," you replied.

From the doorway, you heard the sound of someone clearing his throat. You both looked over to see Dean standing there, that know-it-all smirk back on his face. "It's about time you two confessed your feelings. I didn't know how much longer I was going to be able to stand watching you dance around each other," he grinned.

On the way home, Sam sat in the backseat of the Impala with you. His body was wedged into a corner, his back to the passenger-side door. Then his left leg was stretched out across the length of the bench seat. You sat in front of Sam, your back against his chest and his arms around you.

With the purr of the engine rumbling down the highway, you relaxed against each other. Dean turned around at one point to see that you had fallen asleep in each others' arms. He was happy for you and his brother. "Nerd love," he remarked affectionately, shaking his head.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @yourelivingwrong @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @gabrielslittleangel @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @deangirl93 @idreamofplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @winchesterprincessbride

[nolongerwrites]

7 for Dazai 💖 I absolutely adored your last one!

Of course! And thank you so much!!! Sorry if you don’t like country 😔 I’m from Texas so I listen to a little bit of it! In fact, I went to a graduation party a couple of weeks ago and this song started playing but I was so shitfaced drunk and started dancing on the dance floor by myself LMAO!!!

This was a struggle but I hope you enjoy!

DRINKING PROBLEM

“One more night, one more down”

“One more, one more round”

“First one in, last one out”

“Giving this town lots to talk about”

“But they don't know, what they don't know”

Dazai first met you at the bar he would regularly visit when he wanted to meet with Odasaku and Ango. You were sitting by yourself in the Corner sipping on an old fashion on the rocks as you scrolled through your phone. You looked tired and exhausted. It had been raining outside so a bit of water dripped from your hair onto your coat. In one glance he marked you down as absolutely stunning. He sat down in his usual spot and ordered his usual drink before looking at the clock on the wall. He had some time to kill before he assumed oda and ango would be here so he decided To try and strike a conversation with you.

“Maaan it’s been raining a lot recently wouldn’t you say?” Dazai twisted in his chair so he was leaning against the bar counter as he directed his attention towards you.

“Huh? Oh yeah i guess it has been” you looked up at him and smiled before shutting your phone off and setting it on the table. “love the rain as much as the next person but it sure is a pain having to walk around half drenched in water” you took a sip of your drink before shrugging off your coat.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, what brings you here tonight lovely?” Dazai leaned his head against his hand as the bar tender brought him his drink.

“Ah, I’m a college student here. Somtimes school and work gets to be a tad much, I like to have a drink or two once in a while” you swirled your drink around in a circle before setting it back down. “What about you?”

“Just meeting with a few friends. We come here often. Just some co-workers being drinking buddies” he smiled at you and you couldn’t help a blush creep onto your cheeks. “Why are you here by yourself? Yokohama can get quite dangerous at night”

“I don’t have many friends I have to admit. I’m so busy with work and school I rarely get to spend time with them. And even if I do have time, I usually spend it at home because I’m too tired” You signed and pulled out your laptop from your bag. Tonight unfortunately wasn’t a day off.

“People say I've got a drinkin' problem”

“That ain't no reason to stop”

“People sayin' that I've hit rock bottom”

“Just 'cause I'm living on the rocks”

“Not many friends?!” Dazai dramatically threw his hand over his heart and head. “How could a beautiful lady such as yourself not have many friends? Perhaps a Boyfriend? Surly you have a boyfriend” he was sitting at the end of his chair awaiting your answer.

You stopped in the midst of typing in the password to your laptop before covering a giggle with your shirt sleeve. “I’m sorry, I don’t have a boyfriend either unfortunately” Dazai swore he felt his heart skip a beat. “Well your in luck!! I dazai Osaka shall be-“

“Quit bothering that lady dazai” you both heard odasaku walk into the bar and dazai instantly slumped onto the counter muttering something about him ruining his moment

“Oh! He wasn’t bothering me!” You waved odasaku off in a friendly manner before going back to typing. “He was keeping me good company. And now that I know his name I can thank him properly” you gave dazai a friendly smile before thanking him

That’s right. Dazai didn’t even know your name. “What is your name by the way? I don’t think I ever asked?” And you told him. He repeated it to himself in a dreamy state before getting back up from the counter and striding over to you. He grabbed your hand and placed a soft kiss into the back of it before looking back up into your eyes.

“Now that I may continue, I dazai osamu, will here on out be your friend”

And he did. Shortly after his little declaration of friendship, he introduced you to odasaku and ango, who came in shortly after oda. And you quickly became comfortable with them. They did end up telling you what they all did for work. But strangely enough you didn’t really mind. You could never judge someone on what they did for work considering the things you’ve had to do a couple of times. So as you continued to work on college assignments, they talked about how their days went. Somtimes they’d ask you about yours but you would just tell them that they were far more interesting than you.

And this became sort of a regular thing. You exchanged numbers with all 3 of them in case they’d ever like you to join them again. So when the night ended and you started packing your things up. Dazai excuses himself to walk you Home.

“Oh dazai-san it’s fine really! I can handle myself!” You exclaimed as you stood at the top of the staircase “I’m alright really !”

He ended up walking you home anyways.

———————————————

Odasaku, Ango, And dazai did occasionally call you up to have a drink with them. You were more than happy to join them since they genuinely felt like good company. But more than once they would run into you while you were there. Today was one of those nights as dazai sat next to you while you did school work.

“Oh hey, I didn’t know you guys were coming tonight.” Dazai looked at your tired eyes as they were glued to the screen. Only sparing a glance when he sat down. “I’m just finishing up an essay due at the end of the week and my apartment is too quiet for my liking”

“It’s just me tonight.” He replied casually before waving down the bartender. He looked over and saw you had a couple of beers yourself. He noticed you tend to drink a lot when you came here. “ how’s your classes been?”

“Exhausting. I’ve never been more tired in my life. I just know this will all be worth it when I’m finally done” You let out a yawn before ordering another beer. But before you could continue typing, dazai had grabbed your wrist to stop you. You looked over at him and gave him a sympathetic smile “I’m sorry dazai-San but I really need to finish this up”

“Why don’t you take a break? You look like your fixing to pass out from exhaustion” he laughed before releasing your hand and sliding your laptop in front of him. You tried to get it back but dazai kept pulling it out of your grasp. You eventually gave up and both you and dazai spent the night drinking and talking. When you tried to get your laptop back so you could go home, he took it with him. “I’ll finish this up for you in no time! It can’t be that hard right?”

It was. In fact he just ended up having odasaku write most of the conclusion. He dropped your laptop off one morning at your apartment with a note on top stating he finished it for you so you could go to school. You texted him after your class and asked him if he’d be at bar lupin tonight. He immediately texted you back saying it was a regular night with Oda And Ango. You replied saying you’d drop by tonight if that was okay. They didn’t mind.

———————————————

“Do you like her? Don’t hide it we can tell” Odasaku said as him and Ango sat on either side of dazai. “Odasaku who wouldn’t? She’s pretty, smart, and she’s just great company in general! Who wouldn’t like her?” Dazai said in a exasperated motion. Ango only raised his eyebrow and smirked before taking a drink from his glass. “That’s not what I meant-“

“Dazai-San!!!” You shouted on top of the staircase prompting the three men sitting at the bar to turn around. You dashed as fast as you could down the steps and threw yourself onto dazai in a bone crushing hug. “My professor said that was the best essay out of the entire class!! I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me!!”

