#how are you going to refuse to let me give family sharing to a newly created account

[cerealxperimentslain]

ID: a screenshot of a steam support message:

“Hello,

Thank you for that information. We understand how you feel.

Steam Families is intended for a household of up to 6 close family members, and our data could not confirm that this is the case. Steam Support is not able to provide specific details to users on how the restriction works.

All the available information around this feature can be found in this Blog post.

I am sorry but Steam Support will be unable to assist with removal of the restriction. As we will not be able to accommodate your request and have no further information to provide on this topic, we will be closing the ticket at this time.

Steam Support

Roland”

End ID.

guys i think monopolies are bad actually. has anyone ever thought of that. monopolies might be bad for user experience

[luffysinterlude]

here with some of my oc’s backstory!! (i love her) / (warnings: ooc!doffy & sengoku, oc’s mother (x rosinante), timeline might be off (i envision her to be 21/22 post time-skip), brother!law x oc) / (note: i mention cupid having dark hair, but that’s about it. you could imagine it from a reader’s perspective as well!! not really sure how i envision cupid yet, just her fits)

(inspired from this one moment where i was sick in bed and let my imagination run wild.)

donquixote rosinante’s daughter cupid was to be kept a secret from the world.

he hadn’t known she existed until she was five, through a letter that held tear stains and smeared ink. his one and only ex-lover from the east blue had fallen ill and had a month to live. in less than three weeks later, corazon finds himself standing in front of a newly added gravestone, a small dark-haired girl sleeping peacefully in his arms.

i promise i’ll keep her safe. she is your legacy. thank you for trusting her with me, i’m sorry we missed the chance to be a family and i’m not sure if i’ll ever be able to get over losing someone so great. i’ll make sure she grows up the way you want her to. i’ll see you in the next life, my beautiful alia.

when sengoku found corazon sitting in his office with a child in his lap, he nearly had a heart attack. corazon explained the situation…even letting some of his feelings slip. when sengoku pried about the mother, he thought he’d died and resurrected on the spot. monkey d. alia…a familiar name, someone he’d watch grow up with his adopted son. he wasn’t upset though; he and garp had raised them both to be young naval commanders. although alia had suddenly disappeared six years ago and garp refused to tell anyone his daughter’s whereabouts, he was proud of them, a warmth swelling in his chest.

yet his blood ran cold as he realized he shared a granddaughter with garp. he made a mental note to ask garp if he had any idea and if so, why he didn’t feel the need to tell him.

sengoku agreed to keep the child a secret, but only if he was allowed to raise the girl and train her to be a marine. corazon hesitated a bit; not wanting his adoptive father to shove his views of justice down his daughter’s throat, but he trusted sengoku enough, nodding his head at the idea. he promised her he’ll stop by every chance he had.

unbeknownst to them, a certain man sat just below the open window..smiling at the precious news from his little brother.

within just a year, sengoku watched so much potential grow in cupid, she was such a strong girl who seemed to excel in everything he put her through. for a six year old, she had more self-discipline than most marines. she never gave up and proved herself every time.

so imagine the feeling he gets when his oldest son pays him a visit, asking for a favor. doflamingo has never been forgiving; a silent threat in the air as he demanded a warlord position and custody of cupid. sengoku silently prays for corazon’s mercy and gives him want he wants with not much of a fight, only asking that cupid never ends up dead or on a bounty poster.

corazon’s heart shatters as he hears the words fall from sengoku’s mouth. tears welled in his eyes at the sudden wave of grief that hit him, a small amount of anger bubbling under his skin. he told me he wouldn’t hurt her. cora clenched his eyes shut at the words, an image of both cupid and alia flashing through his mind. his decision was then made:

i’ll go undercover. i made a promise to alia and i won’t let him be the reason i break it…and i’ll stop whatever madness doffy has planned.

x+x

hearing the news that her father was joining her on the numancia, cupid allowed her mind to ease. she trusted and loved her father to take care of her, and stuck to him like a parasite. you’ll never be alone, he told her. i’ll always be with you.

some time passes and cupid quickly becomes a main asset to the donquixote family. she’s always being watched by doflamingo though; something she noticed the minute she stepped foot aboard. he didn’t have to be present for her to feel his strong gaze. she trained restlessly, sometimes in secret so her dad wouldn’t scold her. she wanted to be as strong as her parents…maybe even stronger.

she soon meets a boy named Law, her interest in him beginning when he shows up seeking refuge in the family, saying he doesn’t have much time to live; words she’s heard before. she soon finds herself following him around the ship, observing him and trying to help him get away her father…

one day though, she feels a familiar pain in her chest: her father was taking Law around the world in hopes to find a doctor that’ll heal him. she cried silently as she eavesdropped on the quiet conversation between the two brothers, her heart desperately wanting to go, but she knew doflamingo would never allow that.

that night, she stares out into the dark sky, searching for a ray of hope; for herself, her (new) brother, and her father. even though she was a child, she was able to piece together her uncle’s plans for dressrosa. she’s always been able to read people’s next move and sometimes hear their thoughts — something she noticed when her grandfather sengoku trained her alongside marines — yet around those she trusted and loved, she never felt the need to.

the day Law and Corazon parted ways with the family, she hid in her room—she had told them she’d see them again, a stern look in her eyes. she formulated an escape plan to follow the two, one that involved a lot of thought: every second matters, i can’t fail.

when the news that cupid had suddenly disappeared a month exactly after the departure of Law and Corazon, and just before her birthday, doflamingo could only laugh. he knew Corazon was smart enough not to break a promise with him, so the thought of a nine year old girl somehow being smart enough to escape from him drove him insane.

you’ll come back to me eventually. just because you’re blood, i’ll allow you to escape this once. consider us even, rosi…because your life is mine once i find you.

+x+

here’s my vivre card! don’t tell anyone i’m giving this to you, it’s our secret.

the warm voice of her father clouded cupid’s mind as she stared at the small paper in her hand, the freezing temperature suddenly causing her arms to wrap around her body. a familiar voice caused her to untuck her chin from her chest, yet when she looked, nobody was near.

it’s been almost six months since Law and Corazon began their journey. a part of her wishes that her father had tried harder to include her in their search, but she knew that he only wanted to keep her safe. she also knew that by leaving, he would suffer more.

she figures that by now doflamingo had figured out cora’s secret. she prayed every night hoping the evil man didn’t beat her to them, and so far he hasn’t. yet that thought alone made her move her legs just a bit quicker in the thick snow, fighting against strong winds.

a tall pink silhouette caught her eye as she was beginning to feel tired, a small burst of adrenaline causing her to run towards the figure. she tried using her haki — a term she learned about after confiding to baby 5 about her power sources — to hear what they were talking about, but using it at a distance isn’t something she learned yet.

and so she did the next best thing she could think of:

“DAAAAAAAAAAAD!! LAAAAAAAAAW!!”

corazon froze in his spot when he suddenly felt his daughter’s presence in the surrounding area. neither of the males could hear her voice due to corazon’s devil fruit power, but the wide-eyed look on law’s face as his eyes traveled behind cora’s head caused law to slightly panic.

“she’s behind me, isn’t she…?” corazon spoke. his head hung low, his eyes clenching shut as he grit his teeth. he should be angry. angry at cupid for acting on impulse and following them. angry at cupid for leaving his brother’s ship without thinking of the consequences she’d face. instead, he chuckles. its a light-hearted chuckle, an image of alia popping up in his head.

law nodded, still in a slight panic and shock. he was happy to see his sister again, but he was hoping that the next time they met was when he was fully healed and recovered. in a way, cupid reminded him of lami; he thinks it’s because of how she clung to him like they’ve known each other for their entire lives, or how she’s the only other person (after cora) he trusts.

+x+

“you understand, don’t you cupid?” she does, but wishes she didn’t.

cupid was speechless; she wants to scream at her father for getting himself into trouble, the sense of danger continuing to grow with every second. she wants to beg her father to take her and law and leave immediately, she just reunited with them both, she doesn’t want to leave this land without the two of them alive.

her loving, protective father, was going to give his life in exchange for her and law.

whether her brother was aware of this or not, it was going to happen. she knew her father didn’t have it in him to kill the man, and even after she tried convincing him to let her be a distraction while the two got away, he refused.

tears welled in cupid’s eyes as she realized that this was it. the long time of waiting for her father to finally come back for her, has gone down the drain. the four years she has spent knowing him has felt like two days. both of her parents have sacrificed themselves for good reasons, and the thought makes her angry. she wants to destroy all the evil people in the world for causing pain to those she loves — including those who’ve caused harm to Law — and make them suffer. she cries uncontrollably, the cold air around her disappearing due to the heat rising in her body.

the look on his daughter’s face broke his heart. cupid was a perfect mix of him and alia; a reminder of the love that once bloomed between the two, a period of time where cora felt nothing but bliss. alia was a major inspiration to him, both as a human-being and a marine, and he prays that alia isn’t too harsh on him when they meet again.

her name’s Cupid. i named her after the god of love, because she’s so full of it and she reminds me of the love we shared share. she’s a bit shy at first, but as soon as she warms up to you she can be a bit much to handle. she likes to observe everything: people, animals, places…she’s a very adventurous being, and through that, i think she’s unlocked part of her observation haki. she’s only five, yet she’s so strong and so smart.

please, as a dying wish of mine, do not let her be forced into anything she doesn’t want to do. let her grow into her own person. i’ve been thinking more about our fathers’ ways of living…and i can’t imagine a soul like hers serving people like them. i have a strong feeling that cupid will be a big threat to both the government and pirates alike.

she’s always been special; this whole island loves her. at first i thought maybe it’s due to my dad’s reputation, but i’ve come to find out it’s just because of her spirit and humanity. she’ll make history one day. she knows i don’t have much time left, and she’s been so understanding. i can tell with every passing day that she’s trying to make this time more enjoyable and peaceful for me. she also knows about our separation and all about you, and she says she’s excited for the day for the two of you to meet — it’s kind of some sort of bragging right for her.

please, take good care of our cupid. one day she’ll understand the importance of her life, but as for now, she’s too young. attached below is some ways to contact my brother and his colleagues, they’re trustworthy people and dragon owes me one. if you ever need to contact them, please do so for any reason. be safe, rosinante. as long as cupid is alive, so is our love.

corazon was prepared for his death the moment he decided to go undercover. he had written dragon a long, long letter, explaining to him the situation that he’s in. as long as cora stays alive long enough to carry law and cupid to safety, his mission ends then, and he can rest peacefully (while hoping his body is found). silencing both children, he hides them in a wooden box, waiting for doflamingo to finally find him again.

+x+

“you’ll both be safe here. and,” corazon took yet another, bloodied, deep breath; his eyes bouncing between both of his kids, desperately hoping that in his next life he remembers their faces. “i love you.”

the last memory cupid has of her father is one that’s bloody, gruesome, and heartbreaking. but the words he spoke to her are engraved in her mind.

as long as she remembers she’s loved, this life is worth continuing to live.

+x+

★ an: i still have sooo many more ideas for cupid’s backstory (involving cora and alia) but for now i’ll settle for this. please let me know what i could work on!! i’m still getting back into the groove of writing :p

[archivedazmenka]

[ lady abrogail. ]

[@azmenka sent]: ❝ i see a dozen men here ready to leap on each other’s throats. ❞ A semi-plotted meme starter for you!

Court had proved far more interesting since Aegon took the Throne. His nerves had almost gotten the best of him but something about the fealty and perceived adoration he was receiving meant the world wasn’t going to end any time soon. She much enjoyed watching the proceedings from the upper gallery, where it was quiet and no one was the wiser to her observations. It wasn’t like she was needed down there, and since Daemon Targaryen had bisected Vaemond’s head.

She really didn’t want to be sprayed with viscera ever again. The dress had been ruined.

The footsteps were quiet as they joined her, and she looked over to see the newly arrived Maron Greyjoy find his way up onto the balcony. She held a finger to her smiling mouth, indicating for quiet. “You don’t want your voice to carry,” she whispered, angling her head closer to his to be heard. The arrival of the Greyjoy lord had been unexpected. Yes, the offer of his position on the Small Council was known, but Abrogail knew how up in the air the follow through could be. He’d surprised her, and most others, she thought. The Islanders were portrayed as a ruthless, brutish lot and it wasn’t unfounded. But Maron wasn’t like what one would expect a man of Pyke to be, and she found that very intriguing. He could read, for one, and seemed keen on hearing what needed to be said, even if he had the undeniable smirk and spark of mischief in his eyes that she well recognized in Aemond’s. No wonder Aemond had taken a liking to him.

This was her first time actually speaking with him properly, up in a gallery with no chaperones no less, but the young woman was not bothered by it. Like she said, sound would carry, and she was told she had a very loud scream. “Apple?” she offered, tugging the cloth on her basket of pilfered kitchen treats to give her new companion a choice at the taking. There were fresh berry tarts and lemon cakes. Little marchpane figures in various states of broken mess. Then a couple apples she’d snagged. “I’d asked the kitchens to let me know when the Dornish pomegranate shipment comes. Those are divine,” she shared, as if it were the state secret.

To his point, she hummed. “They’re all so anxious. I don’t like violence, but I’d almost wish they’d start throwing punches already and get it out of their system so we can be done with it. Is it like that in your council meetings?” She brushed some crumbs from the pale blue silk of her skirt, her abundances of red curls contained in a net of silver, although a stubborn escapee curled against her cheek.

      LIFE TOOK UNEXPECTED TURNS EVERY NOW AND THEN ; decades of peace and quiet might easily be followed by sudden turmoil and family issues throwing an entire country into war, it seemed. the crack separating the kingdoms ran deep already, splitting families apart until, eventually, everyone would be ready to leap at someone else’s throat. reason enough for most to weep and tremble in fear           but not for a Greyjoy. madness lived in the Ironborn, or so it was said. a different kind than the Targaryen one ; something shared amongst all the wretched people living on those harsh, uninviting slaps of rock in the middle of the sea, that caused them to smile at the sight of a nearing storm, and chased them all out onto the waters to see who might win. when the Lord Reaper had received a raven from the capital, carrying an invitation by the newly crowned king himself, he had almost cracked a rib from laughing, and thrown the damned letter into the fire. and yet, here he was .  .  . too curious to resist.        for a fortnight, Maron had refused to bend the knee to Aegon. respectfully so, ever light-hearted, smiling at threats and reason in a most infuriating and yet oddly charming manner, until he eventually had made up his mind            and when the Lord Reaper had arrived at the capital, the city had held its breath. almost half the Iron Fleet had rounded the coast ; over seventy ships, massive in build, all of them sporting black sails with the golden kraken printed upon them, had spanned the entire horizon as far as the eye had seen. all of it built and kept by the man now stepping upon the balcony. much younger than most had anticipated, given the reputation Maron had built in the past decade, yet few had come to lordship aged only thirteen .  .  .

      court was in session, and Maron, with a smile upon his lips, simply mirrored the Lady Strong’s gesture with a nod. she was right ; these halls were lofty enough for every whisper to be carried. not quite ideal if one wished to merely be a passive spectator of the mummer’s farce happening below. it appeared he wasn’t the only one            and his companion seemed to have made it a habit, snacks included. he chuckled quietly, accepting an apple with a polite nod of the head. “ I see you’re well prepared. not quite sure if that should concern me, though. ” it appeared she had settled in to stay for a while. and below, Aegon already looked like he had wished to leave five minutes ago.        ocean blue eyes curiously watched the proceedings below, but his attention remained with the young girl at his side ; the ever present smile ( it seemed ) on his lips growing but a little wider at her question. “ not yet, but here is to hoping. ” he had brought boldness and a touch of audacity into these halls. an agent of chaos, invited by the very man shifting on that uncomfortable monstrosity of a chair below. Tyland Lannister, now Master of Coin, had already declared him insufferable after Maron had told him the new position was far more fitting            considering that Lannisters, historically, were far less likely to lose money than they were to lose ships. “ I don’t believe I have ever seen a group of people who so very obviously wished they were anywhere but where they are. it is quite entertaining, I must admit. ” and he, perhaps, was the only one who found it funny.      he glanced at the young girl then, entirely amiable and harmless. “ you seem quite comfortable though. a habit of yours, I assume? ”

[@azmenka sent]: ❝ i see a dozen men here ready to leap on each other’s throats. ❞ A semi-plotted meme starter for you!

Court had proved far more interesting since Aegon took the Throne. His nerves had almost gotten the best of him but something about the fealty and perceived adoration he was receiving meant the world wasn't going to end any time soon. She much enjoyed watching the proceedings from the upper gallery, where it was quiet and no one was the wiser to her observations. It wasn't like she was needed down there, and since Daemon Targaryen had bisected Vaemond's head.

She really didn't want to be sprayed with viscera ever again. The dress had been ruined.

The footsteps were quiet as they joined her, and she looked over to see the newly arrived Maron Greyjoy find his way up onto the balcony. She held a finger to her smiling mouth, indicating for quiet. "You don't want your voice to carry," she whispered, angling her head closer to his to be heard. The arrival of the Greyjoy lord had been unexpected. Yes, the offer of his position on the Small Council was known, but Abrogail knew how up in the air the follow through could be. He'd surprised her, and most others, she thought. The Islanders were portrayed as a ruthless, brutish lot and it wasn't unfounded. But Maron wasn't like what one would expect a man of Pyke to be, and she found that very intriguing. He could read, for one, and seemed keen on hearing what needed to be said, even if he had the undeniable smirk and spark of mischief in his eyes that she well recognized in Aemond's. No wonder Aemond had taken a liking to him.

This was her first time actually speaking with him properly, up in a gallery with no chaperones no less, but the young woman was not bothered by it. Like she said, sound would carry, and she was told she had a very loud scream. "Apple?" she offered, tugging the cloth on her basket of pilfered kitchen treats to give her new companion a choice at the taking. There were fresh berry tarts and lemon cakes. Little marchpane figures in various states of broken mess. Then a couple apples she'd snagged. "I'd asked the kitchens to let me know when the Dornish pomegranate shipment comes. Those are divine," she shared, as if it were the state secret.

To his point, she hummed. "They're all so anxious. I don't like violence, but I'd almost wish they'd start throwing punches already and get it out of their system so we can be done with it. Is it like that in your council meetings?" She brushed some crumbs from the pale blue silk of her skirt, her abundances of red curls contained in a net of silver, although a stubborn escapee curled against her cheek.

[valberryy]

oh, eurydice (it's an awful sound). — venti

de l'autre côté de l'eau, comme un écho. / tu dis que c'est la fin du monde, c'est ton silence mon eau profonde.

um,, idk what to say cause i dont want this to b my venti summoning post but. anyways. also tagging @starfell-traveler look i finished it!!!! b proud of me /hj

pairing: venti x gn!reader

content warnings: mentions/descriptions of alcohol & blood/injuries, major character death, it's just heavy angst i'm sorry

one.

Venti still remembers the first time he heard you laugh, warm and clear and bright, like the chiming of cathedral-bells.

In those golden days when he was getting used to his new face, he often found himself wandering—much to the chagrin of his friends. If he wasn't in one of the many taverns of the newly-built Mondstadt, he was wandering these new, free lands.

And that was how he met you, the spritely scion of house Gunnhildr, who had strayed away from your envoy with a bottle of wine and leaves in your hair. He noted the mischief dancing in your eyes, the sunlight dappling on your skin, the way your mouth formed a small "o" when you saw you were not alone.

Your eyes had lit up when you caught sight of him. "Oh, my lord!" you called, "Fancy a cup and a chat, perhaps?"

Venti stood still for a moment to ponder your request, but at the sound of you popping the cork off the bottle and pouring it into a cup you had brought, he found his resolve weakening. He took a seat next to you as you pulled a stray leaf from your hair, taking a sip from your cup before passing it to him.

How brazen of you, he mused.

While cherry wine, in his opinion, could never hold a candle to the dandelion wine he had grown fond of, it tasted all the sweeter coming from you.

You had laughed at this sentiment of his, clear as the water from the lake nearby. "Is that so?" you asked. "Perhaps I'll bring some more of this kind especially for you, dearest bard."

Venti responded with a playful pluck at his lyre-strings. "I'd prefer if you called me by my name, young master Gunnhildr."

"And what would that be?"

Just as he was about to respond, the two of you caught wind of voices yelling out your name, and you flinched. "That must be for me," you said. "I shouldn't have expected to be able to hide forever."

He helped you stand, stretching out his arm to pull you up—your hand was soft and warm against his own, and the "thank you," that rolled from your lips made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to.

"I'd love to see you again," you said, and he smiled.

"You talk as if this is goodbye forever!" Venti joked. "We can meet here again, if you so wish."

"Then it is done," you said, and squeezed his hand as if in confirmation of your new arrangement.

And with the lightest press of your wine-stained lips to his cheek, you had run off without another word—only the sound of your distant laughter and, "Sorry, sorry! I'm back now, mother!" left in your wake.

two.

That promise had soon become habit, and habit a new way of life—one wherein you would sneak away from the rest of your family to rendezvous with Venti in the forest, to share wine and song and sweet, honeyed words alike.

(And as time wore on, you pressed your wine-stained lips to more places than just his cheek, and the cheeky bastard would have you do it again, and again, and again.)

"What d'you reckon your family would say if they figured out you were sneaking away for this?" Venti mused, "Like a hero in a romance novel."

With a laugh, you lay your head over his lap and smiled when his hand came to rest in your hair, his fingers gently playing with the strands. "Scold me, I suppose," you said. "There are worse fates than not being allowed outside for a month, my love." 

You plucked a stray dandelion out of his hair, blowing the seeds to the wind. 

"Hmm? And what would those be, I wonder?"

"...You're so infuriating, Venti," you grumbled, and he simply laughed and took another sip of wine—elderflower this time, tasting like spring upon his tongue. "I can't even dare imply that I want to be with you forever without you teasing me for it—what kind of lover are you? Hmph."

He paused, a teasing grin growing on his lips despite your previous words. "Are you asking me to marry you?"

An odd noise left your throat. "I mean," you said, "unless you want me to take your surname instead? ...Now that I think about it, Venti Gunnhildr doesn't quite sound the best."

A laugh, first from him, soon followed by one of your own. "Your family won't allow it, would they? But if the fates allow…there's nothing I'd love more than to be with you," he said. Gently he untangled his fingers from your hair, weaving his fingers between your own instead. "That is, if you want it too?"

A world of just you and him, a life where he would never have to stray far from your side—perhaps this was what Amos so desperately craved for, in those days. Venti watched as you removed the signet ring from your pointer finger and fit it snugly on his own, admiring your handiwork and smiling up at him.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

three.

Somehow it felt odd to see you in clothes other than the casual attire he had always seen you in. When you were seated upon your horse like this, dressed in richly-dyed leathers and embroidered silks with your family crest hanging proudly from your breast pocket, you seemed much less like the cheeky [Name] that would pluck his lyre from his hands to play your own tune, and more like the young scion of house Gunnhildr that the rest of the world saw you as.

"I'm sorry, dearest," you said, your voice thick with regret. "They only told me about this last night, so I've had no time to tell you… And father wouldn't let me refuse, so—"

Venti laughed, "When did you become such a worrywart? It's only one round of hunting, right? I'll be waiting for you back here."

You huffed, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Then I'll be sure to hurry on back to you."

He pulled you back down for another kiss, square on the lips this time, before letting you go. "Don't miss!" he said, calling after your horse, to which you turned and yelled back at him,

"If I do, it's your fault!"

He laughed, settling down beneath a tree and closing his eyes. You'd be there to wake him when you returned.

When Venti awoke, it was not to your hand shaking his shoulder but to a thud and the worried whinnying of a horse. His eyes snapped open as you groaned, one hand clutching your stomach and the other propping you up. When you caught his gaze you smiled weakly, too much blood in your teeth and not enough light in your eyes.

"I'm back, dearest," you said, and he had stumbled over to catch you before your arm gave out.

He pressed down on your torso, where three large gashes ran down from your chest down to your stomach, large and jagged as if from the claws of a bear. You groaned in pain and he pressed a kiss to your hand in apology, your skin pale and clammy in a way that reminded him too much of harsh, cold winds and a boy with his lyre. 

"You should've seen me, Venti," you breathed, "I shot it right in the throat…are you proud of me?"

"Very," he said. "I'll always be proud of you."

You laughed, broken and pained and sad. "Good," you said, "good." Then you looked up at him, the tears welling in his eyes, the reality of his fate—your fate—finally looming upon him. "Don't look at me like that, love," you cooed. "Please, smile for me, okay? Sing for me…can you spare me at least that much?"

His grip on your hand tightened. "All of that and so much more, dandelion," he said. "Please…"

"So much more, huh…" you mused. "Then, how about one last kiss before I go?"

"...You talk as if this is goodbye," he says, but doesn't protest when you pull him down by the collar, your red-stained lips pressing weakly against his—

—But instead of the sweetness of wine, there was only the sharp bitterness of your blood in his mouth.

four.

"How far would you go for me?" was something Venti had thrown around a lot, never expecting you to give him a straight answer—not with how you shoved his shoulder and said, "Just because there wasn't a ceremony doesn't mean I'm not your spouse, Venti. Wouldn't the answer be obvious?"

But he still recalled the first time he had asked you and the first time you answered, your fingers tangled with his and your head buried in the crook of his neck. Your voice had been softer, gentler, lacking the playful edge but just as genuine as always, "From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest to the highest peaks in the sky," you said, "Until my hands wither away into dust."

"Maybe you're the bard instead of me, love," he had said, then.

In this new world without you he found himself clinging to whatever remnants of you he could—the dappled sunlight in the forest, the slightest sting of alcohol going down, the glint of your family crest on the ring that adorned his finger.

One of his many laments was how he could never mourn you in the way he felt you deserved—he had not the power to turn back time, lacked the dominion over anything static and permanent to immortalise you with. He only had his lyre and his voice and his winds, and all he could do was paint the skies grey in his grief, have the gales sing requiems that you would never hear.

From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest peaks in the sky he would go for you and back—and if the darkest depths of this world contained the secret to getting you back, perhaps even a mere spirit on the wind could bear the trek through the dark. 

(After all, Venti knew in his heart of hearts that you would have done the same for him.)

The heart of the Abyss wasn't a land of mindless bloodshed and fire—it was cold and calculating, like a predator lying in wait. It was this place, in the depths of Teyvat and in the winding depths of their palace, that he knew could somehow bring you back to him. 

"Are you the one for whom the skies wept, bard?"

Venti swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I am," he said. "I want a deal."

The person before him raised an eyebrow, canting their head to the side. 

"One life," they said, "and no second chances."

Cold, and calculating, and inevitable—but still he would try. Venti owed you at least that much, no?

five.

He squeezed your hand as you trailed behind him, muttering to himself: don't look back, don't look back, don't look back. No matter how much he longed to hold you, to see your face and feel your skin beneath his, he kept his gaze to his feet as you both moved onwards into the dark.

(When he saw you again, just as beautiful as the day he lost you, he dropped his lyre to run into your arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck and surrounding himself with only you, you, you. 

"Venti," you said, and he nearly wept at the way his name rolled from your tongue. "Let's go home.")

You squeezed his hand back, so gently that he almost couldn't believe you were really there. "Why don't you sing me a song, dearest?" you quipped. "Anything you like."

In spite of himself, in spite of the cold around him and behind him and in his own hand, he smiled. "Have I ever sung you the one with the mist flower and the sparrow?"

He heard you huff behind him. "That one again? You know how bad I am at hitting the notes in that!"

"Hmm, sure, sounds like an excuse to me…"

"Venti!"

He laughed and squeezed your hand again, as if to remind himself—you were here, and he was taking you home, and you would be able to feel the sun on your skin and taste wine from his cup in the way you had always loved. He would be able to write you songs and guide your hands across his lyre, and he need never stray far from your side.

You need never go somewhere where he couldn't follow.

"We're almost there," he said, resisting the urge to turn around to smile at you. "There's a bottle of wine waiting for us. It wouldn't do us any good to leave it for too long, you know?"

He squeezed your hand again, but you didn't respond.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. His footsteps hastened, quicker and quicker until he was near-running towards where he knew the surface lay. Had he been tricked? Were you never there all along? Had you gotten lost, or fallen, or left, and left some other person in your stead?

Anxiety clutched at his heart like brambles, and Venti found his mind wandering back to those days with the wintery winds and the friends he had lost to the storms. Not again, he prayed, please, never again.

He ran until his legs ached, ran until the first drop of sunlight finally kissed his skin, and he let go of your hand to turn around—

—to see your face still shrouded in darkness, your eyes wide, your hand still reaching out for him.

"What?" he breathed, "No, please, I can't lose you again—"

You smiled, and though your teeth weren't coated in blood and your body was free from any wounds, Venti's heart had sunk even further than when he had caught you that day. 

"No, love, please, I'm sorry—"

"Venti," you said, "I'll see you again soon, okay?"

"Please—"

"I love you." 

With whatever time you had left, you reached out further to brush the tips of your fingers against his cheek. "Smile for me, okay? Sing me one last song…" 

And before he could reach out to you again, you had once again gone somewhere he couldn't reach. 

(Yours was a song he sang without end, even when all of Mondstadt had forgotten your name—and even when he felt like he didn't deserve to bear your memory. 

On days when he uncorked a bottle of cherry wine or caught the Acting Grandmaster's eye, Venti found himself staring down at the ring you had placed on his finger in those golden days—and if he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to it the way you had done to him, he swears he can still hear your laugh, warm and clear and bright.)

[the-bau-quinjet]

A Song For You

Steve Rogers x Singer!Reader

Summary: Snippets of Steve and Reader's life together as she sings a song she wrote for him.

