#i could probably answer some of my own questions through google but. its late and im tired

[mbat]

every day i wonder what happened during the design process of equestria girls for them to all come out the way they did. i can see where the skirts thing came from cause they wanted them to be undeniably girly i guess or whatever but. every other weird decision is just confusing

like fluttershys whole outfit, the shortish skirt but especially the tank top. maybe its meant to indicate that shes outdoors a lot with animals, but it completely betrays her shyness and tendency to try and hide herself

they kinda messed up big mac and shining armor? mostly shining armor. his jaw could slice metal. why he look like that

also i only realized while looking at the characters that. okay i was just going to say 'lol cheerilees hair is stupid its like 1 foot taller than her head, why didnt they just give her normal bangs wtf' and i still mean that but then i realized... they swapped her mane and fur colors for her human counterpart ??? so now her usually darker coat and light hair became dark hair and light skin ??

which leads me to the point about the skin colors being weird. like. i dont like how they lightened them up, i dont like how aj and big mac have human skin colors (i have to assume maybe they thought for them that the colors looked bad, or possibly even close to caricature territory, especially with big mac), and the way they outright lightened up the colors of at least 2 normally darker ponies? like i said, cheerilee, but also

luna. even back when i first saw the movie and adored it, i DID NOT like the princesses designs. how did they fuck up some of the best characters in the show, especially the ones that are the prettiest (imo).

i would say that of the 3, cadence is the most okay design (i know we dont see her in the first movie just roll with me here). its clearly her, she looks like her and has her vibe (visually), all around not bad. not necessarily my favorite, theres still something slightly off? but it doesnt rub me the wrong way

celestia... i dont like her vibe. who is she. shes light pink and she has hair spikeys that are meant to look like a crown but just made it look like she didnt brush her hair properly. she has celestias hair but her face does not read like celestia to me. she looks like an imposter. where is my mother

and finally. the pinnacle of the issues with the designs. luna.

WHO IS SHE. THAT OUTFIT? NOT LUNA. THAT HAIR? YOU WOULDVE BEEN BETTER OFF JUST DOING A GRADIENT. OR PUTTING IN LITTLE STAR HAIR CLIPS. THAT FACE? THATS SOMEONES WINE MOM WHO SINGS EXTRA LOUD AT CHURCH. same critique about the hair spikeys as before. AND THE SKIN??? HELLO??? THE PRINCESS OF THE NIGHT GOT TURNED INTO PRINCESS OF MIDDAY. WHY.

the design of the show vs the movies is, i guess now literally, night and day. pony luna is so inspired and pretty and meant to invoke such regality, its very clear what her theme is, and she very much sticks out amongst the others, both in shape and details!

but the human version feels generic, she could easily be a background character (and she basically was), she feels unfinished, the colors on their own arent the worst but moreso feel insulting when compared to the original (i like the addition of pink/pinkish purple to the palette, but not so much to luna as a character. it just isnt her imo), she doesnt even look like an authority figure aside from obviously looking older than the other characters, let alone being someone meant to be somewhat equivalent to royalty. also again she was a minor character here but its like... her pony version has such a stone strong personality, both when shes freshly back from the moon and later on when shes more grounded and princess-like. human luna is just... generic teacher person. did human luna even ever experience significant isolation and feeling completely unseen by everyone she cared about? doubt it.

and yeah, they significantly lightened her skin ?? why ?? theres literally no reason to do that? she wouldnt look like a caricature unless you somehow chose the wrong colors (how possibly would you), and its not exactly impossible to draw characters with darker skin, again her pony form literally has a dark coat !! but also plenty of people have redesigned her human form to have the right skin color and they look great!! and in general obviously theres plenty of characters with dark skin, like... what was the reason they did that. it just feels gross.

dont cross me when it comes to luna dude i love her so much

anyway yeah its been over 10 years since EG first aired and i loved it back then and i still love it but i think a lot more about character designs now. mlp g4 is known for having these really pleasant and well put together designs with lovely colors (for the most part), its so weird how that gets easily messed up, like in g5, but also still in g4 itself(in the spinoffs and the main show lol)? wish i had the motivation to redesign them all lol, i probably will someday. please go look at redesigns theyre very lovely

[uminohotaru]

Journey to the Land of the Gods

Banana Fish spoilers warning!

I'm late to the party but yeah, I just finished Banana Fish if you know what I mean. And maybe my heart would rather switch to smth else now and heal but my brain won't stop thinking about that story. So I feel the need to rant into the void, at least. I have no idea whether there are Banana Fish fans among my subscribers but if you haven’t seen it, I really REALLY recommend you watch this masterpiece, and that you better scroll this post without glancing under the cut since I'm going to analyze the end. Or rather, why could that story have had no other ending. 

And it all has probably been said and discussed a thousand times but hey, I’ve told ya I’m late to the party, and I haven’t read any thorough analyses except those in the youtube comments below random videos, so now I need my own chance to rant. 

During my short journey through the BF content (finally I can google it all I want without being afraid of the spoilers yay!) I came across different opinions on the ending. Mostly pain, of course, but then it’s either acceptance or denial. My first reaction was violent denial. But funny thing, as much as I wanted to immediately forget the Garden of Light and drown myself in fix-it AUs (the latter, I still do read), I realized quite soon that I can’t. That no matter how painful it is, the original ending is the thing that MAKES SENSE. No, Ash dying like that wasn’t something that had been decided on for the sake of shock, as some of the most bitter opinions I came across accused. Neither it devaluates the whole struggle and his final decision to leave to Japan with Eiji and have a normal life. No, there was something a lot deeper there, I realized once I’d cried my eyes out. As heartbroken as I was, I just couldn’t bring myself to hate it and reject it, and I tend to do that with the endings I do not like, as it happened with some other stories that I rejected with my whole heart and even devoted a good amount of my time to write the fix-its for. But strangely enough, it was not the case with Banana Fish. Its finale just makes sense. In fact, it makes so much sense that I’d go as far as to say that this whole story is the story of a journey to death which stemmed from the image of the leopard’s inscrutable journey to the summit of Kilimanjaro, the House of Gods. I can almost see the author being captivated with that image, and as someone who’s been writing from the young age I know that often (not always but still) you start the story from its finale. You take some resulting picture that for some reason appeared in your head and mesmerised you, and begin to unravel it, like an investigator: what could have happened? who are those people? why did they end up like this? Of course, it is only my assumptions but if I allow myself to guess, I’ll say the entire character of Ash, him being the wild cat, has originated exactly from that short excerpt of Hemingway. 

Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet high, and is said to be the highest mountain in Africa. Its western summit is called the Masai "Ngaje Ngai," the House of God. Close to the western summit there is the dried and frozen carcass of a leopard. No one has explained what the leopard was seeking at that altitude.

The concept is here. It was never a question whether Ash dies, it was the question of how and why he dies. Just like the riddle he’s been pondering on—what was the leopard doing near the summit? What did it seek there? Was it climbing or trying to descend? And that in either case, it must have realized it won’t return. The direct parallel to that leopard, in the end Ash finds the answers to all those questions for himself, on his own journey to the Land of the Gods.

The Japanese characters for the name Izumo literally mean “out of the clouds,” evoking images of a place where the seen and the unseen worlds blur together.

Long before there was a Kyoto or Nara, this region was the center of what was known as Shinkoku, the Country of the Gods.

This is no coincidence. Japan in Banana Fish, and for Ash especially, is the image of the world untouched by the evil where you don’t need a gun, rather than a real country with the same amount of evil and dirt as any other. The fact that Eiji describes it as the country where there are 80 thousand gods, and that he is from Izumo, the Land of the Gods, of all places, makes the spiritual connotation all the more evident. The white peak of Kilimanjaro soaring over the wild jungle, an impossible image of two different worlds in one--there could not have been a better symbolism. Ash, the character who in one of the early episodes says, “I’ve never repented, not even once”, cannot even imagine himself in such a world, just like the sinner can’t seriously think about paradise, or a leopard about climbing a snow-clad peak, so of course his immediate reaction is “Are you nuts? me in Japan? what I’d be even doing there?” But the invitation is there. And deep inside, he realizes that yes, he wants that. To be with Eiji, the angel, in his Land of the Gods. Yet his hands are stained with blood. He's been ruined and tainted in most horrible ways. Is it even possible? But what Eiji sees is his beautiful, fragile, wounded soul, and he says—yes, of course you can, and I will take you there, let’s begin with learning the language. This is when it starts—Ash’s journey from the jungle and toward the summit, toward the Land of the Gods. Or well, that’s when it becomes more or less a conscious decision. And maybe that is also when he realizes it will probably cost him his life. 

He tries to stop and turn back, more than once. Tries to convince himself that he will never belong there, that his fate is to be just another scum on these streets, in the world he has learned how to survive in, his jungle. Just as, more than once, he understands that no, he would rather die on his way to that summit, having decided to take this journey—but die with love, rather than remain in the jungle, even as the king, but empty inside. He has seen the white summit of Kilimanjaro above the wild forest, and that’s it—he can’t tear his eyes off it. 

He learns to repent. He learns to pray. And he even takes the ultimate step—asking God to take him in place of Eiji. Just like Aslan from Narnia, a representation of Christ, he learns such a deep love that he willingly choses to sacrifice himself for another; and it’s not to say he couldn’t sacrifice himself for his friends earlier—he could, risking his life constantly to save others, not exactly cherishing it too much to begin with. But his bargain, for the lack of a better word, with God in ep.23 was something different. It was a conscious offering, a prayer to the God whom he wouldn’t even consider asking for anything earlier, the scarred soul that he is—take me instead of him. Not in the mess of the fight, say, covering Eiji with his body from a bullet, but through a prayer, in the quiet hours on his knees before that window basked in the rays of light. The difference between an act and a prayer in that sense is the difference between one moment and eternity. I'm offering myself in his place, give him the divine protection, change his fate, please God--I'm willing to pay the price. It is different.

Eiji who had a 50% chance of surviving, I believe, survived exactly because of that, at least we can say that it was implied. Ash’s spiritual journey, from being the one who “never once repented”, through finding the spirit to hope and to say I want that, please take me to the Land of the Gods, and to finally offering himself in place of the one he loves—that journey is simply amazing. 

That's why his life could not be taken simply in the mess of the fight. Narratively it would have diminished that huge journey. So he defeats the strongest enemies and survives. Like Cain says, Ash will only die if he brings it on himself. The leopard dies near the summit, but you are not a leopard, you can choose—says Eiji. And we truly can say that Ash chooses to die—from a non-lethal wound (which is more clear in the manga.) Even then, God leaves him the chance to reconsider, to return to the jungle and lick his wounds. In a way, he is safe while he stays in the jungle. But once he tries to reach Eiji, to reach the Land of the Gods, after that prayer, it is no longer so as if fate says, you've exchanged your life for his, that's it. So Ash chooses to pay and to die, and he dies on his own terms to an extent—in the peace of that library, the only place in the “jungle” that has always been his refuge, a part of another world, and he dies smiling—which implies it is not the Grim Reaper who comes for him unlike back then in the hospital, bringing dead calmness devoid of any pain as well as of joy. No, what Ash sees in that moment is some beautiful and happy scenery, so we can say that yes, he sees the Land of the Gods, his paradise where their souls are together, the exact scene from the ED2. He dies, but he ends up reaching it.