“ it was nothing! In fact I didn’t really do much-“ Dazai looked over at odasaku only for him to put a finger up to his lips telling dazai to be quiet. He would let him have this moment to himself. Though, he did appreciate the fact that his writing was good. “Maybe you could stay and have a drink with us to celebrate. You definitely deserve it” Dazai said as he hugged you back. “Of course! You said as you sat next to oda and ordered a drink.

You all spent the night drinking and laughing with each other. They toasted you for work done well and you couldn’t help but thank each of them even if they didn’t do much. Eventually the alcohol caught up to you and before you knew it you were pretty drunk.

“It's a broken hearted thinkin' problem”

“So pull another bottle off the wall”

“People say I got a drinkin' problem”

“But I got no problem drinkin' at all”

“Odasakuuuuu dance with me” you slurred as you got up from your chair and grabbed his hand to try and get him up. He shrugged and stood up in front of you grabbing your waist. You smiled and laughed before leading him in a slow dance. He laughed at you every time you stumbled, and every time you accidentally stepped on his shoe. When the next song played you wined and asked Ango to dance with you next. That took a lot of convincing up until dazai and oda picked him up and set him in front of you. You grabbed at him and led him in a similar dance. His clammy hands were pressed against yours tightly as you continued to stumble around. He let you lead because he couldn’t dance to save his life.

“I can’t dance I’m sorry” Ango said as he sat back down in his chair. As You, dazai, and oda laughed as you went and hugged dazai from behind his chair. “Care to dance with me dazai-San?” You whispered in his ear. “With pleasure belladonna” he smiled back at you and grabbed your waist. That’s when the music changed to something more melancholy. You leaned your head against his chest as he led you into yet another slow dance. Your head felt like it was spinning and your body felt too heavy for your feet. Dazai smiled and pulled you closer to his chest.

“I really can’t thank you enough, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time” you whispered into his chest. “Of course, you looked like you needed a break”. Odasaku and Ango quietly excused themselves outside as you two continued to dance. You looked up at dazai with half lidded eyes and he felt himself get lost in them. The bar light shone in your hair and outlined the beauty of your face. He couldn’t help but lean in and give you a small kiss. Which you gladly accepted.

It felt nice to finally get away from the troubles of life and spend time with good friends. You stayed like that for a minute before pulling back and giving him a side smile. You wish it would never end. Even as you continued to dance the night away in dazais embrace.

Unfortunately, that was the last time you saw any of them again.

[letsperaltiago]

one single thread of gold tied me to you

From the very first time Jake mentions her name, Karen sees a thread of gold tying him to Amy. In other words: a series of small moments in which Jake is talking to Karen about Amy.

or

Jake talking to Karen about Amy throughout their relationship

Read here or on AO3 

The new girl

“Anything exciting happening at work?”

“Nah,” Jake halts, pausing to think between bites of the dinner Karen has prepared for the two of them. Because he’s the only child (and the fact that he’s a huge momma’s boy) he tries to stop by Karen’s once a week. Either for a quick chat and a coffee or longer. If the latter includes dinner, which it often does, then it’s always a huge plus. Tonight’s visit is one of the longer ones, much needed, and of course dinner is a must.

“Or,” he takes back his prior dismissal. “Like, this new girl joined the squad last week, so that’s… exciting, I guess?”

Karen’s head perks up letting her son know that she’s indeed listening.

“Well that’s always a good thing. What’s her name?”

By then Jake is already busy chewing on another bite of her mom’s baked potatoes - a personal favorite of his. Then again any food his mom makes is his favorite.

“Amy Santiago. She seems cool enough, I guess. Then again she just arrived so I guess I’ll have to see.”

Although the world, more specifically Jake, isn’t aware of it yet, the spinning of his and Amy’s golden thread commences its journey here. Karen smiles to herself as this, she realises, is the perfect opportunity for her to pick a bit on her son who’s never shy of teasing her. Lovingly, of course.

“Maybe she’s cool enough to date?”

The statement immediately interrupts his before eager chewing, a press on his entire body’s pause button, and earns Karen a deadpan expression as answer to her so-called proposition.

“Mom, please.”

There’s small smile on his face as he knows his mom is out to pester him. “Charles already went all Cupid on us when she arrived, so the last thing she needs is me hitting on her. Plus,” he’s back to being chewing on a mix of potatoes and meat, “I don’t even know her.”

“Well that’s just a matter of time, honey.”

Having nothing else to add he figures a shrug must be answer enough.

“Anyways,” he looks back up from his plate to his mother. “How’s Carla?”

Rivalling close friends

For her son’s birthday Karen has invited the squad over to her place for a celebratory dinner. At this point, since they’re good at dropping by if they’re ever in her neighbourhood or nearby for work, she’s familiar with most of the people Jake spends 95% of his time with - this with an exception of Amy and Holt.

They’re setting the table while Jake gives her one last quick rundown of the 99th precinct’s squad, so Karen is sure of who the different people are.

“… And Amy, besides Holt, is the last one to have joined the squad. She’s that super neat, kinda annoying one, I’ve told you about. You know, the one who tells me that I can’t eat in her car, and constantly corrects my grammar.”

“I thought you liked her?” He can’t see tell, since he’s busy setting the table, but Karen frowns finding it unlikely that her son suddenly has something against a colleague he most of the time spoke so highly of.

“I do, mom and that’s what’s so annoying. She’s the worst and best of all worlds...” He pauses in the middle of putting down a plate giving himself some time to turn over his thoughts. “… I mean, she probably is my best friend at this point, besides Charles, yanno? But please don’t tell him I said that. His little heart can’t take it.”

“Because of jealousy or because he’s dying to see you and Amy together?”

“Both,” Jake chuckles shaking his head in disbelief of the fact that he puts up with this situation daily.

Karen knows Jake’s “brother from another mother”, how the little man had introduced himself the first time she met him, very well  and can’t hold back a chuckle at the very vivid mental picture of a both jealous but also over the moon Charles.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

It brings an even wider smile to his face upon seeing his mother pretending to lock her lips and throw away an invisible key. Okay, maybe his mom is his best friend, but Amy and Charles are a close second.

Sadly Amy has fallen sick and never makes it to the birthday dinner, but upon arrival Rosa hands him a pretty gift bag with a tiny card and impeccable handwriting that says: Happy birthday, Pineapples ;) Inside the bag he finds the limited edition Die Hard 2: Die Harder-poster that had smashed his heart to pieces when someone had outbidded him for it on eBay. Little had he known it was Amy, sitting just a few feet away by her desk opposite of him, who’d outdone his bid with a sly smirk on her face. A smile which she could hide behind the big computer screen.

The smile on his face is impossible to hide and he immediately sends her a text:

‘ur gift made me die hard!!! guess ur not so bad after all ;) all kidding aside thank u so much and get well soon <3’

Later that night after everyone has left, he’s helping his mom cleaning the kitchen. Suddenly she hands over a homemade doggy bag with leftovers from the dinner.

“Don’t you think sweet, sick Amy deserves this after the gift she gave you?”

Her smirk doesn’t go unnoticed.

Jake of course agrees and later, on his way home, he drops it off at Amy’s place. It being late and not wanting to wake her up, he leaves it on her doorstep and sends her a text for her to see whenever she wakes up:

‘the bag on ur doorstep is not a bomb but a care package from mother peralta. hope ur feeling better but if u dont can i have your desk at work?’