Warnings: mention of car accident, parents dying, mostly just fluff though

Word Count: 6413

a/n: this is a mess, but I'm happy with it. It's basically a series of blurbs that are not in chronological order so I could follow the song. It's inspired by Like My Father by Jax. :) Sorry if it's confusing, hopefully it all makes sense at the end

Masterlist

Steve had been gone for months on a mission. It wasn’t often his missions lasted that long, so of course one of the few times it happened Y/N needed to tell him something important.

She shook off the annoyance as she got ready for Tony’s gala. He wanted to celebrate the successful mission as soon as Steve and Bucky came home. Of course, everyone tried to reason with him that waiting would be better so that the two super soldiers wouldn’t be exhausted, but Tony refused to listen to logic.

“Nonsense. We’re having the party as soon as they arrive.” He stated matter-of-factly before turning to Y/N. “And you, my dear, are going to sing.”

“Tony, maybe you could at least pretend to phrase it as a question?” Pepper scolded, eyeing the woman in question apologetically.

“Sorry. Will you sing at my party?” He grinned, knowing Y/N would say yes since Tony probably already told everyone she would be performing.

“Tony, you’re a menace.” She eyed him before nodding.

“I am, and you’re wonderful!” He exclaimed. “I happen to know you’ve been working on a new song. Care to sing it for Steve at the party?” He grinned.

“I don’t know how you know about that song, but fine. I think he would like it. Avengers only though! I’ll sing something else for all the guests.”

She rolled her eyes at the memory as she finished getting ready. Luckily she was ready early because Tony came running into the room in a panic.

“He’s here!” Tony’s smile widened as he thought about the nights events. “Let’s go!” He practically pulled her from the room, far too eager to share news that wasn’t his.

Tony had Y/N set up on stage right in time for Bucky and Steve to arrive. She sat behind a piano, ready and waiting for Tony’s cue.

As the guests of honor entered the main ballroom, Tony stepped up to the microphone. Steve stared at Y/N with questioning eyes while ignoring Tony’s speech. She smiled lightly, shaking her head at Tony in an effort to explain.

Steve laughed to himself, wishing for nothing more than to hold her after a long 5 months away.

“Give it up for Y/N L/N!” Tony’s introduction came to a close, signaling for her to start playing. It really was over the top considering he was only introducing her to the people who have become family to her, but she let him do his thing.

“Thanks, Tony.” She smiled fondly at Steve before introducing the song. “I wrote this song for someone special. As you all know, my parents died in a car accident a few years ago. Don’t worry, the song’s not that sad.” She earned a few laughs from her friends before she continued. “Ever since I was little, I wanted a love like theirs. It seemed so magical. Well, I found that love.” She smiled at Steve again.

“This one is called Like My Father.” With the name of the song announce, she started singing. Her eyes never left Steve’s.

I wanna come home to roses

Today had been the day from hell for Y/N. First, she woke up late due to accidentally setting her alarm for 6 pm instead of 6 am. She rushed to get out of the tower on time, only for the subway line she was supposed to take to be closed for repairs, making rushing a complete waste since she was going to be late anyway.

In her haste to leave on time, she forwent breakfast which only made her more irritable. By the time she made it to the studio, she had missed her morning meeting and had to play catchup.

The day only got worse from there. Something went wrong with every song she was meant to work on. Sometimes it was a small thing, like a guitar being out of tune. Other times, the song just didn’t feel right. No matter how many different ideas she tried to work on, she just kept running in circles.

By lunch, she was ready to give up and just go home. Unfortunately, her label was having a meeting to discuss progress for the next album’s lead single. So instead, she tried to cheer herself up with her favorite lunch. Just when she was sitting down to eat, someone bumped into her and spilled the entire meal onto the floor.

Suffice to say, by the end of the day, she was ready to collapse into her boyfriend’s arms and sleep the weekend away. However, her boyfriend was currently on a mission out saving the world, so not even he would be able to lift her spirits this time.

She trudged down the hall toward their shared apartment, eager to take a shower and lay down. It wouldn’t be as comforting without Steve, but it was still better than nothing. Finally reaching the door, she turned the key and shoved her way inside. Instantly, she stopped in her tracks.

The scent of tomato sauce filled the air. The soft sounds of Steve’s old music floated through the air, further adding to the welcoming atmosphere. She stood frozen, eyes filling with tears when Steve noticed her. He smiled, too far away to notice the tears, before turning around to get something from the counter. He held whatever it was in both hands behind his back as he walked up to her, a frown slowly forming as he noticed her expression.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, hands instantly moving around his body to hold her only to be impaired by a beautiful bouquet of white and peach colored roses. Her tears fell despite her smile. She eagerly took the flowers, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” She took a few deep breaths, calming herself before leaning back to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve replied easily. “Do you want to talk about it?” Despite not knowing exactly what happened, Steve could tell she had a bad day.

She shook her head, her small smile growing as she inhaled the scent of the roses. “No, I just want to be with you.” She leaned further into the embrace, relishing in the comfort Steve always provided.

“That can be arranged.” Steve smiled, carrying her to the couch to eat.

And dirty little notes on post-its

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Steve left for his mission and Y/N was still finding his notes around their shared apartment. Every time she added a newly found note to the box, she read through all the previous notes as well. It never failed to cheer her up.

Most of them were simple comments about how much he loved her. Little sayings like “I love you to the moon and back” or “My love for you is as endless as space.” Despite the cheesiness, she couldn’t help but smile with each new note found.

But this newest note was… different. The 21 words scrawled on a bright blue post-it had her flushing instantly.

“I miss the way you feel pressed up against me, can’t wait to come home and pin you against the wall”

Suffice to say, Steve couldn’t come home soon enough.

And when my hair starts turning gray, he’ll say I’m like a fine wine better with age.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was flat as she emerged from their shared bedroom dressed for another one of Tony’s galas. Steve turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“What? You look amazing.” He smirked when she blushed.

“Steve. I just found a gray hair.” She pouted, holding the offending piece of hair between her thumb and pointer. “Is this what it feels like to be old?”

“You’re not old.” He chuckled at her dramatics. “And even when all of your hair is gray, I’ll love you even more. Like cheese…” He paused, trying to think of a better comparison. “And wine, you just get better with age.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes before moving to throw the hair away.

“I mean it. I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.” He smiled, a familiar fondness in his eyes. She moved closer to embrace him.

“I love you too.”

I guess I learned it from my parents, that true love starts with friendship.

She was nearly running down the street, doing her best to slow down the dog pulling her forward.

“Hudson! Stop!” She tried to speak calmly like her manager- the dog’s owner- instructed, but it was no use. Hudson would not stop running, no matter how hard she tried to make him. “Hudson!” She yelled his name again, surprised when he actually halted.

So surprised in fact, that she was still hurtling forwards, tripping over the now stationary animal. She braced herself for impact, eyes squeezing shut and hands sticking out to catch herself, only for the impact to never come. Instead, two warms hands caught her mid-fall.

Her eyes shot open, heart racing and breathing labored. The man who caught her helped her steady herself on her feet before letting go, smiling sheepishly.

“Thank you.” She breathed out, still taken aback by the turn of events.

“You’re welcome.” He replied kindly. “You’re dog’s pretty strong.” His grimace at his own awkwardness went unnoticed by her as she looked at the dog in question.

“My friends’ dog actually. I’m dog sitting this week.” She smiled, relieved to shift the topic of conversation from her to the dog. “He normally listens really well, but I guess he really wanted to get to the park. I’m Y/N, and this here is Hudson.”

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Steve.” He shook her hand, blushing slightly from the contact. Before she could reply, Hudson leaped at a squirrel, pulling her off balance again. Steve reached out to steady her again.

“Here, let me help.” He shifted the leash from her hand to his own, having a much easier time resisting Hudson’s pulling.

“Thank you… again.” She smiled.

The two walked around the park with Hudson every day that week, becoming fast friends. She wasn’t offended when he didn’t recognize her as one of the biggest names in music, just as he wasn’t offended it took three walks for her to realize he was that Steve Rogers.

They understood each other, despite the wild differences in occupation. Steve could easily relate to Y/N’s aversion to the media. Y/N knew what it felt like to have a team of people relying on you. The two just clicked, and thus a beautiful friendship was formed.

A kiss on the forehead. A date night.

“Hey Steve.” She greeted him warmly when they met up for their weekly coffee. He smiled, but didn’t verbally respond.

The two got their coffee, sitting at a table hidden towards the back. Steve’s replies were short, as if he was thinking of something else during their conversation. By the fifth comment of hers that he merely nodded his head or hummed in response too, Y/N decided to address it. “Are you okay?”

“Go out with me.” He replied quickly, eyes going wide when he realized what he said. Her own eyes widened in response, taken by surprise. “Sorry! I just, I mean- let me start over.” He pleaded, relief filling him when she nodded.

“We’ve been friends for a while now…” She nodded along, eyes still wide. “But, I want more. Let me take you to dinner. And not like we’ve been doing. Let me take you on a date?” He smiled nervously, hands fidgeting with the lid of his coffee cup.

“I’d like that.” She replied simply, unable to form a more complicated sentence due to the butterflies in her stomach.

“Yeah?” He released his breath, unaware he had been holding it. When she nodded, a wide smile appeared on his face. “Good. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.”

“You mean I have to wait?” She pouted playfully as they both stood up to leave. He laughed, moving his arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the cafe.

“Just until tomorrow.” He smiled fondly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before helping her into her car.

“Tomorrow then.” She smiled. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Fake an apology after a fight

“Y/N?” Steve questioned as he entered their apartment. He looked around, unsurprised to see her covered in blankets on the couch. “I’m sorry.” He tried for a small smile, knowing it was of no real use.

“No you’re not.” She pouted, rolling her eyes. “But I forgive you anyway.” She gestured for him to join her on the couch. He jumped at the chance, quickly moving to hold her close to him.

“I am sorry we fought.” He spoke up after a few minutes, still trying to clear the air.

“Me too. It was stupid.” She shook her head, cuddling closer to him. “I just don’t understand why you like it.” She made a face, grimacing at just the thought.

“It’s good! Pizza has really taken on a whole new life since the 30s.” Steve quipped, smiling when you laughed.

“That doesn’t mean pineapple is an okay topping.” She could fell herself getting worked up again, but ultimately the two burst into a fit of giggles. What a stupid fight.

I wanna road trip in the summers

“Steve! You were supposed to turn there!” Y/N laughed as Steve grumbled about the GPS and his preference for maps. “This is why you should’ve let me drive.”

“Nope, because then I couldn’t surprise you.” He smirked, briefly looking at her in the passenger seat.

“What surprise?” She smiled fondly, knowing he wouldn’t tell her.

“You’ll see. Now turn off the GPS, we’re not actually going home.”

Steve drove for the next few hours until the two arrived at a small house just off the beach in Maine. He pulled into the driveway, turning to find Y/N asleep with her head pressed against the window.

“Y/N, we’re here.” He smiled at her groggy state, laughing when her eyes lit up.

“Are we in Maine?” Her eyes filled with tears, a combination of nostalgia, Steve’s surprise, and residual sleepiness the cause.

“We are. As close as I could find to where you used to come when you were little.” He responded, a shy smile on his face. Despite how long they’d been together, Steve was always nervous about surprising her. “I talked to your manager, and you’ve got the weekend off. We’re going to just relax on the beach for three days.”

“It’s perfect.” She gave him a watery smile, pulling him from the back of his neck until her lips met his. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, just-“ Y/N cut him off with another kiss. It was passionate and heated despite the limited area for movement in the car.

“I love you.” She breathed out the words quickly, but meant it with her whole being. “I love you so much. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Tears still burned in her eyes, but the overwhelming happiness she felt made it worth it.

Steve looked shocked at her proclamation, but quickly recovered. “I love you too. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” Y/N knew exactly what he meant with those words, and it filled her with so much happiness she thought she might combust. He kissed her again, and again, and again.

They shared a few more quick pecks before finally getting out of the car.

I wanna make fun of each other

Meeting Steve’s friends was nerve wracking for a multitude of reasons.

Steve was the only person Y/N had outside of her career. All of her friends were somehow tied to her music, except Steve. Her parents died a few years ago, and she didn’t have any other family. If things went poorly with Steve’s friends, would he leave too?

Plus, all of his friends are superheroes. That’s an intimidating group of people to meet even if you aren’t trying to win them over so you can keep dating their friend.

“Just relax, they’re going to love you.” Steve whispered into her ear as the two rode the elevator up to the main residential floor. Steve did what he could to keep the event simple. It was just drinks with his friends, who happened to be Avengers.

“If you say so.” She smiled nervously, laughing to herself. Before Steve could reply with more words of encouragement, the elevator doors were opening. Steve lead her down the hall to a room that resembled a lounge in a fancy hotel. Bars lined two of the walls, a mixture of blue and white furniture sprinkled throughout the room.

“Ahh, here they are!” Tony Stark quickly rose from his seat, ready to meet the woman stealing away all of the Captain’s time.

“Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is-”

“Tony Stark, I know.” She quipped. In her stress to meet all of Steve’s friends, she forgot to mention that she had already met the billionaire. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” Steve questioned a the same time Tony recognized you. His jaw dropped as he turned back to Steve.

“We met at a fundraiser a few years ago-“ Tony jumped in before you could finish the explanation.

“You’re dating Y/N L/N? The Y/N L/N? Famous singer-songwriter, been topping the charts for years, Y/N L/N?” He balked, eyes rapidly flicking between Steve and Y/N.

“Um… yes?” Steve questioned Tony’s reaction, unsure why he was so surprised. “I told you her name already…” He shook his head, waiting for the teasing he knew was incoming.

“You didn’t mention it was actually her! I just thought it was someone with the same name!” Tony nearly yelled, still thrown off by the surprise.

“What’s going on over here?” Natasha walked up to the trio, one eyebrow lifted at all the noise.

“Y/N L/N!” Tony gestured to her. She nervously waved to Natasha, sticking her hand out in greeting.

“Nice to meet you.” She mumbled, one hand still holding Steve’s in a death grip.

“You too, I’m Natasha.” The two women shook hands, giving Tony time to finally find his words.

“I have to know, did Capsicle recognize you when you met?” Tony lead everyone back to the couches, foregoing the rest of the introductions to start pestering you with questions.

“I think he’s a bit outside of my target audience age wise. I don’t hold it against him.” Y/N replied, laughing when Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh snap, she just called you old.” Sam chimed in, reaching out a hand to introduce himself. “Sam Wilson.”

You smiled at him, introducing yourself as you shook his hand.

“Here’s the real question. Did you recognize him?” Bucky questioned, already knowing the answer. Steve introduced Y/N to Bucky early on in their friendship when Bucky followed him to one of their weekly coffee dates.

“Bucky, you already know the answer to that.” Y/N deadpanned, not eager to share her lack of knowledge on world events. Steve cut in to answer before Bucky could reply.

“She did not. Told me the name sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t place it.” Steve laughed as he teased you.

“You make me sound so stupid! I knew who Captain America was, I just didn’t realize it was you.” She huffed, annoyed with how quickly the tables turned.

Steve changed the topic by moving to introduce her to the rest of the avengers in attendance; Wanda, Vision, Thor, Clint, Bruce, and Peter.

Y/N continued to share stories with the group, laughing and joking at both her and Steve’s expense. Steve smiled fondly as he watched her interact with his friends, getting along just as well as he knew she would.

I wanna rock out to Billy Joel

“Stupid. All of these ideas are stupid. How am I supposed to put out another album when I can’t even write one decent song.” Y/N huffed to herself, unaware of Steve’s presence in the room.

He moved silently through the room as she continued writing down and crossing out ideas. Suddenly, the sound of Billy Joel’s We Didn’t Start the Fire filled the room.

“Steve?” She jumped at the noise, smiling when she found him next to the record player. “Billy Joel?’ She questioned.

“You played me this song after a bad mission. Told me to think about it whenever I needed a reminder that the world’s problems aren’t my fault. Thought it might help.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“I love you.” She got up from the couch, eager to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“I love you too.” He returned her hug, careful not to actually crush her bones.

The two of them spent the next few hours playing Billy Joel, dancing and singing around the apartment.

And flip our kids off when they call us old

“Okay, grandpa.” Sam chuckled.

“Hey! I’m the only one allowed to make fun of how old he is.” Y/N playfully glared at Sam, enjoying their newfound friendship. “Plus, he’s younger than Bucky.”

“Rude.” Bucky called from the other couch, mostly ignoring Sam and Y/N’s bickering. It was a bit weird for him to hear someone else yelling at Sam, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“Everyone calls him old.” Sam narrowed his eyes, confusion playing across his face.

“Yeah, but when it’s not me I have to defend him. Like when Pepper defends Tony from Morgan.” She easily compared her and Steve’s relationship to the couple, not realizing the weight of the moment.

“You see your relationship like Tony and Pepper?” Bucky questioned, now completely focused on Y/N.

She shrugged casually, unaware of the tension she created. “I mean, yeah. I think that’s where we headed.” She would be the first to admit she loved Steve more than she’s ever loved a boyfriend before. She likes to think Steve feels the same. “Why do you ask?”

Bucky shook his head, trying his best to seem casual. “Just curious is all.” He waited a few minutes before leaving, allowing Sam and Y/N to start up their conversation again. As soon as he was out of the room, he asked Friday for Steve’s location.

He had news to report.

He’ll accidentally burn our dinner

“Honey, I’m home!” Y/N called as she walked through the door. She was in a surprisingly good mood after a mediocre day.

“You seem happy.” Steve greeted as he walked into the living room from the kitchen. He pulled her close, kissing her before resting his chin on top of her head.

“I am happy. You’re here, what’s there to be mad about?” She squeezed him tighter, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around her.

“You make me happy too.” He pulled her onto the couch, eagerly kissing her after the day apart. He had returned from a mission just before she left for work, and seeing each other in passing was not enough.

“I missed you.” He mumbled against her mouth.

“I missed you too- is something burning?” She leaned away from him, sniffing the air.

“Shit!” He jumped from the couch, running into the kitchen as you laughed at his antics.

“Steve, language!” She called out in mock shock, laughing harder as he whined about burnt pizza.

And let me be the Scrabble winner

“Steve, sucks at Scrabble? Since when?” Wanda questioned as she ate brunch with Y/N and Nat.

“Um, always?” Y/N replied as if it was obvious.

“I have never seen Steve lose a game of Scrabble.” Nat chimed in, smirking as if she already knew what was going on (and lets face it, she probably did).

“Well, I always beat him.” She shrugged. Wanda smirked, clearly forming a plan.

“Well, you’ll just have to play Scrabble tonight and Nat and I will check if he can play better words or not!” Nat nodded along having seen this plan coming.

“Fine.” Y/N agreed, knowing there was no way of talking them out of this.

-

“Steve! Let’s play Scrabble!” Y/N smiled knowing Steve would give her anything she asked for. He walked into the living room with the box, a grin on his face.

The two of them set up the game and drew letters, immediately jumping into the game. After a few turns, Y/N texted Nat and Wanda to come into the living room to enact their plan. She watched from the corner of her eye as the two women watched Steve rearrange his letters.

When he played CAT for 7 points, Wanda gasped. Steve jumped slightly, turning around to investigate the noise.

“Oh my god.” Y/N’s jaw dropped as she realized Steve’s been letting her win.

“He was all set to play ADEQUATE, for probably a billion points, and he played CAT instead!” Wanda pointed accusingly at Steve while Nat just grinned.

“You’ve been letting me win this whole time?” Y/N threw a pillow at him, upset with the confirmation.

“Not every time! Sometimes I have bad letters.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “You just look so happy when you win.”

A small smile took over Y/N’s frown. How could she be annoyed when he was just trying to make her happy.

“I love you.” She rolled her eyes at his puppy dog look. “But don’t go easy on me this time!”

“I love you too.” Steve smirked knowingly and suddenly Y/N was rethinking everything.

And when my body changes shapes, he’ll say ‘oh my god you look hot today’

“I look fat.” Y/N huffed as she plopped down on the couch, still trying to find a dress to wear out with Steve tonight.

“You’re beautiful.” Steve commented from the kitchen, causing her to shriek.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” She placed her hand on her heart, feeling the rapid beating from Steve scaring her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But you do look beautiful.” He smirked as he walked closer, easily lifting her from the couch. “You look hot everyday.”

He kissed her passionately to convey just how much he believed what he was saying.

I need a man who’s patient and kind

“Steve, I need a few more minutes!” She called as she ran into their bedroom from the office. The two of them were meant to be leaving for dinner 45 minutes ago, but Y/N’s manager forced her into a last minute meeting with a potential collaborator.

“That’s fine.” He called back, a smile on his face. “Take your time, love.”

“How are you so patient.” Y/N huffed as she quickly changed clothes, annoyed with herself for delaying their plans.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her to him. “It happens. I’ve missed dates for mission before.”

“Yeah, but that’s important.” Y/N replied, leaning into his embrace.

“So is your work.” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“Not so important it couldn’t wait a day.” She closed her eyes, taking a moment to just breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Steve questioned, genuinely confused.

“For being so kind and understanding. For never making me feel like my job is less important than yours, even though it totally is. For being you.” She replied, easily listing things she’s thankful for.

“Thank you for being you.” He replied casually, still holding her to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She smiled before wiggling from his arms to finish getting ready.

Gets out of the car and holds the door

“I’m finally ready. Let’s go!” Y/N called, fully letting go of her annoyance at her manager for delaying her dinner plans.

“Perfect.” Steve grabbed his keys before turning to look at her. He sucked in a breath, eyes slowing gazing over her body. “You’re perfect.”

She blushed, kissing him on the cheek in response. Steve lead her to the car, opening the door for her, pressing a kiss to her lips before jogging around to the driver’s side.

“Where are we going?” She questioned, eager to finally be able to focus on him.

“Dinner.” He replied, a cheeky grin forming.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” She deadpanned, smiling as he laughed.

They discussed anything and everything they could think of as Steve drove to the restaurant, topics ranging from new songs they both liked to what a T-Rex would have for breakfast if it could cook like a person.

Eventually, the car pulled to a stop outside of a small, family owned Italian place. The lights were on, but there was nobody seated at any of the tables.

“Are you sure they’re open?” Y/N questioned, confused by his smile.

“They’re open… just for us.” He smiled shyly. “I wanted you to have a peaceful dinner, so Tony helped me find a place I could book for us for the night. No Y/N L/N or Captain America fans to interrupt.”

“Steve…” She trailed off, unable to form words. She hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet and she was speechless. He walked back around the car, opening the door and guiding her inside. She let him lead her all the way through the building until they reached the outdoor seating.

A string of tapered lightbulbs was strung across the patio, lighting up a single table in the middle. A few candles littered the area, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled, leaning in to kiss him before sitting down. Before she could say anything else, a familiar face greeted her.

“My name is Sam, and I’ll be serving you this evening. Can I get you started with something to drink?” Sam smiled at your shocked expression.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” She laughed, confused and overwhelmed with joy.

“I told you, nobody to interrupt us tonight.” Steve smiled, glaring at Sam for playing around. “Sam, I already told you what to bring out.”

“Couldn’t resist.” Sam winked, quickly returning with the drinks Steve requested. Y/N and Steve thanked him before returning to their conversation.

“You didn’t have to go to this much trouble.” Y/N spoke softly, still blown away by the effort and planning Steve must have put into this.

“I know. But I wanted to. You deserve it.” He smiled, taking her hadn’t across the table. “Now, I’ll bet you’re hungry since we were supposed to eat an hour ago.” As if on cue, Sam returned with Bucky, both carrying plates of food. “Let’s eat.”

The two of them continued their conversation from the car as they ate, topics again roaming all over the place. Before she knew it, Y/N had finished eating and Sam was back with dessert.

She looked down at the peach cobbler, laughing to herself. “You know me so well.” She smiled, grinning even more when he offered to share his chocolate cake. “The best of both worlds.”

When she finished eating and looked back up at Steve he was missing from his spot across the table. Instead of sitting in his chair, he was kneeling on the patio beside the table, a velvet box in his hand.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. Suddenly everything made sense. The lack of rushing, the completely private restaurant, not even having servers in the building. He wanted this to be a private moment.

“Y/N, the day I met you changed my life. I’ll have to thank Hudson for dragging you into the park that day, because I’ve never met anyone as special as you. Every moment with you is like a gift, and I want to spend the rest of my days experiencing life with you. Will you marry me?”

She nodded for a few seconds before finally finding her voice. “Yes.” It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough for Steve to delicately place the ring on her finger. “I love you so much.” She smiled, throwing herself into his arms the second he stood up.

“I love you too.” He replied, framing her face with his hands before kissing her.

I wanna slow dance in the living room like we’re 18 at senior prom

The ride home from dinner was filled with hand holding, giddy squeals, and hundreds of “I love you’s” from both Steve and Y/N. They eagerly ran back to their apartment, giggling like teenagers, high on love.

Steve quickly pulled her into the living room, kissing her over and over. She reciprocated, eager to share her happiness.

“Steve?” She questioned between kisses, waiting for him to hum in response. “Will you dance with me?” She smiled at him. Surprisingly, the two had never really danced together before. The only opportunity would have been at one of Tony’s parties, but they’re always so busy mingling with everyone.

“I’d love to.” He replied, that same fond smile on his face that she’d grown to love more than anything. She clapped, running over to the record player. She chose the first love song she could find, Cheek to Cheek by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

As the music played, the two swayed together, feeling more in love than ever before. Steve quietly sung the words in her ear, expressing all the raw emotion he’d been feeling since she said yes.

“Heaven, I’m in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.” Y/N joined him, singing along to convey her own happiness as well.

“And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we’re out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

They danced around the living room for a few songs, letting the record play through. It wasn’t until the music stopped that they even realized the song changed, too lost in the feeling of being together.

And grow old with someone who makes me feel young

I need a man who loves me like, my father loves my mom

“We’re getting married tomorrow.” Y/N floated through the halls, humming Cheek to Cheek again. After dancing to it the night of their engagement, the couple decided it would be their first dance song. Steve walked up behind her, picking her up and spinning around until they reached the kitchen.

“We are.” He replied, just as elated as her. She giggled playfully, smiling wider than ever before. She was just about to say something when Nat and Wanda bust into the room.

“C’mon. It’s time to go!” Wanda called, gathering Y/N’s belongings.

“Where?” The woman questioned, still wrapping in Steve’s arms.

“You’re getting married tomorrow. It’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.” Wanda spoke as if it was obvious.

“Nat?” Y/N questioned, hoping someone would understand it was just a superstition. Nat just shrugged, helping Wanda as she pulled you out of the room.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Steve called after her, a smile on his lips as he thought about seeing you again.

-

Standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, everything she prepared to say dissolved from her mind. She got lost in his blue eyes, listening to him recite his vows. All the love she felt exploded in one quick statement.

“You make me feel young.” She blurted out the words without thinking.

“Is that another old man joke?” He crinkled his eyebrows, confused by the exclamation. The onlookers chuckled.

“No! That’s not what I meant at all.” She laughed, burying her face in his chest. “I just mean, we’re grown adults.” He nodded, still confused. “But when I’m with you, I feel like a kid again. Like all my problems go away and I can just be in love with you. Like my parents were.” Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about the gravity of her statement.

Steve knew how much her parents love influenced her life. She had multiple songs inspired by their relationship and happiness.

“Oh, sweetheart. You make me feel young too. Like how I should have felt as a kid.” He decided against further explanation, not wanting to weigh down the ceremony with talk of war and his sickly youth.

“I just, I never thought I’d actually find a love like theirs, despite how much I wanted to. I think they would’ve loved you.” Steve wiped her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. He pressed his forehead to hers just feeling the need to be close.

“My ma would’ve loved you too.” He replied, his own throat getting tight. They cried as they finally said “I do”, no place they’d rather be.

And if he lives up to my father, maybe he can teach our daughter

Y/N rose from the piano as she sang the last line, exposing her growing belly to the group of Avengers, but more specifically to Steve.

What it takes to love a queen, she should know she’s royalty.

Everyone cheered for her performance, but her eyes were only on Steve’s. His jaw hung open, tears pooling in his eyes. She made her way to him, everyone moving out of her way.

As soon as she reached Steve, he pulled her into a gentle hug, eagerly kissing her.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, holding her close.

“I love you too.” She replied, just as emotional as he was.

“Are you really pregnant?” He leaned back, chuckling at the “duh” look on her face. She wiped his tears as they fell.

“I found out just after you left.” She smiled, leaning into him as he lowered his forehead to hers.

“We’re going to have a daughter.” He sounded breathless, overwhelmed with the news.

“I would’ve told you in private, but Tony insisted on having this party.” She laughed when he rolled his eyes at Tony’s antics.

“You wrote me a song.” He smiled, still holding her close.

“Oh, baby. I’ve written you dozens of songs.” She laughed when he leaned back in confusion. “They’re not all good. I wanted to finish the album before I played it for you. This was the last song.” She smiled, still overwhelmingly in love with the man in front of her.

“I love you. So much.” They spoke at the same time, swaying together as Tony invited all the remaining guests into the ballroom. They missed the song, but it was clear to everyone the room how much the two loved each other.

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[nugnthopkns]

hold me like that

word count: 1.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, soft wedding vibes

recommended listening: it's all coming back to me now | celine dion

a/n: guess i go here now. got inspired by that video where the avs sing their go-to karaoke songs and tbarrie does not disappoint

Tyson has always had this magnetism about him.

You felt it the first time you met him. It was a sleepy Thursday night in Denver, and your friends had convinced you to join them for a few drinks to celebrate the long weekend you’d all found yourself faced with. You weren’t huge on going out on weekdays, but you did have Friday off because the building that held your office was undergoing construction. Instead of forcing everyone to work from home the company decided to create a long weekend, and you were incredibly grateful. It had been a hard couple of weeks with project deadline after deadline, but that was behind you now and you could kick back and relax. Plus, your friends offered to foot your bill, so how could you say no?