So why does Ash, not the logic of the narrative, choose death? For one, this is his part of the bargain with God: and when he is attacked exactly at the moment when he finally runs to reunite with Eiji, he realizes that. Eiji has been able to live on because Ash offered himself instead. And he should have died exactly because he covered Ash with his body, exactly because there is a price for him staying in the jungle, as well as for Ash breaking from the jungle, and from the beginning, Eiji took multiple risks and he took that last bullet meant for Ash, too, because basically his very residence in Ash’s world was the act of his love and desire to save Ash. So of course, he does. But Eiji does more than just saving his life, he saves his soul—since in the end he provides the chance for Ash to say nope, I will not have that, I will ask God to save you and take me instead. Just like Aslan the lion's sacrifice that results in his rebirth. The pinnacle of his spiritual journey, his ticket to the plane going to the Land of the Gods. No, we couldn’t have had Japan as the real 3D country in this story. We simply couldn't.

...One of the distinguishing features of Izumo Taisha Grand Shrine: the shimenawa, or immense straw rope hanging from side to side in the front. The Kaguraden building shimenawa is the largest of its kind in Japan, measuring eight meters in diameter at its largest hanging parts.

It is a reflection of the main god enshrined here, Okuninushi-no-Okami, the god of human relationships. The Japanese word for this is enmusubi, which we can translate literally as “bound fate.” 

[misnomera]

On racial stereotyping of the Haans in TMA...

Right so as someone who is ethnically Chinese I have NO FUCKING clue how I didn’t notice this more distinctly in my initial binge of tma (going too fast and not paying closer attention to character names and descriptions, probably) but the Haan family storyline is, all horror elements aside, pretty fucked up in terms of racial representation re: stereotyping. This got long as hell, but please please please take a moment to read through if you’ve got time for it. thanks.

To start off, the Haans are one of the few characters in tma with an explicitly specified race and ethnicity—Chinese—and pretty much the only explicitly Chinese characters in tma, other than the mostly unimportant librarian (Zhang Xiaoling) from Beijing. But like, Haan isn’t even a properly Chinese surname, at least not in the way that it’s spelled in canon (it should be Han, one a. A quick google search tells me that Haan as a surname has...Dutch origins??).

Of course, that could be chalked up to shoddy anglicization processes within family histories, which certainly isn’t uncommon with immigrant families, so I’m not going to dwell on names too much (although I also find it interesting that John Haan’s name is so specifically and weirdly anglicized that he changed his own surname?? Hun Yung to John Haan is a very big leap of a name change and frankly not very believable. ANYWAY, this is not that important. I don’t expect Jonny, a white Englishman, to come up with perfectly unquestionable non-Cho-Chang-like Chinese names, though it certainly would be nice. Moving on).

What really bothers me about the Haans is how they almost exclusively and explicitly play into negative Chinese immigrant stereotypes. I don’t even feel like I need to say it because it’s like...it’s literally Right There, folks. John Haan (in ep 72) owns and operates a sketchy takeout restaurant. They’re all avatars of the Flesh—and John Haan is Specifically horrific and terrifying because he cooked his wife’s human meat and fed it to his unknowing customers. Does that remind you of any stereotypes which accuse Chinese people of consuming societally unacceptable and ethically questionable things like dog/cat/bat meat (which, if it’s not already crystal fucking clear, we don’t. do that.), which in turn characterize us as horrible unfeeling monsters? John Haan’s characterization feeds (haha, badum tss) directly into this harmful stereotype that have caused very real pain for Chinese people and East Asians in general. 

And Jonny does nothing to address that from within his writing (and not out of it either). And, speaking on a more meta level, Jonny could’ve easily had these flesh avatars be individuals of any race (like, what’s Jared Hopworth’s ethnicity? Do we know? No? Well then). Conversely, he could’ve easily, easily had a Chinese person be an avatar of any other entity. So why did he have to chose specifically the Flesh?

(This is a rhetorical question. You know why. Racial stereotyping and invoking a fear of the other in an attempt to enhance horror, babey~)

On Tom Haan’s side, Jonny seems weirdly intent on having other characters repeatedly comment on his accent (or rather, lack thereof) in relation to his race. Think about how, in ep 30 (killing floor), the fact that Tom Haan had spoken a line to the statement giver in “perfect English” was an emphasized beat in that statement, and a beat that was supposed to be “chilling” and meant to signify to us that something was, quote-unquote, “not right” with Tom Haan. Implicitly, that’s saying that it was unexpected, not “normal”, and in this case even eerie, for someone who looks Chinese to have spoken in fluid, unbroken English. Mind you, the line itself was perfectly scary on its own (“you cannot stop the slaughter by closing the door”), so why did Jonny feel the need to note the accent in which it was spoken in? Why did Jonny HAVE to have that statement giver note, that he initially “wasn’t even sure how much English [Haan] spoke”? 

This happens again in episode 72 with a Chinese man (and again, his ethnicity is Explicitly Noted) who we assume is also Tom Haan. This one is rather ironically funny and kind of painfully self aware, because the statement giver expresses surprise at Haan’s “crisp RP accent” and then immediately “felt bad about making the assumption that he couldn’t speak English,” and subsequently admitted that thought was “low-key racist.” Like, from a writing perspective, this entire passage is roundabout, pointless, and says absolutely nothing helpful to enhance the horror genre experience for listeners (instead it just sounded like some sort of half-assed excuse so Jonny or other listeners could say “look! We’ve addressed the racism!” You didn’t. It just made me vaguely uncomfortable). And again, having other people comment on our accents/lack thereof while assuming we are foreign is a Very Real microaggression that east asians face on the daily. If Jonny needed some filler sentences for pacing he could’ve written about Literally anything else. So why point out, yet again, that the crazy murderous man was foreign and Chinese? 

At this point, you might say, right, but yknow, it was just that the statement givers were kind of racist! It happens! Yeah sure, ok, that’s a passable in-universe explanation for descriptions of Tom Haan (though not John Haan, mind you), but the statement givers are fake made up people, and statement’s still written by Jonny, who absolutely has all the power to write overt discrimination out of his stories. And he does! Think about just how many minor (and major!!) characters are so, so carefully written as completely aracial, and do not have their ethnicity implicated at all in whatever horrors they may or may not be committing. Think about how many lgbtq+ characters have given statements, and have been in statements, without having faced direct forms of discrimination, or portrayed as embodying blatant stereotypes in their stories (though lgbtq+ rep in tma certainly has their own issues that I won’t go into here). Jonny can clearly write characters this way, and he can do it well. So why, why, am I being constantly, repeatedly reminded in-text of the fact that the Haans are East Asian, that they’re from China, that they’re Chinese immigrants, that they’re second-generation British Chinese or whatever the fuck, and that they’re also horrifying conduits for blood, gore, and general fucked-up-ness? It’s absolutely not something that is Needed for the stories to be an effective piece of horror; the only thing it does is perpetuate incredibly harmful and hurtful stereotypes.

And listen, I love tma to bits. It’s taken over my blog. I’ve really loved my interactions with the fandom. And I am consistently blown away by Jonny’s writing and how well he’s able to weave foreshadowing and plot into an incredibly complex collection of stories. But I absolutely Cannot stop thinking about the Haans because it’s just. It’s such a blatant display of racial stereotyping in writing. And I’ve certainly seen a few voices talking about it here and there, and I don’t know if I’m just not looking in the right places, but it certainly feels like something that is just straight up not on the radar for a lot of tma fans. And I’m disappointed about that. 

Just, I don’t know. Take a look at those episodes again and do some of your own thinking about why these characters had to be specifically Chinese (answer: they didn’t.). And in general, PLEASE for the love of god turn a critical eye on character portrayals and descriptions whenever they are assigned specific races/ethnicities (Some examples that come to mind are Jude Perry, Annabelle Cane, and Diego Molina), because similar issues, to an extent, extend beyond the Haans, though I haven’t covered them here. 

You shouldn’t need a POC to do point out these problems for you when they’re so glaringly There. But for those of you who really didn’t know, hope this was informative in some way. I’m tired, man. If some of the only significant Chinese characters you write are violent cannibalistic men with a perverted relationship with meat, just don’t do it. Please don’t do it. 

EDIT: Since the making of this post Jonny has acknowledged and apologized for these portrayals on his twitter and in the Rusty Quill Operations Update, which went up September 2020. A long time coming, but better late than never. This of course doesn’t necessarily negate the harm done by Jonny’s writing, and doesn’t make me much less angry about it, but is appreciated nonetheless. For more on this topic there’s a lot of productive discussions happening in my “#tma crit” tag and in the notes of this post

[vivvyinvienna]

Dad!Draco admiring you with the baby and toddler

baby, baby (draco malfoy)

A/N: heyo! Back again w Dad!Draco, who i am an absolute sucker for. I had to google “how to play with a baby” before writing bc i don’t rly understand children. To the nonny who requested, i hope you enjoy xoxo

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Dad!Draco has to take a couple of sick days from work but that also means he gets to spend more time with his beloved family. Fluff :))

Warnings: unedited, baby scorp cuteness, mentions of pregnancy, stomach flu?

----------

When Draco started rousing from his nap, it was already late in the afternoon. His body’s natural inclination to turn towards his wife took over despite his still dozing mind. After being married to Y/N for seven years and sleeping in the same bed for even longer, every time he woke up Draco felt this physical yearning for the warmth and intimacy that only being intertwined with her could provide. But today, he was disappointed. The cold sheets to his left brought him fully out of his sleep-induced haze.

Once Draco was fully awake, he used the bearing magic that was embedded into the intricate blood wards of their family home to locate his wife and child. It only took a second before he knew that Y/N and Scorpius were in the living room. Normally he wasn’t one to nap for hours while making his wife be solely responsible for their son, but Draco was still recovering from an exceptionally brutal stomach flu. He had stayed home from work for the last three days, trading his job at Malfoy Inc for saltine crackers, stomach cramps, heating pads, and an overzealous number of bathroom trips.

He stood up from the bed and padded out of the room in search of his family. When he neared the entrance of the rosy-tinted living room, he was graced by the sound of his child giggling and his wife idly talking. Standing in the doorway, he breathed in the sight of the two people who he loved with every inch of his battered heart. The floor-length French windows were slightly ajar, letting in the breeze of summer and the scent of peaches. The sunset coming in painted the room with the blush of a rose petal and the bloom of sedation. 

You were sitting on the creme-colored couch, bouncing Scorpius on your knees. He had just turned one-year-old a couple of weeks ago, and already he was starting to lose some of his chunky baby fat which you and Draco both adored. But he was still the cutest baby in your eyes, with or without his chubby baby legs. With his cherub cheeks, bright eyes, and wispy tufts of the distinct Malfoy hair, no other baby could compare. You sat with your back facing the doorway, so you didn’t notice Draco until Scorpius started squirming away from you and let out a very enthusiastic “Da! Dada!” 

Draco let out a jovial laugh when he saw the big toothy grin on his son’s face. He immediately held out his arms to steal Scorp from his mother. 

“Hey buddy!” Draco responded to him with the same amount of energy. “What have you been up to today?” He talked to Scorp like an adult, treating his noises as real answers. 

Scorpius babbled. 

“Oh really? You know, I took a pretty good nap too today.”

More babbling. 

“Well, why don’t we go to the pond tomorrow?”

Scorpius continued.

“Of course buddy, it’ll be warm out tomorrow.”