A few days later Karen texts him a picture of a beautiful thank you card with the infamous, neatly Santiago style-written message thanking her for the thoughtful gesture. Jake smiles to himself and replies with a simple: ‘shes a good 1’

Unconsciously developing feelings

He never explicitly tells her. Still, Karen has her suspicions and they only grow every time her son mentions Amy’s name. Sooner rather than later it becomes very clear to her: her son would go to great lengths for his partner - even though he isn’t ready to acknowledge it yet.

“Mom, there’s no way I’m losing my car to her. I’m gonna take her on a date and she’s going to hate it and i’m going to love it- I mean… love her misery,” he corrects himself.

Karen is leaning against the doorframe to his still unaltered childhood bedroom, where Jake is currently rummaging through boxes containing a mix of childhood memories, dust and worthless nick-nack.

“You don’t happen to still have those old pictures of me and Jenny Gildenhorn, do you? I want to find an exact replica of Jenny’s hideous blue dress to torture Amy with.”

Knowing of Jake’s repressed, yet to be realised feelings, because a mother does know best, Karen rolls her eyes. He doesn’t notice. Probably because he has his head buried under his bed looking for more boxes and childhood treasures. Telling him to look for acknowledgement of his feelings for Amy while he’s down there is almost too tempting, but Karen manages to bite her lip. Hopefully he’ll see it himself one day… Or just keep talking the way he already does about her, even when complaining; it’s always with some kind of admiration. Karen sees the little twinkles in his eyes whenever the raven haired detective is brought up in a conversation.

To Amy’s sheer luck, Karen of course has loads of childhood pictures stored in a box in the garage and she gets to sit by knowingly as Jake searches multiple internet websites for the most horrible, blue, 80s dress possible. “Oh, mom… She’s going to hate this so much. Amazing.”

She doesn’t say anything but smiles knowingly as her son sits on her couch, laptop in his lap,  a boyish smile telling her that he is up to no good as he plans the (best) worst date for his “just a good friend”.

Pining

Everything seems harder at the moment. At least harder than what he’d like, Jake thinks to himself as he lies in bed, feeling tipsy from the few beers he had a Shaw’s. He knows he should just sleep but for some reason he can’t. Instead he tortures himself by staring at the ceiling which is definitely spinning - just a tiny bit though, he tries to convince himself.

He’s just come back from being undercover, and although it was kind of fun and definitely exciting in more ways than one, deep down inside he can’t deny that a tiny part of him had hoped Amy by now would give them a chance. It’s not that he’d expected her to break up with Teddy for him - it was her life to control after all. Not his. Although there was no shame in dreaming; dreaming that she’d welcome him back to the 9-9 with a slow motion run and kiss that would blow them both away, telling him that Teddy and his pilsners were out of the picture and that they belonged together;  all this time they’d been destined to belong to no one else but each other.

Alas this wasn’t the case and he returned from the mafia to a:

“I’m still with Teddy.”

The short sentence plays over and over in his head like a broken record he can’t turn off. The worst soundtrack of his life - without a doubt. Suddenly his phones rings, interrupting his spiralling thoughts.

“Hi, Mom,” he mumbles not hiding the fact that he’s exhausted, physically as well as mentally, and tipsy.

“Hi, honey. How did your first day back go?”

“It was... fine. Good to see everyone.”

Good to see Amy, Karen thinks before she does a double take when she picks up on her son’s voice clearly representing a moody side of him she, or anyone, rarely gets to see.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing, It’s-” he starts out not wanting to get into it, because feelings are messy and he always ends up being the hurt one anyways…  But on the other hand, he thinks, his mom will figure out either way - if she hasn’t already. Perhaps his lack of soberness also takes part in his sudden honesty.

“Amy,” he sighs.

“Is everything all right with her?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. I just-” he pauses. “She’s with this guy and-”

“You wish she wasn’t?” Karen beats him to it and finishes the sentence for him.

“Yeah or- I don’t know. I want her to be happy but...” he sounds utterly defeated to a point that hints at teary, she can tell even though she can’t see him. In that moment Karen wants nothing more than hug her little boy. “I really like her, mom.”

His voice never breaks entirely but it’s a fine line he’s walking throughout the entire conversation. Everything pours out of him; he’s a book of sentimental secrets opening up about his Achilles’ heel for the first time and all his mother can do is listen as he describes his favorite parts of Amy (which is pretty much everything): everything from the way her dark ponytail swings back and forth with purpose when she walks to a crime scene to how, when they’re out drinking with the squad, she always get him a beer whenever she gets up to get herself one.

It’s almost as if the spinning of the golden thread, still unknown to the world, between him and Amy is slowly choking him.

“I want her to be happy, mom… I just-” he almost dozes off before finishing the sentence but fights through it and it’s all at once incredibly endearing and heartbreaking to Karen who’s still listening from her end of the line.

“... I just wish she would be happy with me instead.”

New couple

It’s truly unbelievable. Jake can’t believe he’s about call his mom to tell her: tell her that he’s with Amy now.  

It’s been a month now; a month of him being with Amy and being so very happy he still can’t believe he’s been spending all this time not feeling like this. However, not wanting to rush things or put any pressure on either of them, simply enjoying being together, no one else but the squad knows about them.

Them. Him and Amy. A thing.

Just thinking about him and Amy that way, it almost makes him dizzy of pure disbelief. There had been so much buildup, such a long history of back and forth, bad timing, but all that aside now here they were. Amy Santiago was his girlfriend. Maybe that is the thought that causes his heart to take on a way too quick beating pattern and the hand holding his phone to become clammy. Now is the time though and he doesn’t hesitate to hit his mom’s contact. It rings. Jake can clearly hear his heart thump loudly against his ribcage. Should he be this nervous?

One time.

Two times.

Thre-

“Hi, honey,” his mom’s warm chipper voice interrupts the monotone ringing instantly making his lips spread into a small smile and heart take a break from the irrational thumping.

“Hey, mom,” he starts pacing around his apartment in attempt of diverting all the energy and emotions rushing through him, unconsciously bringing him everywhere from his bed to his kitchen.

“So it’s actually been a little while now… And I haven’t said anything since I didn’t want to rush anything but,” he cuts the sentence in two with a deep breath. “So, like… Amy and I are dating... together... her and I,” he starts rambling and wow he really should’ve written this down first. Karen doesn’t let it go on for too long though too excited to not say anything.

“Honey, I’m so so happy for you two! And it was about time that you finally told me!”

Jake’s pacing stops on the spot.

“What do you mean “finally”?”

“Oh, Jake... Sometimes I think you forget that mothers know everything. Plus you’re not very good at hiding… bruises,” she clears her throat, emphasizing what she’s really saying while imagining her son blush on his end of the line. “Also you’ve been visiting less and less, which means someone else has to take up your time.Someone who is even cooler than your very own mom, someone who makes you this gitty and nervous to talk about… It had to be her you were calling about.”

The smile in her voice is clear as day, but Jake is still baffled trying to come up with an explanation or the very least a decent answer. There is none, he quickly abandons the plan and instead lets out a happy huff.

“She’s really cool, mom. So cool. The last month has been like… the best. I don’t know how else to describe it. She’s the best.”

Compared to the defeated and heartbroken man she spoke to all those months ago, after his return from being undercover, this is a whole new version of her son that she’s longed to see. Karen can’t physically see him but can still clearly tell he’s flipped the page and is taking on a better chapter of his life.

Early relationship

It’s another night at his mom’s. Although the motivation behind the visit is a tiny bit different than usual this time. Sure, they’re gonna talk and have a nice dinner prepared by Karen as per usual, although tonight the mother has to nurse a whiny Jake who’s missing his dear but very out of town for the week-girlfriend. And the experience feels… mixed.