The dive bar you had found yourself crowded into was hosting a karaoke night. It seemed like every patron was scrambling to get a turn at the mic, but you sat at a table off to the side and just cheered them on. Your friends did their best to convince you to do a rendition of ‘Wannabe’ with them but you refused, staying in your seat while they made fools of themselves in front of hundreds of people. Somehow, Sarah had gotten the crowd to join in, and it turned into a giant sing-along. Laughter tumbled from your lips as you watched, and once they finished you whistled loudly, clapping along with the rest of the crowd. The four of them took dramatic bows before they exited stage left. They tumbled back to the table as the emcee called for the next participant.

“Tyson? You’re up next!”

Chants of his name erupted from a group of men across the bar, and one of them peeled off to hop onto the stage. He smiled brightly at the crowd and gave a timid wave before turning to his friends and flipping them off. Their laughter echoed off the walls and you joined in. However, your laughter was less in good spirit and more of the awestruck variety. The man in front of you had kind eyes and gently tousled waves that just suited him. His smile made you want to get to know him better, and you found yourself drawn to him. The opening piano notes of a ballad fluttered through the speakers as you watched intently.

“There were nights when the wind was so cold,” he crooned, and the pitch of his voice surprised you. It took a few more lines for you to realize he was imitating Céline Dion, though rather poorly. Everyone in the bar was enthralled by the performance he was giving, and you spotted more than a few girls near the stage who were trying desperately to get his attention.

The group he came with continued to shout their support, but it was hard to understand them due to just how much they laughed. Prepared to go all out for the chorus, Tyson ripped the microphone from its stand and walked to the edge of the stage. “When you touch me like this, and you hold me like that,” he sang, and turned in the direction of your table. Boldly, the stranger pointed directly at you as he continued in the ridiculous accent. “I just have to admit that it’s all coming back to me.” At the end of the sentence, with his arm still extended, Tyson winked at you.

He continued to sing and the rest of the crowd joined him, but you were too shocked to form the words. You sat there dumbfounded until the end of the song, when you came to your wits just enough to join the applause. Tyson took it all in stride and gave the same wave he offered at the beginning of the performance before he shuffled off the stage. Instead of rejoining the festivities at his friends’ table, the brunette made his way through the crowd towards you. He stuck out at hand once he stopped in front of you, and spoke with the softest demeanour you had ever encountered.

“I couldn’t help but notice you from up there. I’m Tyson.”

Your insides melted at the sound of his voice, and you choked out a reply as you tried to figure out a way to stay close to him forever.

☼☼☼☼

He’s the same way now, a handful of years later. No matter what room you're in or how many people are between the two of you, one soft smile from Tyson has you slinking across the space and into his side. Friends and family laugh at how you’re always found close to one another, but they truly don’t mind because the love between you is palpable. It took you both an incredibly long time to find the happiness each other brings and no one is going to try and take it away from you.

It’s late in the evening, the sun having dipped behind the mountains hours ago, but somehow you’re still stuck repeating the same thank you spiel to wedding guests as you walk around. Tyson is nowhere in sight, but you’re sure he’s doing the same thing. No one informed you how much time you’d actually spend separated from your newly minted husband on your wedding night – if you had known you would have cut the guest list down dramatically.

You slip from the conversation you found yourself in with Tyson’s aunt and grandmother and head to the balcony of the rustic ski lodge you rented for the ceremony and reception. The fresh air greets you like a welcome friend, but it’s chillier than you expected. Wordlessly you pull your husband’s suit jacket tighter around your shoulders and stare at the idyllic landscape in front of you. Though you no longer live in Colorado, Tyson’s job landing you in Edmonton via a short stint in Toronto, you knew you had to get married here. It was your home for so long and your closest friends still reside in the state. Besides, it has that low-key feeling that is an exact replica of your relationship. Everything is easy in Colorado, just like it’s easy with Tyson.

There’s a rustling behind you that signals someone else has appeared on the balcony, and you don’t have to turn around to know it’s Tyson. The air around you has warmed up significantly and there’s a prickle of electricity at the base of your neck that flickers whenever he’s around. A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, and you lean back into the body they belong to.

“Hey there stranger,” Tyson says softly, tilting your head gently to press a delicate kiss to your lips.

“Long time no see,” you hum in response. “I didn’t know I’d never get to see you once we were married.”

He throws his head back in laughter at your grovelling, and you swear you’d be content if that was the only sound you heard for the rest of your life. “We have a lifetime ahead of us baby, I think we can let your nieces have a few dances with me.”

You know he’s right, but you’ll never admit it. Time doesn’t feel quite as fulfilling when it’s spent apart from Tyson. A comfortable silence engulfs the little bubble you’ve found yourself in, and Tyson says pressed to you as you point out the various constellations littering the night sky. Astronomy was a hobby you picked up one season to keep the loneliness at bay while Tyson was away, but it stuck and he listens to you ramble about the stars as often as he can. The silence is so peaceful, filled with so much love, that you think about never returning to the reception area.

“Do you remember the first night we met?” you whisper, nervous about disturbing the tranquil atmosphere.

“How could I forget? You were the most beautiful girl in the room.” It’s your turn to laugh, but Tyson insists. “I’m serious babe. Gabe had pointed you out when we walked in, but I was too much of a chicken to do anything. I kept waiting, hoping you’d go up and sing a song so I’d have a reason to come talk to you, but you never did. The guys gauded me into doing that ridiculous Céline Dion impression, and I only did it to catch your attention.”

Surprise laces your features. “Why have I never heard this version of events?”

“Because it’s stupid.”

You turn in his grip as gently as possible, looking him in the eyes. “I don’t think anything you do could be considered stupid Tys.”

“Even that one time at Worlds where I cut myself wrestling with Simmer?”

The sparkle in your eyes only intensifies as you giggle. “Maybe that,” you sigh, “But nothing else.”

Out of things to say, probably because he knows that was an incredibly stupid moment, Tyson leans down to close the distance between your lips. The kiss isn’t unlike the ones you’ve shared all day – sweet and full of so much love the grinch would snuff up his nose. However, it’s also different. It manages to convey a thousand words Tyson would never be able to vocalize about how thankful he is for you, and you revel in the feeling. You’ve never loved someone as much as you love him and it’s clear he’s in the same boat.

Eventually you pull away, a bright smile taking up much of your face as you rest your head on Tyson’s shoulder. When Tyson came out to find you he didn’t shut the sliding door properly, and the piano melody that started it all makes its way to your ears. Tyson’s laugh rumbles in his chest and you feel it against like a sunshine beam on your cheek. Wordlessly he begins to sway in time with the music, and you follow his lead.

“I love you,” he says with the same amount of conviction a judge does when giving a sentence.

Your response is automatic, and the easiest thing you’ve ever done. “Forever and ever.”

[aquilaofarkham]

title: mishpachah rating: T+ word count: 3,085 summary: Five years after rebuilding the manor—and the birth of a new Belmont into the world—Trevor decides to share an old recipe with his newfound family.

For @fibulaa 💛  Thanks so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

The first bread Trevor Belmont ate while living his newly orphaned vagabond life was so dry it cut at the inner walls of his throat. He swallowed each bite with grimace after grimace, knowing that despite the pain, the already hardened child of thirteen could stave off starvation for a little while longer. Until he tasted the faintest tinge of copper on his ruined tongue.

Putting those years far behind, he now stands in front of a wooden counter, blurry eyed and with a yawn reminiscent of a sun drunk cat. It seems clean at first glance but in every corner Trevor notices fragments of past meals which he tried wiping away once they were finished and placed on a more pristine table meant for family. Bits of salt, half minced vegetables, and crumbs of bread much softer than the ones belonging to a later childhood he would rather forget. This kitchen, warm in its early morning sunlight, was the final instalment of the manor, newly risen from the ashes. Or rather, simply rebuilt thanks to the calloused, blistered, and splintered hands. No more ruined stone, no more fire blackened beams holding together little less than an architectural skeleton. The somewhat mirror image of Trevor’s lost home has been faring better than the castle. Too many memories, fresh, ranging from bitter to incomprehensible.

Slowly, he grows conscious of his surroundings and his own self. A continuing habit of being the first to wake not just in this manor hold but in life. Reluctantly opening his eyes prior to dawn covering the landscape while still traveling alone only to drag a pair of worn boots back along a similar muddy road. Trevor never wanted to wake up before the sun. He just couldn’t bear to stay in the same place for much longer whether due to the laundry list of dangers or more often than not, his newfound hatred of whichever backwater hamlet he unfortunately found himself in.

He’s happy to wake up early. Happy to never feel a need to leave or escape, happy to know that lack of food replaced with pints of liquid pleasure mixed with death will never plague him again. Happy to prepare breakfast in a hot iron pot over a well stoked fire. What he thought he lost forever has come back, along with new additions to the family he’s carved out.

Another presence bounds her way into the kitchen and ambushes Trevor from behind. He’s not old—not yet, he’ll give it time—but years of drinking have made their permanent stay, dulling the more acute senses. Makes it easier for a five-year-old to catch him off guard. Trevor’s eyes bolt open as tiny arms hold him in a tight cage.

“Good morning, papa!”

His ears ring at the sound of Mirele’s loud voice, but at least he won’t have to worry about nodding off. He stares down at the youngest Belmont who looks as though someone had split Trevor and Sypha straight down their centres into four pieces and sewed each differing half onto the other in order to create a new person. A homunculi of messy dark chocolate hair, bright eyes shining with blue ice, full rosy cheeks somehow conspicuously smeared with some sort of dirt or jam, and enough energy to wear out an electric powered jackrabbit. 

“How’s my little monster doing this morning?” Everything Trevor says is laced with his own personal touch of affection and Mirele loves it.

“Mama and papa are still asleep. Help me wake them up! Pleaseeee?”

This doesn’t surprise him; Sypha has always preferred to savour her last moments of sleep longer than normal and Alucard is… well, Alucard.

“Tell you what.” Trevor places a lid onto the simmering pot with a heavy clank. “While this heats up for our breakfast, we’ll go wake up those lazy bones.”

“Right!” Hand in smaller hand, the two make their way upstairs into the shadowy master bedchamber. Curtains drawn with only a sliver of light cutting its singular path across the floor and over two distinct lumps covered by blankets and furs. They seem conjoined, linked in each other’s arms, unaware that a third party has been missing for long enough. Mirele plunges into the room first, jumping onto the bed as all children do when parents refuse to join the land of the conscious. She playfully shoves and cuddles her way between the two bodies who sink deeper beneath the covers, lazily moaning like ghosts.

“Mama! Papa! Wake up! It’s time to get up!”

Trevor hopes that his tactic of throwing open the weighted curtains works in a more effective manner. Listening to the rising chorus of wordless protests coming from behind, he’s pleased with the results. “Never thought I would be the one setting a good example for our daughter.”

“Do not get cheeky, especially this early.” Sypha’s response spills out like running water. It’s clear her mind isn’t quite all there yet. But she can scoop Mirele into her arms, find every ticklish spot, and illicit giggles that only canines might hear. “At least we both know how to have fun, right my sweet?”

“Vampires… nocturnal…” A deeper, muffled voice emerges from under one of the pillows.

“Something you’d like to share with us, Alucard?” Trevor quips, amused at how the other father of the household can never seem to shake off his morning dishevelment. Perhaps sleeping in a coffin would help—a very large one so he doesn’t have to be alone. Alucard reluctantly removes the pillow as tangled heaps of gold fall over his face.

“Vampires are supposed to be nocturnal. Would you rather I burst into ashes upon contact with the sun? Think of our girls, Trevor.”

“We’ve all seen you in the sun before, it’s about as dangerous as a clove of garlic.”

“I have my own means of physical protection. Far beyond your measly human comprehension, love.”

“Personally, I’ve been able to comprehend you plenty.”

Mirele stares up at Sypha, her bushy brows furrowed. “What does… comp… sshhheshion mean?”

“It’s just another word your fathers use whenever either of them want to feel smart.” 

Alucard gives Sypha a gentle pinch on either side of her abdomen. “I thought you were on my side.”

“What about my side?” Trevor asks, excelling at the greatest strength he possesses—the ability to never take anything seriously, only when he must.

“I’m hungry,” Mirele speaks up. “Hungry and bored. Can we eat now?”

--

This life is not normal, but then again it is. It always has been for them. Normal once meant coming together because of violence, encroaching darkness, and some flimsy prophecy stringing them along one dead body at a time. A prophecy which never said what had to be done after they followed it to the hard earned letter. Perhaps that’s why Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard floundered afterwards. No instruction on how to live their upturned lives.

Fuck prophecy.

They made this life by their own standards and in accordance with their own desires. They loved how they wanted to love and no prophecy could have foreseen Mirele. How she calls for her father while both Trevor and Alucard turn their heads at the same exact second. How she quickly calms herself when presented with a bowl of warm oatmeal drowning in honey and wild fruits hand plucked from the surrounding forest. But it’s not enough. Nothing ever is for someone always growing, always wanting more from life at such a young age.

“Can I have bread?”

Trevor, half way through his bitter coffee, turns to Sypha then Alucard as all three parental figures exchange glances. They haven’t the heart to tell Mirele. No bread at the ready, only the necessary ingredients and a considerable amount of flour bags to blanket Enisala. There’s the option of making it themselves, yet it depends on a certain someone’s capacity for patience.

“How do you feel about baking our own?” Trevor’s voice wavers, which he tries to mask with his characteristic dry tone. It’s been a long time since he’s made bread. Then again, helping the manor cooks was a somewhat selfish endeavour as it meant extra servings for the baby of the Belmonts. Yet his proposal goes over well with Mirele, whose inherited eyes light up at the prospect of trying something new.

“I wanna make bread! Can we? Can we please?”

“When was the last time you baked anything, Trevor?” Alucard asks, genuinely curious and with a healthy dose of skepticism. “You still won’t tell us much about anything concerning your former life, let alone the sort of foods your family ate.”

Trevor feels a twinge in his gut—still better than a punch. His two lovers, even his daughter, they only know of his mother; a matriarch in her own right. They know her name, the monsters she killed, and not much else. Trevor’s excuses: he doesn’t remember anything about her, despite the fact that he does. He didn’t know her for very long or very well, so there’s no point in missing her. Trevor did know Sonia and he does miss her, sometimes more than he can handle. Then the easiest excuse: it’s just another self-preservation tactic.

Out of this inner reflection comes an idea. It breaks tradition in a way. For the Belmonts and other Jewish families, everything is passed down through the mother—recipes, forms of worship, blood memories, centuries old tactics of bruising one’s knuckles and temples. Trevor doesn’t think this slight deviation from his culture’s norm will make him any less of what he’s always been. Mirele will simply have to pick up where he left off when she’s grown.

He doesn’t want to think about that now. She’s only five after all. One lesson at a time. 

“Alright. Gather round, pupils. The bread we’re making isn’t just any bread. Forget everything you know and everything you’ve been taught because this will be the closest thing to heaven you’ll ever taste.”

“How dramatic…” Sypha mutters under her breath. Alucard joins her amusement with a subdued chuckle. 

“I believe you were partially his influence.”

Trevor knows how much trouble he’ll be in if he puts Mirele through the most agonizing cruelty of waiting a second longer than necessary. Fearful of her pint-sized wrath, he gives everyone the order to start gathering ingredients: flour, eggs, honey, and some indulgent herbs to make this particular bread something special. As much of a strategic leader in the kitchen as he is when the world is coming to an end. With everything spread out on the countertops, Trevor guides his family step by step through the only recipe he remembers. He calls this bread “challah”, which Mirele immediately strains her freshly green vocal chords, trying to pronounce the word exactly as her father does. She quickly gives up and focuses on mixing the ingredients with an intense look—almost to a fault as bits of sloppy dough fly out of the bowl. Good. This enthusiasm is what Trevor wants to see.

Kneaded and allowed time to rise, the next step is the most important. Trevor divides the dough into four halves, then again, and again until each participant has their own handful of raw unbaked strips. 

“We have to braid them?” Mirele asks following his explanation. 

“That’s right. It’s what makes this bread different from all the rest.”

“Just like when papa let’s me braid his pretty hair!”

Every pair of eyes turns to Alucard, whose smile widens in that way which causes his eyes to shut tightly. Fangs happily bared as he pulls Mirele into his flour and dough covered arms while she giggles in delight. After they all return to work, her loaf turns out the same way as the braids she gives to him—lopsided, uneven, lacking a few outsticking stray hairs, but filled with affection and genuine resolve.

Three loaves are placed into the oven, including a fourth crudely constructed but still adequately done piece. Mirele is now more willing to play the waiting game—so she claims. Sitting in front of the oven while staring directly into its insides, utterly fascinated, oblivious to her surroundings. Unaware that her three parents are whispering behind her back. Eventually, Sypha has to gently pull her away with her bottom dragging along the kitchen floor.

“How about you and I do something a little more interesting while your fathers keep watch over things.”

“But what about the c… the calla!”

“Don’t worry, they will look after it. And we are not going far, my sweet.”

“We’ll make sure nothing burns down.” Trevor assures, despite it being Sypha who usually revels in cinders and ashes, intentionally or not.

The two retreat down the corridor past diamond shaped stained windows and into one of the manor’s smaller libraries where the cabinets reach the high ceiling painted in deep blue hues. Scattered from corner to corner are constellations of stars and midnight clouds obscuring each phase of the moon. Once when Alucard found Mirele curiously asleep atop a number of pillows when she should have been in her own bed, it was his decision to paint the library in new colours. Sypha moves aside an entire shelf of thick volumes as though trying to find a carefully hidden switch that will lead them into a secret chamber. It’s what Mirele hopes but turns mildly disappointed when the books do not in fact magically shift to reveal a stone passageway. Her soured anticipation is only countered when Sypha places a box on the desk.

“Can you guess what’s inside?”

“Is it treasure?”

“Close! You are almost right.” Sypha opens the lid just as Pandora did except there are no horrors, no evils to be wrought upon humanity. Mirele peeks inside and her eyes shine with the glistening silver of trinkets, pendants, and talismans. She resists the innate urge to reach her hands, still white with flour, into the box only to briefly experience the sensation of holding one between her fingers. Even children know when something is sacred.

“These belonged to your grandparents. They used them for protection and strength. A long time ago, before you were born, their home burned down and everything was destroyed.”

“Papa’s home?”

Sypha nods, grateful that this story now has its happy ending, slight as it may be. “However, when your other father started building the manor we live in, he found this box trapped amongst all the rubble. It managed to survive.”

“What do they say?”

Mirele points to one pendant molded in the shape of a sword. Inscribed along the curve of its ash-riddled blade are the Hebrew names of angels which must have been muttered by Sonia or Gabriel. The longer Mirele stares, attempting to decipher yet another new language, the brighter her cheeks grow red with frustration. Her mother acts quick just as her eyes begin to water. 

“It’s alright if you don’t understand what any of them say.”

“I can learn! Please, mama? I promise I’ll study really hard!”

Sypha’s lips curl as Mirele continues her begging. Oh the mind of a child. How quickly it changes.

--

The kitchen feels hotter, wafting through the air. Enveloping the room and everything caught between its walls. Trevor stands by the oven, a thick cloth ready in his hand. It shouldn’t take much longer. At least there’s no stench of something burning. Almost makes him pine for the days of his family’s massive stone oven and how he would sneak around at night and pick out leftover morsels from inside like an insatiable mouse. Not unlike the actual beasts which he hunted throughout the hallways before moving onto larger prey typical of a Belmonts’ work—or as large as his own runtish body mass could handle.

Minutes of quiet pass, still eyeing the loaves with a keen gaze. Trevor’s concentration soon broken by the feeling of two arms wrapping around his softening yet still robust midsection. Slow and careful, until his back is pressed against an equally broad chest.

“Can I help you?” He asks as Alucard buries his face into the curvature of his shoulder blades.

“You’re already helping.” The dhampir, unchanging in his physical appearance (a revelation both Trevor and Sypha refuse to acknowledge for the time being), tightens his embrace.

“Something wrong?”

“No… I just enjoy feeling how much softer and warmer you’ve become.”

Trevor’s cheeks blush ever so pinker and not because of the oven’s heat. By now he should be used to Alucard’s sudden bouts of outward affection.

“You even smell better.”

There it is. Trevor thought he would be waiting forever to hear that little jab, though said with nothing but a good heart.

“That might be the herbs you’re smelling.”

Alucard shifts around so that the two of them are side by side, cheek to cheek, as he chuckles in Trevor’s ear. “Come here.”

He doesn’t offer a kiss, not where Trevor was expecting. Instead of his lips, Alucard singles out every patch of stray flour on his face, kissing, wiping, even licking them clean. Cheek, jawline, and nose. Trevor’s expression twists into a ticklish, surprisingly delighted facade. 

“You’re a half vampire, not a cat.”

“Better to clean you now than later.”

“Always so fucking odd…”

“You love it.”

Much to his lucky stars, Trevor manages one curse mere seconds before Sypha and Mirele return. They let their daughter speak at a breakneck speed neither one can fully comprehend—something about silver pieces and whether they can teach her a new language—until one series of questions finally sticks.

“Is the bread ready yet? Can we eat it now? Can we please?”

Trevor placates Mirele by revealing the fruits of their joint hard earned labour: four freshly baked and perfectly shined challah loaves each representative of whoever did the braiding. She bounces in her chair before simmering down to an excited tremble once Trevor warns her of how they need to cool. In order to make this more of a meal, he rummages about in search of two other beacons from his childhood. He’s rewarded with one of the few fresh apples they have left while Sypha, ever in tune with his inner thoughts, grabs another small pot of honey for him.

Trevor thanks her by gently running his palm across her lower abdomen, over the growing bump. He keeps it there for just a second longer, a subtle gesture of love noticed by Sypha. Fingertips intertwined with each other, they join Alucard and Mirele at the table as the midday sun shines golden through the windows.

[ktheist]

nice guys finish last | m

synopsis. you thought you were over yoongi’s dick move of ending your engagement through his parents - not even a text when he disappeared out of your life. that’s why you agreed to the newly arranged marriage with his brother, namjoon, but on the brink of your wedding day, it becomes apparent that you haven’t really let go of the past as you tear up in front of your soon-to-be husband at the back room of the church.

◟alternatively, “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

pairings. husband!ceo!namjoon x doctor!reader x ex-fiance!producer!yoongi

genre. arraged marriage au. angst. fluff. smut.

word. 16.2k

content: age gap factor (namjoon is 5 years older than oc and yoongi is 7 years older than oc). pining. teasing. hoseok cockblocking.

warning(s): heavy adult content. mentions of cheating. hospital scenes.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

x

“i don’t want to marry you at all. the person i love is someone else.” there are tears brimming in your eyes but if there’s anything the years of etiquette class namjoon’s parents forced on him taught him - he’d say he turned out okay - it’s to not mention to the crying lady that she’s crying. but he can’t help stare a little longer. admire a little too much.

the rays flooding through the window paired with the prettiest ivory dress he’s seen you in gives you an iridescent halo. you look like an angel descended from the top most heavens.

but not for him.

“i know,” he lets out a drawn out sigh, hand on his neck. he’s always been the awkward one between the two. if it was him - if it was his brother, he would say it without any ounce of self-reproach. but then again what does namjoon have to be sorry for? for being born? for being the second choice son to step into his brother’s shoes when the aforementioned man threatened to disown the family name if their parents refused to let him marry a girl of his choice who, according to the workers’ gossip, ‘he suddenly woke up one day and decided he was in love with’? 

“it’s yoongi, isn’t it? you love yoongi.”

your eyes are prettier when you’re looking directly at him. the tears give them a kind of glow that makes him want to gather you into his arms and keep you there. the flushed cheeks affirms - despite saying it with full confidence, it was just - his hunch.

oh.

the ceremony proceeds rather smoothly. you’re still sniffling when your father passes your hand to him at the end of the aisle. the older man himself looks distraught. either he knows you’re against this marriage and hates himself for failing to put his daughter’s happiness before the guaranteed wealth that comes from marrying you off to the kim family or you’d gotten into a fight with him in a last ditch attempt to convince him to call off the marriage.

either way, you’re here now. the pastor’s words are muddled in your ears but it’s enough to take note of the end tone and the steely silence that ensues which could only mean it’s your turn to say those words.

“i do.” they’re the easiest to get over with.

after endless fights with your parents, going on two hunger strikes and running away to paris for a year - you know you’re in the endgame. and you’ve painstakingly and sorely lost.

he lifts the veil off your face, taking his time with setting it over your head. it’s no secret that kim namjoon is handsome. the kind of thick, textured-fabric-suit-wearing and sleek-back hair kind of handsome. yoongi was more of the hoodie-and-jeans and messy-in-need-of-a-trim hair kind of handsome. but he isn’t yoongi.

you screw your eyes shut, refusing to let the memories of your own wedding vows embed in your head. those beautiful pink full lips are as soft as they look. but they’re not kissing you on your pressed-into-a-straight-line lips. betrayed by your curiosity, your eyes flutter open only to gaze upon the smooth cream skin that wraps around his neck and just the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple as he pulls way.

your newly-wed husband has just kissed you on the forehead.

x

adjusting to married life is as easy as slipping on your favorite shoes. it’s perfect. almost unsettling even. the beach house off the coast of the private island namjoon’s family owns is breathtaking. the sound of waves crashing against the shores is your constant companion as you work on your research. it’s a project you had to put aside when you graduated. the first year at the hospital is the busiest, or so your senior colleagues say. 

namjoon strides into the kitchen sometime past noon, all fresh and showered with a fitting long sleeved shirt and trousers. it’s the most dressed down you’ve ever seen and yet for some people you know, it’s the fanciest they can get. sometimes you wonder if the standards have hit the ground or if namjoon’s so well-adapted into the routine of dressing up presentable enough to go to his office on an off day in case something calls for it.

“good morning.” you greet first, traces of the embarrassing tear-jerking wedding ceremony still lingers in the back of your mind - you’d tried to explain yourself on the way here in the boat but namjoon had easily blew your worries away with a light chuckle and a “i’d do the same too if i loved someone and had to marry another person.”

it’s not unusual for you to already be perched on the elegant gold sofa adjacent to the sliding doors that has the best view of the sea. the master bedroom is the other part of the beach house with spectacular view - you’d been entranced when you stepped into the room on your first day. but namjoon suggested you stay in the guest room, knowing there’s no way you would share a bed with him -

“or you can take this room and i take the guest room,” he added a moment later, probably because he saw you staring out the balcony, bewitched by the sea. that had broke you from your trance and you’d shook your head so much in protest, you were surprised it didn’t fall right off your neck. “n-no! i mean - i’ll take the guestroom.”

his parents had been nice enough to lend their private beach house for you honeymoon. you weren’t going to step over their son and conquer the master bedroom - even if technically, you’re now part of the family.

“morning.” he fixes you with that half-smile. the kind of smile you give to someone you’re in an complacent relationship with but nothing more.

at least you’ve got that going for you. and that’s a rarity coming from the gossips you’ve heard here and there about marriages found on the ground of convenience.

his eyes swipe over the ipad in your shorts-donned lap from his spot, leaned against the counter in the kitchen, pitch black mug of coffee with wafts of smoke coming out of it, “how’s your research going?”

“well,” you set the ipad down on the glass surface of the coffee table, it’s bare of anything besides your phone that’s been lighting up from the notifications. one from your mother, another from the group of friends you found in college, and the rest is from your strictly-women group from the hospital, “the world wide web is resourceful and all but it can’t beat the information in actual books - papers, you know?”

“ah, the traditional way of researching.” he chuckles, dimples digging into his cheek, enhancing his handsome features. you never knew he had dimples. not that you knew much about him - you’d only properly talked on the day of your wedding, in the back room and the first thing you said was -

you suppress the memories further down your thoughts. it works for the most part, but you can’t help the flush that spreads across your face. so the laugh you let out is a little strained and if he notices, he doesn’t show - like he pretends not to notice a plenty many things.

but alas, he knew your secret crush - was it still just a crush you had for yoongi? you’re not sure.

“what can i say? i’m raised traditional.”

x

that was two weeks ago. now, you’re back to working your ass off at the hospital, being grilled to the bones by your supervisor, getting reprimanded over being one minute late and then being told to run to the cafe five minutes from the hospital to buy your supervisors their favorite strawberry smoothie topped with sprinkles.

“kim seokjin, that dickwad.” jennie huffs, her cat-like eyes making it appear as though she’s plotting the man’s death. “he’s working you to the bones as soon as you get back.”

“he probably thinks i’m not that serious about my residency since my family has enough fortune to sustain me for my whole lifetime,” you can only laugh at that, her anger has sucked all the tiredness and annoyance you have for your supervisor right out of you. it feels refreshing, “all the more reason to prove him wrong.”

“enough about that asshole,” jisoo waves a dismissive hand off and you know what’s coming is far more terrifying: she blinks, eyes filled with stars and cherry red lips curling into the kind of smile that can only mean one thing, “how was it? the second son of kimcorp. were there rose petals on bed? candles lit around the house? a romantic, sizzling-”

“sorry, jisoo, i gotta go get ready for the dinner. i’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, okay?” you clasp your hands together apologetically when your phone buzzes with the reminder you set a week prior: 8am annual kimcorp dinner.

you breathe a sigh of relief as you shake off your white coat, draping it over your recliner before escaping to the washroom with a bag of makeup and the dust-proof cover bag of the outfit you’re wearing for tonight. by the time you’re touching up on your nude lipstick, your phone buzzes again but this time, the screen lights up with namjoon’s name on it.