He moved to sit down next to you, giving you a pillowy kiss and wrapping the arm that wasn’t holding a toddler around you. Draco couldn’t help but stare. The fading sunshine glowed upon you with romantic affection. You were ethereal to him. He looked at you the way every girl dreamed of being looked at. And the depth of his eyes held promises. Promises that there was no one in the world he would rather see and be with than you. 

“Hey mama,” his soft words reverberated with the utmost tenderness.

This time you leaned over to kiss him. As your lips touched his, he felt a murmur of enchantment somewhere in his body. It felt a bit like healing and a bit like elation, but he was too peaceful to bother pinpointing. 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart? Is your stomach still hurting?” you were still concerned over his health despite him looking much better than before he went to nap. 

“I feel better, I think it’s run its course,” he answered matter-a-factly. 

Your conversation remained brief because Scorpius let out a whine. Probably because neither of his parents was giving him attention.

You turned your attention to your son. You danced your fingers on his cheeks, making him let out a precious giggle. As Draco watched, he felt the bells of sunshine ring in his heart, a feeling only explicable by the child in his arms and wife at his side. 

The two of you moved to the floor of the couch and continued to play with Scorp. It wasn’t before long though when he decided that his favorite ferret stuffed animal was more entertaining than his parents and crawled away to play with it. With Scorp occupied, Draco decided this was the perfect time to talk to you about something he’d been ruminating over.

“I have something to talk to you about,” he started. 

You took in an over-exaggerated gasp, “Are you breaking up with me?” you said with no real distress. 

He went along with you, “That’s actually the second thing I want to talk to you about.”

“Ok well, what’s the first?”

He took in a deep breath, as if slightly nervous. “I think I want to step down from Malfoy Inc for a little while and spend more time at home with you two.” 

You turned to fully face him. You were elated at the possibility but a bit hesitant in case he hadn’t fully thought it through yet.

“I’d love to have you home more, I’m sure Scorp does too,” you paused, “but you love your job.”

“But I love you guys more. A lot more actually,” there was no wavering in his affirmation. 

“You won’t get bored being at home all day?” you pushed a bit more. 

“I was planning on picking up some of my old alchemy projects. And you remember all the notebooks Severus left me?” 

You did.

“I think it’d be good to finish some of his potions research.”

You agreed. 

“I’ve honestly been thinking about stepping down for a while and being at home these last three days just really reminded me of how much I miss every day. He’s growing up so fast. And I miss being home with you and Scorp.”

“I miss having you home too, I miss you all the time.” You almost laughed at how clingy you sounded. “So if you want to step down, I won’t be the one to stop you.”

He gave you that smile, the one that was reserved only for you. “I guess I’m quitting my job,” he sounded nonchalant but the excitement was obvious in the smile lines of his eyes. 

“One stomach flu and you’re ready to quit your job. I’d hate to see what a migraine does to you,” you teased.

“Shut up,” he feigned offense. “Merlin, Y/N I threw up so much I finally understand how you felt when you were pregnant.”

You gave him a questionable look. “For some reason, I doubt it.” The room filled with Draco’s laughter again. 

“Speaking of pregnancy…” he shifted closer to you, slowly gliding his large hand onto your belly. “I want to put another baby in here.”

“You are just full of ideas today.” He was about to open his mouth to persuade you further, when you continued, “But I can’t say that’s a bad one.”

A boyish grin took his face. 

Then, taking you both by surprise, a loud grumble came from Draco’s midsection. You both stilled and looked at each other for a couple of seconds before he groaned and started whining. Pulling his hand away from your belly, he moved to cradle his own. And you laughed, you laughed an absurd, charming little laugh because you couldn’t get over how Draco’s whining sounded exactly like Scorpius’.

[writing-in-april]

Postmarked In The Past

Spencer Reid x Female Single Mom Reader

Summary: After sixteen years of no contact Reader reconnects with Spencer because she has to reveal the secret she’s been keeping since she stopped sending letters to him.

A/N: Hey heyyy! This is my sixteenth fic (it’s actually was totally unintentional to choose the 16th for this fic even though the daughter is 16 in this fic lol 😂) for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! This one is based off of this request and is part of my unlinked Spencer Reid & Letters series! Thanks for all the love and support lately- I was going to put out my plan for my 1500 follower celebration yesterday or today but if you saw my post I’ve been struggling so it’ll probably come on the 19th or the 20th. Submit an ask here- I love hearing from everyone 🥰Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy 🥰

Warnings: Reader keeps a huge secret she definitely shouldn’t have, Reader is a single mother-the daughter doesn’t have a specified name but she is specified to be 16, Reader is very defensive when her daughter finds the letters, mentions of a one night stand

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.5k

Spencer had been a bright spot in my life, one that had been snuffed out all because of me. When I had found myself pregnant with his child, after I had visited him once, I bolted. For a long time I justified my actions, saying to myself that it was better that Spencer was unburdened while his career was just starting out. But, deep down I knew how wonderful Spencer would have been as a father, how he would have moved heaven and earth to make everything work. And, that guilt haunted me.

The memories I had of him were so far in between, every moment with him had been so fleeting at the end. I struggled to sometimes even remember how he looked as it had been sixteen years since I last laid eyes on him.

I had to strain my memory to remember the way his gelled hair curled around his ears and how sometimes I saw him let the curls free only around me. His eyes had been brown, I could remember that. But, pinpointing what shade they were when they glinted in the light or were drenched in the shadows was lost to me. I knew he had been tall and lanky, his hands reflecting that with how spindly they were. To remember how those fingers had felt on my skin, or how his lips had marked me, or how he would gently stroke my hair was too difficult. Whether it was because I couldn’t remember or that I didn’t want to, it was just too hard for me to want to try to strain my memory anymore.

The labor had been the most difficult thing I had gone through, no one had been there to hold my hand. And, I didn’t really want anybody else except Spencer holding it. I had gritted my teeth and accepted it, pushing through the physical and emotional pain, especially since the pain of losing Spencer had been entirely because of me. I had been given a beautiful baby daughter that day and it was then that I started to force myself to forget Spencer, she looked too much like him to be able to bear.

The only things that remained in my life that involved him were the letters I sent to him in the last year of our relationship while we were long distance and my daughter. The letters were able to be shoved in a box at the bottom of a closet, but my daughter confronted me with my actions everyday by existing. I loved my daughter very much, I just tried to avoid the topic of her father by concocting a lie and making myself forget all of Spencer’s features so I wouldn’t see them as much in her. My nightmare would be the two things converging to confront me with my guilt, I don’t think I could handle that.

—-

At the kitchen table I saw my daughter, holding a letter. Her holding a letter wasn’t at its core a bad thing of course, but I could tell by the slight yellowing of the paper that it was getting old. Immediately panic spread through me; there were no other old letters she’d be looking at besides mine, the ones I sent to Spencer.

“Those are private.” I snapped defensively, definitely too hostile to be reasonable. It was obvious by my tone of voice that I was hiding something.

“Private?!” She yelled, giving away that she had already read at least a few of them. I clenched my eyes shut to prepare for her question, “Are these from my father?! Who you said was a one night stand?!” I vividly remember explaining the lie I had concocted for her, her being confused why I would only be with her father once. It was a hard subject to dance around, a difficult lie for me and her to swallow. But, the alternative was too painful for me to be honest with her, or honest with Spencer. And, I knew it made me selfish, at the time it had been so Spencer wouldn’t stop his blossoming career. With time I realized that I really had done it because I had been scared. The guilt had started to sting worse when I realized that.

I had been caught, there was no weaseling out of this. I hanged my head in defeat, finally admitting to the large lie I had even roped the rest of my family in, “Yes.”

If she had been a dragon she’d be breathing fire on me while she spoke, “And why would you keep this from me! Did he do something bad or something?! Is that why you didn’t tell me?!”

“No-I-“ I stammered a few times until I found the words, “I- I did it because I didn’t want to hold him back… We were so young, and I knew he’d quit his new job across the country to come back to me.” Keeping the details still vague was my only armor right now. I kept to myself how those letters were the way we communicated for months when he started in the academy. We were only able to meet up once a month, and one month I unexpectedly fell pregnant. I never sent another letter or came to visit him again once I found out.

She clenched her jaw at me, looking back down at the scores of letters that we had written, and I had hidden. Her next question now made me clench my jaw, “C-can I see him? Or call him? Or send him a letter?” If you don’t know how to contact him anymore I’m sure we can-“

I was nervous as to where this was going. There was no way I could contact Spencer again after all these years, the guilt already ate at me everyday. Seeing and remembering his face would only make it worse. Fear was fueling me and I cut her off because of it, “No- I- I don’t think it’s a good idea...I just need more time- until I’m ready.” I started to shrink away from her, my authority slipping through my fingers as I became more and more vulnerable.

“You’ve waited sixteen years, you’ll never be ready.” The spite in her voice was stinging, she wasn’t completely wrong in her statement.. And when I didn’t answer she then stormed away, slamming the door to her room.

——

Our relationship in the few weeks following was strained at best, estranged at worse. She barely spoke to me since then, the biggest conversation we had was about what was for dinner- and that had been about two sentences long.

I was slowly coming around to the idea of perhaps finding a way for her and Spencer to reconnect. The guilt that I had been so afraid of becoming worse if I confronted it head on, only grew worse by avoiding it. I was actually going to talk to her after I got home from work, until I realized what she did.

She left her own letter on the table titled Dear Mom, detailing where she was going without giving any specifics. There was one part that gave her reasoning for writing her plan down, she didn’t want me to have a heart attack even if she was mad at me. Plus there were a few sentences about how she had used her own money that she had been saving up, which was supposed to be for college only serving to make you even more frustrated. At the bottom she wrote- I’m going to find my Dad, please don’t follow me or call the police.

I scoffed to myself, wondering if she expected her warning to not to follow her to be followed. Of course I was going to follow her, there was no way I was going to just let her go off on her own like that.

It wouldn’t be too hard to find her. Spencer may have changed apartments since then, but one quick google search of news articles he was mentioned in showed me that he still worked at the BAU in Quantico. It was probably a safe bet that my daughter did the same thing and was planning on visiting him at his office.

The plane ride there had been tumultuous, not in the sense that there was any chaotic occurrence or severe turbulence on the plan, more like in my mind. My hands shook, my foot tapped, and my mind raced while I took the long flight from Las Vegas all the way to Quantico. My mind went round in circles whether or not I viewed Spencer meeting my daughter- our daughter as a good thing. It was difficult to accept that even though they’d both most likely be mad at me, they deserved to meet. Especially since I knew how good of a father Spencer could potentially be. Once I had landed I didn’t stop, getting a cab straight from the airport to where the BAU offices were located.

The building looked daunting in front of me. It wasn’t a skyscraper by any means, but the task that I was here to do was so big it felt like one as I stared at it while trying to work up the courage to go in. The guilt however, was too hard to ignore.

My mind was on autopilot as I told the secretary at one of the front desks. It was too stressful to focus on worrying, so exhausted from the emotional roller coaster I was riding. An agent had assured me that she was safe which made some of the stress melt from my shoulders luckily.

“Here she is.” The agent gestured to the office, empty of any other person except my daughter. I felt even more relieved now that I saw her with my own eyes.

When I entered she waited a second before speaking timidly with disappointment, “He’s not here, he's on a case.” Her demeanor had deflated almost immediately as she saw me escorted up.

“Who told you that?” My arms crossed around my chest, nervous and furious all at once. I didn’t need to tell my daughter how in trouble she was, by the pout on her face she knew she’d be getting grounded for a long time even if I did let her talk to him.