“Dinner is ready!”

No response.

She looks up from where she’s just carefully put down a sizzling pan to see her son back against the one arm of her armchair with his legs svung over the other. Physically he might be close but mentally he’s so far away, clearly more focused on whatever is going on on his phone’s screen.

“Jake,” she tries again but rather than giving his mother a reply Jake start typing as if nothing or noone was within miles of him. Karen can’t help but feel like she’s raising a teenager all over again, a teenager with the attention span of a goldfish, although this time her son is actually in his late 30s, lives by himself and has a girlfriend. So little yet so much has changed about him.

“Jacob,” she tries with her more more stern voice. She knows what he’s doing, texting Amy, and even though it’s cute he needs to snap out of it. At least for long enough to eat. He finally reacts and looks in her direction. Realization hits him which immediately prompts him to push himself out of the seat.

“If you stop eating you won’t even be alive to see her when she comes back.”

He deserves to be teased, he figures.

“I’m sorry. It was a text from Amy and I just wanted to reply right away. I just really miss her, I guess... and this is the closest we’ll get to talking today since she’s busy with her family, so...”

He leaves his phone behind on the coffee table, implicitly letting his mother know she’s got his (somewhat) full attention from now on.

“It’s so weird. We’ve only been together for like...” he counts in his head. “... 5 months now, but I already can’t stand being away from her for too long. Am I insane?” he drops down into his usual seat by the dinner table, almost in defeat but Karen is quick to rescue him in his moment of overdramatic despair.

“No you’re not, I assure you.”

Karen grabs his hand to stroke it comfortingly. She knows her son didn’t mean to be rude, didn’t mean to ignore her and she loves how much he’s opened up about his emotions since getting together with Amy.

“It’s a good sign that you care so much, but just remember that distance makes the heart grow fonder and it’ll feel even better when she comes back… and until then you can let your old mom entertain you.”

They share a chuckle because they both know what that means.

“Did you get ice cream?” he asks.

“Strawberry, chocolate chip and cookie dough… and to top it off: Die Hard is ready to play the second we’re done eating and doing the dishes.”

It’s a little tradition of theirs: their shared comfort snack plus movie-combo.

“You know me so well,” Jake smiles almost forgetting about missing Amy.

If not for the rest of the week then at least for a couple of hours.

Going steady

This week is a a lot different from the usual. While it’s not every single week they actually manage to see each other or even get the time to talk, Karen knows for sure that she won’t hear from her son for at least a couple of days. Jake is away on a cruise with Amy, and so besides the few pictures he’s texted her of them eating shrimp in bed (she wonders how he talked Amy into that) and a huge seagull stealing some of Amy’s fries, Karen doesn’t expect a whole lot of her son’s attention that week.  

Which is why she is extremely surprised when her phone rings, her son’s picture and name displayed on her phone, in the middle of the night. Yes, the element of surprise is of course due to the fact that she knows he’s busy being away with Amy, but also much due the time at which he calls.

01:21

A mother’s undeniable fear and worry for her child never goes away, no matter how old said child is, and it now creeps in making her fear that the worst has happened. What could possibly lead him to call this late? She frantically grabs her phone from her night stand.

“Jake, it’s in the middle of the night. Is everything okay?” She doesn’t mean to come off as accusing but she’s definitely trying to get to the bottom of the mystery right away.

“I love her.”

It falls from his lips, very out of nowhere, and it’s hard to tell within what context it is to be interpreted. Interlacing with his voice is the sound of crashing waves and a strong breeze making Karen wonder where her son finds himself.

“Honey, what do you mean? Where are you?”

Maybe she should’ve understood right away, it was obvious, but not only was she sleeping just seconds ago but the background noise on his end of the line only makes the whole scene way more confusing than it already is.  

He breathes, out of breath almost as if he’s been running. “I’m outside. On the deck. And I love her, mom.”

“The deck?”

“No,” he pauses catching his breath. “Amy. I told her… Or she told me first and then I told her back. Nothing has ever felt more right.”

That makes way more sense, Karen thinks although still quite unsure of exactly why he’s calling her. All that aside her heart is flooded with happiness, when she realises her son is not out of breath from running or crying, but rather all the emotions he must be feeling.

“Aw, Jake. I’m so happy for you. I know how much she means to you.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah… You’ve changed so much throughout your relationship with Amy and it’s only for the better. You were already wonderful, you’re my son after all, but she brings out so much more good in you. This was only a matter of time. I think you’ve loved her for longer than you think.”

Another silence allows the crashing waves and whistling night wind to make an appearance. Following words almost fall off his lips in a tremble but Karen can tell it’s because he’s moved and is trying to collect himself, his emotions and thoughts. This is a big step for him - she knows.

“I have. And I don’t think I wanna stop again.”

Their talk lasts a few more minutes; just long enough for Jake to explain that he couldn’t sleep, too excited about the fact that he loved Amy Santiago and, even better, she loved him! Instead of staying in bed, restless and thus risking waking up Amy, he’d carefully disentangled himself from his girlfriend’s grip and decided to go for a night stroll. Next thing he knew he was calling his mom’s number.

“I should probably go, mom. I don’t want Amy to wake up alone.”

They say their goodbyes and when Karen finally gets to meet his daughter-in-law a few weeks later, at Jake’s chaotic birthday dinner, she is even more sure: their golden thread is so very strong.

Moving in together

The first time Karen visits Jake and Amy’s apartment (the words still make his stomach twist and turn with excitement every time he says it or even thinks it), Amy is out getting groceries for the dinner they’ll all be preparing together.

Jake proudly gives his mom a full apartment tour explaining where he’s added his Peralta-touch to the household while still praising his girlfriend’s taste in interior design. She has to laugh at the huge Die Hard poster discreetly hung on the inside of their closet door. Framed pictures of the couple together hung and standing around the apartment only makes Karen’s heart melt even more.

“How are you guys liking living together so far?”

They’re in the kitchen, Jake is preparing them both a cup of coffee.

“I mean, we already took constant turns crashing at the other’s place so it doesn’t feel that brand new, but still…” he pauses to smile and pours his mother a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee before continuing. “This is so much better. We share a home now. She is officially my home now, yanno?”

“I’m proud of you, Jakey,” Karen playfully ruffles her son’s curly hair, something she rarely gets to do but still immensely enjoys every time. It reminds her of when he was still a little kid and hits her with just how far he’s become. She’s not just proud: she’s so proud.

“Plus, now I get to annoy her 24/7, which is great,” he laughs and Karen playfully pinches his ear.

“Be nice to her, Jacob,” she’s chuckling too.

“I am! Our relationship is practically built on a foundation of pestering and messing with each other. Trust me; she loves it.”

Prison

“Amy… I miss her so much.”

As if the fact that her son has been wrongly accused and is facing 15 years in prison isn’t agonizing enough, Karen also has to suffer the pain it causes her to hear her son cry out to her over the very rare phone calls they get these days.

“When I say I’m afraid of never getting out of here-” he heaves between fallen, sobbed words; sobbed words which Karen knows he tries to subdue in order to not show the other inmates weakness. But it’s hard; impossible. “It’s mostly because I’m afraid of not seeing her again. Every time she visits-,” a sniffle “I’m always afraid that it’s the last time I see her. And all I wanna do is kiss her and hold her, but i just- I can’t. I miss her so so much, mom.”