“hey,” his voice is deeper through the phone - it’s the first time he calls you. there was never any reason for you to call each other but you suppose, he’s calling to make sure you’re not forgetting the dinner -

“i’m in front of the hospital.”

or maybe not.

“wh-what do you mean?” your cheeks heat up from the thought of namjoon waiting for you in his audi. the image, too domestic for your liking.

“well, you can’t drive so i thought i’d pick you up.” he says it like its the simplest equation to understand.

“namjoon,” the name feels foreign on your tongue regardless of how many times you taste it when you need to tell him something - to set the line straight, “i didn’t know you were gonna pick me up so i already told kyungsoo to pick me up. he’s probably already here. sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.”

“i know,” he says simply.

“e-excuse me?” while you’re beyond confused.

“i told your parents i’d pick you up so kyungsoo’s driving them to the dinner.”

“oh.”

wait. what?! 

x

namjoon is confident in his driving skills - as he is with everything he does. he’s almost perfect. the line of his shoulders seem at ease as he stirs the wheel with one hand and the other rests on the gear, inches away from your scarlet clad thighs.

“why isn’t hoseok driving you?” the aforementioned man sticks to him like glue. everywhere namjoon goes, he goes. it’s a given since he’s the head secretary but anyone who’s seen them interact could tell there’s more than boss-employee relationship between them. they seem like close friends which is unlikely be given namjoon’s too-serious nature and hoseok’s joke-cracking every five minutes - but not impossible.

his face remains the same as he keeps his eyes on the road, humming briefly, “he had a thing.”

“can secretaries have a thing and leave their boss to drive for himself like that?” that doesn’t sound right. you may not be actively involved in fecam industries’ affairs but mr. jung, your dad’s secretary, spends more time with your dad than the two men do with their wives - that’s how demanding the business world is. but could hoseok get a free pass because of his and namjoon’s friendship?

namjoon chuckles, dimples and all and you can’t help but blush at the side profile. if anything, he has a sharp jawline and beautiful neck-

you push the thought as soon as it comes. neck? who finds necks beautiful?

“he had a date but it’s not until a couple hours,” the tone he uses is light and playful but underlined with a sort of bashfulness that you don’t know kim namjoon was capable of, “i told him to go home because i wanted to pick you up myself.”

your cheeks heat up all over again as you stare at him a little too long. so much so, the hand that’s been comfortably perched on the gear goes to the back of his neck in an unsure manner.

“i just needed to talk to you about something.” he explains, just as awkward as he was in the back room at the church.

“okay.” eyes turned to the road too, you can see namjoon breathing a sigh of relief from your periphery. that couldn’t have been because of you could it? was he nervous because you were watching him? “what did you want to talk about?”

he clears his throat, that natural ease in his tone returning, “if it gets uncomfortable - if anyone asks, we met because you were yoongi’s fiancee and we couldn’t help but fall in love. but you wanted to intern at a hospital in paris so that’s why we’ve only gotten married now.”

you take awhile to digest the information until something in your stomach doesn’t sit right with you, “you want me to... lie?”

his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth just for the briefest moment as he thinks about it. he probably didn’t expect you to disagree but he admits his mistake faster than half the people you know your whole life would, “i’m sorry, i didn’t think it would weight on your conscience. i was thought it’d be hard on you if some ass- someone’s going to start a rumor about you but i didn’t ask how you’d feel about it.”

“i see.” you simply nod. it’s true that you’re the pass-up fiancee who got between two people who fell in love in college but the other is the son of a renown family and engaged while the other is an arts major from a normal working family. unable to let bygones be bygones, you decide to marry the younger brother to your fiance - or so the story goes. “but they already know i was yoongi’s fiancee and i ended up marrying you. i don’t need - no, i don’t want to explain myself to anyone.”

despite that big talk, your can feel the prickle of tears in your eyes. namjoon steals a glance at you and he never mentions the glassiness of your gaze - if anything, he smiles. it’s different than the usual smiles. this one, though wordless, says he’s following your flow. do what you like and if and when things get though, you can count on me.

x

dinner has yet started when you arrived. guests are still arriving and waiters and waitresses are carrying trays of champagne glasses around. in a distance, your friends wave at you to come over. you smile, hand falling away from namjoon’s since you needed to at least do that in front of the paparazzo that were waiting outside. eager, hungry for gossip about the wedding that shook south korea’s business world.

“girl, you are glowing.”  yerin literally screams. it’s a secret to no one that she’s hinting on your recent marriage and private island getaway. but nothing happened.

“how are you girls? it’s been so long.” you side hug eunha, letting her arms wrap around your waist as you stand huddled together.

you haven’t seen them since you got back from paris. the wedding was attended by thousands of people - all of whom, your and namjoon’s family’s associates. but you had your hands full shaking hands and smiling next to your husband because these people matter to namjoon. or at least he has an interest over them. business deals. merges. trades. kimcorps carries out every kinds of business they can get their hands on. namjoon passingly mentioned about the work-in-progress for a private hospital.

you dread the likelihood of having to leave the hospital you’re working in right now for family-run one but you know it’s quite impossible to not get involved when you, yourself is a doctor.

“we weren’t the ones who went under the radar and came back and got married to the second son of kimcorp.” yuju huffs sulkily, cheeks pinked from the champagne she’s had but she isn’t that far gone when she clamps her mouth shut a second later, eyebrows furrowing in guilt.

sowon nudges her side anyway, mouthing her something as your gaze falls on the light caught in your black gucci heels.

“i-i’m sorry, ___ that didn’t come out right.” comes a heartbeat later, she sounds just as sorry as her words as you offer her a small smile. 

“it’s okay, it’s the truth anyway.”

“stop that,” eunha suddenly gripes, her gaze boring into you and rips apart the barrier you’ve tried so hard to maintain, “we’ve been friends since elementary school, we know how whipped you are for that asshole so-” she sniffles while you’re left wondering if it’s her who had an ex-fiance break if off and had his parents relay the news on a bi-weekly dinner. 

“she’s trying to say you can cry or get mad or curse that dipshit around us. don’t hold back.” sowon finishes, lips twitching as she enjoys watching the vulnerable state of the otherwise fiercest one among you.

something in your chest feels light. like a weight being lifted off your shoulders as you study the girl’s face one by one. sowon’s and yerin’s smirk, yuju’s nodding and eunha’s teary eyes. 

“yoongi, he’s-” you take a deep breath and it feels almost dramatic as the second stretches on while you build up the hurt, the anxiousness, the disbelief that the man put you through, “-a fucking idiot.”

“you bet he is,” yerin’s basically screams, swiping a glass for you and holding hers up, “that fucking idiot.”

you tighten your side hug on eunha in an ‘i’m okay’ gesture as you clink your glasses together.

it’s a few moments later that murmurs start to spread around. the tension that comes with the latest arrived guest thick enough to command every attention in the room.

“she’s ballsy. coming here.” sowon offhandedly comments, eyes trained on the girl who has her hand on yoongi’s arm like an iron clamp. “right into the lion’s den.”

she may not have her parents’ money to groom her into the women you and the girls are. but maybe that’s why she has her own air. her poised steps, coupled with a cocktail creme laced dress and relaxed smile easily gives her an innocent cloak. someone friendly and good-tempered and can adjust well to her suddenly-plunged-into-money circumstance when she married yoongi. that must have been why you never heard any bad rumors about her even though there’s almost always at least one gossip enthusiast in these socials.

“ugh, i hate her!” yuju hisses, eyes more focused as she places her glass onto one of the waiter’s trays.

“i-i think i’m going to get myself some snacks.” with that, you slip past the guests until you’re at the end of the room, standing in front of the everything-you-can-eat table lined up with pastries only from the best bakes.

that moment, when you looked from her to yoongi, your eyes met. his hair is a little longer than you remember it, flowing in light blue tresses until just a few centimeters above his eyebrows. the first two buttons of his shirt is undone. her doesn’t wear a necktie - he despises how suffocating they feel. but he’s managed to keep on his blazer - he used to say they were hot and took them off and left them in the back seat of the car when you arrived at an event. he used to attend these events with you. just the two of you. for four years. you thought you’d keep doing so for longer after you got married.

“you know, they’re not plastic and made for display.” a voice breaks you from your train of thoughts.

“p-pardon?” you blink once. confused.

“the pastries,” namjoon lulls his head to the side where towers of tarts, macaroons, pavlova and sliced cakes stand tall and proud, “they’re edible.”

it takes a moment for you to register that he was joking - kim namjoon? cracking jokes?

his smile tilts higher when you chuckle. it’s brief but the look of relief oh his face lingers. he must have seen you escape from your group of friends. and this is his own way of checking up on you.

“thank you, namjoon.” you murmur low enough for only you and him to hear, lips tugging in the corners. “but i’m fine - i just - seeing him for the first time like this - it’s just unexpected. even though this is an annual dinner held by his family and he has every right to be here.”

“that’s her? the ex-fiancee?” a guest asks in a hushed tone somewhere a few feet away. but she’s not very discreet as she thinks she is.

“yeah, she couldn’t get the older brother so she went for the younger one.”

apparently, her company needs to attend classes on how-to-whisper-101 too.

“how mortifying. and the brother just goes with it?”

“he must have felt compelled to save her face. you know how nice and well-mannered he is-”

the low noise namjoon makes under his breath catches your attention. the muscles on his face is strained and twisted. it barely shows. just a crease between his eyebrows and the lack of smile. he hardly ever smiles from the tabloids and interviews you’ve seen of him so people might not notice the displeasure. but after a whole month of knowing namjoon, if there’s anything you can say for certain about the man, it’s the stockpile of smiles he has to offer.

“namjoon, it’s okay. i don’t care.” you smile, it’s forced and you know he notices it right off the bat but sighs anyway, shoulder line falling just slightly as he runs a hand over his sleek styled hair.

his lips move and you hear the words he uttered but somehow your mind couldn’t comprehend the information without going blank. “s-sorry?”

“it agitates me that they’re freely spewing bullshit like this,” he huffs, cheeks tinted pink at having to repeat his words. “it’s taking everything in me not to go over there and tell them their husbands have at least one business deal with kimcorp. and i can end it and it’d plunge their family into bankruptcy.”

“wh-why would you do such a thing?” the question comes out almost dumbly but if it did, he doesn’t say. he just... keeps looking at you.

you’re barely able hold yourself from squirming under his scrutiny, the smile now awkward in all places.

“if you don’t mind, can i kiss you?” his eyes widen just the slightest bit as he corrects himself, “on the forehead i mean.”

he clears his throat, eyes straying away from you as if he couldn’t bear to look at your face after that mistake. “just so i can prove to them i wasn’t forced to marry you.”

the light pinkish blush spreads to the tip of his ears and neck as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. you’re not sure why, but the sight in front of you is endearing and you find yourself saying-

“okay, kiss me.”

you didn’t specify where. and maybe, as the heat flares across your own cheeks when his arm band around your waist and a warm hand presses up against you cheekbone - maybe you want him to kiss you somewhere else.

the chatter stops and so does time. but it’s only for as long as namjoon’s full lips are on your forehead, kissing you for the second time. then, time resumes and murmurs begin to spread louder than when yoongi made his arrival. when the gravelly voice speaks from somewhere behind namjoon, you know why.

“get a room, will you?” yoongi’s tone is light - you’d taken a whole year getting used to it to know he’s being playful and not condescending.

“yoongi.” namjoon greets, unlike the elder man, his sounds better natured but there’s a sort of underlying detachment. his arm is still on your lower back almost as if he needs to feel that you’re here or he’d be completely detached. “i didn’t think you’d show up. you hate these events.”

the aforementioned man draws out a long sigh as though he’s been found out over a poorly told lie. “i don’t but naeun wanted to go - you know how things are with mom and dad. she thinks it’s gonna make them open up.”

it’s no secret your father and mother-in-law doesn’t talk about yoongi’s marriage - they never do around you but you thought they were being considerate. but what yoongi’s saying right now could mean his relationship with his parents are far more strained than you thought it’d be. especially since they had let him marry the girl of his dreams who’s clearly below their standards.

she - naeun - is standing somewhere near the exit, conversing with the notorious older generation that yerin duped ‘the wickeds’. for their ways of gaining wealth, for their poor treatment towards their employees, for socially shunning a young man - new money, for addressing one of them casually. she is ballsy.

“it’s been awhile,” yoongi’s directly addressing you now. the tug on his lips as playful as an old friend’s greeting. you don’t know how he can look at you like nothing happened. “you’re finally a resident now, huh?”

“yeah, finally.” you smile, the kind of smile that celebrates her triumph. the celebration part is true but the smile is every bit unnatural. but it seems to fool yoongi as he nods, proud.

somewhere in your chest, the strings on your heart clenches at the unchanging personality of this man. no wonder you like him.

before the conversation can tread further down memory lane, there’s an announcement to have the guests move to another room where dinner is being served.

“we’ll get going first then.” namjoon announces, guiding you by the waist as yoongi nods, waiting for naeun to come to his side before going in himself.

x

 dinner went smoother than expected. yoongi and naeun showed up uninvited and were placed in the back seats where the people socially displaced guests are. you felt bad when you saw naeun’s distorted expression as waiters bring in chairs to the table for the both of them. but there’s nothing you could have done.

“you have an 8am shift tomorrow, right?” namjoon asks as you slip your heels off, wincing at when one of them brushes against the blisters. they’re gonna be a bitch to deal with tomorrow.

stretching your arms out as you walk up the stairs, you hum in confirmation. “mhm, and you have dinner with ms. yoo, right?”

it’s ironic how you know each other’s schedule despite not being anything more than two people sharing one house and happens to be married. guess you’ll chalk it up with the fact that you both respect each other enough to be aware of each other’s whereabouts - not the creepy kind of way but the share-me-your-live-location-so-i-know-you’re-safe kind of way.

namjoon was quiet until you take a left to where the guest bedroom-turned-permanent-bedroom is, “it got rescheduled.”

your hand hovers over the door handle as you crane your neck to look at the man on the top of the stairs. his bow tie is loosened, the button to his color undone and his blazer is draped over one arm - a telltale sign of a final end to the night. “i was hoping we could have dinner to together. after work.”

yes but you don’t usually go straight home after work. you usually spend time at the library either at your previous college or at the hospital. you’ve decided to continue your research no matter how taxing it may be since you came back from the honeymoon. namjoon knows and the fact he asks you to dinner anyway - it’s unlike him.

he’s the kind of person that would ask if you had free time and match his schedule to yours. not ask for your time.

“yeah, sure.” you say and you think you see his shoulder line sagging as if he’s just let out a long-held breath, “pick me up at 8?”

“yeah.” he nods, dimples showing as his lips curl at your answer, “at 8.”

only when the door closes behind you, do you let yourself slide down to the ground. heels lying next to your thighs and dress in need of being sent for washing. your cheeks are and neck and ears are hot. dinner? just you and namjoon? like... a date?

x

jisoo isn’t around when lunch rolls by.

“a patient got rolled into er this morning - couldn’t contact any of his family members. suho decided to go ahead with surgery but he reacted badly to the anesthesia so she had to make up for her suho’s mistake and monitor his patient.” jennie’s face scrunches at the other woman’s supervisor pushing the task on her. shoving a forkful of the cheese cake, she sighs as the medical professional side take over, “thank god the surgery went smoothly though despite all that.”

you hum in contemplation, comparing the well-established crazy bitch seokjin who pushes those under his supervision to their limits and suho’s less-than-extreme approach. you used to envy jisoo and jennie for getting suho as their supervisor but at the end of the day, with every push from seokjin, you get out of it stronger and wiser. “i hope she doesn’t forget to have her meals.”

the day ends faster than usual. of course with rounds and surgeries you have to assist with, you’ve always find yourself barely realizing the setting sun - the sign of that your shift has ended.

but you could have sworn it was 5pm when you last checked the time. an car crash patient had arrived at the er and you forgot you’d left your phone on your desk, running out to assist the critical patient. it’s only when you’ve plopped into your recliner, head thrown back in fatigue, do you notice the vibration of your phone.

namjoon’s name flashes across your screen. your eyes almost bulges out of their sockets as you swipe to the right.

the deep voice from the other end is as calm as ever, “hey, ___-”

“namjoon!” you almost scream with guilt, phone pressed between your cheek and your shoulder as you shrug the coat off one shoulder before using the free now free hand to hold the phone and shrug off the other shoulder, “where are you?”

“i’m at the parking lot. i couldn’t wait at the lobby because i was obstructing the other cars - i called you a few times.” he sounds almost concerned and your heart clenches tightly in you chest at the thought of him waiting for you for over an hour.

you burst onto the parking lot - searching for the sleek black audi until a red bugatti rolls over. you’re about to take a step back seeing as you’re almost standing in the middle of the road - when the driver on the other side of the car steps out. his usually gelled hair is mussed from the amount of times he ran his hand over it, cuffs rolled to just below his elbow, revealing the dark veins that run just below the skin on his arm. 

namjoon fixes you with that eased smile, going around the gently purring vehicle and opening the door to the passenger seat for you. the arm which hand he uses to hold the door open pulls on the thin fabric of his button down in all the right places. so this is a the normal end-of-the-day look.

you always get back a bit later than him and by the time he looks up from his work that’s laid out over the coffee table, he would usually already have bathed and changed into one of those long-sleeved shirts.

x

the restaurant he initially booked for dinner had cancelled. naturally. so you end up in a barbecue place five minutes away from the hospital. this is where you and your colleagues go when to celebrate a birthday, promotion or finally-having-a-boyfriend/girlfriend.

the slices of meat sizzles on the grill, its marinated aroma wafting in the air. but your stomach churns with a different kind of sensation - guilt. “i-i’m sorry. because of me you had to wait an hour and got cancelled by the restaurant.”

then, he chuckles. it’s the same kind of good natured chuckle that reverberates every time you say something amusing - but you can’t see how any of this is.

his says your name. the syllabus rolls out of his tongue in waves but you chalk up the blush spreading on your face with the heat of the grill so close to you. he leans back against the backrest, sleeves filled out to the brim as he crosses his arms over his chest. “you were the one saving a life. all i did was wait.”

“y-yeah but still.” no emergency is foreseeable, otherwise you could have saved more lives than you do now. and it’s still not enough. “i forgot about you.”

namjoon nods, taking your words into consideration - as if he never thought about it that way. as if he truly doesn’t mind wasting his time over some woman he has to tolerate because he’s married to her. “cook me dinner then.”

“wh-what?”

“i don’t want you to beat yourself up and i know whatever i say is going to come off as me being nice.” the corners in his lips tugs upwards, “so make it to me by cooking dinner.”

once your brain is done registering what he said, you clutch your hands in your lap as though you’re clinging onto this one time chance to make up for your fault, “yes! i-i mean yeah, sounds fair.”

the smooth sound of his chuckle isn’t lost to the sizzle of the meat. to him, it must be a small matter but to you, it’s a matter of pride.

“this saturday then?” you offer, a bit too eager.

almost as if remembering something, he releases a long drawn out sigh, “business trip to tokyo.”

“next weekend?”

“mom’s home sweeter home fundraiser for the orphans on saturday. sunday?”

“night shift. how bout breakfast?”

“golf with seollyu’s director.”

a heavy pause lapses in the room. after a moment, namjoon reaches for the chopsticks, flipping the slices of meat over.

your shoulders sag, lips pursed in a pout. this isn’t an unusual occurrence in your years of being the daughter of your family. your father is devoutly involved in the family business and your mother is busy with her charity work. you’ve celebrated birthdays with the staff more than you do with them.

the glint of the chopstick that’s placing a piece of meat on your plate catches your eyes. you study the long nimble fingers to the vein that runs from the back of its hand and disappear somewhere below his arm before you gulp, meeting his eyes - did he notice you checking out his arm?

“we’ll figure something out.” if he did, he doesn’t say as he fixes you with an assuring smile, “but right now you need to get some food in you. eat up dr. ___. you did great today at work.”

this time, you really can’t blame the grill for the blush.

x

“you could’ve told mom you couldn’t do brunch.” namjoon tells you in the elevator to the 15th floor of your in-laws’ house. it’s been three days since that night. he’s left for work but prior to this morning, he’d already made it clear that it was no problem at all picking you up from home.

he’s probably saying this because of the lack of makeup you’d put on. some pats of compact powder and bright red lipstick can’t hide the bags underneath those tired eyes. you’d spend extra hours reading about the defective genes and the fix to remodel them so every child born from parents from a history of relatives with inheritable diseases could live a life without the risk of said disease.

“i’m fine.” you wave a dismissive hand before stretching in the compact space in a last ditch attempt to wake yourself up and hopefully look fresher by the time you reach the floor. “’sides, i’ve been so focused on work, it’s nice to see mom and dad every once in awhile.”

you’ve gotten used to referring to mr. and mrs. kim as if they’re your own parents - in a way, they are. you’ve known them for as long as you can remember.

“you have to be at the hospital by noon, right?”

you hum in confirmation. though you insisted on grabbing a cab to the hospital since it’s on the opposite side of the office, namjoon had insisted better. “mhm, oh we’re here.”

a ding! echoes throughout the elevator when it stops, doors opening to a hallway with black and yellow walls and ceiling, paired with honey marble flooring. it takes a few seconds before the black door at the end of the hallway to swing open but instead of the warm smile of the elderly lady, a bring and vibrant naeun beams at the both of you.

“you’re here. come in.” she steps aside, the hem of her sundress fluttering as she moves.

your body tenses at the proximity of the woman who you thought you could avoid until a much later time. and from the barely noticeable lifted brows that namjoon does, you know he wasn’t expecting his sister-in-law too. if she’s here, so is yoongi.

“we picked these up on the way.” you hand her the paris baguette paper bag. you’d ordered a mix of fruit tarts, cinnamon rolls and macaroon. all of which you remember mrs. kim mentioning to be her favorites. 

“oh! you shouldn’t have but thank you.” up close, naeun is much more prettier with a natural pinkish tint across her cheeks that makes her seem dreamy and glossed cheery lips that complements the gentle air she carries around. she passes the bag to one of the staff that’ll probably unbox them and plate them.

you offer her a smile - though a bit strained. and she must have noticed when she sighs softly, eyes darting to her fuchsia flats before looking back up at you with a furrowed brows. but even when she’s frowning, she’s pretty.

“i’ve been wanting to meet you and properly apologize for not being able to attend the wedding - i had an exhibition that day in prague and yoongi wouldn’t let me go by myself even though i thought at least one of us should go to his brother’s wedding.” she chuckles at the last part as if replaying the heartwarming scene of her protective husband choosing his wife over his family. you can feel every fiber of your body coiling and writhing - it takes everything for you not to leave through the door. would yoongi have done the same for you?

“this must be awkward for you, isn’t it?” her lips tug into a half-smile - a telltale that she’s equally uncomfortable to talk about this topic. “with you and yoongi being engaged before but now i’m the one married to him. but i hope we can put everything past us and be a family.”

but something in the way she talks - it’s as if she sympathizes. as if she’s saying it’s okay, you shouldn’t feel ashamed. but what are you supposed to be shameful of? of being engaged to yoongi before? of marrying his brother when said engagement fell through? perhaps you should have gave mrs. kim a hard ‘no’ when she pleaded with teary eyes for you and your parents’ forgiveness when she and mr. kim had to break the news over dinner two years ago. so you wouldn’t have to develop a hard skin and pretend you didn’t care about the ruthless rumors that have spread far and wide after your marriage to namjoon. 

“oh? yeah, it was a long time ago.” you offhandedly say - it’s that moment, when her eyes twitches just the slightest bit that you realize it wasn’t all just in your head. she did mean to make you feel embarrassed when she started mentioning the engagement.

you join namjoon and mrs. kim at the garden while naeun follows suit a second later, taking the middle among the three seats. the elder woman’s eyes light up at the sight of you, her heels clacking against the wooden flooring as she crosses the distance and engulfs you in a hug. you hug back, smiling at the woman’s motherly warmth.

“___, my favorite daughter, what happened to you?” she cups your cheeks, brows furrowing as she seem to examine your complexion.

you should’ve used concealer. 

“the hospital is working you to the bone isn’t it? why, it’s been awhile since i had lunch with chairman lee, maybe i should give his wife a call.”

that’s how it works when you have connections. if someone’s daughter or son fails to get into college or a job through regular exams or interviews, a dinner or lunch with the director of the institution will get the child admitted overnight. that’s probably why seokjin was harder on you than usual when you got back from your honeymoon - he must think you’re not serious about being a doctor. it’s not a secret he came from old money but he’d cut off all ties with his family when he started working. he has more ethics than half of the people you know.

“___ doesn’t like it when you do these things, mom.” yoongi grumbles - always the painfully honest one. the chair screeches as he pulls it and plops between naeun and namjoon while their father occupies the seat next to mrs. kim. it looks like they just came from mr. kim’s home office. and judging from the stiffness of their posture, the talk must have been a serious one.

namjoon’s shoulder line tightens just the slightest bit - you almost thought it was just a figment of your imagination but when you steal a glance at his face, you know he’s not too keen in having yoongi sit next to him. so you weren’t imagining it when he seemed like he was escaping yoongi by not waiting for naeun to come and walk with you to into the dining hall.

you’re not lost to yoongi’s familiar tone when he spoke on your behalf. but you’re not happy either. forcing a laugh, you push a strand to the back of your ear for the sake of doing something, “i-it’s not the hospital. i’ve been staying up late to work a bit on my research.”

a worker comes with the baked goods you brought. they’re plated on perfectly polished ceramic - you can easily see your forced smile in its reflection when the woman sets them down the table in front of you. 

“research?” yoongi lifts one eyebrow at you. too casually. and it takes you back to those times when you used to visit him at his college’s library and you’d bring your homework with you whilst you slip in a few ‘what i did’s as he typed away on his mac but still managed to keep up with you and asked questions here and there. a sign that he’d been present and listening.

“___’s been working on researching how segregate defective genes during the fetal stage so the fetus won’t take on their parents’ inherent diseases when they’re born.” namjoon explains the simplified version almost as though it’s part of his day-to-day line of work. he grins at you, the corners of his lips tugging with pride - a gratification of being able to show you off.

“that’s good. you’re making a difference in this world.” mr. kim is the first to break the silence. and in the years you’ve known him, it means the highest level of flattery you’ll ever get from the man.

your cheeks are flushed red and you know well enough it’s not because of mr. kim’s compliment than it is his son’s. “it’s still just a research draft but th-thank you. mister-” the elder man raises his brow and you quickly correct yourself, “i mean, dad.” 

he nods at the word, the slightest hint of smile disappearing under the cup of tea he brings to his mouth.

“but still, don’t push yourself too hard. working as a doctor takes up a lot of time already.” naeun fixes you with a worried gaze but something about her tone makes your stomach churn - it’s as if she’s playing down the time and effort you’d invested in your research and reminding you to focus on your paying job. even if you did downplay yourself when you were responding to mr. kim. before you can sort out the wave of emotions clashing inside you, namjoon seems to beat you to it.

“not everyone can do what ___’s doing. it’s okay if she wants to do more,” a hand slips under yours in your lap, reverting your gaze from the beautiful woman to the apparent difference in the size of yours and namjoon before you turn your cheek to him. it was a mistake because now you’re holding your breath as you come face to face. his body is leaned into you as he speaks, “i’ll just take care of ___ better.”

he turns to naeun, lips twitching upwards in a brief smile as if to enforce it more and putting a finality to the topic. but you’re left staring at namjoon’s sharp jawline until mrs. kim makes a squealing sound as she clamps her mouth shut in an attempt to tease you.

“gosh, is my baby all grown up now? he’s saying he’ll take care of his wife!”

the chuckle you let out is nowhere near natural or entertained. not when your insides are burning and you think your heart is going into overdrive from how fast it’s beating. and it doesn’t help that namjoon’s too casually playing along “of course, i only have one wife.”

x

“namjoon,” you take a second to gather yourself, hands fiddling in your lap as the car rolls to a stop in front of the lobby. the man fixes you with an inquisitive gaze. of course, who wouldn’t be wondering what’s up if their name was spoken with so much weight in them like you did with namjoon’s? “what was that? the wife thing?”

he stares into the street as he sifts through his memory before he fixes you with a gaze clouded with guilt, “i’m sorry. i got carried away - it won’t happen again.”

and that’s the thing. namjoon is too fast in admitting his fault. but you didn’t bring it up because you wanted an apology-

“no, i don’t mind.” you shake your head almost too eagerly before back tracking and clearing your throat, “i mean, it’s true. we’re married - i am your wife.”

the corners of his lips upturns at your last words and he doesn’t bother to hide it as he waits for you to finish - but how can you when he’s looking at you so tenderly like that?

“it’s just - too soon?” you curse yourself for sounding so meek but any louder, your heart might just jump out of your throat.

namjoon nods, that contemplative look settling on his face and takes away that smile only to return it with a dimpled grin. one hand slides in between yours and guiding the back of your hand to his lips.

“we’ll take it slow then.”

you can only nod, afraid that if you tried to speak, you would forget how to. the light rap on your side of the window catches both your attention. it’s the parking management. stealing a glance at the cars that are beginning to queue up behind you, you hurriedly gather your bag and hop out of the car.

cheeks flushed, you barely register waving back at namjoon when he leans over the passenger seat just to shoot you that dimpled smile and a ‘see you at home’.

you turn on your heels. the sharp click bounces against the white walls. a small smile spreads across your lips as you think about namjoon’s words.

yeah, the penthouse does feel like home.

x

this isn’t slow at all. you’re barely progressing.

it feels like everyday is passing by too fast what with the abundance of functions you’ve told namjoon you wanted to go with when you’re not working, to cramming some time for research and trying to find the time to at least make breakfast when you’re not on morning shift. though on some mornings, he’d beat you to breakfast and you’d wake up to the delectable smell of omelette or bacon.