“This nice lady named Garcia, she works with him. But, she did tell me I had to wait for you until she called him” For the first time since I had read her letter to me I cracked a smile. When we had still been communicating, Spencer often wrote and spoke about his teammates. Besides a fleeting photo of the team shown to me by him while I had been over here visiting, all my perceptions of the team and how they might look were all based on my imagination.

Despite that, when a vibrantly dressed woman clicked her heels into the room, I knew it was her. Spencer had perfectly described her, shining bright compared to the dull colors of the bureau’s office.

“So your Spencer’s baby mama.” Yep, she was definitely as blunt and beautiful as Spencer had described. I blanched at her comment, though I didn’t deny it, which was all she needed to know to confirm.

“Can you give me his number?” I skittered past the question, not wanting to confirm it out loud.

She beamed brightly at me, already starting to punch in the numbers with the phone on the desk in front of me. “You can call him now if you want on this phone, they just stopped working for the day.”

When she handed me the phone, it had already started ringing. I couldn’t help but panic, almost refusing the phone until my daughter nudged me forward to grab it. My finger trembled severely as I wrapped my hands around the phone, but I still managed to hold on to bring it up to my ear just as someone picked up the phone.

“Hello?” It was him, he sounded so similar to the boy you knew, that boy was a man now. He sounded more haggard compared to sixteen years ago; I wondered what all had happened since then.

“Hey- Spencer it’s me.” By the hitch in his voice that came through the speaker, he knew who it was.

At first I heard nothing from him, only some rustled feedback in the speaker. My shoulders were practically at my ears now afraid he might hang up. He did eventually stumble out a greeting, “H-hi? Why are you calling me after all these years- aaand on a phone at my work?”

“I’ve got to be honest with you,” I cryptically answered with an evident shake in my voice. I was biting my nails now, not caring if I chipped the polish on them. My daughter grabbed my hand to comfort me even though she was probably still furious at me which helped coax out my next statement, “cause I haven’t told you why I stopped talking to you…” I breathed in deeply once before I finally admitted the secret I had held for so many years, “Spencer, you have a daughter, she just turned sixteen.”

Dead silence was all I got, that was until I heard a choked out sob from him, “Why?”

He didn’t need to elaborate any further, it was quite clear what he was asking. Again another meek shaky reply came from me, “There were a lot of reasons- the main one was I didn’t want to hold you back.”

My daughter was now crying as was I, I hadn’t given her my reasoning until now. Maybe one day I’d give Spencer all the reasons why I had hidden it from him for so many years even though it was painful. I had held a lot of guilt about not ever contacting him again or even sending another letter. Spencer deserved to know everything, especially about his daughter who was the spitting image of him in almost every way.

“Can I talk to her?” I agreed, which seemed to surprise my daughter. I think she thought I’d be furious enough with her to not let her speak to him. She would still be getting many privileges taken away from her, just not this one as it was my fault she never knew her father in the first place. My fingers shook even more as I moved to click the speaker button so he could hear her speak.

“Hi- dad.” They spoke for a while, while I took the back seat, barely interjecting. They both deserved every ounce of father and daughter time that I had deprived them from throughout the years. My chest did feel lighter now that I had told him, now that my daughter was getting the chance to know him. Hearing them laugh and giggle with each other almost immediately only cemented how much she was her father’s daughter.

When the phone was handed back to me, after seemingly hours of talking (Garcia had even popped in a few times to get me more coffee) Spencer asked,“Can you stay in Quantico till I get back?”

I smiled, happy that I’d finally be able to see and remember his face again after all this time, “We’ll be here waiting, it’s time you meet your daughter in person.”

Ask Me Anything

—

Tag lists (fill out this form to join): If your url has a strike through it means tumblr won’t let me tag you- check in your settings if you allow yourself to be searchable

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @multixfandomwriter @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

Letters Series: (Group of Unlinked fluff fics about Spencer and letters): @whoreforthebau @sierraraeck @90spumkin

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 10

I’m sorry its taken me so long to update. I haven't had much time to write lately due to....well, life. But here we are and its long, so hopefully that makes up for the length. 

Side note- the Norwegian used is from Google translate so....

Warnings: swearing, mild sexual content, Lothbrok family dynamics (yes, its a warning), threats of violence

Words: 15,700 (yep, my longest chapter yet. I packed ALOT into this beast)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @ecarroll1978 @breezykpop @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​

Series Masterlist

"Where are we going? I thought we were going to your flat?" 

 Gyda slyly smiled at Kari, sitting in the passenger seat of her bright yellow Porsche. "Change of plans."

 Kari stared at her friend. "I'm scared to ask."

 "Torvi asked for female reinforcement. So, we are going to keep her company."

 "Ok…. But where is that?" 

 "At the brothers' house." The blonde answered nonchalantly as she made a quick right-hand turn. "It's tradition. Kind of a last family summer party before it's too cold to swim anymore. They have a pool in their backyard."

 Kari felt her stomach drop. Ivar had told her he lived with his three other brothers. Gyda had her own flat while Bjorn and Torvi owned a house nearby. Whenever she tried to ask Ivar about his home, he would shrug off the question or ignore it completely. Eventually she just stopped asking. Curiosity certainly reared its head when she wondered what his home was like. For how much money meant nothing to him, she guessed it was massive and expensive. Maybe he knew she would not fit in and that was why he never brought her? Even through his speeches of wanting her to be his girlfriend, he knew she would not fit into his lifestyle. Why else would he keep her away? It was a valid truth that she had come to terms with. Even if she found herself secretly desperate to ease into his life, she never would. 

 "Of course, they do…." Kari rolled her eyes at the notion that obviously, there was a pool in their backyard. It fit the stereotype in her mind. Then she thought about what Gyda just said. "Wait. Do you have a swimsuit with you?"

 Gyda raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her while keeping her eyes on the road. "Don't worry, I've got you covered. Torvi brought an extra of hers for you."

 "You had this planned, didn't you? We never were going to your flat, were we?"

 "I don't kiss and tell."

 "Yes, you do. There was that guy you hooked up with two weeks ago that kept sending you dick pics after."

 "That guy was way too proud of his dick. I mean it wasn't even that big."

 "I don't want to hear this again." Kari groaned, tugging on her diamond earring. She enjoyed Gyda but she had learned far more about the woman's sex life than she had any desire to know. 

 "Okay, fine. And yes, Torvi and I planned this. Ivar doesn't know you're coming."

 "Why?"

 Gyda smirked. "Because he's been so secretive and only Hvitserk has seen you two together. Besides, the rest of the brothers want to meet you. We may be at each other's throats most of the time but we do care for one another."

 The brunette let her friend's words sink in. Hvitserk had mentioned the others wanting to meet her, but she had not fully believed it. Sure, she wanted to meet them and was curious after hearing Ivar talk about them, but why would they be interested in her? She glanced down at her clothes, the capri leggings and tank top that were practically a signature look for her. For once, she wished she dressed nicer regularly. "I wish you had said something before."

 "You wouldn't have come then. You'd have created some excuse why you couldn't come." Gyda pointed out the obviously painful truth without remorse. 

 Kari slouched in the passenger seat, butterflies doing somersaults in her belly. Slowly, she pulled her ponytail down, letting her hair hang loose past her shoulders, running her hand through it absent-mindedly in hopes it looked decent. 

 At a red light, Gyda looked over at her with a bright smile. "It'll be fun." 

 "I don't know…. isn’t it supposed to be just family?"

 "Ubbe sometimes brings his girlfriend but yeah, it's usually just family."

 There was another long silence before Kari spoke again, unable to fully conceal her nerves. "You should drop me off and just go. I don't want to intrude."

 "You're not. I'm bringing you because there is always way too much testosterone." Gyda groaned, then reached over and swatted Kari's leg. "What are you so worried about?"

 "What if they don't like me?" She whispered. The weight of her confession hung over her like a dark cloud. 

 "What?"

 She kept her gaze out the window. "The…. the others. What if they don't like me?"

 Gyda laughed. "Kari, don't worry. They will love you. I promise. And if they say anything fucking stupid, I'll slap them or Ivar will stab them. See? Simple."

 A smile grew on Kari's face. "That shouldn't make me feel better…. but for some reason it does." Maybe she had already spent too much time with various Lothbroks if the idea of people resorting to violence made her feel better. 

 "You aren't alone, if anything we'll steal Torvi and Asa away and have a girls' party."

 "Asa? That's her daughter, right?"

 "Right, and Hali is her son. I swear that boy is going to be a miniature version of Bjorn."

 "I've never been around kids much." 

 Gyda chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "They are great, Asa is a sweetie who prefers to cuddle in someone's lap. It's Hali who is a bit wild but all his uncles love to play with him. He'll probably be swimming in the pool the whole time anyway."

 Still staring out the window, Kari thought about everything Gyda had said. Of course, she was still nervous about just showing up to a family event unannounced, even if she was sort of being kidnapped by Gyda. Some of her nerves faded away with the knowledge that Gyda and Torvi both wanted her there. She really would not be alone. She had friends. She had people that wanted to spend time with her. Hopefully Ivar would be pleased to see her. His potential reaction was the only real wrinkle in her fluctuating confidence. 

 "Okay. I can do this." She said aloud, wondering if she was trying to fully convince herself. 

 "Good, cause we're almost there."

 Kari stared out the window as they approached a gated community. Gyda showed her ID to a guard who chatted with her like they were old friends. As the yellow Porsche drove by the houses in the community, Kari just stared in awe. She had seen houses, mansions was a better term, like these before but it always amazed her that people lived in them. What did they do with all that space? All of the homes were set back from the road so Kari only caught glimpses of them but it was enough to remind her how out of her element she was. 

 Finally, they pulled up a long driveway to a massive two-story house. It was white with an insane number of windows, and a huge garage attached on the left side. On the right side looked like an expansive addition that made Kari wonder why they needed more space. The roof was made of some slate gray tiles, with a balcony above the front door and ivy draping elegantly over the corners. There were various sized potted plants and shrubbery around the front of the house and leading down the sides. Several European beech trees were strategically placed in the front yard to block most of the view from the road in an attempt at privacy. Whoever the grounds keeper was, for surely they had one, needed a raise. 

 Kari could only gape for a long moment, unable to move as she took in the immaculate, beautiful house. To think this was where Ivar lived and he always came over to her tiny townhouse. It was a struggle to tamper down the post embarrassment. 

 Gyda started talking as she parked in front of the house. The only other vehicle in sight was a silver four-door Audi, that Kari recognized as Torvi's. "Aslaug chose the house for them. When she isn't traveling for work or staying at their family home in Norway, this is where she stays. So, she insisted on this place. Something about the natural sunlight and old aesthetic blending with the new vibe. Or some other shit. I can't remember."

 "Huh." Kari said as she followed the blonde out of the car. She noticed there was no mention of the father, Ragnar, and wondered where he stayed but knew it was none of her business so she kept her question to herself. Maybe Ivar would explain it to her. 

 Gyda opened the solid, wood front door, waltzing in like she had done this a million times. Kari took two steps in and froze. The vaulted ceiling in the foyer was enough to stare at but it was the large chandelier that caused her to stare. The way it caught the afternoon light through the many windows and gently cast it about was truly gorgeous. This view was worth owning the house for itself, in her opinion. 

 A tugging on her arm made Kari squeak as she found herself suddenly being dragged along like a ragdoll. 