Karen’s heart breaks alongside her son’s, even hours and miles between them, tears rolling down her red cheeks. She knows she has to be strong for him, and that it’s harder for him than for herself. Denying the ache and fear in every cell of her body is impossible though… But she has to keep her head up for him.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” Karen forces herself to stop crying when she speaks and will instead let the tears fall freely whenever he can’t hear it. “The squad is doing everything they can to get you out.”

“I know... “ he takes a deep breath and Karen can tell he’s trying to collect himself for good this time. “H-how is she?”

For a split second Karen considers lying, not telling him that she’s spent multiple nights consoling a crying Amy and even sleeping over at their place when the young woman was too tired to take care of herself. She considers telling him she’s fine, but she knows it’s pointless: Jake and Amy are two open books who tell each other everything. Just like Amy knows Jake has never been more afraid and seeks hope in every second he gets to be with or even just talk to her, Jake knows Amy is struggling though she’s a trooper and tries to fight through it as seamlessly as possible.

“I visited her on Wednesday and…” Karen bites her lip but eventually a sigh escapes her. “You know how she feels... It’s hard for both of you. But she’s strong, honey and she manages. And on the days where she can’t, I’m there with her. I promise.”

Silence.

He’s holding back tears again.

“I love you both, mom. So so much. You two are what is going to get me through this.”

“I love you too, Jacob.”

Their golden thread might be strained, but now is time for it to show its strength.

Engaged

He can’t put it into words, at least not properly, because how does one describe how it feels to be the happiest man alive? How does one describe such a wide, complex, incredible range of emotions? It’s impossible.

Instead he settles for a text.

It’s truly comical but also very much them: a picture of Amy in the evidence locker, still partially crying although of course also smiling as she shows off the shiny ring on her finger. It’s followed by the message:

‘MOM, I’M MARRYING HER!!!’

Later that night, tipsy after celebrating at Shaw’s, Jake and Amy facetime Karen. It’s safe to say that she gets a good laugh at 3-drink Amy showing off her new, favorite bling while Jake is all over her, placing small kisses to various parts of her face.

“Okay, you two... I’m going to hang up before this goes beyond a PG-rating. Once again congratulations. I love you both and can’t wait to see you soon.”

Married

Bomb threats, ruined cakes and a lost veil are just a few of the things that go horribly wrong on Jake and Amy’s wedding day.

Now, a few weeks later, all these tiny disasters seem to be long forgotten, almost as if they’d never happened.

“... But in the end we’re married and that’s all that matters,” Jake finishes telling his mother the tale of their chaotic but incredibly beautiful and unique wedding which was followed by a PG-rated version of their trip to Mexico.

The three of them are taking up the space of Karen’s living room as they chat and drink their usual coffee. Jake’s arm is slung around his new wife’s shoulders, fingers interlaced with a happiness and peace that warms the mother’s heart. Compared to the anxiety and sadness they all experienced during Jake’s time in Florida and then later on in prison, this moment in time is a major contrast. It’s a moment which Karen at times had feared she’d never be able to witness ever again. Yet here they were, the three of them together in the same room and Jake looked happier than ever. He was married to the love of his life, showing off a warm glow that he could thank both happiness and the Mexican sun for.

“I’m so happy for you two. It was always meant to be this way.”

Karen beams just as much as the married couple, feeding off the pure bliss they display in each other’s company. Amy perks up at the comment growing curious.

“Always?” she questions with a smile.

“The second he told me that the new girl was “pretty cool”, I knew something was meant to happen.”

Jake feels blood rushing to his cheeks even though said new girl is now his wife.

“Aw, babe,” Amy turns to him flashing a teasing grin. Every opportunity to tease must be put to good use. “I can’t believe you’ve been into me for so long. How embarrassing for you.”

“Hey!” He whines and it’s clear to see that he’s trying to fight the blush and embarrassment alas it’s already way too late. ”Be nice to your husband, Mrs. Peralta.”

“Not my fault that you’re so into me, Mr. Peralta.”

There’s a short pause in the conversation where Jake realises there’s no way out unless he uses her own teasing ways against her.

“I’m a lucky man… I guess,” he counters playfully and it earns him a just as playful slap to the shoulder.

“You guess?”

Amy is quick to pull away  although doesn’t allow their fingers to untangle while she sends him a mock-pout.

“Be nice, Jake.”

Karen loves her son but will also, at any given time, take Amy’s side before his. Jake came to learn this the second he introduced the two women and they started gossiping about him. He would care to mind if it wasn’t for the fact that there was nothing better than his two favorite women getting along so well.

“I’m joking, babe,” he loses no time and before Amy can add anything he’s pulled her back into the nook of his arm, adding a kiss the top of her head - just for good measure (and because he’s crazy about her). “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Their golden thread has tied an everlasting knot.

Trying

Jake and Amy trying for a baby had been such a joyous announcement, and Karen will never forget the proud look on her son’s face the day he told her. Although tonight, said proud and happy expression is long gone, forgotten and dissolved by the many months of planning, trying and holding on to their hope.

Jake is once again, as so many times before, on his mother’s sand-colored couch with warm coffee in hand but this time with a look of despair painted across his pale face. While she’s been getting cookies in the kitchen he’s fallen into deep thought and doesn’t say anything for a while. Even after she comes back and sits down across from him. The silence might be needed, Karen thinks and, of course, respects it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t shake her to the core when the next thing he says seems to question every ounce of happiness he’s ever lived.

“What if all along I’ve been the wrong choice? A bad choice.”

His eyes doesn’t budge from the same spot, an old coffee stain on the couch, he’s been staring emptily at for the past minutes. Even as he speaks.

“What if she was supposed to be with someone else. Someone who can give her the family she wants… the family she deserves.”

It doesn’t even sound like a question at this point but rather a horrible fact he states in a moment of frustration and agony, and it ignites a fury within the mother because she knows it’s his anxiety and fear of abandonment speaking. She knows that their love is way bigger than that.

Things are far from easy right now. On the other hand Karen hasn’t witnessed them fight and overcome every obstacle imaginable, everything from a stupid mattress to being sent away to both Florida and prison, only to come to this. This isn’t the tip of the thread. A golden thread isn’t spun without reason. It’s spun for the fated.

“Has Amy ever made a bad choice?” she asks.

For the first time in a long time Jake actually looks at his mom. He pauses but she knows he doesn’t have to think. Karen knows that in his eyes Amy can do no wrong.

“No… I just-”

“Okay, so do you honestly think that her wanting and fighting for a baby with you is a bad choice? Even if it doesn’t come easy.”

There’s another silence, longer this time, which hopefully means that something resonates inside his head even though Karen knows it’s a dark and confusing place right now.

“No, I guess…”

“No, don’t say “you guess”. You know, Jake Peralta. You love Amy and she loves you. I know it seems like life keeps on throwing you curveballs and I wish it wasn’t so, but trust me when I say that it’s not because it’s a wrong or bad choice. You being with Amy is the best, most right doing I’ve ever witnessed, and I’m so proud of it. Stop doubting yourself. Your love is too good for that. You’re too good for that, honey.”

Her voice had started out a bit rough, just to make sure to get her point across, but by her the last sentence it has grown soft like butter and Jake can’t help but fall into his mother’s arms. He knows she’s right and it’s in moments like these that, moments where he wants to give up, he’s glad to have her to fight off his demons.

“I just want to give her everything she deserves, mom,” he mumbles into her shoulder, still holding on for dear life; so closely that Karen swears she can feel his heart breaking against her chest. “And I know I’ve been hesitant about it in the past, but now I just-”

Karen feels him let go of her and straighten his back. His eyes are shiny and there’s so much hope but also hurt in them.