“you must be thrilled about the new hospital, mrs. kim,” mrs. hwan is generally an agreeable woman along with her husband, the president of a small startup firm. they’re the first couple to approach you and namjoon since you arrived at the party. but that’s just it - the smiling, the talking, the eagerness doesn’t show in their eyes. it’s all about building connections while maintaining a good enough acquaintanceship. “are you going to be managing it directly since you’re a doctor yourself?”

“naturally,” the tug on your lips and the smoothness of your response is almost effortless. you’re no stranger to this scene - except back then, you would be standing next to yoongi. though your hand wouldn’t be tucked in his arm like yours is with namjoon. “though i still have a lot to learn, i hope the next two years will help me prepare to for eden.”

two years is the estimated time that eden hospital will be able to run. you’d finish your residency by then. all that’s left is to take the next step. just like your parents had planned for you as they’d planned many things. you never had the power to object.

mrs. hwan goes on to sprinkling empty praises while her husband laughs in deflated humor. they say the way to a successful business deal is through the wife.

once namjoon gets swamped by more people, you gently pull your hand away from his arm. you don’t miss the pleading look he fixes you when he notices your intention but you can only return a ‘you can do it!’ smile and slip away from the limelight.

the balcony area is dark, illuminated only by the fading light the pours over the floor past the door frame. you don’t expect the air to be this chilly at the beginning of summer but then again, namjoon did suggest bringing a coat - you were just too stubborn to because it would ruin the off shoulder look of your dress.

a sneeze escapes you a moment later as you hug yourself in an attempt to retain your body heat. but the warmth that engulfs you seems impossible to have come from just your puny palms - heck, your fingers were starting to feel prickly cold. there’s a sort of weight on your shoulders that wasn’t there before-

“idiot, you’re gonna catch a cold.” yoongi tuts from next to you - he has his hands in his pockets, all donned in crisp white shirt and checkered grey trousers and vest. all that’s missing is a matching blazer - the one that he placed around you just now.

somewhere in the recesses of your memories, you remember him taking off the muffler he had on and wrapping it around your neck when you showed up for your ‘christmas date’ with a pink nose and pinker ears - you could barely feel them. yoongi was that kind of person - the kind that acted like everything is a whole load of inconvenience and yet went to greater length to inconvenient himself for you.

“thanks. i thought i was going to freeze to death if i have to hide out here for another hour.” you tug the thick material of the blazer closer - the warmth of his heat feels just right.

“then you shouldn’t have come in the first place.” he must have noticed the higher-than-an-octave tone he uses before ruffling his hair - it’s the first you’ve ever seen him so unsure. is it really because of you?

“it’s fine. besides, what kind of wife would i be if i let namjoon get eaten by the pack of wolves by himself?” you chuckle at the fact that you’d done just that when you escaped the growing crowd of businessmen.

but when you notice the lack of humor on yoongi’s face, your own dies down. he’s staring at you with an indecipherable look. it’s not the bored expression he usually sports - not also the anger from the outburst just now. before you can say anything, namjoon’s lean silhouette appears in the doorway. you can’t see his face but his tone is strained. “we’re leaving, if you’re both done catching up.”

“so soon?” you know for a fact it probably hasn’t even been fifteen minutes - and you’re supposed to linger for at least two hours before leaving. that’d be enough time for namjoon to scout any potential business associate - the worthy ones at least.

“hey little bro.” yoongi waves, the disinterested look now returning but the way he phrases his next words oozes with revulsion. it’s no surprise. while yoongi hates these events - he’s probably here because of naeun, you heard the director of seoul’s annual art exhibition is here - namjoon strives off it. garnering attention and making the best of it by bringing in stockholders. “had enough of ass licking?”

you never understand the tangibility of the tension that feels the air when these two brothers are in the same room together - they’re barely able to remain civil in the presence of mr. and mrs. kim. anywhere without their parents’ watchful eyes, a fight would always be at risk of breaking out. whenever you were around, you’d be the one to interfere, whether it’s to tug on yoongi’s sleeve and tell him you’re hungry, or step in front of him just so he’d remember you’re here or right now-

“thank you, yoongi.” folding the blazer in half, you hand it back to the man - only that he’s not taking it back. momentarily, you wonder if you’d stained it with your lipstick or foundation but the lapels never touched anywhere above your neck. but deep in the crook of your conscience, you know it’s when his mind retracts back to you, to the present.

the sigh that escapes yoongi is a telltale of fatigue - you wonder if this is the first time of the day he came out of his studio. taking the blazer from your outstretched hand, he slings it over his shoulder, “don’t get too caught up with these functions. focus on your goal.”

your goal meaning what comes next in your career: the fellowship. you thought that information was lost on him, buried among the many things you told him just because you were comfortable telling him everything. 

and as you watch him walk back into the lion’s den, you wonder, how didn’t you realize he was in love with someone else during the visits you paid while he was doing his masters and phd?

x

namjoon doesn’t say anything about yoongi in the car. but both his hands are on the wheel. knuckles a little paler from holding onto the wheel.

“you don’t have to be part of eden’s board of directors.” he huffs, as though annoyed but from the way he continues, you know he’s not annoyed at you. he’s annoyed at himself. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to - i don’t want to force anything on you.”

and you know - you know more than anyone how conscious namjoon is of things. from the change in your mood to the people that tries to get close to him because of his status - that’s also why he didn’t kiss you on your lips that day. but a kiss was the prerequisite of a vow so he kissed you on the forehead. the area where his lips landed burns your skin as your cheeks flush from the memory.

“i know.” you hesitate for a heartbeat but reach out to cover one of his hands on the wheel still. to let him know that you’re not just saying that to ease the guilt.

when you pull away from the thought of how risky and distracting what you did was, the hand that you were lightly caressing pulls at yours, intertwining your fingers as he keeps them on his thigh. your entire body burns from the contact yet you’re sitting frozen in your spot. it’s the gentle squeeze on your hand that brings you out of your shell-shock state. a smile tugs on your lips subconsciously as you squeeze back.

x

the following week, you almost got into a fight with namjoon when he caught you dressing up prettily. he told you it was okay not to attend these functions anymore - the ones your tight schedule barely allow you to. fight was an overstatement. your feelings were hurt when he’d kissed your temple and said, “it’s okay, you don’t have to push yourself.”

well, you were but he wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. “can’t you see? i wanna spend more time with you and the only way i can is if we attend these functions together.”

in hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have thrown your strapless black diamond purse at him out of frustration.

but the following functions, you did spend more time together. he’d declined the usual advancement of business people the way only kim namjoon could pull off - with a dimpled smile and a hand around your waist as if to indicate that they were interrupting - and they were. they’d come up to the both of you while you were telling namjoon about a new skillet spaghetti recipe you’d wanted to try making for the long overdue dinner you owe him. and you’d expected someone to approach namjoon and take his attention away but you didn’t think he’d decline them.

“hm? i don’t think we have tomatoes or beef. should we go grocery shopping?” he suggests calmly as though he didn’t just turn down the chairman of tvn broadcast. the man had to do a double take in case he had mistaken namjoon’s smooth rejection.

you place a hand on his chest, restraining the urge to pull your hand away as if you’ve touched fire. you knew he goes to the gym for an hour after work and his shirts always seem a size too small around his arms but you didn’t expect anything beyond that underneath that shirt of his. you clear your throat when you realize his neck is craned so he could look at you - give you all the attention in the world, “you know, we can discuss dinner some other time - when you’re free.”

but neither of you are free. you barely see each other at home because of your unpredictable schedule and his that’s set in stone.

“then what would you rather us talk about right now?” a corner of his lips tugs upwards. if you first met him, you wouldn’t easily dismiss the smile as nothing more than because of his amiable nature. but you’ve been married for almost five months now and you clearly pick up on the playfulness that lights up his eyes.

“the desserts.” you announce too quickly in an attempt to avert his attention from what he’s thinking - one thing you’ve realized is that namjoon is painfully aware of your blushing fits and your avoidance to look him in the eyes. “they’re nice, aren’t they?”

all of a sudden, he’s scooping a forkful of the chocolate souffle he’d picked up from the desserts section while you’d opted for the luscious almond torte. a small smirk tugs on his lips as he holds the fork to your mouth the way he does during breakfast. he knows you have no objections of being fed like a child but he also knows where you stand with public display of affection.

“say ‘aaaaa’ and i’ll give you a treat, doctor ___.” and he loves to tease you. he’s taken to calling you that because of that one incident where he’d seen you discuss about a patient with one of the nurses while you were on your way to meet him. in his own words, he’d ‘never seen you this scary before.’

in your defense, it was five minutes till lunch break so it was still working hours and you were acting the way you usually did at work - but you’d understand. the person you are with friends and the person you are at work are two separate entities. suppose you’ve mastered separating personal business and work. namjoon seems to take pleasure in making that steadfast side of you squirm and blush like a tomato.

your fingerpads gently grazes the back of his hand as you hold the fork in place before taking it in your mouth. your eyes flit over namjoon’s for the briefest moment before taking a step back, licking the residue of souffle off your lips.

“they really are nice.” you murmur as you throw your gaze at the stage where a man sits at the piano before flickering back to namjoon.

you wonder why he’s so quiet all of a sudden -

the man in question still has the empty fork in the air, eyes wide and staring at you, you would’ve thought he’d seen a ghost. until you notice the dust of pink across his cheek and spread to the tip of his ears.

oh?

x

mrs. kim’s fundraiser is held at the school where the children attended. about four canopies were set up on the field. one for the children’s activities - you remember reading something about coloring, origami-making and storybook reading.  the volunteers - possibly college students hoping to earn the graces of kimcorp’s president’s wife for an internship - already have the children huddled up in groups of three or four.

one canopy is specifically set up for a table of wide range of food - if there’s anything you like about these functions, it’s the abundance of food they never fail to prepare. as if spending a lot of money on a fundraising event is something to flex about.

the other two canopies are for the people of interest - acquaintances of mrs. kim and those who come with an ulterior motive be it to get sponsors for their own project, a business deal or simply to regain a higher social hierarchy by falling into your mother-in-law’s graces.

you press a light kiss on namjoon’s cheek before he’s whisked away by the second category. business men who jump at the sight of your ceo husband who got a fair warning from mrs. kim to “play nice. what’s gotten into you all of a sudden? these days i keep hearing things about you turning chairmen down! your father didn’t work this hard just to raise a stuck up son that could ruin his business in a matter of days.”

once you’ve had a slice of red velvet and tiny macaroons, you decide to hide yourself from the few people who try to do the same to you when namjoon is too preoccupied by the ones who claimed his attention first. just like preys on the top of the pyramid sinking its claws, the lower level preys couldn’t come close.

but one manages to follow you into one of the classrooms.

“nothing’s changed has it?’ yoongi stands in the doorway, tuxedo and brown loafers and all. hands tucked into both his pockets, he strides across the room and stops in front of the window that overlooks the light pink canopies and the people underneath them. “same old assholes using a charitable cause to proliferate their influence.”

the muscles on your face pulls your lips into a disapproving frown, “that’s how our parents manage to give us an education. a good life.” you don’t agree to the way they go about it but you give credit where it’s due.

yoongi scoffs, his shoulders jolting slightly. you can’t see his face as he stands with his back on you but you know he’s smirking that condescending smirk. the first time you saw it was when you were in your senior year of high school and yoongi was doing his masters in business and accounting. he’d looked down on the man who approached the two of you like he was scum just because everyone knew his company was wallowing in debt and he’s desperate enough to ask the lion who hates the jungle for help.

“always finding a middle ground. if you like what they do so much, why did you become a doctor? why didn’t you follow their footsteps, huh?”

you can’t help but let out a tired sigh. you’ve been here before. you’ve seen this. yoongi hates the world he’s born in and you understand why but you can never feel what he feels. “why are you here, yoongi? shouldn’t you be with naeun?” there’s a pause. a heartbeat before you decide to let yourself free. say what you want to say. “before the wolves get to her.”

“she’s fine.” it's almost offensive how haughty he sounds. he must either be aware of nauen’s innocence that makes the wolves eliminate the possibility of her being a threat or he just doesn’t care. the latter presumption makes your stomach churn.

did he also not care about you when you were together? when you went to these events as a couple?

“we should head back. it would be bad if anyone saw us alone like this even though we’re just talking.” and that’s that. you turn on your heels, making way to the door but before you can even take another step forward, lithe fingers wrap around your wrist.

“what?” it comes out harsher than you intend it. funny how you put on a face of a woman made out of steel when your knees can barely hold your weight the moment you feel his warm hand on your skin.

“i knew - i knew but i didn’t want to tie you down.” with his head lowered and his long hair, you can’t see his eyes for an idea of what he’s saying. 

“yoongi, what-”

“i knew how you felt.” at that moment, his grip on you loosens. it’s almost as though it’s an overdue confession and the weight on his shoulders has finally lifted, “you only knew me - you turned down every boy that tried to ask you out in high school and college. you -you were only looking at me and i didn’t want that on my shoulders - i didn’t want you to turn down every opportunity to life - to dating, to heart break to - to sex with someone - several someone’s just because we were engaged.”

his fingers traces down your index finger before falling away. but you won’t tell him - you can never do it to namjoon - that it took all of you not to twine your fingers with his just because it felt like he was letting go.

your breath hitches in your throat when you turn your cheek towards him. the sight before you is something you’d never thought you’d see in your entire life. yoongi’s pink dusts his otherwise snowflake skin. the bored expression he usually wears is gone - almost as if he’s never worn it his entire life as something akin to desperation pools in those dark eyes. his soft pink lips are agape as though he wants to say something. and you wait, wait, wait but he never does.

so you turn your back on him, heels clicking against the ground as you slip past the door without a word. only when you’re at the end of the hallway, do you turn the corner, back pressed against the wall because your buckling legs might not be able to handle your weight.

those unsaid words - you can hear them clearly: i fucking regret letting you go.

x

the following week, you spend by drowning yourself in work and later working on your research until the library closes. by the time you’re pressing the 20th floor to the penthouse you both shared, you know for certain namjoon’s gone to bed. he values his sleep time. says it’s essential to keep himself in a good mood so others who work with him would be at ease. sometimes you want to tell him it’s okay not to think about others for once but the words lay buried the depth of your heart because you’re exactly like him. suppressing your feelings, smiling and saying you’re okay even though you’re not. the only difference is there’s a side of you that wants to lash out, do something worse to those who hurt you while namjoon does it from the good of his heart.

“it’s hard, being nice.” he says in between the clink of the stirring of the spoon in his coffee mug.

you look up from the peanut butter you’re spreading over your toast. “hm?”

he shakes his head, as if to say it’s nothing, i’m just thinking out loud. but the words he says next is enough to make your heart drop right to the ground. “yoongi told me.”

“wh-what?” it’s denial in your tone - the combination of those three words are simple enough to take you back to the school nine days ago. in side that little classroom.

“yesterday. he came over to the office.” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal but the tensed line of his shoulders is apparent no matter how casually he brings the mug to his smiling lips - that too. his lips are smiling but his eyes are not.

you don’t know when or how you started noticing the little things. sensing namjoon’s moods - his reactions and his retractions. you never realized you were so in tune with the things he does. all you realize is you’re already able to read him like a book - thick, best-leather book that was safeguarded by a lock.

“namjoon,” the clink of the butter knife being set on your plate resonates like a pin drop in a vacuum room, “nothing happened. i promise.”

“i know - i know you’d never do anything like that so that’s why i’m telling you it’s okay.” something in the way he looks at you make you bite your tongue - as if he’s asking you to listen even though you’re bursting at the seams. you’d do anything to prove that nothing happened even though you knew he knew. “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

he chuckles but it’s strained and tense, dumping the coffee into the sink because he couldn’t bear to stay in the kitchen any longer. you slip out of the high stool, feet padding around the counter and before you know it, your arms around his body. you feel him freeze under your touch and this is wrong - wrong on so many levels because he would have asked if he could touch you and you’re not reflecting the same amount of respect he had for you.

but for some reason, you can’t let go - you’re afraid if you let him walk out of the door, you’d never be able to grasp even a shadow of his existence.

“i don’t want to.” the words are muffled from your cheek pressing against his back.

a pause lapses between you when you don’t say anything else. no explanation. no reason. because you don’t know it yourself. you don’t know why your heart clenches in your chest at the sight of namjoon’s dismal smile. you don’t know why you acted on your instincts and hugged the man.

you don’t know.

“okay.” he sighs softly as a warm palm rests above your fisted hand. you wish you can see him - wish you can see what kind of expression he’s making because it’s killing you to not know what he’s thinking. “you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

that’s when the sniffle escapes you. internally, you curse yourself for being so emotion-driven. it’s not a good trait for a doctor to have.

namjoon calls your name. the syllabus rolling off his tongue makes your stomach churn with butterflies. “are you crying?”

you don’t expect him to say that. don’t expect the teasing undertone either. naturally, your respond comes a heartbeat later, “n-no.”

the body under your touch shifts. all of a sudden, you’re eye-to-eye with him. there’s a sparkle in them that almost makes you forget how to breathe. his dimples dig into his cheek as his lips curl into a smile whilst his large hands frames you face.

“wh-what?” you feel your brows furrowing, lips pursed.

“you’re too cute.” his thumb grazes your burning cheekbone feather light, “i want to kiss you.”

“then do it.” you don’t know the reason behind that angry, pressed tone but namjoon doesn’t seem to mind - or he knows something you don’t.

you don’t have the time to ponder on that when a pair of lush lips meshes with yours. the scent of the coffee he had engulfs your senses as one hand finds its way to the back of his neck and the other rests on his accelerating heartbeat. time seems to stop when namjoon’s kissing you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctly remember something perpetually important but you couldn’t be bothered as his hands fall away from your face and finds the dip of your lower back and pull you closer until your bodies are pressed together.

somewhere in a distant, you hear the beep of the front door. hoseok’s voice booming across the hallway that leads to the living room and the kitchen where you’re at now.

“namjoon? you here? did you oversleep? man, i never thought i’d see the day our ceo is late to work.” hoseok’s footsteps stops at the end of the hallway, “oh great, you’re all dressed.”

he blinks, surprised at the sight of his boss who’s leaning against the edge of the sink - hands pressed on either side of the edge, doing absolutely nothing while you dip a butter knife into a jar of peanut butter and jelly but equally as out-of-it as his boss appear to be.

“y-yeah, let me grab my blazer.” namjoon pushes himself off, going around the counter and heading towards the stairs where his bedroom is until -

“it’s here.” hoseok points out.

“what?”

“your blazer. it’s this one, right?” the secretary loyally scoops up the thick maroon blazer off the couch and hands it to his boss who’s just barely recovered from what seems to be a trance. 

he’d went down and tossed the blazer on the couch before making his coffee - before the kiss.

namjoon clears his throat, refusing to look at the man’s scrutinizing eyes as he thanks him and slips the blazer on. but he loses those eyes when he peeks over the man’s shoulder, mini-waving at you, “hey, morning, doc.”

you return the greeting, refraining a blush as you feel the ghost of namjoon’s lips when you fix his secretary a smile, “hey, hoseok. care to join us for breakfast?”

the man shrugs, eyes flitting over his boss who now seems ready to go, “thanks doc but i had some cereal and cold milk.”

he bids his farewell and escapes out of where he came from, letting the two of do what newly weds do before the other goes to work. it’s in that moment that he realizes with a chill running down his spine as he sat in the driver seat - that namjoon isn’t a bachelor anymore and he couldn’t come and go as he pleases and that he might have interrupted something. come to think of it, both you and namjoon’s cheeks were flushed...

“h-hey boss,” hoseok steals a glance of the man at the backseat through the rear view mirror. he almost chokes on his next words when the man’s eyes meet him but he persists like a man on a mission to not get fired , “y-you know, i’ve been with kimcorp. f-for a long time. i-it’s like my family a-and i’ll work harder from now on.”

confusion flashes across namjoon’s features for the briefest moment. he doesn’t know what makes hoseok say something so out of his character and shakily at that but it’s not the first time that his employee’s said something like this to him - of course, minus the stutter and all.

“that’s good to know, hoseok.” he says simply.

x

it’s been a week since you told namjoon you didn’t - wouldn’t see anyone. yoongi or not. when you told him you were going to meet yoongi at a cafe near his studio to give the man an answer - a hard no, there’s still some needling doubt in namjoon’s gaze as he reverts his eyes away from you. as though he was afraid that the illusion would fade away and he’d end up catching the smolder of passion he’d always seen you look at the man with.

he’s not lost to your feelings - in hindsight, it was pathetically obvious how smitten you were for the elder man. even your and his parents could see. and they’d foreseen many things but not having to plead and then beg and then finally, force you into a marriage you didn’t want with the brother of the man you loved.

your only regret was leaving without kissing namjoon goodbye - but it also felt like anything you said, any sort of assurance you offered would just be an act. until you tell his brother to stop.

“come to think of it,” you set the warm cup of latte down. it would have tasted better if the circumstances were different, “we never properly ended things. the only way i knew the engagement was over was through mom and dad.” his parents you meant.

he tilts his head to the side as a response - an indication that he’s listening. he’s dressed in plain white shirt and the darkest jeans. the bags under his eyes is an indication that he hasn’t slept in days - either it’s because of working late nights trying to make music or because of what he’d said to you.

you know he’d do this - detach himself from reality when things gets tough or when he’s stuck in a situation he doesn’t have control over. but you still had hope. still held onto the past seven years you’d spent together for him to regard you with enough respect to offer closure.

“do you love naeun that much?” and yet you still ask.

you meet his hollow gaze, not knowing the intensity yours hold until your fingerpads wrapped around aches and he lets out a heavy breath.

“she was different.” he says simply - almost tiredly, “she caught my eyes. we started talking and we found out we had some things in common. i thought she’s what i needed to get over you.”

“don’t.” the churning starts from your stomach and spreads across your body like a poisonous fog. “don’t use me as an excuse for leaving. you loved me as much as i loved you and you got scared.”

a lump forms in your throat as the memories, the inside jokes that built up over time, the comfortable silents spent - everything comes crashing in like tidal wave. you knew he loved you deep down. that was why the news of him getting married took a toll on you - so much so, you decided to leave everything behind and fly to paris.

“you could’ve pushed me away if you truly had no feelings for me but you kept me around and let me think we were going to have a happy future together.” his image is distorted from the prickles of tears in your eyes but you blink them away, “but you didn’t really know you were in love with me back then, huh? that’s why you got scared shitless and decided to leave.” you’re not sure if you’re choking on your words or if you’re actually scoffing. maybe both.

in that moment, you watch as yoongi’s expression switches from that signature boredom to realization and finally unbridled sorrow. he must feel suffocated - like he’s drowning in emotions the way you did in that suite you spent for two weeks in paris before you decided to buy an apartment and stay for good. and you would have if your parents didn’t call you back - recounted all their sacrifices for you to make you guilty enough to agree to the marriage with his younger brother. he’ll spend the same amount of time sleeping and waking up in his room and realizing he can’t turn back time.

“i fucked up big time, didn’t i?” he laughs dryly as he presses his palm to his face, hunched over the minute round table.

the latte is still half-full when you swipe your phone off the table and stand up. he doesn’t spare you a glance - he probably couldn’t bring himself to face you now.

‘you’re a fucking coward min yoongi.’ is what you want to say but for some reason, you leave the words to die on the tip of your tongue. you won’t - can’t wish him a happy life and propose to put everything past you. it’s not that simple and you’re not that forgiving. but namjoon’s easy smile flashes at the back of your head at this moment of all time and makes your heart clench painfully in your chest. their relationship is already strained and if you insist on prolonging this, it’s only going to end up hurting namjoon one way or another and the cycle will just keep going on with naeun getting hurt if she found out.

“you did.” your hand is trembling around the strap of your bag, “but it’s all in the past and i don’t blame you. things wouldn’t turn out the way they do otherwise. so just... live for the present, yoongi.”

his shoulders rise and fall a little faster than normal but there’s nothing you can do - and it’s better if you leave him to collect his thoughts. the censor at the door beeps as you pass through. it takes a moment for you to feel the morning air brush your cheeks and sunlight to seep into you. your chest still feels tight but in due time, you know it’ll lighten.

x

“hey, boss. you have a special guest.” hoseok peeks into namjoon’s office like the slyboots he is. the wiggle of the man’s brows before he disappears gives namjoon all the more reason to prepare for the worse.

“send them in.” he sighs, not bothering to hide his feelings in front of hoseok. they’ve been working side by side for a long time and friends for longer he knows his friend is aware of the contrasting definition of ‘special’ but this once, as he sees you walk through the door - he admits that him and hoseok may finally be of the same mind.

namjoon shoots up from his seat, clearing his throat and buttoning his blazer together the way he’s so used to doing it when he receives an unannounced visit from his father. “what brings you here?”

instead of shooting him one of your brilliant smiles, you drop your bag on the crisp white leather couch and run right into him. arms wrapped around his torso, he can smell your favorite floral shampoo from your hair but he can’t bring himself to hug you back. his heart is palpitating inside his chest and he can only pray for some miracle that you can’t hear it. which is most unlikely what with your head coming up just a few centimeters above his shoulder line and your ears being the same height as the beating organ in his chest.

if you notice, you're not saying anything about it.

“i met yoongi just now.”

namjoon doesn’t say a word for the longest time - it’s so namjoon of him not to. but it’s also not where you stand now. that day, when you partially admitted to liking namjoon and you’re pretty sure he felt the same - you’d seen a side of namjoon you never thought you’d saw. vulnerable. fearful. all because he thought he was going to lose you - and it felt like he’s always been prepared for it. it was just a matter of time.

the muscles in your arms contracts at the thought of namjoon being so ready to let you go - is it like that too, right now? is he expecting you to go back on your words and tell him you’re going to have an affair with his brother? you don’t know and that’s driving you insane. 

and just when the muscles in your arm contract, just when you’re about to pull away, namjoon’s arms band around your body and a kiss lands on top of your head.

“did you tell him what you wanted to tell him all this time?” his voice is velvet and smooth and you can hear that easy smile as he speaks.

you nod against his chest. “it’s over. i told him to get lost.”

the chest vibrates against your cheek as rings of chuckles tumble out of namjoon’s mouth. it makes your body light up with a sort of fire. and for once, you welcome the heat spreading across your cheeks like an old friend.

he knows the last part is a bluff - it’s comforting that he knows without having you say it.

does he also know...

“after that i came here because i wanted to see you.” you crane your neck to look up at him.

true enough there’s that smile and gets wider when he meets your gaze. a hand comes to rest on your neck while his thumb grazes your chin as he presses his lips to yours. you think your heart might explode at any moment now as you kiss him back, your hand snaking to his shoulder but he stops your right hand, holding it on his chest. his heart beats the same rhythm as yours. his shoulder line heaving the same way yours do when the back of your thighs hit the couch and you finally break apart. but before you have the chance to gather your thoughts, his lips are on you again. the hand on your lower back pulling you closer until your thighs press on either side of his legs.

“let’s go home now.” he murmurs between breaths, “i might really go crazy if i touch another part of your body that’s covered in clothing.”

it’s in that moment that the door swings open.

x

hoseok bursts through the door with the photostatted files in his hand. there’s a skip in his step.

“hey boss! here’s the files you asked for.”

he looks between you - well your back - and namjoon. the ceo is fixing his tie with a hard expression while you’re standing facing the ceiling-to-floor window that overlooks the streets and several stores in the area.

d-did he just walk into you two fighting?

“thanks, hoseok.” namjoon swipes the files from his hand, walking back to his seat around the desk and dropping the files with a sharp pap!

“n-no problem boss.” he takes one frightened step backwards before turning around but before he manages to escape the lion’s den, you stop him.

“hoseok wait.” it comes out a bit rushed. granted, you’re not in any position to waste time. you dropped by even though you know you can’t afford being late to work but somehow you ended up at namjoon’s office anyway. the secretary seems to physically turn into a rock before shakily turn his cheek to you with a smile.

“uh, yeah doc?”

“namjoon, do you mind me borrowing hoseok for a bit?” the heat comes on full force as you turn to namjoon. he’s burning a hole through the files he’s flipping through but you don’t miss the pinked tips of his ears and the way his adam’s apple bobs at the sound of his name on your tongue, “my shift is starting at noon so i need to be there by,” you check the watch on your wrist, “now.”

the way namjoon doesn’t even look up from flipping the papers is how hoseok know for sure you’re fighting. “sure thing. oh and hoseok, no detours. come straight back once you drop ___ off.”

but to you, it’s because he’s flustered beyond imagination - you know, like you know how he’ll condemn himself for not being able to control himself like that. your whole body heats up as you slip into the back seat when the image of namjoon’s hooded eyes, reddened cheeks and half agape lips flash at the back of his mind. a part of you - the reasonable one - chides yourself for even thinking about ditching work and actually going home with him but another part wishes to indulge in the endless possibilities of what will happen if you did.

x

“____,” your name tumbles out of namjoon’s mouth in a breathy huff. naturally so. he hasn’t even caught his breath from when he finds you crawling over him like a woman in on a mission. now, the same exact woman his cuffing his wrists and holding them over his head with one hand while the other is undoing the buttons of his shirt while she kisses him in all the right places.

“wh-where did you even get cuffs?” his headboard is one of those pristine white cushioned ones meaning there isn’t any rails for you to hook him on and keep him in place. but you don’t need that because namjoon can barely move - all that time he spends at the gym has gone down the drain as invisible threads tie him down.