 "You can stare later, Torvi is waiting for us." Gyda stated, a large purse over her shoulder and her heeled boots clicking on the shiny, wood floor with each step. 

 Kari caught glimpses of other rooms as they passed down the long, straight hallway. A living room with a TV that took up most of the wall it was on. A kitchen that would make any celebrity chef drool. Pictures and awards displayed along the walls in the hallway that were obviously put up by their mother.  

 The two finally stepped out into a room with glass walls, where the pool and expansive backyard lay before them. Most likely what used to be a porch before being enclosed. Still being pulled along, Kari followed Gyda through a side door onto the stamped concrete that surrounded the pool and lounge area. A pool in a rectangle shape dominated the area, a diving board on the far end. A quick glance around showed a jacuzzi on the other side, closer to the house, the water bubbling like a cauldron. There was a large grill, several short tables and lounge chairs spread over the stamped concrete. At the far end was an adult size statue of the Buddha with two flowering pots on either side of him and some kind of cheap, plastic crown on his head. 

 The backyard was several acres wide and at least that many in length. Trees and large shrubs blocked the views of the neighbor's properties and made the place feel almost like a hidden oasis. Further down in a corner was a lovely gazebo with a cobbled stone path leading to it and gardens decorating the way. 

 "Gyda! What took you so long?!" A distinctly male voice called out. 

 "I had to pick up a package." She called back, pulling Kari into full view of the others. 

 The brunette gave a small, self-conscious smile at the many pairs of eyes that she could feel land on her. Before she could really get a good look at who was around, a shout of her name startled her. 

 "Kari!" Hvitserk jumped up from his lounge chair, wearing only dark green swim trunks, and walked over to her with a beaming smile. 

 "Hey…. OH!" She started to greet him only to be swallowed into a hug and spun in a circle. Unable to deny him, she hugged him back and laughed. It was funny since last time she saw him, he was in business attire, coming to check on her per Ivar's instructions. Now she could not help but notice his toned body. His form reminded her more of a runner, while she was used to seeing Ivar's muscular torso. A couple tattoos on Hvitserk caught her eye and she wondered if all the brothers had them. 

 When he finally set her back on her feet, he kept his hands on her shoulders, green eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "I didn't know you were coming here."

 "Yeah, I didn't know either until Gyda told me on the way."

 He chuckled, glancing over her head to his half-sister. "Yeah, not surprising."

 "Uh huh. Watch yourself, boy. I could still beat your ass if I wanted too." Gyda quipped. 

 "Maybe fifteen years ago. You don't have a chance now."

 "Keep telling yourself that, Hvitty." She teased, then yelled at Torvi. "You got it?"

 As soon as Kari was released by Hvitserk, she could sense a pair of sharp, blue eyes boring into her. Skin prickling under the sensation, she hesitantly looked up and immediately met Ivar's intense gaze right away, as if subconsciously her mind already knew where he was without having to search for him. 

 Reclined back on a cushioned, lounge beach chair, he wore loose black sweatpants, instead of swim trunks, under his leg braces, but without a shirt. His tattoos were a stark contrast on his skin and shamelessly on full display. Her fingers twitched with the urge to trace them again. It was his penetrating gaze though, the lack of emotion on his handsome face, that made her wonder if being here was a bad idea. 

 Before she could make a run for it, Gyda grabbed her arm as if sensing her desire to flee. "C'mon, let's get changed."

 With one last glance at Ivar, she followed behind Gyda and Torvi, who had joined them, back into the massive house. They headed to the kitchen and Gyda pointed out a bathroom across the way. 

 Placing the beach bag on the kitchen counter, Torvi dug in it for a moment before murmuring a quiet "here it is" and handed Kari something. "Here. I bought this forever ago but never wore it. Bjorn said he didn't like the colors."

 Kari took it, guessing it was the promised swimsuit, and peeked down at the two pieces of clothing in her hands. "Um…. where’s the rest of it?"

 Laughing, Gyda rolled her eyes. "Get in there and change or I'll do it for you."

 With a concerned look between the swimsuit in her hands and the two blondes staring at her expectantly, Kari finally conceded defeat and stepped into the bathroom. It was only a half bath, with a toilet and sink, but it was still roomy and felt fancy somehow. The mirror above the sink was large and there was a small, pretty flowering plant on the counter that upon inspection, turned out to be real. 

 Quickly, she changed out of her leggings and tank top and into the swimsuit, figuring it was best that way, like ripping off a band-aid. Plus, if she stopped moving, her nerves would get the better of her and she would somehow find a way to sneak home. Even if she had to crawl through a window. A smile grew on her face remembering Hvitserk's enthusiasm to see her. That had honestly surprised her but she found she did not mind. Hvitserk seemed like a good guy and the little bit of time they had spent together, she felt comfortable with him. He was funny and caring. 

 Then Ivar's blank face came to mind and all of her excitement slipped away like water down a drain. There had been no acknowledgement, not even the hint of a smile, only a hard stare that made her anxious and self-conscious.  

 Taking a deep breath, she tried to remind herself what Gyda said. At least the two Lothbrok women wanted her here, and apparently Hvitserk was happy to see her. That was what she needed to focus on and not Ivar's reaction.

 Once done changing, she finally took stock of what Torvi had leant her and gasped.  

 "Oh no. No, no, no. Hell no."

 She stared down at the wide-band bikini. The top and bottom both had alternating white and light pink stripes, strangely reminding her of cotton candy. The design was certainly something she would never pick out for herself but she did not hate it. The real problem was the way half her ass cheeks hung out of the bottoms and more of her breasts saw the light of day than they ever had before. Never had she been so exposed. Even swimsuits she bought in the past were never this revealing. Her gaze immediately zeroed in on her fuller hips and thighs, fully exposed. Faint whispers that sounded like her mother's taunts echoed in the recesses of her mind as she stared at herself. There was no way she could go out in this. She would rather wear her leggings and tank top than have anyone see her wearing this. They would all laugh at her. 

 "Kari? You done yet?" Torvi called through the door. 

 "I'm…. I’m not coming out in this!" 

 "Let us see it first!" Gyda shot back. 

 "But…." Kari tried once again, unsuccessfully, to tuck her breasts into the bikini top. "It's padded!" 

 "Open this door, Kari." Gyda demanded, suddenly sounding closer. 

 She took one more look at herself, feeling the embarrassed tears welling in her eyes. With a deep breath, knowing she could not escape Gyda just yet, she opened the door. Immediately her blue-green eyes scanned to make sure it was only Gyda and Torvi in the kitchen before she further opened the door so they could see. 

 "Shit, Kari, you look great." Gyda said after giving a wolf whistle. 

 "Half of my butt is hanging out and most of my boobs. I can't wear this out there." She said, almost panicking now. 

 "No, they aren't, you're overexaggerating."

 "Kari," Torvi said kindly, drawing the brunette's frenzied attention, "you're more curvy than I am and let's be honest, your ass and tits are bigger than mine. I'd kill to have a body like yours. You look beautiful. But if you're uncomfortable, I think I have a cover you can wear over it."

 "Please." She replied softly, hating how she sounded like a fearful child.  

 Torvi smiled at her. "I'll be right back."

 Swiftly, Kari stepped back into the bathroom before Gyda could say anything. Her nerves felt alight and not in a good way. Grabbing her phone, she scrolled through her Pinterest, anything to distract herself from this nightmare. If it was just Gyda and Torvi seeing her in this, she might have been uncomfortable but she could tolerate it. Even with Ivar she might have shied away some but he always made her feel so desirable that she doubted her nerves would have lasted long. It was the thought of prancing around in this in front of the other brothers, men she had never met, that made her stomach twist into knots and her breathing quicken painfully. 

 Finally, a gentle knock on the door and a quiet, "It's me," had Kari open it to take the cover from Torvi. It was a solid white oversized V-neck cover with a simple pattern around the neckline. Without wasting a moment, she slipped it on over the bikini, immediately feeling better. The hem of the cover touched the tops of her thighs, higher than she would have liked, but it was better than before. 

 She looked up, running her hands over the cover. "Thank you." 

 Torvi smiled softly with understanding. "I understand. I don't wear swimsuits that show my stomach anymore. Stretch marks." She shrugged casually, moving back to slip onto an island stool. 

 Kari trailed behind her with her bundle of clothes and purse. Without a word, Gyda slipped into the bathroom to change, leaving the other two waiting for her. It was now that Kari really took note of Torvi's swimsuit; it was a classy black and white one piece with thin crisscross straps across the back. The blonde could easily wear a bikini and look amazing in it, but it made Kari feel marginally better that she was not the only one self-conscious about her body. Perhaps that was why Torvi shared about her stretch marks?

 "Is it…." Kari started then stopped, leaning against the black marble countertop. Surveying the grand kitchen for a second, hoping to gather her thoughts, she took a deep breath before continuing. "Is it okay that I'm here? Gyda said this is a family event and I don't want to intrude."

 Torvi turned to face her fully, green eyes gazing at her before she shrugged again. "Normally we try to keep it just family, Ubbe sometimes brings Margrethe, but I doubt anyone will be upset you're here. Honestly, the brothers keep asking about you, so now maybe they will finally shut up and stop teasing Ivar."

 Kari fiddled with the hem of the swimsuit cover. "He didn't seem happy to see me."

 "Ivar?" At Kari's nod, Torvi snorted. "I don't think it's you he's upset with. He's a very private person, as I'm sure you know. If I took a guess, I'd say he was keeping you hidden."

 "But why?"

 "Look, I've known the Lothbroks for about ten years and during that time, I've seen Ivar go through some ups and downs…. well, as much as he lets anyone see. I mostly heard it from Bjorn. Point is, he's allowing you into his inner circle. Hell, you're probably at the center of his inner circle. I saw how he acted with you at the yoga studio. You mean something to him. It's no secret he wants you to be his girlfriend. Maybe he is worried that you'll meet his family and decide we're too much or that you find one of his brothers more attractive or easier to deal with? He pretends to be super confident but it wouldn't be the first time that a woman chose one of the others over him."

 Every time Kari heard that, her heart broke once again for Ivar. How many times had he been overlooked because of his legs? Or his harsh demeanor? Something that she was beginning to realize was just to protect himself, to keep others at arm's length. It made her want to hug him and never let him go, to remind him he was more than just his disability. That he was worth being cared about by more than just family. 

 Kari must have been lost in her thoughts for longer than she realized. Suddenly she was drawn out of her inner musings by Gyda coming out of the bathroom, having changed into a plant print cutout tankini. Of course, looking like she just stepped out of a magazine cover. There had to be something in the Lothbrok blood for everyone to be this damn attractive. 

 "Are we ready?" She asked, her large bag in hand, presumably with her clothes in it. "Kari, you can put your stuff in here for now."

 Torvi touched Kari's shoulder. "Don't worry. If anything, you are here to keep me and Gyda company, okay?"

 Kari smiled, finding herself reassured and grateful for the two women. "Thanks." She slipped her clothes and shoes into Gyda's bottomless bag. They stashed their bags in the glass room and then headed back out into the backyard. 

 Soon as they stepped out, a little girl came running over. Torvi swept her up into her arms gracefully. She turned to Kari with the little blonde girl on her hip. "This is Asa. How old are you, Asa?"

 The little girl stared at her mom before shyly tucking her face into the crook of Torvi's neck, while her blue eyes stayed on Kari. After a moment, she held up two fingers. 