“... I really want to be a dad. I really do. And then I wanna do it right.”

Karen knows what he’s hinting at and the sentiment is so valid even though she’s back together with Roger and their father-son relationship has grown stronger.  

“You will be, honey. One way or another,” she whispers and reaches out to stroke his cheek. “And you will be the best. I promise you.”

Pregnant

Mother knows best, Jake can’t help but think on the magical evening Amy tells him the best thing he’s ever heard: she’s pregnant. The world seems to flourish around him like never before.

Of course the first person he wants to tell is his mom, but him and Amy quickly agree on keeping the amazing news to themselves, or at least until their baby has hit the safety that the 12-week mark comes along with.

Until then Jake and Amy plan on how to break the news to Karen (and Roger, of course) and Jake almost can’t believe it when the day finally arrives. Their 12-week check was just yesterday, and to everyone’s relief and joy their baby is growing as they should and thriving in their mother’s womb. They both shed a tear and ask for an extra set of ultrasound pictures to give to the future grandparents - both on his and Amy’s side.  

During dinner with Karen and Roger the following day, Jake is on the verge of bursting, yelling out the news the very second his parents arrive. Although a humbling squeeze of the hand from his wife keeps him in check until dessert. Here the hand squeeze feels different and Jake knows now is the time.

“By the way,” Jake gets up and heads to the kitchen to get another tub of ice cream. “We have a little extra surprise for dessert…”

Roger and Karen frown in unison as both of them are yet to finish what’s already in their respective bowls. Jake ignores it and comes back with a tub of…

“Lime ice cream?” Roger asks, clearly confused by the very specific flavour.

“I didn’t even know that was a thing,” Karen chuckles, always being the one to lighten the mood.

“Well,” Jake smiles with content as he sits back down. “I promise you: you don’t wanna skip this part. It’s the best.”

And so of course Karen is quickly hands on, pulls off the lid and is ready to dig in with her spoon but halts the second she gets to take a good look at the bucket’s content: a small piece of paper. Neither her or Roger understand a thing, and being too preoccupied by their confusion they fail to notice the wide grins on the other couple’s faces.

Karen takes the leap and digs out the picture quickly noticing something scribbled onto it with neat handwriting - Amy’s, of course.

Hi, grandma and grandpa. I’m now 12 weeks old and the size of a lime! I can’t wait to meet you <3

Karen feels her heart skip a bit, maybe even stop entirely for multiple seconds and looks to Jake and Amy for some kind of approval or… she’s not even sure of what. All she’s sure of is that she’s on the brim of exploding. Her son nods biting down on his bottom lip in excitement, and when she flips the piece of paper she’s met by the most wonderful picture she’s ever seen: their future grandchild, tiny as can be, in black and white, and completely perfect.

Karen tears her eyes away from her grandchild to look at her son to be met by his almost trembling voice and shiny eyes.  

“Good thing my mom was right when she told me that I would be a dad some day.”

Jake’s eyes are so sincere with tears threatening to spill as he holds his mother’s gaze talking directly to her, and it’s safe to say there’s waterfall’s worth of happy tears that evening.

Welcoming mac

The day Mac is born Jake feels as if his heart is suddenly beating and living outside of his chest in the shape of his son. There’s so much love even before their son officially arrives, but nothing can possibly top the feeling of holding him in his arms feeling the infant’s hand wraps around Jake’s thumb. Love is shooting through the roof and up to the moon. Never before has Jake felt so much love for someone’s he’s just met before and it’s scary in the best way.

He’s sitting in an armchair by Amy’s hospital bed, his wife fast asleep after the most exhausting hours of her life, when the door to their room pops open. He doesn’t even bother looking up at first as he’s too busy gazing lovingly at the bundle of love in his arms.

“Oh my goodness.”

Jake head perks up immediately recognizing the sound of his mother’s voice. By now she’s closing the door behind her, quietly.

“Hi, mom. Come say hi.”

Karen can hear his smittenness in his voice and sits down on a smaller chair next to him to better see her brand new grandson. It’s immediately clear as day that the newest Peralta is the perfect mix of both parents. Chubby cheeks, dark hair, full lips and a nose she’s gonna want to kiss over and over again.

“Meet McClane. Mac for short,” Jake informs her stroking his son’s chubby cheek.

“It’s perfect,” Karen clucks and follows suit stroking Mac’s other cheek. “He’s beautiful, honey. You must be so proud. I know I am.”

For various obvious reasons Jake has always struggled with acknowledging pride - even when he’s clearly felt it, he’s found it difficult to say it out loud or fully believe it. Today is different though and he wants to scream it from the rooftops: he’s so freaking proud of his beautiful baby son and his incredible wife.

He smiles fondly as he nods in agreement.

“I really am, mom. Proud of myself but especially of Amy. I’ll explain it further later but I Amy went into labor at the precinct, I was out helping with the blackout and almost missed the birth. I just barely got there before Mac was born and Amy managed everything like a pro. I can’t believe I’ve made a human with her. She’s the best… I’m so lucky.”

Jake looks at Karen sensing that she’s going to speak.

“I can’t imagine any other person for you than her, and together you’ve formed a beautiful little family, honey. One to be very proud of, so don’t forget to give in to that feeling, okay?”

Karen hand travels from sleeping Mac’s cheek to her son’s curly hair, on a mission to stroke it like she always would when he was a child and it prompts Jake to lean his head onto her shoulder. From his new vantage point he looks back at Mac, then Amy.

They’re his whole world, his two ends meeting and Karen can only sit by to admire the scene before her. Never has Karen felt more sure of the fact that there was always one single thread of gold tying Jake to Amy.

(And Mac).

[cranehusbands]

glory, to olympus

loba andrade/crypto | park tae joon; established relationship; hurt/comfort; post broken ghost; apex rarepair week; 1883 words

a/n: first thought is why the fuck did ao3 butcher crypto’s name so bad.. that’s not how his name is said. taejoon is one word. crypto im so sorry

secondly, this has been my agenda this whole time. welcome to cryptloba hell, population me. i absolutely adore these two with all my heart, i was so excited for finally write for them, and will be doing so later this week, as it’s apex rarepair week! the prompt i went for for this one was meet the parents and well... you get the idea. angst time baby

@apex-rarepairweek thank you for hosting this wonderful week!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: The thief’s mouth hung open in her rambles, before she looked up to Crypto, still standing in the rain with his hands in his pockets, hair flat against his face. The shadow over her eyes fell now, mascara running down her cheeks as she wiped the nose with the back of her hand in an uncharacteristically sloppy way. “...Am I doing them wrong, Park? Have I done bad by them?”

The gentle sound of the radio was enough to not make the room sound so deafening in its silence, raindrops hitting the window like tears from the clouds, as if knowing the day to the date, and mourning on her behalf. The song was a lighthearted one, one about running away to the big city - an older one, from more than many years ago, somehow still prevalent on the radio stations that she tended to be drawn towards. Was it because this music was a comfort to her? Her father always cared a lot for songs like those, and he would whisk herself and her mother around the living room while some lovelorn fool sang about a Caroline or an Eileen. 