“oh these?” you let one corner of your lips tug deviously. it’s been six months since you got married and you and namjoon has never gone past the occasional cuddles and light kisses. the morning after that day when you dropped by his office after meeting yoongi, namjoon had declared his intentions to ‘do it right’ - like dates and getting to know each other better before anything else. 

it was sweet of him. until you realized you barely had time for dates - only late night conversations that ended up with you on top of him but before things could progress, he’d do everything he could to avoid bedroom affairs. but over time, it gets a bit discouraging. so this is the last straw - there’s no wine or champagne for him to use as an excuse to carry you to your room. you’re both sober, and if he doesn’t want you -

“never mind where i got these.” the low sound emitting from his throat makes your heart skip a beat as your lips brush against the shell of his ear, “don’t you want me, namjoon?”

trailing hisses down his smooth jawline, you let your lips hover over his - it only lasts for a heartbeat before he closes the distance and starts kisses you like a famine beast.

“i want you,” he confesses when you pull away just to reinforce your control. he may be the one lying down with his hands bound but it almost felt like you’re the hopeless one here - almost. the  a feral glint in his eyes sends hot waves down your core - you have to tell yourself to breathe. “of course i fucking want you ___.”

you hum in contemplation - taking just enough time to sit straighter and let your fingers undo the rest of the buttons and stopping just above his belt. the few times you laid together and he lets you lie on top of him - you knew he was brains and brawn. but you didn’t expect a perfectly sculpted body of adonis himself to be lying beneath you. the ridges of his abs heaves helplessly as he drawn in deep breaths. 

somewhere on the edge of the bed where you’d tossed it, your phone vibrates - someone’s calling but that can wait.

you lean down, soft tresses brushing his skin as you kiss that spot that illicit a delicious sound from him the first time you discovered it. somewhere in the junction between his shoulder and neck.

“fuck.” his voice is raw and desperate and carnal as his body yearns for you. his legs bent at the knees, feet ground into the bed as he grinds his hip into you - the signs of his arousal painfully obvious.

you can’t help but giggle at the way he so vehemently yearn for you. somewhere on the bed, your phone starts vibrating again.

“y-your phone.” he manages to stammer out. it’s the third time it’s vibrating.

“don’t worry about it. the only people who would call me at this time is jisoo’s drunken butt dial or the hospital-” you sit back up, heat still pooling in your stomach when your hips grind against namjoon’s arousal in the process but the urgency in the way you swipe your phone off the sheets has stolen your attention.

clear as day, it is one of the two possibilities you’ve mentioned and it isn’t your quirky colleague.

x

when you first started working, you were of the ripe age and eager to help those in need. you loved your job despite the long arduous hours, missed meals and ungodly hour roll calls because at the end of the day, it was what you wanted to do - it was the one thing you wouldn’t let your parents take away from you. you fought blood sweat and tears to get where you are now.

and doctors don’t usually start a family until they’ve at least finished their residency - but you had to get married early to keep your end of the bargain. of course, you didn’t expect to commit to said marriage. you didn’t also expect to fall for namjoon either. and you certainly didn’t expect for him to still be here in the waiting area when you walked out of the emergency operating room, head lulling to the side as sleep begins to take him, arms crossed over his chest. he didn’t even get the chance to change when you hurriedly uncoffed him, informing him about an emergency at the er. he’d offered to drive you since you couldn’t drive and waiting for an uber driver to accept your request this late at night would take more time. you’d rushed out of the car with a ‘thanks, namjoon. i owe you one!’ thinking he’d go home and get some rest - there’s no telling how long these surgeries take after all.

when he leans too far to the side, his eyes flutter open softly before noticing the turquoise-clad body in his periphery.

“___, you’re done? did the surgery go alright?” he’s always had a way of saying your name. it makes your heart warm and your chest full as he stands up to close the distance between you - to cup one side of your cheek with his hand. though your delayed response may have been the reason for that.

“the surgery was a success.” you finally say, your smaller hand covering his, lips curving softly. guilt creeps up the creeks of your chest but gratitude washes it away. it wouldn’t have been very namjoon of him if he didn’t consider everything: how you’d go home once you’re done. if there’s even any uber working this late of an hour. your heart is swelling - you don’t think you can ever love him more than you do now but namjoon being namjoon, he’ll make you fall in love with him more and more until your heart is filled to the brim, “thank you, namjoon.”

and he gets it. just like that. the words that you’re saying without putting them into words because there are many ways to say it and a plethora of intrepreting it but namjoon gets it because his heart beats the same rhythm as you: i love you.

a dimpled smile curls over his lips as he places a kiss over your forehead, “should we go home?” he leans down to whisper into your ears, his tone changing dangerously, “and pick up where we left off, yeah doc?”

[yukipri]

One Piece Mermaid AU!

Featuring Luffy as a rubber mermaid who can’t swim, and Ace who carries her on his back as they pirate together.

＊Genderbend warning, fem!Luffy

Sliding in last minute for MerMay, bc idk about you, but I need something to mark that May has passed this year...

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

~~

Base headcanons for this AU beneath the cut! ↓ ↓ ↓

Luffy's a mermaid who was raised in Fuusha village, just like in canon. And, just like in canon, despite being a mermaid, she SUCKS at swimming, a fact that Shanks finds absolutely hilarious. She still wants to become a pirate, she still eats her devil fruit and becomes a rubber mer(?), she still gets kidnapped by Higuma (who sees her as an excellent way to rake in cash, given how valuable mermaids are on the slave market), and Shanks still gives her his hat.

As a devil fruit user, Luffy's already atrocious swimming skills are now at zero. She can still breathe under water, but will sink like a stone, her strength sapped by the sea, and if she loses consciousness she'll stop breathing too. Needless to say, she stays out of the water, and the villagers come to accept that sometimes, mermaids just live on land.

Garp still comes back, and is still furious at her wanting to become a pirate (and inwardly, extremely concerned that a bandit tried to catch and sell her), and still takes her to live at Dadan's where she meets Ace.

Ace has no idea what to think of the weird fish-brat who he's now told is gonna be his sibling, and resolutely ignores Luffy. He's inwardly slightly impressed as Luffy continues to follow him through the mountain every day, not even particularly hindered by lack of legs and using a mixture of crawling, squirming, hand-walking, and ricocheting forward with rubber arms to move.

Luffy still meets Sabo the same way as canon, and is still caught by Porchemy, who at first is thrilled because a mer brat! That'll bring in WAY more money than the spare change Ace stole! But in the end, he loses his temper at Luffy's stubbornness and still beats her to a pulp.

Ace and Sabo still rescue Luffy, and they still exchange sake cups and become brothers.

Yes, brothers.

Because at this point, neither Ace nor Sabo nor any of the bandits, nor anyone really on Dawn island save Makino and Garp actually know that Luffy's a girl. Not even Luffy.

The three brothers promise to each other that they'll all leave the island when they turn seventeen, setting out to sea to become pirates (Ace and Sabo are honestly a little concerned, given how often people try to sell Luffy, and how despite aquatic appearances Luffy's vulnerable af in water, but decide to wait and see. They have seven years together, Luffy ten until seventeen, who knows how much stronger their baby brother will get in that time).

Sabo "dies."

Ace and Luffy continue to train, and things don't change until Ace is seventeen, shortly before he sets out to sea.

He's let Luffy crawl into his blanket to sleep with him (partially cold-blooded, Lu gets cold easily when inactive), and Ace realizes that his lil brother's chest feels a bit lumpy.

Concerned, he makes Luffy have it checked out by the bandits, who are shocked to find developing...breasts?

That can't be right...right?

Dadan makes a call to Garp, who snorts and says of COURSE Luffy's a girl, didn't he say granddaughter?

No, he had not, he had only mentioned "grand child."

Everyone is shocked, but none more so than Ace, who really doesn't know what to do with this new information.

(Luffy's not quite sure what a "girl" is, and when she asks Ace, Ace honestly doesn't know how to define "girl" either, so she doesn't get what the big deal is)

Ace realizes he's troubled because he can't remember the number of times he's rescued Luffy from potential traffickers, and the number of times he's heard the lament, "Pity it's not female, it'd be worth quadruple," from the kidnappers before he beats them to a pulp.

He already had doubts about letting Luffy go out to sea alone, three years after he's left. But now knowing that Luffy's a girl, and one of the most sought-after species that traffickers target...he knows the world out there is much bigger than a teeny peaceful East Blue island, and Luffy may not get lucky every time, and may not be strong enough in just three years.

But at the same time, it's not like he can order her to stay here. There's no way Luffy'd listen; the sea calls to her, freedom calls to her, and Ace understands that more than anyone.

Sabo, Ace thinks, what would you do?

The night before he leaves, Ace tells Luffy that there's been a change of plans.

He's still leaving for sea. He's going to get stronger, and work his way towards becoming Pirate King.

BUT, three years later, Luffy will NOT leave Dawn Island alone.

Ace promises that he'll come back, a stronger pirate capable of looking out for his baby brother (because girl or not, they exchanged vows of brotherhood, and that's something that can't be changed).

He refuses to let Luffy be his captain, he's still got his pride, but maybe, maybe if Luffy becomes strong enough, he'll let her be co-Captain.

Luffy is thrilled, because she wanted to be pirates WITH Ace, and grudgingly accepts the compromise, and promises to train and wait for Ace's return.

Ace leaves Dawn island, and makes a name for himself on the Grand Line (he's PISSED when he finds out he's eaten a devil fruit, because now how's he supposed to rescue Lu from drowning when he can't swim himself???).

He even eventually makes it to Whitebeard, and eventually comes to admire the man. Whitebeard invites him to his crew, and Ace honestly replies that a large part of him wants to accept...but he can't. He promised his baby brother that they'll be pirates and co-captains together, and he can't join another pirate crew without Luffy agreeing too. Even so, and he knows it's selfish of him, he wants to call Whitebeard his father.

Whitebeard tells him that Ace is already his son, regardless of where his allegiances lie, and gives him his blessing to return to East Blue to fetch Luffy. Whitebeard laughs that he can't wait to meet the lil brat that Ace speaks so highly of, and for Ace to hurry up and come back to the New World so they can meet.

Ace plans on traveling light, his former crew all choosing to join the Whitebeard pirates except for his first mate, Deuce. Ace loves his crew, but they're also his crew, and knows that he wants to make their crew with Luffy. So he thinks he and Deuce will be a good starting point (You're just bringing me along bc you want someone who can swim on the crew, Deuce accuses).

As they're planning on leaving, Marco lets slip to fellow commander Thatch that he heard that Ace's "little brother" is actually a super cute girl.

The next morning, Thatch shows up too, insisting that he come along, because hey! He's been with the Whitebeards for ages and hasn't been to Paradise in a while, he wants some change! And won't it be nice to have someone as reliable as him along, just until they get back to the New World and reunite with the Whitebeards? Really he has no ulterior motives like wanting to check out Ace's supposedly hyper hot baby brother-sister!

Ace is suspicious, but Thatch is already on board and the other Whitebeards are already waving so he lets it go.

(Shortly after they leave, Thatch discovers a devil fruit. Deuce tells him to sell the damn thing, it'll taste like shit, but Thatch thinks boy wouldn't it be great to be able to woo Ace's hot brother with a really cool devil fruit power. So he eats it, and yeah it tastes like shit, but now he can control Darkness which is sorta badass?)

(Somewhere on the Whitebeard ships, Blackbeard is still waiting for someone to find the darkness devil fruit, and well, it doesn't happen)

Before Ace returns to Dawn Island, part of him still hopes that Luffy looks passably like a guy. Having been to Fishman island, having befriended Jinbe, he knows that while mermen can still be targeted, mermaids are exponentially more vulnerable. He's learned the kinds of clothing that can help conceal tails, and is hoping that there's a slim chance they might be able to be pirates without the world knowing that Lu's a mermaid.

His hopes are shot when Luffy rockets into his arms at the dock, and his face is immediately buried in enormous tits that definitely weren't there three years ago.

Despite Ace's growing concerns (and red face; why does he feel so hot??? It's not his devil fruit...), Ace lets Luffy give Deuce a beating (why me?!) to claim her position as Ace's Co-Captain of the newly established ASL pirates (because if we're pirates together, Sabo has to be with us too!).

Luffy's gotten a lot stronger, but is still utterly ignorant of the outside world and the dangers it holds (such as the drooling Thatch who immediately wins Luffy over with his cooking despite Ace's burning glares). She's reckless and falls into the ocean every damn day, and while Deuce dives in after her and they've discovered her useful ability to talk to fish to ask for help, it still gives Ace heart attacks.

They still pick up more crew members while in East Blue, including Roronoa Zoro, Usopp, and Sanji, a pervy cook who competes daily with Thatch for Luffy's affections through food (Luffy appreciates the food).

At Arlong Park, Luffy encounters fishmen for the first time in her life. Arlong mocks Luffy's choice of friends and family, and invites her to join his crew made of her own kind. Fishmen and mer are the superior race, and Luffy will make a fine wife, Arlong says.

Luffy breaks his nose off, and Nami joins their crew.

Luffy's chosen mode of transportation is on the back of one of her sturdier crew mates, usually Ace, but often Zoro too. She unfortunately hates all the long skirts/robes Ace suggested for her to hide her tail, and so Ace has decided that being as intimidating as possible while carrying his brother glued to his back is the only way to go.

Needless to say, news of the former Spade Pirates Captain + Whitebeard Commander Thatch (are they an extension of the Whitebeards??) establishing the new ASL pirates spreads fast. That, and rumors that there's a beautiful young mermaid on board who can't swim. And despite the strength of the crew and their attempts at vigilance, Luffy's still dumb and gullible, and is kidnapped (and rescued) a dozen times before they're even on the Grand Line.

(after a few times, Luffy's uncharacteristically quiet, and privately asks Ace if they can break up the crew. She's holding Ace back; she not only made him come back to her, but half their adventures just seem to be her crew rescuing her. She's strong enough to defeat enemies, but not save herself. Ace tells her to shut up, and never bring this up again; they're BROTHERS, and he's not going to leave her behind or make her abandon her dreams when she can't accomplish them alone, and that's his choice. Luffy doesn't bring it up again, but works harder than ever to become stronger and earn recognition as co-Captain when the world seems intent on thinking of her as Ace's pet.)

During one of these kidnappings, Luffy's successfully brought all the way to an auction house before her crew can rescue her. An auction house that unbeknownst to them, was under investigation by the Revolutionary Army.

Liberating slaves is an unfortunately common mission for them, and Sabo's doing final sweeps as Koala frees the last of them when he notices a tank stowed away in a corner. He's familiar with these tanks, used to showcase mermaids in the rare occasions one can be caught, and it looks empty but he's still drawn to it for some reason.

It's only when he gets closer that he notices a mermaid crumpled at the bottom of the enclosure. She's completely slumped over, and he's afraid she's already gone, even as something about her screams with familiarity.

He's cracked the tank and has reached in to pull her out, when the wall behind him explodes in flames, revealing a furious Ace who snarls at the strange man with his hands on his baby brother...

...and then Sabo's memories come back.

~~

Something like that???? For an initial HCs dump????

This AU has continued! A LOT! Check out the comics, illustrations, and text stories for this AU under the Mermaid AU section of my One Piece Masterpost!

As always, REBLOGS, tags, asks, and comments greatly appreciated!

Advance posts for this AU and more are on my Patreon! (Patreon(.)com/YukiPri)

[imkylotrash]

Peculiar World

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Request: Can you do a Saul x wife reader who has magic. She was raised by Damon and was maybe a teen in season 1 of TVD so she was involved with all the crazy. She's also bffs with Klaus and Hopes godmother. She's is a teacher at alfea and the SBS. She is also a mentor to Riven like Saul/Sky.I kinda want to see Saul reaction to all of this as he knows about TVD but never met them. Anonymous

A/N I'm a little limited in my knowledge of Legacies so I've had to leave a little of the request out but I hope you like it anyway! 💛

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle​ @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi

"This is going to be an amazing place, you know." You're standing in the doorway of the newly funded Salvatore Boarding Scool remembering all the memories it holds. Alaric turns around with a smile crossing the room to hug you tightly.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't become a stranger when you moved." You can't help but chuckle. It's not exactly like you just moved a state over.

"I moved to another realm, Ric. It's a little harder than an hour's drive." A couple of students hurry outside laughing. It takes you back to your own high school days though you didn't have a place where you could practise magic openly and safely. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd had to use your magic to save everyone alongside Bonnie, how many times you'd grieved the loss of a loved one and the joy you felt when they made their way back to life.

"I thought I heard my favourite witch." Damon comes walking down the stairs and you must admit that humanity looks good on him. The biggest surprise is Elena not being next to him. When you left, they were quite literally joined by the hip.

"Don't let Bonnie catch you saying that," you chuckle but you're really just happy to see him. He took you in when your parents died and since then the Salvatore mansion had been your home. Back then you'd been his only redemption before he actually started being a good person. Elena had brought it out in him but you like to think you were the beginning of the development. He'd saved your life more than once.

"Don't worry. I tell her the same thing when you're not here." He ruffles up your hair making you feel like a little kid all over again. But this time you're a married adult with your own life and Damon knows that too.

"You look good," he says pulling you in for a hug.

"You too. Apparently, married life suits us both." You know Damon has been torn between wanting to hate Saul for stealing you away and appreciating the fact that he makes you very happy.

"Who would've thought?"

You return to the present realising that you've been standing under the running water long enough for it to turn cold. You use a little magic to quickly dry off your hair so you can be on time for class. You still have no idea how Saul managed to get you a job at Alfea when you're not even a fairy but it makes your marriage a lot easier. Neither of you likes being away from each other but working at Alfea has kept you from your family a lot. You love Saul but you miss Mystic Falls. It clouds your thoughts all through class and by the time you've finished, you're calling Damon to hear how everything is going.

"Hey," you say trying to keep your voice neutral.

"Hi stranger," he replies but you can tell he's busy judging by the sound of chatter in the background. That's when you remember it's family dinner night.

"I completely forgot. We'll talk later." You hang up before he has any time to respond. Your eyes sting but you refuse to cry. It's just tough being away from them all the time. You have more than enough here with Saul and Riven but you miss home.

"I know I'm not a mind fairy but the look on your face says more than enough. What's wrong?" Saul asks. He's just entered your shared bedroom and he looks ready to collapse after a long day.

"It's nothing. I just miss home." You wonder how big the twins have gotten by now and how Hope is doing. You hate to admit that as her godmother you haven't done a pretty good job at being there for her. You text constantly but it's not the same as seeing her. You had promised Klaus to take care of her before he sacrificed himself and then you moved to another realm.

"We could always go visit?" You lock eyes with him never having been more in love with him than right now. Saul has never visited Mystic Falls. Frankly, you'd been terrified to merge those two worlds but now you felt like you had to. You wanted him to know the people who had helped save you and been there as you grew into your own person.

"I'd love that."

==

"This looks pretty impressive." Saul is standing next to you by the gates of the Salvatore Boarding School looking in awe at the place. You know Alfea is a gorgeous place but it has nothing on the Salvatore mansion.

"Walk me through it again. Vampires, werewolves and witches all in one place?"

"Also, hybrids and tribrids which still doesn't really make sense to me but essentially that's the big three, yeah." You laugh a little as you watch the confusion cloud his face. You grew up here and you still struggled to understand all the stuff that happened.

"We're not staying here for long. Damon invited us over for dinner but I just wanted to stop by here." You keep a lookout for any familiar faces and much to your surprise you spot Hope locking lips with some curly-haired boy.

"Hope?" you exclaim. She is definitely not old enough to be dating and the sight makes you temporarily forget about Saul who's currently fighting the urge to draw out the dagger he always hides in his boot. The soldier in him is terrified of vampires and werewolves thinking of the horror stories he always heard as a child despite your reassurances that they were people the same as the fairies.

"Y/N?" Hope runs right into your arms not believing her own eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asks excitedly. Seeing her makes you realise just how much you've missed this place. You introduce her to Saul who's trying to take everything in and relax a little. You don't blame him. Hearing about vampires and werewolves is very different from actually being around them. Some vampires still give you the creeps even now.

"Thank you for coming," you whisper as Hope leads the way to Alaric's office. She's talking so much she doesn't even notice you saying anything. It's nice seeing her so happy and confident in herself compared to seeing her back in New Orleans. This school had really helped her.

"Here we are," she says stopping in front of a set of doors with Ric's name on it.

"We're staying for a few days. How about you ditch school tomorrow and tell me all about that lover boy I caught you with outside." Hope is quick to agree before heading back outside. It's nice seeing her happy. You know Klaus would've enjoyed it too.

"You ready?" He nods his head and you open the door to see Ric and the twins. It's a happy reunion adding to the feeling of missing out on everything.

"If you miss it so much, I've got a job opening? You could come to teach every other week to make your schedule work." Could it work? Could you have the best of both worlds? You look over at Saul who looks just as surprised as you. It would take some work and planning but you needed this.

"Do you think we could make it work?" you ask Saul hoping he'll say yes. Hoping he'll support you.

"I think you gave up a lot for me by moving to Alfea so it would only be fair that we made this work. Of course, we can make it work." He's still freaked out by the number of supernatural people running around here but he has to admit that it's pretty impressive they all manage to co-exist. He's eager to learn more about them and the history behind their existence. It's also a huge plus that he gets to see you happy.

"I guess my answer is yes then."

[allhailthecoffeegods]

A lonely kitty in Gotham

Chapter 1

Tired... Marinette was extremely tired. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep but instead she sat staring at the wall of her office in her small apartment she had bought and was now living in because her parents kicked her out.

Why was she staring at the wall you may ask? Short answer, she had finally done it! She had finally tracked down Hawkmoth and Mayura after 3 years of fighting she now knew both of their identities (Gabriel Agreste and Natalie Sancoeur) and not only that but she had an entire file filled with proof. Now all that was left was to take back their miraculous and hand them over to the police (not before cursing them first... obviously).

Unfortunately it’s not going to be as easy as it sounds. You see Marinette or Nettie which she goes by now was alone, completely and utterly alone.

No Parents, no family and no friends.

Three years ago Nettie had all of the above she was happy, she had a best friend Alya and a group of many friends from her class, she had two loving but slightly distant parents who ran the most popular bakery in all of Paris possibly even France and her amazing grandmother Gina who traveled the world and told her all about the crazy things she did (some of which she promised not to tell her parents about because it may have been considered breaking the law but nothing reallllly bad).

But all of that soon changed over the first year Hawkmoth terrorised Paris with his akuma and was later joined by mayura with her sentimonsters. Slowly she lost everything including her partner in fighting crime Mr.Bug holder of the ladybug miraculous.

Nettie is in procession of not only the black cat miraculous but also forcefully became the last remaining guardian of 18 other mini gods that are bound to jewels (excluding the butterfly and peacock (not that she would ever give them up because they are basically her family now and she will do absolutely everything to protect them)). How?

Running late to class 3 years ago she saved a (very) old man (186 years old to be specific) from being hit by a car, and for some reason that was enough for him to “gift” her the black cat miraculous as he saw her true chaotic soul and aura (it didn’t matter that she was only 13 YEARS OLD!) he thought it was a brilliant idea to turn her into a child soldier fighting a war against two supervillains more than double her age.

After and introduction to the one and only God of Destruction, who by the way is OBSESSED with the stinkiest of cheeses, she became one of Paris’ main superheroes Kitty Noir alongside her partner Mr.Bug who she guessed to be around the same age as her at the time. It was easy to deduct that he was going to be more of a problem instead of a partner due to his obsessive and intense flirting and lack of skills other than some possible fencing training, all in all he didn’t have a clue how to fight. He was also apparently extremely reckless... like more reckless than her pouring 2 energy drinks into coffee before downing it and has died so many times in a fight she now also has a close relationship with tiki the God of Creation having had to end the fight herself (honestly why did the old guy pick him because it seems like he didn’t even do a similar ‘oh help save me’ situation like he had with her otherwise the old guy would already be dead!) Even though she wasn’t that much better to begin with she did have some hand to hand combat training curtesy of Gina and her ‘friends’ (let’s talk about those later). And she was now training in martial arts and going to the gym to build more muscle and become better without the enhanced supersuit just incase (she also sticks a domino mask on before transforming because she’s paranoid okay and if she is ever forced to detransform she doesn’t want anyone knowing her identity right of the bat to use against her, okay!)

Alongside that she was also extremely smart (like genius level) great with technology and quick to come up with some absolutely insane but brilliant plans. This all resulted in her taking on more of a leadership roll whilst fighting akumas. Mr.Bug only got worse as time went on and her civilian life went downhill, it took 8 months for the old man (previous guardian of the miraculous and temporary mentor for 2 of the months) to become compromised and pass the roll onto her. And the first thing she did was take the ladybug miraculous back and erase the holders (Adrien Agreste her former friend) memories of being Mr.Bug.

The only problem with that was the battle Miracle queen where master fu (the old guardian man) was compromised, and so were all 8 of her temporary heroes except Viperion, holder of the snake miraculous, who had started to tour around the world with his farther Jagged Stone) this ment there were two consequences of taking The ladybug back, the first being she was now alone against two superpowered terrorists but also that she had to switch transformations at the end of a battle to be able to purify the Akuma and cast the miraculous cure to fix everything and yes that did include... resurrection of people who died in the cross fire.

Anyways, back to how Nettie is alone. Only a few weeks after the first attack, an exchange student transferred to the the newly dumbed Akuma class *sigh*. At first she seemed nice and had and was telling the class of her interesting life, her mother was a Italian diplomat and she’s traveled the world.

But Nettie had a bad gut feeling about Lila Rossi which unfortunately was correct. On her third day in the class she started gushing over how kitty noir aka Nettie dearest (obviously unknown to everyone else) saved her from and Akuma attack and they became “best friends”, to say Nettie was left speechless and confused at the lie is an understatement.

Regrettably Nettie was unable to prove her story was a lie because how would she know said superhero didn’t save her without revealing her secret identity.

But the girl carried on creating more and more outlandish claims, such as how she saved Jagged Stones cat on a jet runway (like come on seriously what airport would allow a CHILD of even a cat to run out onto the tarmac). But pointing this out was apparently a mistake which Nettie soon discovered in the girls bathroom after class. Lila sauntered in with a sickly sweet smile that was soon dropped when Nettie refused to give into this girls bullshit.

Hence she was pinned against the wall and threatened, that if she didn’t go along with lie-la’s lies she would lose everything she loved before leaving so she wasn’t caught. Not believing her Nettie continued to point out inconsistencies and facts that contradict her story’s but no matter how much proof was presented to the class lie-la was able to turn it around (meta theory coming into her head: maybe she wasn’t affected because of the miraculous magic) and plant the idea that Nettie was a bully into all her friends heads which apparently all share one brain cell ( or so she thought until Adrien confirmed he knew they were lies to but he was taking the ‘high road’ because nobody was getting hurt, it’s definitely not like lilas ruining all there future careers by promising favours and opportunity’s that will never come and convincing them they no longer need to put in any effort for their futures *insert eye-roll* ).

So life continued and her friends started to turn on little Nettie the scattered brained, clumsy girl who bent over backwards to protect and make sure they were all happy. It hurt more than words could describe the day Alya her BEST FRIEND led the class to turn their backs on her and declare they no longer want to be friends with a jealous bully anymore.

Luckily Nettie wasn’t akumatised but she came very close to it. The only things keeping her going were her duty to Paris and her family.

But as a consequence to that good luck, bad luck hit like a truck. She didn’t know for a few weeks until a guy named Jason called her parents to inform them that her favourite person in the whole world her amazing grandmother Gina had passed away in a accident somewhere in the United States. And if that wasn’t bad enough Lila also managed to place a seed of doubt in her parents around the same time. Life fucking sucked. She wasn’t able to process and grieve due to Hawkfuck still being around so instead she threw herself into creating her own business (NeTi Designs) doing commissions, did I mention she’s a talented fashion designer... no, well now you know. As well as diving head first into a very thorough investigation on mothfucker in between fighting Akuma, helping in the bakery, plus training and patrolling the city of lights for two hours each night.

Atleast she didn’t have to make excuses to not hang out with her ex-friends anymore heh heh *cough*.

Eventually this resulted in her parents questioning her on her disappearances from her room after randomly checking in one night while she was out patrolling and the conversation sort of went like this.

“Marinette, where have you been?! I just checked your balcony and you weren’t up their. It’s 2am” Sabine exclaimed when she dropped back onto her bed moments after detransforming. “Mamma I swear I was up there and I fell asleep in the corner near my pillows behind the deck chair. I just woke up from the cold and I thought I herd movement and panicked because ‘oh my gosh!’ Is it an Akuma but it wasn’t it was you mamma” Nettie responded with dramatic waving of her hands and a fake smile.

Sabine was NOT impressed and most certainly knew it was a lie but it was 2am and she couldn’t deal with this right now so she glared at her daughter whilst leaving her room through the trapdoor.

This continued for two weeks with both her parents randomly checking in. Nettie had to eventually relocate her research into a small apartment a few streets away from the library (which she paid for with commission money that nobody but her knew about especially since her business was doing well and she didn’t put it past her class to try and destroy that if they ever found out) and say she was studying to not be caught doing deep background checks on all her suspects, making files for every Akuma and tracking the butterfly’s on a app she created that has multiple resources available to the public ranging from an alert for attacks that can be activated all the way to videos she made in her hero persona showing things such as meditation or basic self defence that should only be used if they’re unable to get to a safe area away from the Akuma or to buy time to then get away depending on the powers of said Akuma. (Could also be useful in regular crimes like attempts at mugging)

This lead to longer disappearances to the point all her stuff that had any value to her or was related to business and miraculous matters (so basically everything) she was practically living there already. Not that she realised since she got maybe 5-6 hours of sleep and week? She was so enclosed in her little world when her parents decided they had enough (after multiple accusations of her sleeping around with older men and doing drugs (all tests came back negative because her choice of drug was caffeine) which where definitely lilas doing) her parents yelled at her to get out and never come back... so she did the only thing she had to grab where her pillows and fairy lights and she was out of the door, the situation was dubbed a future Nettie problem because ya know suppressing your emotions so the world doesn’t end.