 "You're two?" Kari asked. When the little girl shyly nodded, Kari's smile widened. "I wish I was that old. It's nice to meet you, Asa. I'm Kari."

 Torvi pressed a quick kiss to the top of her daughter's head. "Did daddy let you play in the pool yet?"

 Asa shook her head. 

 "Alright, let's go kick his butt. He did promise, didn't he?"

 That made the little girl giggle and Kari could feel her heart melting slightly. She was just too cute and most likely spoiled by all her uncles. Even her swimsuit was a purple halter top and green bottom with a little skirt that was very The Little Mermaid-esque.  

 A happy scream followed by a splash drew Kari's gaze to the pool. A young boy resurfaced laughing loudly. Bjorn, she recognized, was in the pool also, but turned to look up at Torvi as she approached with Asa on her hip. 

 "Let's go sit down." Gyda slipped her arm through Kari's and pulled her along to where there was a grouping of lounge chairs. Ivar, Hvitserk and a curly-haired blond reclined with beers in hand. 

 Kari could feel Ivar's gaze tracing over her form as she approached, like fingers trailing over her skin leaving a fire in its wake. She sneaked a peek at him, only to find his ardent gaze on her. She blushed and kept her eyes downward. At least he did not look impassive anymore, but she still felt hesitant. 

 "Hey boys. What are we drinking this time?" Gyda questioned. 

 Hvitserk turned the beer bottle to show the label. 

 "Ew. I don't why you drink that shit. I'm going to get some wine. Kari, you want some?"

 "Ah, sure." She murmured.

 "Good. You boys be nice to my friend, especially you Ivar." With that Gyda walked back towards the house but not before giving Kari a subtle wink.

 "Take a seat, Kari." Hvitserk gestured to an open chair next to him. 

 For a split second she considered slinking into the seat, anything for the attention to be taken off her, but realized that was not what she actually wanted. It had been two days since she had seen Ivar and the last time they hung out, it was when he returned from his trip to Italy. He had picked her up the next day to take her out to eat but he ended up spending the majority of the time on his phone, yelling into it in a foreign language and seeming on the verge of throwing his phone or punching a wall. She ended up ordering take-out for them that they ate at her townhouse but he was too wired to really relax and left soon after. The next two days he had been busy with work so they could only text. The one time they managed to Face-Time, she could not help but notice his bruised knuckles and when she asked him about them, he said he did some boxing to release stress. 

 With butterflies doing somersaults in her belly, she took a step closer to stand near Ivar's lounge chair. Tugging on the hem of her cover as she quietly spoke. "Hey, Ivar. Can I sit with you?"

 "Oh, you're acknowledging me now?" He snapped, never removing his severe blue eyes off of her.  

 She blinked owlishly, surprised by his sharp tone. Her stomach dropped to her feet and she could feel an embarrassed flush rising on her cheeks. "Yeah, I'm sorry." She whispered, dropping her chin, unable to meet his eyes anymore. This was all a mistake, she knew it. This only sealed her poor decision. 

 Shifting to look back at the house, she wondered if she should find Gyda and beg to drive her back home, or if she should find the closest bus stop. Before she could take a step away, a calloused hand snatched hers in a firm grip. Startled, she looked down to see Ivar holding her hand. Her eyes jumped up to stare at him in shock, confused by his conflicting actions. In those vivid, expressive eyes she could easily read the regret in them. Without her conscious decision, her heart softened. 

 "Sit." He said quietly, what most likely meant to come out commanding but sounded more as a plea. She nodded and allowed him to guide her onto the wide lounge chair next to him. 

 A furious blush warmed her cheeks when Ivar wrapped an arm around her waist, tucking her into his side and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. What she assumed was his nonverbal apology. 

 "Hey, this is Sigurd." Hvitserk said, gesturing to the unknown blond sitting with them. "I don't think you've met him yet. Ubbe had to take a call, so you'll meet him later."

 "Hi, it's nice to meet you." She said, looking at the other Lothbrok. He had light blond, curly hair in frazzled braids and brown eyes. At first glance she would not have guessed he was one of the brothers, but she figured genetics were always weird. He had a lean body similar to Hvitserk with a tribal tattoo sleeve and a Thor's hammer necklace laying on his bare chest like the other brothers wore.

 He silently raised his beer bottle at her, still stretched out in his chair like a lazy cat in the sun. 

 Thoughtfully she peered up at Ivar, keeping her voice low. "I'm sorry, I didn't know Gyda was bringing me here otherwise I'd have told you. She literally didn't tell me until we were pulling up."

 "It's fine." He murmured evenly, but Kari got the feeling that was not how he truly felt. 

 "Do….do you want me to leave?"

 He sighed, his grip around her tightening for a moment, before he seemed to relax. "No. I'm glad you're here. It won't be boring…." a wolfish grin grew as he slid his hand up her exposed thigh sensually, ".... especially if you take off this cover and let me see what's underneath." 

 "No!" She squeaked, grabbing his roving hand before it could migrate further. 

 He chuckled. "Come on, kitten…. just a peek?"

 "Ivar, no."

 "Why not?"

 "Its…. it’s scandalous."

 Hvitserk raised his hand, a devious smirk on his face. "I want to see."

 She covered her face with her hands, embarrassment flooding her. "Oh gods, this was such a bad idea." Then she had to rapidly grasp Ivar's hand as it slipped under the swimsuit cover to caress her hip and trace her bikini bottom. "Ivar…."

 "Fine." He slipped his hand back out but splayed it over her exposed thigh. "You can show me later."

 Thankfully, Gyda reappeared with a glass of white wine in each hand and another blond male in tow who carried the wine bottle. He had short, cropped hair and a muscular body that spoke of many hours in the gym. Kari wondered if this was the brother that Ivar regularly worked out with. 

 "Why are you sitting with Ivar? I brought you here! I'm even bringing you wine!" Gyda teased, handing a glass to Kari. 

 "You also dragged me here unknowingly. Wine is the least you could do." Kari said without thinking, making the others laugh. 

 "You know damn well you're happy to be here." Gyda winked then took the open lounge chair next to her. "Right, I'm guessing you've been introduced to Sigurd." She flicked a hand in the curly-haired Lothbrok's direction followed by vaguely gesturing to the last unknown brother. "Now this pain in my ass, over here, is Ubbe. Ubbe, this is Kari."

 Sitting between Hvitserk and Gyda, Ubbe rolled his blue eyes but leaned forward to shake Kari's hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

 "Yeah, likewise."

 Ubbe sat back with an impish glint in his eyes. "So, you're Ivar's girl?"

 "Um…. we’re just..." She started, unsure what to say to his family. 

 Ivar broke in, his single word answer almost coming out in a growl. "Yes."

 She whipped her head to look at him, only for him to stare her down as if waiting to see if she could refute his claim. Logically, she knew she should say something, argue that they were only friends. Yet any rebuttal died on her tongue under his fierce gaze. Instead she chose to sip on her wine generously.  

 "Right." Ubbe finally said, watching the two with an amused look. 

 Sigurd scoffed loudly before taking a swig of his beer. 

 "Something you want to say, Sig?" Ivar turned narrowed eyes at his brother.

 The curly-haired brother smirked, seeming to debate saying anything. Finally, he sat up and his gaze zeroed in on Kari. "How much does he pay you to fuck him?"

 The reaction from those around was instantaneous. Next to her, Ivar tensed, ready to spring up and fight his brother. A sharp reprimand of "Sigurd!" came from both Gyda and Ubbe while Hvitserk pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 Something rose up inside Kari though. She understood enough to know about the animosity between Sigurd and Ivar. His comment felt more like a cruel jab at Ivar than her. She was just the pathway to try and cause torment between the brothers. But if no one else was going to stand up and defend the dark-haired Lothbrok, she would. 

 So instead of taking his words personally, she just smiled sweetly at Sigurd, placing a hand on Ivar's thigh as she responded. "He doesn't. I'm happy to do it for free. Besides, he has something you never will."

 "And what's that?"

 "A cock big enough to pleasure someone….is that why you go through girlfriends so quickly?"

 The rising tension evaporated in a flash. Gyda snorted so hard she almost dropped her wine glass. Hvitserk threw his head back laughing while Ubbe tried to cover his smile with his hand. Kari was sure her eyes were comically wide as what she said without thinking sunk in. Her face flushed and she pressed her face against Ivar's shoulder. Sure, she had meant to defend Ivar but she had not meant to be so crass. The statement seemed to fly out of her mouth before her brain could catch up. 

 Next to her, Ivar laughed as he nuzzled her. She squirmed under his onslaught but also at realizing she just insulted one of Ivar's brothers. Even if it was the one he liked least of all. For a fleeting moment, the idea she had just made herself an enemy crossed her mind. 

 When she sneaked a peek, Sigurd quickly drained the rest of his beer and walked away murmuring something about getting another one. 

 "I think you'll fit in, Kari." Ubbe stated, still trying unsuccessfully to hide his amusement. 

 Kari was unsure of that. She quickly took a large sip of the wine to settle her fraying nerves. What had she been thinking? It hurt to hear Ivar's brother being so blatantly cruel to him and if this was a regular occurrence, no wonder Ivar wanted to spend most of their time at her place. 

 "I didn't realize you liked my cock so much, kattungen." Ivar whispered salaciously into her ear, drawing her back to the present. His tongue flicked her earlobe, making her jolt. "I think I'll have to give you a reward later."

 She shivered at his tone, her core clenching without resistance. It was unfair how just at his husky tone alone, her body betrayed her desire. But they were in public though, in front of his family no less, so she willfully attempted to cool the heat warming her veins. With a smile, she tried to nudge him away from her but he was too strong, only tightening his grip on her and laying a quick kiss to her neck. 

 "I can't believe I said that." She whispered, hoping only he heard her. 

 He smirked, an unmistakable fire in his eyes. "It was sexy as fuck."

 Thankfully, Torvi came over to join the group, a welcome distraction for Kari as she was sure the fire in Ivar's gaze was enough to set her ablaze and further stoke her own heat. 

 Torvi settled into Sigurd's now absent spot. "What did I miss?" 

 "Kari said Ivar's cock is bigger than Sigurd's." Hvitserk stated smugly. 

 Torvi stared at Kari with a tilt of her head and an amused grin. "Really? And how did we get on the subject of dicks already?"

 Some of the group laughed as Kari covered her face once again, mortified that she was the center of attention because of what she thoughtlessly said. She had the sneaking suspicion none of them would ever let her live this down. 

 "Alright, enough. Come on, it's girl time now." Gyda grabbed Kari's hand and dragged her to her feet, much to Ivar's obvious chagrin. She scoffed, meeting her half-brother's gaze. "I'll give her back later."

 The three women wandered over to some open chairs further down from the guys and closer to the Buddha statue. Gyda carried the wine bottle and her glass while Kari carefully held her own glass. Torvi snatched a beer from a nearby cooler as they meandered over. Gyda settled on a single, lounge chair adjacent to a cushioned two-person seat which the other two sat on. 

 "Alright, we have a very serious matter to discuss. Your answer may or may not break our friendship." Gyda started, leaning forward as she pointed a single finger at the brunette. 

 Kari found herself straightening in her seat, hand clutching her wine glass tighter. 

 Eyes intent, Gyda's voice dropped conspiringly. "Who is sexier: Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes?"

 Shock rendered Kari momentarily speechless. At Gyda's serious tone, she had imagined a topic that would involve confessing a secret, not…. not a movie franchise. "Um…. Bucky." She hesitantly answered. 