  Loba was gentle in the way she did her makeup, having mastered her technique in the past few years - her philosophy had always been to not get caught, but if she were to be, she had to look her best. She closed one eye, gently placing a synthetic eyelash over the smokey eye makeup she’d carefully painted on already, pulling away and staring at herself in the vanity mirror in her room, and hand running through one of the shorter braids, the ends of her hair no longer stark red and now simply a subdued blonde. Her eyes fell on a small polaroid in the corner of the vanity, moving to run two fingers of the faces of the two adults - a suited man and a smiling woman - staring at the young child with a wide smile and a small tooth gap. The thief smiled a little, at the way the girl was so oblivious to her future, her happiness at that moment forever caught, to be cherished and longed for. She stared for a moment or two more, hand pulling away to catch a glance of the two parents by the girl’s shoulders, just as happy as she, before she stood to her feet, grabbing the leather-gloved form the edge of the desk before she opened the door, and began heading out of the dropship, passing by the kitchen and listening to the clicking of her boots against the floor-

  “You’re awake early.”

She jumped at the sudden voice, shooting a glare over to the table in the dropship’s kitchen, where a pair of eyes stared back at her from over the back of a laptop. “For god's sake, Crypto, make yourself known. Don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry.” He almost looked sheepish for a moment, pulling down his laptop screen so she could see his face, the clear bags under his eyes from behind his glasses and the weak smile he gave. “You’re looking very… monotone.”

Loba hummed, doing a little half-hearted spin. “I have places to be. Quite in demand, don’t you know?”

“Hm. Visiting death, are we?”

“I guess you could say that.”

He frowned at her for a moment, brow furrowing before he closed the lid of his laptop and stood to his feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Grabbing my coat.”

“What- no, you’re not coming with me.”

He didn’t respond, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way back to his room.

“Crypto!” The thief called out to him, but again he didn’t respond, not even so much with a turn. And though she gave an exasperated sigh and folded her arms across her chest, she didn’t try to leave him behind in this momentary blindspot. Deep down, she was almost glad for the company. Especially his.

  The hacker soon returned, now donning a fuzzy black coat, somewhat more professional and warmer than his normal attire, though still jarring to see him in something that wasn’t white or green… though, hints of his usual accent still came through, in the formal shirt and tie he still wore underneath. Hands were shoved into his pockets, clearly fiddling with the cube he always carried with him, more for comfort than out of function. Crypto shot her a small nod as she turned to look at him, quickening his pace a little to join her at her side. “So-”

Before he could finish, he was cut off as she ran a hand down his chest, feeling the soft material of his coat under her fingertips with a soft expression. It wasn’t often they shared moments like this - the two were discrete about their relationship, especially since their mission had led to both… complications and rifts in the group, but also new bonds being formed, including their own. Interactions between the two were kept strictly professional when eyes were on them… but now Loba fixed his coat collar, a sad smile on her face, perhaps getting a bit closer than what she would have normally. But it was the early morning, and the open kitchen was silent. It was just them. What did they have to hide?

Crypto’s smile was weak, and embarrassed, perhaps still not used to the shift between professionalism and PDA. His voice cracked a little as he continued with his train of thought. “S-so, where are we going?”

Loba pulled her hands away from him, tucking her arm into his with a solemn nod, as if to hype herself up. “The closest thing I remember being a home to me. ...To Olympus.”

  The ride was quiet, but they both were tense. Loba knew that Crypto never liked crowds, not much - it was bad enough that a handful of the legends knew who he really was, but being so visible was a threat, even if these people had never heard of Taejoon Park before. She reached a hand over to him without looking to make it obvious, feeling for his hand to hold onto for comfort, as she knew the way his eyes fell on her and his face softened in a way that only she knew. The thief gave him a glance, and a small smile, running a thumb over the back of his knuckles, to comfort him, but also perhaps to comfort herself, as through the window the overview of the city so foggy in her memories became clearer. It was so different, and yet... not at all. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it kept coming back, enough to make it hard for her to breathe as they left the landing zone and headed down a familiar road, being dropped off at the front of an extravagant building, where pedestrians entered through lavish double doors. She exited the taxi they had shared, a hand holding onto the door for a moment before she quietly shut it.

“Damn rain,” she grumbled, though it was certainly half-hearted, pulling out her cane and extending it to lean against it, in the way she usually did, her other hand over her eyes to avoid damage to her makeup.

Behind her, the taxi started up again, driving away as the hacker now joined her at her side, hands in his pockets. He hummed. 

“What?”

“You haven’t told me everything about yourself. If I knew any better, I would make a joke that this was your second home… the gaudiness is fitting. But…” He looked over to her, and the way she stared back at him.

Loba swallowed. “Yes, well I… the loss of my family to that… demon… meant I have lost my home, my heritage. I have no grave to return my good wishes to, so I…” With her cane, she gestured towards the building in front of them - to the restaurant where all but one little girl had lost her life over twenty years before.

  There was a long, drawn-out silence, the only sound being the sound of rain that his the pavement leading up to the glowing restaurant doors. 

“I feel my papa would have liked you.”

“Hm?” He glanced down to her, how the rain fell down the sides of her face and how the gloomy sunlight cast a dark shadow over her eyes.

“He would have liked you. From… what I remember, anyway. He was a kind man, a family man. ...Yes, he would have liked you.” Her voice quivered as she repeated herself.

“...Loba, I-”

“-And mama would have too. Oh, the things she would say, I can almost hear them, in a distant sort of way. ‘Mi yerno es un ángel.’, I think is the phrase she’d say… I-I’m sure she would call us married already, she was a housewife type despite her… her profession-”

“Loba.”

The thief’s mouth hung open in her rambles, before she looked up to Crypto, still standing in the rain with his hands in his pockets, hair flat against his face. The shadow over her eyes fell now, mascara running down her cheeks as she wiped the nose with the back of her hand in an uncharacteristically sloppy way. “...Am I doing them wrong, Park? Have I done bad by them?”

He didn’t know what to say. He’d never had this issue before, not for himself - what was done with him was done, and he had no one to mourn… no parents, and no sister. He quickly swallowed before he could ride down that thought path. Reaching a hand out of his pocket, he took hers and gently squeezed. “You… are an amazing woman. They know that, surely, from where they reside. Regardless of what you have done, or will do, you are still theirs. Be proud.”

That’s when her face, that had tried so hard to remain like stone despite her tears, wrinkled, and her grip on his hand grew tighter with a squeeze, before she burst into sobs and practically threw herself onto him, burying her face into his shoulder, as if to hide her dignity, her hands moving to claw onto his back and hold it as if he would leave her at a moments notice.

  He didn’t move, unsure if she would shatter in his arms like fragile glasswork, so perfect and delicate as she shook in the cold and the pressure of containing herself, but soon Crypto held her back, and brought her close, the warmth still foreign to him, even after all the times that had done this behind closed doors. No… it was never like this. Loba was strong, she held her cards close to her chest, and only let herself be vulnerable when she knew she had nothing to lose - and to her, she still had everything to lose. Losing her legacy, her revenge on the simulacrum that took her life away from her. The hacker held her close, holding the back of her head with a hand, quietly shushing her muffled sobs as he ran a hand through her hair, now knotted and wavy with the rain.

“Te amo,” she whispered into his neck, before pulling away and looking up to him, smiling despite herself as she wiped her eye, now red, though not like her usual makeup attire, with the back of her finger, smiling despite herself as she moved a hand to brush at his shoulder.  “Sorry about the makeup all over your coat.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, moving to cup her face with one hand and brush his thumb under her other eye, still wet from tears.  “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. You will be fine. Saranghae.”