(Authors note: I have plans on making this a series. Hope you guys like it 🙃)

[mintseesaw]

love like that

Prompt: You fainted during your shift in the hospital. And Dr. Min, whom your colleagues have no clue of your relationship with, has to be the one to check up on you. Pairing: doctor!yoongi x doctor!reader Genre: fluff, fluff, lots of fluff, established relationship au, drabble Word count: 1.5k rating: pg-13 Warnings: reader’s disregard of own’s health, imposing of punishment, literal spoon feeding if it makes you cringe lol a/n: something light before I update aurora ;) wrote this in honor of my fave yoongi look so far which is pretty obv on the banner haha

As you come back to consciousness, your eyes flutter open, only to shut them close at the blinding hospital light pointed directly at your line of vision. The pristine white walls illuminating the ambience of the sickly familiar room only gave you a dizzy spell.

Still dazed with the remnants of being unconscious, you couldn’t seem to find the last bit of your memory and why you’re lying in a bed inside a familiar facility instead of being the one to check the patients up, yourself. With your eyes closed, you heard a familiar voice spoke, breaking the oddly cold silence, “You okay?” “Why am I here?” You manage to ask with your desert dry throat and a pounding head.

“You fainted.” Yoongi responds briefly. Right, you did! When and where did it happen, again?

”That doesn’t mean I have to be here. How long was I out?” “About 6-7 hours. Your blood pressure dropped, so is your blood sugar. You’re sleep deprived and you haven’t been eating?” He answers in his usual thickly low, professional tone. If you only cared to listen closely, you’d notice he sounded like a father scolding his child for skipping proper meals over sweet treats, than a caring boyfriend that he actually is. You also fail to see the way his forehead creases, him sporting a cute pout while he scolds you with his deadly, monotonous tone.

The nurse, who is on the other side of the bed currently administering a vial medication through your IV, didn’t miss the coldness seeping through Dr. Min’s voice as her thumb slowly pushes through the end of the syringe.

However, the proximity between the two doctors picques her curiosity. The terror senior cardiologist and the junior resident are physically too close to only be labeled as mere colleagues. On your second attempt, you squinted your hypersensitive eyes. Blurry sight steadily adjusts to the familiar figure. As your vision becomes clearer, you finally get to see your boyfriend, Dr. Min, clad in his usual knee length white coat. The undone buttons of the white fabric lets you have a glimpse of his inner dress shirt and the black pair of slacks his lean legs adorned.

Your eyes remain glued on him, not minding the faint sting of the thick liquid as it seeps through your veins from the back of your right hand. The intimidating, gorgeous doctor that you luckily call your boyfriend returns the same longing gaze.

Prior to your fainting spell, the last you’ve properly seen and talked him was two days ago, when he had arrived at the hospital which was only an hour left of your shift.

“I didn’t notice, I guess I was just... occupied?”

Unexpectedly, he flicks your forehead which stung more than the medicine flowing through your veins. “Idiot, you almost got yourself killed.”

“Yoongi!” You whimper in protest.

Yoongi crouches his upper body, dipping his head low to soothe the now reddish area on your forehead with the supple pair of his lips.

He would not want to go through that frightening moment, again. He had seen the worst of the worsts, but having to experience the same thing that his previous patients’ families had endured turns out to be his own nightmare.

Yoongi received a call from a junior resident several hours ago. Ironically, your colleague chose to call Dr. Min out of all the cardiologists in the hospital. The junior resident assumed your case isn’t just a mere fainting spell of fatigue.

He rushed his way to the hospital, furiously driving his car like a maniac. How could he not? When your colleague suggested to place you in ICU if your blood pressure continued to drop. With you remaining unconscious, medications and supplemental fluids had to be administered through your IV to help normalize your vital signs. Fortunately, your body has responded with the medications. “You should eat before I leave.” He murmurs, peppering your skin with his warm breaths.

You didn’t respond, having other intentions in your mind. Lightly tilting your head up, you hover his parted lips. From the looks of it, you two seemingly forgot you have other company inside the room. At the unexpected sweet display of affection, the nurse quietly gaped as you both became too outworldly with each other.

“Only if you’ll eat with me.” You propose. Then Yoongi draws back, pulling the retractable board up over the bed as a makeshift table. Swiftly, he places the tray there which carries the hospital prepped meal that includes porridge, soup and side dishes.

The flustered nurse cleared her throat, silently excusing herself to give privacy to the newly discovered love birds.

Yoongi darts his eyes to the female staff who refused to meet his gaze. Adjusting his heavily graded specs on the bridge of his nose, he takes the chair beside the hospital bed.

Having no sense of will to consume food, you unwillingly pull yourself up. Yoongi then hands you a water bottle, which you took in his hand and eagerly chugged down half of its content in no time. But then the unappetizing food in front of you makes you scrunch up your nose in disgust.

Peaking on your left to look for alternative food that is a little appetizing than the ones Yoongi served, you found nothing else. Other than his daily dose of caffeine. You had enough of it for the day, but you‘d rather have another one or anything else other than that meal.

“Can I have some of that?” “What,” Yoongi pauses, only to follow where your gaze has been directed. When he realizes what you were referring to, he sternly objects, “No, not until you’ve completely recovered.”

Pouting in defeat, you silently huffed, crossing your arms against your chest. You really have no full intent of eating the food, but when you meet Yoongi‘s warning peer, you’re forced to mimic his movement as he obtains a spoon.

Holding the silverware between your fingers, you silently watch him scoop a generous portion of porridge in his spoon, thinking he would eat the porridge himself. But he held it forward, near your lips. The slight arching of his eyebrow made you slowly part your own lips, as if he has this mythical power over your body.

I thought I asked him to eat with me? And not make me eat?! You silently complain.

Yoongi didn’t stop pestering you with the porridge, almost force feeding you with his deadly stare. Something that you didn’t want to mess with ever again. However, on the sixth spoon, you finally had the courage to push his arm away, not liking the way it is making your stomach oddly churns.

“You barely touched your soup.” He proceeds to scold you, coaxing you with another spoonful of porridge.

Whining, you shook your head. “No more,” Then you lean your back against the headboard to increase the proximity in between. “Can you release me now? I have to attend to my patients. What about the meeting with my team? Oh God, Professor Kim—”

“You are my patient, baby. You need to be closely monitored until tomorrow. Don’t worry about your shift for now, your superiors will understand.” “But do I have to be here alone for the next 24 hours?” You gloomily asked, sulking. Realizing there’s no way for him to stay with you here considering he has one of most hectic schedules among the senior residents. He chuckles softly, reaching out to smoothen your protruded lips with his thumb. Gone is the terror doctor from the cardiology department.

“I’m afraid so. I would stay here with you if I could. However, I have an operation in about fours hours’ time. But you’ll go home with me tomorrow so I can watch you over.” “Really?” Your eyes instantly light up, loving the idea of you and him sharing an apartment. You considered the thought before, however, you think it’s too soon for you two to live together. And you understand that Yoongi strangely craves the isolation, so you have not brought up the matter. Unless he asks you to. Technically, you’ll only stay with him for a couple of days.

Still, this is a progress. “Hmm. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He whispers, taking in the elation dancing in your eyes. He cups your cheek, thumb rubbing indefinite paths to the expanse of the soft muscle. “Which reminds me, you won’t be spared with forgiveness this time.”

“W-What?” “Ten,” emphasizing his next word with a slap on the side of your scrub suit clad hip before continuing, “for each round. You like being punished, do you not my love?” You yelp, eyes rounding from shock. “I will make sure you’ll be sore enough, you won’t be able to come to work for a week, baby.” He promises, his orbs growing dark as his mind starts to reel with lewd fantasies of you. His warning alone had you instantly weak in your knees, the familiar heat rapidly spreading in your stomach, and all you could do is fist his white coat, groaning achingly in need.

Yoongi smirks, knowing full well what the sound means, then invades your mouth in a searing kiss.

mintseesaw © 2020

[supercorp-hosie]

Discussion: is Hosie more of a supportive relationship or a toxic one?

While we all agree that Hope and Josie can sometimes be shitty, disrespectful, and manipulative to each other, I think that they are mostly supportive to each other. There are some people that think the opposite and conclude that Hosie is toxic. While I don't have problem with people shipping toxic ships too, I genuinely think that Hosie is mostly healthy for each other. To get a hold whether Hosie is supportive or toxic, I make this list of all Hosie interactions/scenes up to 3x13, which can be categorised as supportive or shitty that I can remember along with some of my thoughts. If you don't agree with me or forgot something, feel free to remind me or discuss them!

Thank you for making me feel the need to make this list. @legacies-supremacy

Thank you for helping me with some of the points. @dreamerdiving

The definition of toxic relationship is: “any relationship [between people who] don’t support each other, where there’s conflict and one seeks to undermine the other, where there’s competition, where there’s disrespect and a lack of cohesiveness.”

I marked those interactions/scenes that is harmful to Hosie in red so we can see it easily.

1. Josie burn down Hope’s room, without apologising

2. Josie made up stories about Hope calling Lizzie witch bipolar

3. Hope and Josie do dark magic together (hope ask for help, kindred spirit in revenge)

4. Hope stand up to Lizzie for Josie, while Lizzie threw Josie under the bus

5. Hope protected Josie by not telling Emma Josie being the one using dark magic with Hope

6. The scene where they pick trash, they connected really fast. It’s shown that they can have good communications between them.

7. Josie pays her respects to Hayley in front of Hope. It means a lot to Hope because she values her family.

8. Hope encourage Josie to voice up, fight for the things she desires. Josie helps Hope on her poked-herself situation.

9. They fought the first monster ever IN THE SCHOOL together. (Hope calls Josie to help, and Josie immediately do so)

10. Fight the spider-like monster together along with Lizzie.

11. The necklace that Hope gave Josie, make quiet things heard.

12. Hope, MG, Penelope save Josie together. Hope is very anxious (maybe more anxious than Penelope seems?), the necklace worked.

13. AU where Hope doesn’t exist, Josie dies.

14. AU where both of them straight up flirting, Hope comes to bring the Saltzmans to the Mikaelsons Boarding School, giving the twins a place to use and improve their magic freely. And mostly like cleans up the mess of Lizzie’s outburst (no blaming here).

15. When Hope was on slug, Josie is the first to suspect that she’s on happy pill, which is very close to the fact. While Landon and RAF see that she’s very happy but don’t think much of it, because they were new to her (no blaming). Landon sees that she’s very happy, said something like, you’re happy for first time ever?

16. Hope tell Josie to let her know if Josie needs someone to “take care” of Penelope.

17. Talent show: hope looks very happy and cheers for Josie when she sings (overly happy maybe because of slug)

18. Josie lets Hope sleep on her shoulder.

19. Josie does not come clean when Hizzie is fighting each other on “Hope telling the school Lizzie is witch bipolar” and “burn her room down to interfere with Saltzmans road trip”.

20. Josie finally come clean about burning Hope’s room and made up stories that causes Hizzie's rivalry, but Hope only cares about the crush. It can be said that Hope is very forgiving for Josie. - *smiles* you had a crush on me? (I mean, girl, she burned down your room)

21. Mystic fall pageant: Josie worries about Hope feelings when Hope finds out about the dress was from Klaus

22. When Josie distances herself from Lizzie after knowing about the merge from Penelope, Lizzie asks Hope to help make the food Josie likes the most. So it’s canon that Hope can actually make Josie’s favourite food? The attempts Hope made to repair the twins relationship show that Hope care for both of the twins.

23. Josie doesn’t want to interact with Hope either.

(May have forgotten hosie scene)

24. Triad: super squad team up, they help each other to save the school, it seems like when Hope says she has more backup, Josie is the one looks like leading them in.

25. Hope caught a bullet for Josie while Josie caught one for Lizzie as Lizzie was trying to catch them for Josie too.

26. Josie encourages Hope for hero time rather than staying by her side.

27. Hope only realised that she caught a bullet for Josie when Alaric asked about the hole on her sleeves. That leads to her knowledge on her blood can save Josie as well as herself being the loophole for Malivore. She tells Alaric to give Josie vial of her blood. (According to some fans, Stefan said that blood sharing is very personal.)

28. Josie is very confident that Hope will make it back to them, and urges Kaleb to have faith in Hope.

29. When Hope jumps into Malivore, something came over Josie, she feels most of the impact (maybe because Landon is dead at the moment)

30. Hope didn’t want to return to school because she sees that both Landon and Josie are very happy. She wants them to be happy.

31. While Josie is being jealous and hostile to Hope, she feels that there’s something off about Hope in her, not only jealousy.

32. Oni episode: Josie continues to be hostile to Hope because of her jealousy.

33. Hope as a badass tribrid, miraculously does not beat or intimidate or threaten Josie because of her hostility, whereas when other people do it, there will probably be consequences.

34. Josie is the one to seek Freya for the dark magic to bring back everyone’s memories.

35. Josie hit Freya using the newly-learned dark magic. Freya said something like even that spell is very powerful for a Mikaelson witch, meaning that the spell can have some strong effects on her. When Josie is questioned whether she knows what to do with the magic, in panic she hit Freya with this magic and run. It means that whether or not Josie choose to bring those memories back herself, there will surely be someone to bring them back when Josie opted not to do it. Even so, it’s Josie that contributed to bringing back people’s memories of Hope, or else Freya can never do it for Hope if the circumstances required her to do so.

36. If Josie is to bring back everyone’s memories, she knows that she will be the one that will be left behind and will be the second choice. She’s the one that will be badly affected, but she knows that she needs to do it, and calls Caroline to encourage her to do the right thing. (Or else why call? What kind of parents will encourage their child to do otherwise.)

37. Josie brings back everyone’s memories of Hope and save Hope and Lizzie from the Croatian.

38. Hope cares about Josie’s feeling to ask whether Josie is okay with Hope staying in the school. She is willing to leave the school for Josie.

39. Despite knowing that seeing Hope hurts a lot, Josie tells Hope to stay, and assure Hope that she belongs with them. For Josie, NO MATTER how much it hurts, she WANTS Hope ENOUGH to let her STAY, as Hope belongs with them. It’s what Hope wants: people thinking she’s worth staying for. It means that NO MATTER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, she hope that there’s still someone that WANTS HER ENOUGH to STAY for her.

40. Along with the previous point, it’s important to know that Josie tells Hope to stay after SimuLandon told Hope that Landon can’t tell her to stay (the same day as Landon chose to leave the girls). It assures Hope a lot.

41. Landon being a dick(sorry) to breakup with Josie and then immediately restarts a relationship with Hope (disrespect of Jandon relationship, it’s like an opposite of what he said to Josie). Hope being a bitch(sorry) by immediately accept the restart of Handon, disregarding it’s a fresh breakup for Jandon and Josie.

42. Josie avoids Hope because it hurts to see Handon immediately lovey dovey.

43. Santa episode: Hope is the one that handles Krampus-affected Josie when she tells Lizzie to run. Either the Josie being near to Lizzie will affect Lizzie, or Hope just want some time with Josie? For the former part, Hope protecting Lizzie also contributes to supporting Josie.

44. Hope actively seeks out Josie and helps Josie with the mora miserium - placing a protective barrier on it.

45. They confide in each other when they put a protective barrier on the mora miserium. They reveal their dark sides and weaknesses. They support each other verbally. (Hope reveal her jealousy towards Jandon, Josie asked Hope why Clarke chooses her, Hope said that it’s because Josie is a strong and trusting person, etc.)

46. In the Qareem/Wade-is-fairy episode, when Landon died, Hope protects the mora miserium first and passes it to Josie before going to Landon. (It’s a logical thing to do tho, Landon’s death can’t be undo but Hope can prevent Josie from going dark)

47. Hope go to the twins for comfort after her fight with Landon.

48. First therapy box episode: Hope comforts Josie after they come out from it.

49. People in numbers(the Saltzmans including Josie) vs Landon: Hope chose to save people in numbers which includes Josie, instead of saving Landon. (Prison world incident)

50. When Hope astral project into the prison world, Josie is the only one that can communicate with Hope because of the dark magic. It helped to save people and Josie herself in the prison world.

51. People in numbers (the whole school) vs Josie: Hope refuses to kill Josie when basically everyone is ready to kill Josie to save the school(including Alaric). (Lizzie is running away? Understandable tho, her life is in danger) Hope shuts Alaric and Kaleb in the therapy box to prevent them from killing Josie.

52. Dark Josie with Hope in the ring: they weren’t really putting effort in fighting each other before both of them call each other out.

53. I don’t think she even likes you - what’s the point of saying that when it is commonly known between Hope and Josie? So it must mean the opposite(which is Josie likes Hope) and solely to hurt Hope.

54. Josie, fight! - Hope can bring out the true Josie in dark Josie.

55. Dark Josie is agitated when Hope can really bring true Josie out. Maybe it’s because of losing control. But my clownness suggests that can also be a thing that both true and dark Josie do not want to reveal at all - that Hope weighs heavily in Josie’s heart.

56. Dark Josie is ready to kill Hope after Hope brought the true Josie out for seconds.

57. Hope goes into Josie’s subconscious to save her.

58. The actually-consensual kiss: when the pig tell Hope to try kissing Sleeping Josie, Hope respects Josie’s boundaries. But Hope never says that she is against kissing Josie at all because she now does not see her that way at all. = Hope will totally kiss Josie if the circumstances are right with a consent.

59. In Josie’s mind, true Josie really doesn't want to hurt Hope and urge her to leave before it’s too late.

60. Hope encourages Josie to trust herself with her power, that she is good and strong.

61. Dark Josie petrified Hope in Josie’s subconscious.

62. Josie did heed Hope’s words, she believes that Hope is good and strong.

63. Josie defends Hope by calling Landon out on him leaving Hope twice, and he doesn’t actually believe in not giving up love no matter what.

64. After Hope and Landon comes out from Malivore and the prison world, and Landon turns into goo after the unsafe intercourse (probably not using condom considering the result, there must be sexually fluid exchanged), Hope goes directly to the principal office and explains the situation, Josie is first to believe in Hope and is willing to teach her the spell.

65. When Hope’s Therapy-Box Ethan tells Hope that sometimes the right person for her is right in front of her. I think that it’s Hope’s subconscious of him promoting himself initially. But really, Hethan interactions are so little for me to really believe that Hope’s subconscious of the right person is referring him for that. So when Josie turns up next....(I’m clowning, but it means that Hope subconscious thinks that Josie is the right person, talk about faith.)

66. Hope believes that Josie wants Hope to be safe: Hope’s Therapy-Box Josie ants Hope to come with her? It means that Hope knows that Josie will want Hope to be safe with her together. To relate it more to the problem about Hope thinks that Josie runs away from problem and Hope solves them, it also means that a part of Hope wants to not face all these problems too. So part of her is constructing this scene to provide her an option, with Josie.

67. Josie is the only one Hope attempted to save in the therapy box.

68. Josie doesn’t help Hope grieves after Landon turned into goo. (to which I resent the writer’s effort in sabotaging Hosie in the show starting season 3 to make sure they sit right in the “not queerbaiting“ section. It doesn’t make sense that Hosie doesn’t interact at all.)

69. 3x08: Josie wants to help in finding Landon. No matter the motives, she wants to help, and the final results benefit Hope and Landon, not Josie.

70. I don’t need to deal with both Saltzman twins right now - Hope disrespects both twins.

71. Hope gaslights Josie to go help her postponing her date with Finch.

72. Josie believes in Hope too much to fall for her lies when Hope is apparently desperate. (Maybe that’s why Finch call Hope five feet of trouble, or we should believe that Finch is threaten by Hope or angry at Hope out of the blue?) - Hope is Josie’s blindspot too.

73. Josie is upset that Finch will hate her, but doesn’t seem angry about Hope lying( I’m thinking about “you have a crush on me?”, but it can also be understood as Hope lying doesn’t hurt her at all. If this is the case, then Hope = nothing in Josie’s heart, is this true though?)

74. Hope says that she would be there if Josie is to fall into her dark side again even though she believes that Josie is strong enough to withstand it herself. (It’s still manipulation even though Hope means it, right? Don’t want to romanticise manipulation.)

75. Hope guilt trip Josie about Landon and the prison world.

76. Hope thinks that she need more convincing work on Josie after the guilt trip. But Josie surprises her by not needing any further convincing. It seems that her concerns it’s never the danger she could face from the prison world for saving Landon. It’s about the risks of losing herself again by taking her magic back. Both of them don’t know that the ascendant is full of dark magic.

77. Hope tells Lizzie to hold on when they discover that the ascendant is filled with dark magic and according to Josie before that, “you’re going to die”.  

78. Josie steps in for Hope and Lizzie.

79. Hope only realised and apologised when she sees Josie with dark magic and in pain. (It shows the importance of Josie in Hope’s heart, but I think it’s very late so……)

80. When Josie, Landon, Wade ran into the kitchen from Berbelang!Hope, Josie and perfect Landon are in sync in saving Hope. It either means Jandon is very very low-key still a thing, or Josie and perfect Landon actually cares as much as each other cares for Hope. (And perfect Landon is made to love Hope, so if Josie show as much care as perfect Landon for Hope....)

81. Again, why do I care? - Josie: “Because I do!”

82. Josie embrace her magic entirely for Hope and to save Hope.

83. If the definition of true love is like what Wade says, like Landon would never hurt Hope, then we can see Josie is reluctant to hurt Hope either. She wants to consider it carefully before really plunge the knife into Hope’s heart. (But perfect Landon did it, as an outsider I think we agree that’s actually the right call? It’s just too soon when you basically have an hour to think carefully, maybe Cleo can control perfect Landon, so when she got the chance she makes perfect Landon to do it?)

84. Hope apologises for pressuring Josie into taking back her magic twice. Josie give credits to Hope’s words of her and her magic. Hope is very happy for Josie.

85. Hope wants Josie back in the school. It means that she thinks Josie is belonged to the school as how Josie think of Hope previously.

To sum them up, we have 18/85 of Hosie interactions/scenes where they are disrespect of each other, undermining, manipulating, and lying to each other. However, as we can see mostly they are supportive of each other, having good communications, and saving each other’s lives.

[honey-makki]

grandma’s blessing

best friend!hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death (family member), oral (fem receiving), fire, probably unsanitary cooking conditions if i’m being honest (it’s soft i swear)

summary: the holidays are your favorite time of year. your best friend hanamaki tries to keep holiday cheer alive despite the loss of a family member.

word count 2.4k

masterlist

Holiday’s are tricky. Decisions on whether the trauma of going home will be a heavier burden to bear than the guilt and loneliness of your city apartment. GOing home was never a pleasant experience. Trips filled with parents nitpicking your seemingly successful life and emotionally battering you about anything and everything they could. The only reprieve would be hugging your grandmother and being able to see her face-to-face during dinner. She understood why you didn’t come home every opportunity and didn’t blame you a bit.

On years when it would be too much to travel, you knew that she would still give you a call. Spending all day on the phone with you while you bounced around the kitchen making much smaller portions of what they would be eating at home. Even the small amounts of silence on the call were comfortable. You could feel her next to you kneading the dough for a pie while you mixed together the fruit base. It felt like home.

The silence that has been living in your apartment the past few months after her passing was suffocating. Weekends spent with friends at their apartment just to get out of somewhere that just seems to reek of death and despair.

You had spent more nights at Makki’s place in the past month than at your own. He was your closest friend, a true confidant, someone skilled at lifting your mood, and the person you’ve been undeniably in love with for years. You accepted the fate of growing old with a horde of cats as long as you can have his silly pink hair shining in the sun when you hung out with friends. It’s ok that you are going to be alone forever as long as you still had a standing laser tag date once a month. The only thing stronger than your feelings of love towards the strawberry blond was fear of losing him.

He has been a pillar of strength during the past few months. Holding your crying body until you fall asleep on his tear-stained and snot covered chest. Setting alarms in your phone to make sure you are eating or going to work instead of sitting in a dissociative state. Ever since you shared a bed with him, he’s been a little more comfortable with physical contact. Walking closer together arms touching when going out or throwing an arm over your shoulder when lounging around the house. You can’t count the number of times you’ve both woken up in various stages of cuddling.

He was the one to bring up spending the holidays together. He had just gone home for a wedding and couldn’t afford another ticket and he knew that you were in a weird spot. “We can stay here and make dinner and bake cookies and watch shitty r-romcoms? Someone has to appreciate Hallmark movies, why not us?” You can hear his voice crack and start to speed up as a blush rises across his face. You see it but don’t really process it, more relieved that for the first time in months, the thought of holidays didn’t make you run to the bathroom and throw up. You smiled and nodded, setting plans for him to come over later in the week.

Makki always liked when you cooked, throwing a western spin on dishes he considered normal. But today, he was flabbergasted, you didn’t let him just sit on the barstool curating music while you did all the work, no, there was too much food to be made for him to laze around. You laid out the recipe for your grandmothers’ mac n’ cheese, explaining what everything meant while you got started on an asian fusion stuffing you figured out a few years back.

You stole glances at him in the middle of stirring, combining and folding everything together. His tongue sticks out between his lips while he deliberately measures out the exact amount of cheese required. In all the time you’ve seen him, you’ve never seen him totally lose his laid back air until now, and you can’t control your laugh. Is he really more serious about measuring out sharp cheddar cheese than a game that would take them to nationals? Or that physics final he actually studied for? Your heart skips a beat when you see his soft, satisfied smile to the dish he just created. All you can picture when he looks over to you is how cute of a child he must have been. Cheeks round encasing his bright smile as his head tilts ever so slightly to the left.

After he slides the last dish into the oven, you both opt for taking the time to clean the kitchen, knowing that you won’t want to do it after dinner. The dishes are washed and dried and while Makki puts away the ones that go on a higher shelf, you return flour and other ingredients to the pantry but before you put them down you call out to him, voice lighter than normal, the one you use when asking a favor.

“Taka, how upset would you be if I said I wanted to cook a little bit more?”

“You get dishes this time around then, but what are we makin’?”

You turn out of the pantry with a bounce in your step before slapping down the flour and newly acquired, chocolate chips and sprinkles. “Cookies! We always made cookies with my grandma and it wouldn’t be the same without them.” Your eyes sparkle at the thought of the sweet treats and equally sweet memories of your childhood. Makki thinks you are breathtaking.

“Let me get the bowls back down and we can probably make mediocre cookies if you have anything you do with it.” He smiles at just how cute the squawk you made from his teasing is, just happy that he gets to be here with you. He doesn’t really hear how you defend your baking skills and complain that just because you forgot flour one time doesn’t mean you are inept at baking.

He never thought he would be the type to settle down and be domestic, it just didn’t seem like something he cared a lot about, but now he he can’t rid his mind of the thought of waking up ten minutes before your alarm just to make you a cup of coffee or throwing your favorite blanket in the drier on days it’s raining so when you get home, you can melt into the soft plush and warm up instantly.The clattering of spices brings him back to the moment, turning to see you picking up the cinnamon and vanilla extract.

“You good, love?” There’s something about how you look when you flustered because of him, that scratches an itch he didn’t know was there. The first time a pet name like this had slipped through his lips he was certain that whatever line the two of you were toeing had been crossed, demolished. Instead you just tucked your hair away and averted your gaze back to whatever shitty movie the two of you were “watching” that night. Now it’s normal, well its not normal, its very much not normal for him to refer to you as love or babe and it's not normal for you to exclusivley call him by his first name. It's decidedly abnormal considering your relationship or lack thereof. But if you aren’t going to question it neither is he.

He helps you up and gather the remaining ingredients for the “famous snickerdoodle cookies” that you swear had won awards. The mixing of the dough is interrupted when he has to grab your wrist to stop you from adding salt instead of sugar. You refuse to look at him because you know he is sporting a huge smirk and raised eyebrows, knowing that he’s right about you not being the best baker. You are reprieved by the oven going off, signaling to remove the earlier and change the temperature.

“Damn, babe, these cookies look so good, especially this one.” You return to Makki who already started to lay out the dough on the baking tray. You see perfectly round blobs squished slightly by a fork for a pattern and then right in front of him you see the cookie he was talking about. You didn't expect to see your 27 year old boyfriend-who-isn’t-your-boyfriend to be holding a cockshaoped cookie. But really, you should have seen it coming from the guy who laughs when either of you fart.

He can hear the clock ticking as you just stare, annoyed. He was concerned for a second, that maybe he shouldn’t have made a lewd joke when making cookies. This is something he used to do with her grandmother, you stupid idiot.. But when he can see the apple of your cheek peeking out from behind your hand, he recognizes that face. The one that positively exudes warmth and happiness with her laughter. The butterflies always buzzing in his stomach go wild when this face comes out. He would do anything to see it for the rest of time.

You don’t know where the courage comes from but you cup his cheek for a kiss, he mirrors your action. It just felt normal, and you honestly didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal until you both pulled back. Your eyes are locked on his, both of you sporting a soft smile until his keeps growing, evolving into a laugh that is borderline offensive in how loud it is.

You don’t know why and you get a little nervous that maybe he doesn’t feel the same way, when you go to hide your face, you feel the heat rising but also a soft powdery coating? And that’s when you realize his hands are still coated in flour from shaping the cookies. Your eyes are rolling while you chuckle but Makki on the other hand is losing his mind, almost in tears from laughing while putting the cookies in the oven. “It’s not that funny, Takahiro! Get me a napkin please.”