 "Yes!!" Gyda shouted, throwing her arms up and almost spilling her wine. "I knew I liked you! Ivar, she is mine now!"

 Kari laughed at her enthusiasm; all concern having vanished instantly. "I take it you like him too?"

 "Hell yeah. I would willingly choke on his cock or he could pound my pussy to pulp and I wouldn't complain either way."

 Torvi shook her head, a hint of a smile tilting the corners of her lips up. "Something's wrong with you."

 "You prefer Steve?" Kari inquired, once she recovered from choking on air at Gyda's blunt statement. Her friend always had a way of surprising her, and giving her second-hand embarrassment.

 Torvi shrugged. "A tall, handsome blond. That's my kind of man."

 Peeking over at Bjorn who was still playing in the pool with both kids, Kari hummed thoughtfully. "Huh. Makes sense."

 "No wonder you are with Ivar if you prefer Bucky Barnes."

 "But we aren't…. together." Kari fixed her eyes on her wine, knowing her answer sounded lame even to her own ears. 

 Gyda patted her leg. "You keep telling yourself that."

 "We're just friends."

 "No, you aren't."

 "Kari, it's fine." Torvi shot Gyda a look. "It's between you two, it's not really our business."

 "She's our friend!" Gyda whined, throwing herself back in her seat dramatically. 

 "And she will let us know if something changes. Including telling us if Ivar does something stupid and we need to kick his ass."

 Kari giggled as Torvi tapped her beer bottle against her wine glass. "I promise. Hvitserk already made me swear too."

 "Good. So is Ivar really that good in bed?" 

 "Gyda!" Kari exclaimed but laughed at how shameless her friend was. 

 Torvi thankfully changed the topic of conversation to Ubbe's birthday coming up next month. Asa wandered over, wrapped in a green and brown towel with long ears sticking out that made her look like baby Yoda. When Sigurd eventually appeared, Hali dragged him to the pool where they jumped in together. Not long after, Hvitserk joined them, doing a cannon-ball with the splash almost hitting the ladies. 

 Kari chatted with Torvi and Gyda for some time, enjoying herself immensely. The topics varied, but she never felt unincluded. More than once, she glanced over, only to find Ivar's gaze already on her. After the third time, he tipped his head to the side and patted the spot next to him. A not-so subtle invitation or demand, depending on how you looked at it. 

 A smile teased her lips and she nodded. She started to rise, with her second glass of wine in hand, when the sound of a loud "shit" from Gyda distracted her. 

 "What is she doing here?" Torvi quietly asked with an undertone of frustration. 

 Curious, Kari followed their gazes towards the door leading into the glassed-in porch. She was met with the sight of two blondes emerging in matching, white swimsuits that barely seemed to cover anything. Both strutted as if they were on a runway, while chatting with one another. 

 "Kari, go sit with Ivar." Gyda encouraged, snatching her hand and leading her back without a moment's hesitation towards where Ivar and Ubbe were still sitting. The wine was left forgotten on the side table. 

 "What's going on?" Kari asked in a hushed tone. 

 "Drama. I can't believe that bitch brought her. What was she thinking?"

 "Gyda?"

 She clicked her tongue but hurriedly whispered back. "That's Ivar's ex."

 Surprise made Kari almost stumble but she managed to catch herself at the last second. Further explanations had to wait because they came upon the brothers at the same time the two blondes did. Soon as Kari was close enough, Ivar held out his hand, a sweet gesture, but she could see the tension and anger in the set of his shoulders and the thin line of his lips. Silently, he guided her to sit between his spread legs, arms banding around her waist and pulling her indecently close. For once though, she did not complain. 

 "Hey, baby." One of the blondes said in a sickly-sweet voice as she pressed a kiss to Ubbe's cheek. "Sorry we're late."

 "It's fine." Ubbe slowly answered as he shifted his gaze to the other blonde. "I didn't know you were bringing someone."

 "This is supposed to be family only." Gyda snapped, having dropped into her seat next to Ivar and Kari. 

 The blonde, who stood next to Ubbe still, narrowed her eyes at Kari. "Then why is she here?" 

 "That's Ivar's girlfriend." Ubbe answered.

 "Uh, hi, I'm Kari." She decided to speak up, hoping introductions would somehow break the rising tension. At her words, Ivar momentarily dropped his head to kiss her shoulder. Unsure if his actions were encouraging or reprimanding, she laid her hands over his, which were still wrapped around her. 

 "Hmmm…. Margrethe." She replied flatly, with a pinched look, as if talking to Kari was beneath her. "I'm Ubbe's fiancé."

 The other blonde smiled pleasantly as she looked Kari in the eye. "I'm Freydis. It's lovely to meet you."

 "Yeah, nice to meet you too." Kari managed to say around the suddenly tightened grip around her waist. She would be a liar if she said she was not intimidated by Freydis. While both women were beautiful, something that seemed required to be in the presence of the Lothbrok family, Freydis was a step beyond that. With her doll-like features, lovely blue eyes and flawless skin, she was gorgeous. Kari could feel all her own insecurities screaming at her in the presence of Ivar's ex. How the youngest Lothbrok went from someone as stunning as Freydis to as girl-next-door as Kari, she had no idea….and it made her uncomfortable. 

 "What the fuck is she doing here?" Ivar demanded, ignoring Freydis' presence completely.  

 Margrethe rolled her eyes as her hand slowly stroked across Ubbe's shoulders. "I get bored and wanted to spend time with my best friend, so fuck off." She turned her head to look at Freydis beside her. "Come on, let's get something to drink." 

 After a quick kiss to Ubbe, the two headed back towards the house but not before Freydis glanced back at Ivar and Kari one last time. 

 Once they were far enough away, Gyda rounded on Ubbe, not even bothering to contain her ire. "Fiancé? Really, Ubbe?" She sneered. 

 "Hell no. I haven't proposed. I damn well don't plan to and she knows it."

 "Why are you still with her? She's a greedy bitch."

 "Gyda, I know you don't like her but she's still my girlfriend."

 "Who the fuck knows why." 

 Ubbe turned his attention to Ivar. "I swear I didn't know she was bringing Freydis. I'd have told her not to come then."

 "As long as she stays the fuck away from me, I don't give a shit." The dark-haired Lothbrok growled at his older brother. 

 The residual tension in the air was painful to abide in. It felt like a caged animal, pacing, waiting, ready for the moment to unleash a terrorizing attack. 

 "Hey, I have a question." Kari blurted out, unable to take the way the tension made her skin feel like it was being sunburned. Once Gyda and Ubbe shifted to watch her, she posed her question. "Ah, well, I've been wondering for a while but why don't you guys have bodyguards or something?"

 Ivar snorted, brushing her hair over her shoulder to press his face into the crook of her neck, making her squirm although he did not relent his position. 

 It was Ubbe that answered with a wide grin. "Eh, we don't need them. We can handle ourselves."

 "But you guys have drivers, isn't the next step to have bodyguards?"

 "You worried for us?" Ivar whispered, nipping at her skin, only to soothe the spot with his tongue. 

 "I'm serious."

 "Let's just say we know how to protect ourselves. Besides, no one is stupid enough to come after us." Ubbe concluded, raising his beer in a mock salute.

 Gyda snickered. "This is why I stay out of the family business."

 "You've no issue spending Father's money though." Ubbe retorted in a jovial way. 

 She shrugged and sent Kari a playful wink. 

 A minute later, Bjorn, Torvi and Asa came over, taking open seats with Asa sitting in Torvi's lap. Even though Kari had met Bjorn before, it still shocked her to see how much larger he was compared to the other brothers, both in size and physique. Now sitting next to Torvi, he appeared larger. With his long, braided ponytail and shaved sides, a short beard and sharp, blue eyes, he seemed quite formidable. Kari wondered briefly if that helped with the family business. 

 "See Kari there, she is the one who teaches yoga." Torvi softly said to Asa. 

 Asa peeked over at Kari, shyly smiling, still wrapped in her towel but with a juice box in hand. 

 "I bet if you ask nicely, she might show you something." Torvi said then looked up at Kari. "Lately she loves watching me do yoga at home. It's cute when she tries to do it with me."

 Bjorn chuckled, slinging an arm over the back of his wife's chair. "And usually falls down onto her face."

 "Hey, she's trying!" Torvi defended, elbowing Bjorn in the side.

 Looking at the little girl across the circle of seats, Kari smiled. "Want me to show you something I've been working on? I'm not very good at it though, so if I fall over, you can laugh at me. I'll be laughing at myself too."

 Asa nodded fervently, eyes wide in anticipation. 

 "What do you say?" Torvi tapped her daughter's nose. 

 Asa looked up at her mom then back to Kari. "Please." Even though it came out sounding more like "peas".

 "Sure. I need to stretch some first." Kari stood up and immediately had to slap Ivar's hand away that prowled down the curve of her ass. She tried to glare at him over her shoulder, only to be met with a mock innocence. Overly aware of the eyes on her, she chose a spot nearby in the plush, green grass, trying to keep her nerves to a minimum. Carefully, she warmed up her muscles, doing a few simple stretches so as not to hurt herself. Honestly, she was nervous since she never did advanced poses in front of others. It was not that she was unable to, for she did them frequently at home on her own time. It just felt like she was vying for attention or trying to show off when she did advanced poses in view of others. Conflicting memories of her grandmother's encouraging voice fought with her mother's reprimand in her mind as she stretched. 

 "What are you going to do?" Gyda called over, returning from retrieving her wine glass and bottle. 

 The question pulled her from her mind's internal war, bringing her back to the present. "Um, it's called the super soldier."

 "Oooo, I like it already."

 Once stretched, Kari stood frozen for a moment realizing she was going to need to take her cover off to do the pose. 

 "Kari, you look sexy as hell, now take the damn cover off." Gyda called out. 

 Kari hesitated, fears and insecurities rising afresh within her. 

 "Do it or Ivar will get his ass up and help you. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

 "I hate you." She mumbled but gave in. Slowly, she walked back over to the circle of chairs, pulling the white cover off and dropped it on the lounge chair Ivar still sat on. Her eyes briefly flickered up only to meet Ivar's smoldering gaze. Instantly, she could feel herself flush. Hoping no one noticed, she moved back to her grassy spot. A loud wolf-whistle came from the direction of the pool, most likely from Hvitserk but Kari ignored it, knowing if she thought about it too much, she would make a run for it. Mentally preparing herself, she pulled her hair back into a bun on the nape of her neck, then faced the group but kept her gaze downward, too scared to look at them. 

 After taking a deep breath, she bent over to lay her hands flat on the grass without bending her knees. Next, she hooked her right shoulder behind her knee and extended her left arm for balance. She took a long, deep breath before continuing onward. Then she lifted her left foot and grabbed it with her right hand, still tucked behind her right leg. After another deep breath, she pulled her left leg up until her knee was pointed towards the sky. She held it there for three breaths before slowly releasing her leg back down and carefully straightening back up. 

 A small round of applause greeted her when she straightened. 

 "Another!"

 "You go, Kari!"

 "Do another one!"