[ughseoks]

the story of us | ksj

— pairing; seokjin x reader

— genre; angst, slight fluff in beginning & end

— word count; 1.6k

— warnings; angst, small fight, two stubborn dummies refusing to communicate properly

— summary; you thought that the story of you and jin was one that had a fairytale ending, but a miscommunication leaves you scrambling to ensure it doesn’t end in tragedy instead.

「based on “the story of us” by taylor swift」

— masterlist —

From the moment you met, you hoped that one day, you’d be able to tell your kids the story of you and Jin. You’d be able to recount how his cheeks tinted pink when your gazes locked, sparks flying instantly; how you crossed the room to talk to the mystery boy with broad shoulders, and a feeling of right tugged deep in your gut.

Your relationship blossomed from the first hello, and before you knew it, you and Jin were attached at the hip. Friends and family would always tell you that the two of you were “the lucky ones,” and you couldn’t deny it. How you’d managed to find Jin amongst the sea of people at your university still left you clueless, but one thing was for sure: you had no intention of ever letting him go.

It’s funny how in just one week, everything can change.

Glancing at your phone, you pushed open the door to the library. Your first instinct was to search the room for the tall, elegant creature that was Jin— but you stopped yourself short. Just a week prior, everyone knew that your place was the spot next to him, but now, you were searching the room for an empty seat. The large building was filled to the brim with students studying, sleeping, and frantically completing almost-due assignments. Casting your gaze to the floor, you plopped down at the nearest vacant table, pulling out your laptop to continue writing your literary analysis.

After a few minutes of staring at the halfway-completed document, you sighed in frustration, running a hand through your tousled hair. Normally, you were a quick writer, the words flowing from your fingertips with ease; but now, you couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

As much as you hated to admit it, the source of your distraction was Jin. The argument that the two of you had three nights prior was the only thing you could focus on, and it was affecting both your work and school life way more than you’d like to admit. Resting your chin on the palm of your hand, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memories begging for your attention.

“Lately, I don’t even know what page you’re on!” you yelled, throwing up your hands in frustration, “It’s like you aren’t even you anymore. What happened?”

Recently, you’d felt like something new had formed between you. Something more than being just friends. But, clearly, you were wrong. Jin had grown distant from you; he was staying out into the late hours of the night, ignoring your texts and calls, and showing up to school with the darkest under eye bags you’d ever seen. You didn’t know if it was because he sensed a change in your feelings for him or some other underlying issue, but what hurt you the most was that he was choosing to distance himself rather than confide in you.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jin retorted, desperation and panic seeping into his tone, “I’m still the same Jin you’ve always known. Nothing has changed!”

“You know that’s a lie,” you growled, pointing an accusing finger at him, “I can tell when you’re lying. Just tell me what’s going on!”

He clenched his jaw, averting his gaze from your fiery eyes.

“Is…” your voice dropped to a soft tone, emotion causing it to shake slightly, “Is it because of me?”

“What do you mean?” he replied, still not looking at you.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed it,” your voice had developed a bitter undertone to it; after all, you couldn’t believe he was denying what had been happening between the two of you. “You and I… I see us as being… more than just friends. Do you not feel the same way? Is that why you’ve been distant?”

Jin’s eyes blew wide open in shock, but it was only a moment before his face turned stone cold and the answer that you’d been dreading floated past his lips with an insulting level of ease.

“Yeah, it is.”

Miscommunication leads to fallouts. You and Jin were both well aware of that. But some invisible wall kept the two of you divided, and no matter how many things you wished he knew, the wall you’d erected seemed to grow taller and thicker each day. It stood tall and proud, guarding your already fragile heart from being dealt the final blow that would inevitably shatter it into a million, glittering Jin-shaped pieces.

Letting out a groan, you slammed your laptop shut, sliding it into your bag and storming out of the library. Clearly, you weren’t going to get any work done.

How did you and Jin end up this way?

It was three weeks later when you found yourself in the middle of a party, nervously pulling at your sweatshirt and trying to look busy. Scanning the room anxiously, your gaze unexpectedly locked with Jin’s. His eyes widened in shock before he spun on his heel, leaving you behind him without so much as a peep.

That was the first time you’d seen him in person since the argument. You hadn’t expected him to act like nothing had happened— after all, you weren’t sure you wanted to pretend like you were suddenly best friends again, either— but you didn’t expect him to flat out ignore you. Swallowing the growing lump in your throat, you tried to find a familiar face amongst the crowd, pushing back the thought of Jin doing his very best to avoid you.

Once upon a time, you thought you’d tell the story of how you almost lost your mind when you saw Jin for the first time; how he walked you home that night to make sure you’d make it home safe and sound because you were “too nice to die at the hands of a creepy old man on the street at 11pm.”

But now, he held his pride like he should’ve held you.

God, you were scared to see the ending of this story. Why were you both pretending like this was nothing? It was getting to be too much for your body and mind to handle, and judging by the dark circles you’d spotted under Jin’s eyes, he wasn’t faring much better than you.

Words couldn’t describe just how badly you wanted to run into his arms and tell him how much you missed him. But you had no idea how to.

Pulling out your phone, you drafted message after message, only to delete each of them a few seconds after typing them. The last messages sent between you were from two weeks ago, and the last time you’d actually talked in person had been almost three.

Yet you’d still check your phone at least once every hour, hoping to see a notification from him, just to be let down by a blank screen.

Huffing, you slipped your phone into your pocket and ran a hand through your hair, frustration and confusion coursing through your veins as you stood alone in the crowded room. Sure, you’d had arguments with Jin before, but you swore you’d never heard silence quite this loud. Inside, you were dying to know if it was killing him like it was killing you, but you didn’t know what to say or ask to get past this roadblock.

This terrible twist of fate had shattered everything, and the once fairytale-like story of you and Jin was starting to look a lot more like a tragedy now.

In an emotionally fueled rampage, you suddenly yanked your phone back out of your pocket. Your fingers slammed into the keyboard over and over again, not giving yourself enough time to think twice about what you’d typed out until after you hit send.

You: hey. can we talk?

You were sick and tired of competing for the title of who could act like they cared less… you just wanted Jin back. Although you might be stubborn, you liked it better when the two of you were on the same side, and you were more than willing to lay your armor down if he would admit that he’d rather love than fight.

Sighing, you turned your screen off once more, sliding your phone into your pocket. The battle was in his hands now, so there was no point in letting this ruin the rest of your night.

Jin’s heart was beating a million times a minute as he stared at his phone screen, reading the text message from you over and over again. All he had to do was reply to the four simple words, but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to respond.

The question really only required a one-word response, so why was this so hard? Was he scared of the conversation that would inevitably follow? The chance of having his heart broken? Or was he, deep down, still trying to pretend like nothing was really wrong?

There were thousands of thoughts racing through Jin’s mind as he continued to stare at the screen, wishing there was a way to express what he was feeling. He had so many things to tell you, but he didn’t know how, and he was sure that if he stared for even a second longer he might shut down.

“Everything okay, dude?” Hoseok put a hand on Jin’s shoulder, throwing his friend a concerned glance, “You seem a little out of it.”

“Y-Yeah,” Jin locked his phone after sending a quick reply, sliding it into his pocket with only a moment’s hesitation, “I’m good.”

Jinnie: sure. let’s call later tonight.

a/n; this is a day early bc i love jin & i’m high on that mots:7 juice right now. sorry for the angst & messy writing. but i wrote this in like an hour with no editing and hey, at least there’s implied fluff at the end, right??

— masterlist —

© ughseoks 2020, all rights reserved. do NOT modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.