“Nah, you look really sweet. Good enough to eat.” You weren’t surprised when he returned to kissing you, nor when he lifted you up by your thighs and plopped you on the counter. The kisses are sweet, lazy and perfect for a second kiss, and a third and a fourth. This is normal. His lips belong on yours. Your hands should be tangled up in his hair while his run over your waist and legs. This is right. There's no rush to deepen the kiss, both of you happy to just indulge in the warmth of the other, but it is inevitable. A soft nip at your bottom lip or an accidental tug of his hair, neither of you know what happened first but you both are staring at each other, panting lightly with a much darker gaze than the original flour induced makeout session.

“You are just as sweet as I thought. Gotta have a taste.” His voice is raspier than you’ve ever heard and you just let him move your body as he pleases. Pull your hips to the edge of the counter. Spread your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Lift your hips when he pulls your shorts and underwear down. Gotta act as sweet as he says I am. He has barely touched you but when he falls to his knees and just stares at your dripping slit that he's imagined for years, your eyes, you are already imagining how good he's going to feel.

You shouldn’t even try to think, his tongue exceeded any expectation or desire you had. Expertly flicking against your throbbing clit as he works two fingers in you. You feel the groan he lets out when he dips his tongue into your hole before you hear it. The vibrations reverberate up your spine and through your body, an all-consuming heat starting in your stomach, threatening to let loose, to run rampant on your body. His fingers, joined by another, return to your clenching hole and search for the spongy spot hidden deep inside. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your head, drowning out every other noise.

“C’mon love, cum on my fingers, on my tongue, I’ve wanted, dreamed about this for years, give it to me.” His slow words juxtaposed the fervent pace of his fingers and it was enough to send you over the edge.

You feel so hot you fear you might pass out, the groan Makki lets out beneath you is the only thing keeping you grounded. You were first concerned that you had hurt him in someway, but when you see his eyes roll back into his head and his tongue trying to lap up every single bit of cum you squirted on his face and thighs, you know it wasn’t due to excruciating pain, rather it's just an obscene reaction to you.

When you push him back, squirming with overstimulation, you hear him scramble and “Shit! Fuck! Fire extinguisher?? WHERE IS YOUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER???” You are still out of it until he starts actually screaming, words still evade you but he follows your line of sight to the red tube hiding in the corner next to the fridge. The smell of smoke is overwhelming all of a sudden. You were in a dreamlike post orgasmic state and suddenly your coughing, eyes hazy.

the cookies, SHIT THE COOKIES!! Smoke is billowing out of the oven and your fire alarm is blaring, but soon the room is filled with a white foam originating from Makki. You never realized that the foam would continue to expand until half of your kitchen was covered in it and you saw a sheepish looking Makki on the other side.

“Fires out”. Again, he starts to laugh at you, and this time you join him. Today has turned out entirely different than you expected. It wasn’t a sad day, it was filled with laughter, romance, an ill timed fire and Makki. All in all, a successful holiday, despite the fact everything you cooked was coated in foam. He’d seen you staring at the food and already took his phone out to order food, “Indian or ramen?”

Yeah, you think you’re grandma would be happy seeing you like this. Happy Holidays.

a/n: i don’t really know what this is but the image of makki being a disaster in the kitchen came to me one day and here we are. make sure you read the other fics in the collab

matsukawa’s funeral home winter collab

a/n 2.0: also a/o to @iwaasfairy for making that makki image that i used in my header. i love her more than i love him which say a lot

[theanoninyourinbox]

Longstar AU Three to Tango part 2

Sorry this bit took longer, had some personal issues to deal with, but we’re all good now.  I also realized I added a plot point too early, and removed it.  Alright back to cats!

While out hunting, Cinderpaw falls from a tree, injuring her hind leg.  Lionpaw carries her back to camp, and brings back a strange stick as well, saying he just thought it was neat.  Fireheart is worried that due to her being a reincarnation of a crippled warrior, that she might have similar leg problems.  Lionpaw butts in, saying that she’s not the same cat; even if her spirit resides in Cinderpaw, Cinderpelt is a far different cat.  Darkmoon is touched by this wisdom, but then looks at Lionpaw to see him staring off into space, with the AOL dialup tone playing.  Canon continues until...

Riverclan!  They proclaim their camp is unusable, and Jaypaw sneaks over to see a bunch of twoleg kits running around.  Unfortunately he’s caught, but it’s Uncle Hawkfrost, who just sends him home with a stern warning.  A few nights later, Lionpaw has a strange dream about tunnels, and an orange-and-white tomcat, and a nearly hairless elder.  Canon continues until...

The Windclan kits go missing, and the Three join Breezepaw and Heatherpaw to look for them.  They find the kits in the tunnels, but the water begins to rise.  Lionpaw, remembering his dream, tosses the kits on his back and leads everyone to safety.  Canon continues until...

The Tribe!  It goes mostly as canon, but with the Three bonding with their father, trying to get him to bond with  Breezepaw somewhat successfully, and immediately adopting Purdy as their “Gramps”.  Crowfeather, Tawnypelt, Foxflight, and Stormfur rekindle their friendship, with Tawnypelt apologizing to Foxflight about Brambleclaw, and all four reuniting with Feathertail.  While watching battle training, Lionpaw asks Feathertail what works best for her back, determined to gather new knowledge for any future injuries.  Canon continues until...

After the fight with the intruding cats ends, Hollypaw is covered in blood and little cuts, but shows her brothers a brand new scar on her belly that should have been a fatal wound, but instead healed up.  Lionpaw tells her that he can tell it doesn’t hurt because he would feel it.  Hollypaw says what?  Lionpaw says what?  Jaypaw, remembering the dream-sharing he did with Lionpaw that one time, decides Starclan is involved and didn’t tell them.  Starclan you beTTER EXPLAIN SO HELP ME I’LL GET GRAN-GRAN INVOLVED!!!!

Gran-gran Yellowfang yeets down from Starclan to kiss and holler at all her descendants, and gives them the Prophecy, explaining that their parents didn’t tell them because they were unsure who it involved, and she refuses to keep it a secret anymore, citing that the last time she kept a secret Brokenstar happened, giving a short explanation.  The Three agree to not be mad at their family, because that makes sense.

Storm and Brook decide to stay with the Tribe, and after a tearful farewell, the Clan Cats leave.  When Hollypaw gets back to camp, she has another dream about Tigerstar and Brambleclaw, now insisting they can train her to be the best warrior ever.  When she wakes up, she grabs her siblings, parents (Crowfeather and Swiftpool are having a sleepover), aunt and uncles, and her grandparents and great-uncle and the beans get spilled about the Prophecy and the Creepy Cat Dreams.  Everyone panics!  But they unpanic when Sandstorm, who was woken by the ruckus, points out that maybe the panic was the point?  Maybe if we stay calm and ignore them, they’ll either stop or make a move.  Everyone agrees, but this plants the seeds of doubt and anxiety in Hollypaw.  Did they pick her because she’s weak?  Canon continues until...

Windclan and Thunderclan both start finding each other’s prey on their land.  Mudstar and Longstar both agree someone is trying to start a fight, which happens when some younger warriors from both sides start a tussle.  Mudstar says until they figure out who’s doing this the clans should stay apart.  This leads to Swiftpool and Crowfeather being separated for a time.  A little while later, Berrynose, one of the troublemakers, says he saw a lion walking around camp, no it wasn’t Lionpaw I swear!  A little later, Fireheart, Darkmoon, and Lionpaw are gathering herbs, and discussing when Fireheart should retire, when Sol strolls up, say oop sun’s gonna go out, and yoinks out of ther before Darkmoon can grab him.  Canon continues until...

The free for all, triggered by some idiot in Windclan, starts, and the Eclipse happens.  Everyone except for Jaypaw and Longstar panics, and Sol strolls off to Shadowclan, with a ghostly Yellowfang throwing cat-cuss words at his back.  He still convinces Blackstar to forsake Starclan.

Back at Thunderclan, Hollypaw, Jaypaw, and Cinderpaw are promoted to Hollywish (for her great-grandmother and grandmother, and her hopes for the future), Jaywhisker (for his alternative senses and long whiskers), and Cinderheart.  The clan cheers them on, with Swiftpool at the front, and Lionpaw at her side, comforting her because his father can’t be there.  Flyshadow cheers from the nursery because she’s pregnant!! Canon continues until...

The Three sneak onto Shadowclan territory, and see poor Littlecloud get grounded by Blackstar.  On their way back, Tawnypelt catches up to them, with her kits Emberpaw (Flamepaw), Goldenpaw (Tigerpaw), and Dawnpaw in tow.  They want no part of a Starless Clan.  Longstar welcomes them to Thunderclan as long as they need shelter.  Canon continues until...

Millie and her daughter Briarkit become ill, and the illness begins to spread.  Lionpaw has a visit from Raggedstar and Runningnose, and grabs his siblings and the Shadowclan apprentices, hoping a plan can be hatched.  Jaywhisker and Flamepaw come up with the tree plan, and are as surprised as everyone else when actual Starclan ghosts show up to holler at the Shadowclan cats.  Blackstar is convinced, and throws Sol out with a Goofy Ya-ha-ha-hooie!  Canon continues until...

Longstar loses a life to the Greencough in camp, and Lionpaw asks Jaywhisker to dreamwalk Kestrelpaw, the Windclan Medicine apprentice, to find out where the catmint is.  After locating it, Lionpaw goes to get it, and is spotted by Breezepaw, who looks a bit happier?  Lionpaw is delighted his half-sib is doing well, and Breeze paw admits that he and Crowfeather hashed things out a bit, then tells Lionpaw to get on and go.  Lionpaw returns to camp with the medicine, and at the next half-moon, is named Lionblossom (for his “blooming spirit” and he gets petals stuck in his fur) by a proud Darkmoon.  When he goes to sleep the next night, he has a dream about tunnels and tribe cats, and a pretty molly named Half-moon.  Canon continues until...

The Fire Scene!!!  Foxflight gets stuck on the other side of a flaming wall with her niece and nephews, and makes a daring leap to grab a branch.  As she maneuvers it across the fire, a shadowy figure approaches.  In a flash, a dirty grey tabby leaps on the branch, blocking her way back!! Oh whatever will she do?!? She tackles him, knocking the tom head over tail into the fire, and saves her family.  Lionblossom has to be carried out, as he’s writhing in agony, feeling the pain of burns from the mysterious stranger.  He recovers shortly after, and no body is found in camp.  However, right before the next Gathering, a Thunderclan patrol finds a burnt corpse by the lakeside.  Flamewish, part of the patrol, thinks he looks familiar, but Graystripe is behind her, too horrified to speak.  He manages to sputter out that he recognizes the scarred pelt when Longstar approaches, and immediately identifies him as Darkstripe?!?!?  Wait what!???!!!  That night, Hollywish is visited by her Least Favorite Ghosts, but behind them is a smoky tom, both in pelt and in stench, and her doubt increases...Canon continues until...

Bluestar yells at Yellowfang for telling her descendants the prophecy.  It was supposed to be a secret, yells Bluestar.  Well so was Brokenstar and look where that got us, Yellowfang hollers back.  The two glare at each other for a while until Runningnose and Redtail break them up.

Back at Thunderclan camp, the cats are discussing how Darkstripe survived his throat being shredded, when the newly promoted Breezepelt and Heathertail enter camp.  They spotted Sol on Windclan land carrying a Thunderclan bird, and watched him plant it on Windclan territory, explaining the prey problem.  Longstar sends a patrol out to look for him, and the bring him and this other hanger-on that refused to leave him.  The Three grab their Gramps Purdy and escort him to the elder’s den, are you comfy Gramps, oh here let me introduce you to Mousefur.  Canon continues until...

Briarkit is attacked by the snake.  Honeyfern leaps in the way, getting struck in the eye, and Lionblossom makes the painful split-second decision to to an eye-ectomy on the spot.  Luckily, Fireheart heard the screaming and was rushing over to help, and finds both Honeyfern and Lionblossom on the ground writhing in pain.  Honeyfern is rushed to the Medicine Den, where she makes a miracle recovery - her eye and the hearing in that ear, and her ability to have kits are gone, and she’ll most likely be wobbly for life.  Honeyfern and Berrynose mourn their lack of future kits, but Poppyfrost insists she’ll carry kits for them, and the three can raise them together.  In the forest nearby, a seething ghostly Mapleshade confronts a shimmering Frecklewish, but both stalk off without a fight.  At some point around here, Coldlight confesses his feelings to Sandstorm, who tells him she needs to think about her feelings.  He respects her wishes because he’s sensible, and needs to emotionally recover from his love confession, because Coldlight’s drained by feelings. Canon continues until...

At next Gathering, Mudstar and Blackstar both want a piece of Sol.  Longstar counters that holding him prisoner keeps him from doing more harm, and Mudstar agrees, ending the cross-clan conflict - Crowfeather promises his kits he’ll visit shortly.  Back at Thunderclan later, Hollywish thinks she’s talking to her father and confesses her fears and anxieties.  The shadowy cat tells her of course she’s evil, and no one actually loves you.  A teary Hollywish rushes off, past her brothers, and into the tunnels, and they collapse behind her.  Crowfeather pins Sol to the ground, and he laughs evily.

Meanwhile, Whitewing’s kits and Flyshadow’s kit sleep peacefully.

Dun Dun Dun!  And that’s all for now!

[thefanficmonster]

Promise

Anthony (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Death scenes, Grief, Housefire, Angst, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance

Summary: Sneaked glances and pass-by smiles are often times the start of the most beautiful of love stories. Sadly, many of those stories end too quickly, too soon for the souls in love to be able to enjoy them. This is the story of Y/N and Anthony. The love story that started with a promise and ended in flames.

Requested by @niksoiio Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I apologize for taking so long, but here it finally is! I know how excited you were for this fic, so I hope it fulfills your expectations and doesn’t let you down! Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Never is a love story as pure as one long awaited to commence. The souls patiently waiting to intertwine, the emotions dying to shine through more than just glances and secret smiles. Feelings to mix, collide and dance together, creating a symphony of a lifetime. The symphony of love that lives beyond the end of the very souls that sparked it.

This is a love story, a story of loss, and a clear example, proof that a love simply doesn’t die. It’s an everlasting flame - burning brighter than the one that attempted to destroy it.

                                                              ~~~

“You seem restless tonight.“ Anthony walks into the living room, placing a cup of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of Y/N who’s reading the back cover of the book he has been keeping himself busy with lately. 

Y/N has been Tanya’s friend since they met in middle school. When their friendship carried over into high school, that’s when her and Tanya’s adoptive brother Anthony met. They instantly became friends, sharing their love for thrillers and murder mysteries, similar taste in music and relatively similar personalities - the quiet peacemakers. The lovers, not fighters. Well, not fighters unless necessary. They are both protectors with many people they care about and would do anything to keep them safe. The two of them are pretty similar that way. 

Very compatible, as some would say. Tanya being the first to notice the connection between two of the closest people in her life. Knowing the shyness of the two and their self-doubt, she chose not to speak up about it until spoken to, expecting them to take ages to finally see what’s been going on between them. Guess she wasn’t far from the truth.

On this night Y/N and Tanya were supposed to spend their time studying together for the last exam of the semester before Christmas break began. They have agreed to meet at the Clarke house at six PM in the afternoon which has long passed and Tanya is still yet to return from the date she went on with her boyfriend Vince. She promised Y/N she’d make it home by six, but now it’s eight and there’s no sign of her whatsoever. A snowstorm started slowly taking over the town approximately two hours ago, probably the reason behind her friend’s absence, but to Y/N’s dismay, also the reason she’d have to spend the night at the Clarke household because her parents wouldn’t be able to collect her in this weather, especially not with the run-down car they drive.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She nods in gratitude at the boy who sits down on the couch next to her as she takes the mug containing the hot beverage with as firm of a grip as she can muster with her shaky hands. 

She has indeed been restless since she arrived. Walking into the house, apart from Anthony who had let her in, the first person she saw was the youngest member of the family - Megan. The little girl has never done anything to her in particular, but there has always been something about her that has unnerved Y/N. Something in her eyes and demeanor, how empty and hollow her gaze was, almost like she was looking through people and objects instead of at them. The smile she sent her as a greeting sent chills down her spine, leaving her hands and knees shaky and her body jittery as if the house was colder than the outdoors. The thought that she’d have to sleep in this house made her stomach clench with discomfort, a sickening feeling of wrong taking over her mind and body.

“Maybe it’s the exam. You know, if Tanya doesn’t make it, I can help you. It’s not a difficult subject, after all.“ Anthony attempts to reassure her, giving her a sympathetic look as he takes a sip of his own cup.

She gives him a soft smile and another nod of appreciation for his offer, “No, it’s not that. Or at least I think it isn’t. Exams don’t make me nervous until after I’ve finished them, if that makes sense.” She giggles weakly, basking in the warmth of the porcelain cup in her ice cold hands. It doesn’t have much of an effect though - instead of warming up her skin, her hands are basically cooling the drink and she still feels as tense and endangered as ever. “But a study partner could be pretty useful, thank you.”

After finishing the rather disappointing movie they found on TV as well as their drinks, they make their way to Anthony’s room to actually get some studying done because, judging by the nearing of nine PM and the constant lack of her friend, she wouldn’t be returning on time. Anne attempts to offer them before they go, an offer which they turn down in favor of making the most of the time they have left before their brains would require rest for the day.

“You see, I get that it’s far less complicated than it seems, but I’m terrible at paying attention in classes, let alone at taking notes.“ Y/N admits while they take a short ten minute break between note-reading and revising the chapters they’ll have an exam on the following day.

Anthony’s eyebrows furrow, “Why’s that? I mean, the professor isn’t boring. Not to me, at least.“

She shakes her head, “No, no, far from it. The rare time’s I’ve managed to focus I quite enjoyed the lectures. But I tend to get too stuck inside my head to hear anything else. My brain gets overwhelmed by the future, by what’s gonna happen five minutes, five days or maybe even five years from the present moment. I sometimes get so lost in those thoughts that I end up...this is gonna sound weird, but I feel like I end up living them.” Somewhere along the lines she could no longer hold his gaze, embarrassed and afraid of how his opinion of her might change with this newly revealed information.

However, much to her surprise, when her eyes meet his again he’s looking at her with nothing but intrigue and child-like curiosity. No amusement or humor or mocking, just wondering, hoping to find out more. Little does she know, that’s how he always looks at her when she is facing the other way. “That’s so interesting. I guess the real question is: Do the things you imagine ever end up coming true?” It was said with a lighthearted smile with the intention of easing the tension in her, calming her nerves, but he had unintentionally struck a chord.

She nods her head, her eyes widening slightly, “Well that’s the weirdest part - they do. Almost all the time unless I do something to prevent it. It freaks me out every time.” An aura of fear surrounds and inhabits her as her gaze wanders away from his again, this time subconsciously, “It scares me so much, Anthony. I know something’s terribly wrong with me. I’m a freak of nature or...I don’t even know what. I just know it’s bad. And I probably shouldn’t have told you all of this cause you now won’t ever look at me the same, you will avoid me. Call me crazy behind my back. I see why but-...”

Before the petrified girl could continue rambling, Anthony takes hold of her hands, firm and comforting. The sudden, unexpected contact of their hands silences her, freezing her eyes on his as she breathes heavily in hopes to stabilize her rapid heart and far worse shakiness. With his hands holding hers, she feels protected, guarded from whatever the future may hold and from the very fact that she could probably find out if she tried. For once though, she doesn’t feel like she has to. She doesn’t need to see what will happen and prepare, she trusts it won’t be so bad as long as she has this boy holding her by the hands, looking at her with such softness in his green orbs staring back at her.

“But that’s all nonsense, Y/N. I’d never say something behind your back, especially not something meanspirited or ill-willed. You...“ he trails off, hesitating for just a moment longer, deciding against prolonging this grey area his feelings have been locked in for far too long as it is, “You are very important to me, more than you know. I could never see you as anything but amazing, mesmerizing. You’re you, Y/N. And that’s why....“ Hesitation and doubt make one final attempt at beating his courage bloody. Much like last time, they fail and Anthony carries on, “That’s the reason I’ve fallen in love with you, Y/N. Quirks, oddities, they are all beautiful cause they are yours. And I love them cause they make you who you are.“

He has somehow managed to turn the tables on her, leaving her to be the speechless one despite her having just revealed her freaky ‘abilities’ to him. What looks like a fiasco in her mind he’s made seem like a perfectly put together kaleidoscope. Like every piece of her shattered courage and bravery is back in it’s spot. Although he’s somewhat managed to put her together, she’s still a long way from being whole, which is why words have failed her now. She hasn’t felt so complete in so long, and now the final piece missing is that response that just refuses to leave her chest.

Seeing her stunned as she is, Anthony feels the need to apologize, justify his out-of-the-blue confession that startled her so much, “I know I should’ve you sooner, or at least picked a better moment but-...”

It’s her turn to cut him off though her method is much more efficient - silencing him by pressing her lips against his.   Though caught off-guard, Anthony is quick to respond to it, kissing her back with the same amount of love she’s put in on her end.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m so sor- WHOA!“ The two pull apart at the sound of the familiar female voice that has suddenly filled the room. Tanya has picked the worst of moments to be coming home, and she’s more than aware of it. Despite feeling guilty for interrupting her brother and best friend’s moment, she’s also glad she didn’t miss it. After all, she’s been watching the two suffer in silence, pining for each other since the start of their high school freshmen year and even now that they’re in college. They’ve been quiet about their feelings for more than four years and she can’t be happier to finally see the prophecy fulfilled. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for you two to finally succumb to your hearts and turn those lame brains you have off?! Oh this is a relief like no other.” The older girl laughs, pleased with the outcome of four years of looking on at two very important people in her life adoring one another and not saying a word. Needless to say, she’s proud of them.

“Do you know what knocking is, Tanya?“ Anthony is the first to recover from the initial shock of his sister’s appearance.

“Only in theory. Not in practice.“ She replies sarcastically, giving a pleased smile that speaks volumes of how her spirits have been lifted all thanks to them. “I’ll go downstairs, pretend I didn’t see what I saw, make myself a cup of tea to warm up and when I come back I want to see that you two have pulled yourselves together. Your faces are burning red.” She instructs, backing out of the room but not before fixing them a narrow-eyed warning look.

She wasn’t wrong - they are indeed blushing a deep red and all they can do is smile when they look at each other, giggling a tiny bit.

Suddenly, Y/N’s eyes widen as though she has just remembered something of great importance. “Wait.” She mutters, more to herself than to Anthony. Her hand swiftly slides the ring off the middle finger of her left hand and offers it to Anthony, “Here.” The boy takes it hesitantly, turning it between his fingers as gently and cautiously as he can as though the ring would crack if his grip became any firmer. “By taking in, you’re making a statement, a promise. A promise that you won’t change your mind about me...about us by tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or by next week.” She’s unable to look at him yet again, instead focusing on her fidgeting hands rested in her lap.

After a brief moment of contemplating, Anthony hands her back the ring, “I don’t need to make a promise, I know I won’t change my mind. You could look into the future and see for yourself too.” He tells her reassuringly, a sweet smile on his face to show the lightheartedness of what he’s said, afraid it might be offensive to her if he didn’t clarify.

She shakes her head, “For once in my life I don’t want spoilers for the future. I’ll just let it play out. I’ll see it when it happens.” She pushes the ring back to him, “But I still want you to keep this. A reminder, if not a promise. A reminder that I promise to love you for a very long time.”

A warmth spreads throughout his chest, the wholesomeness of the moment having reached to his heart and soul. He curls his fingers over the ring protectively, “Alright, I’ll take it. As a promise that I too promise to love you for even longer.”

The strings of emotion connecting them are slowly being pulled, bringing them closer once again. They both lean in, ready to feel that incredible magic of a love-filled kiss another time.

“Consider this me knocking! My hands are kinda full so just open the door if I can come in!“ Lips less then an inch apart, they’re interrupted by the shout coming from the other side of the bedroom door.

The young pair laugh, accepting that their moment will have to be postponed before Anthony goes to let his sister, who’s carrying a cup of tea and some snacks, in. All Y/N can think about is how much happiness she’s found so unexpectedly, in a place she was all but willing to stay at. Life is full of surprises and unforeseen moments, so many things one can never predict. And even though Y/N can predict them, now she’d rather not. She now understands the importance of surprises in life and she wants to cherish them properly.

                                                            *  *  *

Flames, fear, screams, shouts, cries. All painted on the backs of her eyelids. The mortifying images playing out in front of her jolt her awake.

A nightmare, it’s just a nightmare, she tells herself.

But upon opening her eyes she is met by the misty darkness of the smoke-filled room her and her best friend are currently in. 

A nightmare that she could’ve predicted and warned the others about.

“Y/N, get out of the window! I need to find Megan!“ Tanya tells her urgently, ushering her towards the windowsill, “Go! Anthony will catch you!“

Looking down at the snow*covered yard below, she sees Anthony’s figure, motioning for her to jump. She can barely hear him over the ringing and thumping in her head but she trusts him. She believes she’ll be ok if she chooses to rely on him. So, following both his and his sister’s instructions, she jumps, falling into his arms. For a few moments it’s all blank around her and in her head. She wonders if it’s just the feeling of the fall or the fact that she could’ve died so easily. Or maybe the close proximity to Anthony. Either way his whisper wakes her up from the blank trance she has fallen into.

“It’s ok, I got you.“ He steadies Y/N on her shaky feet, taking her head and leading her to the front of the house.

The next few minutes are a show of nothing but horror and pain. Her and Anthony witness it together, unable to do anything but look on as ever member of the Clarke family, one by one, has life escaping their bodies in the most brutal of ways: Tanya and Megan never made it out of the house; Mr. Clarke was caught under the fallen ceiling in the living room and Dennis was the worst, having impaled himself on the fence below the attic window.

They saw it all happen. They couldn’t do anything. Fear-ridden, powerless and helpless, frozen in their spots by the horrifying scenes playing out in front of them.  With tears brimming her eyes and blurring her vision and her knees almost completely giving out, Y/N felt a little bit of her die with each member of the family. A large chunk of her died along with them. She can only imagine how Anthony feels.

“Mom...“ The distressed boy mutters, “Mom’s still in there! Mom!“ Before she could stop him, he’s running towards what used to be the front door of the house and into the burning hallway.

Y/N’s heart drops, adrenaline and the primal instinct to save the person she loves kicking in bringing her legs to life, carrying her forward. “Anthony no!” A loud cry of desperation leaves her aching chest.

She too enters the hallway, surrounded by the overwhelming heat that feels like it’s burning her skin off. She doesn’t dwell on that though, instead she lunges forward, hands grabbing at Anthony’s arm with all her might and yanking him back with as much strength as she has left. Thankfully, it’s enough to send the boy stumbling back, falling on the snow out in the yard, falling to safety just in time.

Just when the ceiling in the hallway collapses. Directly on top of Y/N.

Like the last breath had been drawn out of Anthony’s lungs. Like his last hope had just been shredded to pieces.

Like his life ended along with her, his heart severed and plucked out of his chest, thrown into the flames.

He bows his head, uncontrollable cries leaving his body, each feeling like a punch to the gut - oh so painful and oh so dreadful. As though his very soul is draining from his body with each scream of agony. Then he spots the shimmer in the snow, the twinkle in his darkened vision.

The promise ring that had fallen out of his pocket, its smooth, gleaming surface unharmed, reflecting the raging flames in front of him. Its statement, its meaning standing stronger than ever - an everlasting love. A brightly burning flame ignited by two souls so adored by each other. And even though one of the flames that started the fire has been extinguished, the fire of love hasn’t wavered.

The ring is sending him a message:

This is far from the end of his love. Far from the end of hers either. When two souls intertwine the way theirs have, the bond cannot be broken.

                                                            *  *  *

Half a century has passed and Anthony has never missed the day - each year gracing the town of Little Hope with his presence to commemorate his late family and loved one, bringing a flower to each of their graves.

Survivor’s guilt still haunts him. That night’s events still keep him up at night and the images still seep into his dreams. However, now he has a way to cope with it. He writes. He writes in a diary but in such a way that it’s composed of letters. Letters addressed to different members of his family though the majority are love letters for Y/N. He tells her about his day, how he wishes she were by his side, how he whishes they had more time or acted on their feeling sooner.

How he loves her even more now, how they have remained connected.

“Funny how we haven’t run into each other before. Fifty years and this is the first time I’m seeing you here.“ The deep male voice startles him, “I knew we’d run into each other eventually.“

It’s Vince, Tanya’s boyfriend - the person who’s been placing the flowers Anthony find on Tanya’s grave every year. He always assumed it was him, another man forever in love with the soul that is left to linger after its body vanished. Another man chained by a memory, one he wouldn’t escape even if he could. He still loves Tanya, no doubt about it, and he wishes to never stop loving her. Him and Anthony are rather similar that way.

“Though it was you. No one else knows Tanya’s favorite flowers.“ Anthony motions to the bouquet of white flowers in Vince’s hands, “Surprised you’re still here.“ He knows it’s not the wisest thing to say to a man who’s suffering down the same road of guilt and grief - the road only lit by the everlasting love that has remained in his heart as well as Vince’s.

“Surprised you haven’t stopped coming around.“ He replies though they both know what’s insinuated - they understand why neither of them can let go. They’re bound to bodiless souls that reside here. They are both more than determined to stay as close as possible to those souls they are so hopelessly in love with.  Vince’s eyes trail down to Anthony’s hand which is holding the bouquet he was going to place on his sister’s grave. He catches the glint of a ring on his finger, “You’re married?”

The promise ring. He’s chosen to wear it in place of a wedding ring. It is not only a way to cope but it’s exactly what him and Y/N agreed on all those years ago - a reminder that they’ll love each other for a very long time. For forever.

“Yes. I’m married.“

He indeed is - to Y/N and the memory of her. To her soul that his will forever be connected to.

@artlovingbre  @sparrow-gg  @megandaisy9