 Blushing furiously at the cheers, she leaned forward into downward facing dog. Carefully, she slid her hands forward until her elbows touched the grass with her ass still in the air. Taking a deep breath and hoping she did not make a fool of herself, she engaged her core and kicked her legs up so she was doing a handstand but still on her elbows. Once she felt stable, she pressed her legs together and slowly bent her knees until they were almost parallel with her forearms on the ground. Feeling the burn in her core and arms, she hoped she could finish the pose without falling on her face. Next, she lowered her legs, knees apart now and big toes touching until her feet touched the top of her head. She could not help the smile that stretched across her face as she held the pose for a couple seconds, making sure to breathe slow. Scorpion pose was one she was still trying to master on her own, let alone in front of others. If anything, this felt like a victory for her. Methodically she unfurled, bringing her legs up and then back to the ground. 

 When she finally stood up, brushing the grass off her forearms, it was to another round of applause.

 "That was amazing!" Torvi said. 

 "I was thinking sexy as fuck!" Hvitserk exclaimed, a smile on his face from where he now stood, leaning against Ubbe's chair. 

 Self-consciously, Kari tugged on her swimsuit, making sure everything was tucked into place, as much as it could be, before pulling her hair out of the bun. She walked back over to the lounge chair quickly and yanked the cover back over her body. 

 "I'm going to wash my hands." She said without meeting anyone's eyes, skirting around the group and heading towards the glassed-in porch. 

 Laughter erupted behind her as she approached the door but she ignored it as she walked inside. She padded through the porch, stomach twisting in knots, and turned into the kitchen. Her feet stuttered to a halt as she noticed Margrethe and Freydis standing there with bottles of something in hand. For a split second she thought about turning and heading to the bathroom but it was too late as the two blondes noticed her intrusion. 

 "Hi, I just need to wash my hands." Kari explained. After a moment's hesitation, she walked around the opposite side of the massive island from them and towards the kitchen sink.

 "So, you're Ivar's girlfriend?" Margrethe stated with a mocking undertone. "I didn't think someone like you was his…. type."

 "Margrethe…." Freydis chided. 

 "What? Look at her. I mean she's got tits and an ass, and I guess she could be pretty but that's it."

 "I'm sorry." Freydis apologized kindly. After a long, awkward pause where the kitchen was silent besides Kari washing her hands, she asked, "How long have you and Ivar been together?"

 "Um, we aren't…. we’re just friends." Kari found herself admitting, as she finished drying her hands and turned around to see them both staring at her. Though Freydis had a gentle smile on her face, Margrethe looked nothing less than the cat that caught the canary and planned on lording it over everyone. 

 "Oh?" 

 "See. Told you, Dis. He is still single." Margrethe smugly said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "He's just playing the game."

 "Game?" Kari muttered aloud. 

 Freydis set her glass down and came around the island to stand in front of Kari. Her blue eyes were bright as they met Kari's. "You seem like a nice girl and clearly the others like you too. So, I'll be honest because I don't want you to get caught up in the Lothbrok drama and get hurt. Okay?"

 "Okay."

 "Ivar and I are getting back together. We're just taking a break right now. Truly, I know we are destined for each other and he agrees. We had a bad fight and needed some space but he loves me just as much as I love him. So, I know he will come back to me when he is ready. I'm so sorry to tell you that you're just the rebound girl. I'm sure he likes you but that's as far as it will ever go. Gyda likes to try and mess with the brothers' love lives so I am sorry if she dragged you into this without telling you the whole truth. It's not your fault. I am sure Gyda lied to you and probably Ivar too. But it's good for you to know now. I don't hold it against you if you've have had sex with him but just know your time with him is limited, okay? How long have you two been 'friends'?"

 "We met last month." Kari whispered, dread and despair a writhing mess of snakes churning in her stomach. Air refused to fill her lungs, leaving her struggling for breath. 

 Freydis sighed. "It probably will be soon then. Just take advantage of the things he purchases for you, so when he leaves, you can have something to sell if you're in a pinch. Yeah?"

 "Ah…. sure."

 "Good. You seem like a nice girl. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this."

 "It's…." Kari choked back a sudden sob. "It's alright. Thank you."

 "Of course, we girls need to look out for each other. Is there anything I can do for you?" She inquired, sounding so genuine in her desire to help, her gaze imploring and lips in a faint, comforting smile. 

 "No…. no. I just need to check my phone. Have you seen Gyda's bag?"

 "I think she left it on the porch." Margrethe helpfully added, never having lost the smug grin on her face as she watched Kari with a hawk-like intensity. 

 "Oh, right. Thank you." Kari shifted back and forth on her feet, body primed to run, to flee before anyone could see the tears that welled pathetically in her eyes. 

 Freydis reached out and squeezed her arm, a brief exchange of understanding, then strutted back around to grab her drink and follow Margrethe to the porch and outside. 

 Once alone, Kari pressed a hand over her mouth to try and stifle the sob that lodged itself in her throat. She knew it. Everything Freydis said made sense. 

 Without a second thought, she rushed around the island and onto the porch, quickly locating Gyda's bag. She scooped her purse and clothes out only to hurry back inside. A quick check of the time and she figured she might be able to catch a bus, but in this gated community, there was no way buses came through so she would end up walking somewhere. Feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, she sniffled, trying desperately to hold them back. She looked up the nearest bus stop on her phone, pleased it was only a few blocks away from the gated community. 

 Once positive she knew where she was going, she stared down at her clothes on the counter, wondering if she should change before leaving. It would certainly look odd for her to be walking down the street in the swimsuit cover and sandals in such an upscale neighborhood. Then she thought about any of the Lothbroks finding her trying to leave and pushed the potential oddity of her attire from her mind. It appeared there was a gas station nearby when she found the bus stop, it would be simple to change there quickly. Somehow she could give the swimsuit and cover back to Torvi…. but not today. Right now, she needed to leave. 

 She tried to shove her clothes into her purse, only succeeding by making it look like an over-inflated balloon but it worked. Lastly, she reached to grab her phone off the kitchen counter but froze. Ivar bought it for her. Freydis' words came back to her about taking advantage of the things he bought for her. Bile burned the back of her throat at the idea. She promised herself she would not be one of those girls to him. Slowly, she retracted her hand, forming it into a fist by her side. Ivar could give the phone to Freydis or throw it in the trash for all she cared. Even with the feeling of her heart being ripped in two, she refused to take advantage of him or his money. She was a better person than that. Or so she hoped. 

 Worried someone would come in soon, she tossed her purse over her shoulder and swiftly headed towards the front door. She passed through the hallway she entered in, but the pictures and awards blurred before her eyes as the repressed tears threatened to make an appearance. Hastily, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand but knew it was ultimately futile. 

 "Kari?" 

 Her stride never faltered towards her escape, even after hearing Hvitserk call her name from what sounded like the porch. 

 "Kari? Where are you going?" His voice came from behind her, probably standing at the entrance of the hallway now. 

 "I have to go." Kari said, not bothering to turn around, unsure if he could even hear her. She could barely hear footsteps behind her over the sound of her sniffles and ragged breathing. It did not matter since she was close to her escape, just a couple more moments. Her hand touched the handle, just beginning to pull the door open when Hvitserk's hand appeared in her direct line of vision and slammed it closed. Although the sound was muffled, it echoed in her mind like a gunshot. 

 "What's going on?" Hvitserk stood directly behind her, his hand still firmly planted on the door as if to prevent her from even considering leaving without permission again. 

 "It's nothing." She murmured, staring down at her feet. 

 "I seriously doubt that if you are trying to sneak away while crying…. what happened?"

 "Nothing. I just…. I just want to go home."

 "Okay." He shifted to lean his shoulder against the door, ducking his head to try and catch her eyes. "Does this have to do with the yoga stuff?"

 "No. Just…. please, Hvitserk."

 "You need to tell me something. Look, I'll give you a ride, we can leave right now but you have to tell me what happened."

 She swallowed thickly, still refusing to look at him. It was taking all of her willpower to keep the tears at bay. At any moment she felt the tears would come forth with all the power of a hurricane, reducing her to a sniveling mess on the floor, nursing a broken heart. It was all her fault though. How could she have believed someone like Ivar Lothbrok would actually be interested in her for more than just a one-night stand. She was just a challenge for him, someone to pass the time. Then once she gave in, once they finally had sex, he would walk out of her life and back into Freydis' arms and bed…. where he apparently belonged. 

 "Kari?" Hvitserk softly prompted. 

 "It's…. I just have a better understanding now…. of where I stand…. of my purpose here."

 "Your purpose?"

 She sniffed, wiping her wet eyes once again before the tears fell. "I'm just a rebound girl….and that's alright. I get it. But I just want to go home now." 

 "Fuck. Freydis said that, didn't she?"

 "It doesn't matter. Can you please just take me to the bus stop, I can get home from there." She knew she was begging but she did not care anymore. 

 "Kari, give me that." He grabbed her purse from her and tossed it onto a wooden side table. His hands held hers in a manner that was comforting verse restraining. His thumbs rubbed along the back of her hands as he softly spoke. "Look at me, you know it's not like that."

 "It doesn't matter." She shook her head, even as her hands gripped his tighter, the feeling being the only thing keeping her from falling apart at the front door. "I shouldn't have let Gyda bring me here. I should have made her drop me off."

 "Kari…." He began but was interrupted. 

 "Hvitty?" Ivar's loud voice boomed from the kitchen. "You better not be trying to fuck Kari!"

 Kari flinched at the sound. The facade of strength she fought to maintain evaporated like smoke. The tears she had been trying so desperately to withhold slipped free, rolling down her cheeks like a cleansing rain.  

 "Over here!" Hvitserk called back, releasing her hands but not moving away. 

 Ivar's measured gait could be heard coming down the hallway like the footsteps of doom. 

 "What the fuck is going on? You disappear to find Kari and then…." His voice trailed off as he entered the foyer, piercing gaze zeroing in on her tear-stained face. What sense of jovial teasing transformed into enraged fury. When he spoke next, it came out in an animalistic growl that bespoke impending violence. "Who fucking hurt you?"

 "I'm fine." She mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. Her chin rested on her chest, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I just want to go home."

 "Freydis….and I'm betting Margrethe also said something to her." Hvitserk snitched, leaning fully against the door. He watched both Kari and his brother as if ready to intervene at a moment's notice. 

 Ivar snapped, stepping closer. "What did they say?"

 She was unsure who he directed his question to but she still shook her head, refusing to look at either brother. Hearing his wrath, it only made her heart ache more. All of this was a show, it had to be. Why would he truly care? The sound of his heavy gait coming closer brought a fresh wave of silent tears. 

 Moving to her other side, he cupped her cheek. When she resisted looking at him, he shifted his hand to grab the back of her neck, forcing her gaze to meet his. A tempest swirled in his icy blue eyes. "What. Did. They. Say?"

 "Why does it matter?" She questioned, bottom lip trembling as a sob rose from her chest. 

 "Because they hurt you."

 "But I'm no one. I don't matter." She shook her head, pressing a hand over her mouth to contain the cries bound to escape at any moment. "You're just going to get back together with Freydis when you get bored with me."

 His eyes widened as if she had sucker-punched him. His mouth dropped open for a moment before he collected himself, the maelstrom rippling under his skin on the verge of breaking free. "Did they say that?"

 "Freydis said…. she said you two were just taking a break….and I'm the rebound girl."

 "Fuck. Fuck!" Ivar stepped away, running his hands through his loose hair. In an instant, he grabbed the decorative bowl off the entrance table and threw it. The shattering against the wall reverberated in the foyer followed by Ivar's guttural shout. "FUCK!" 

 "Ivar." Hvitserk softly said, warily watching his younger brother. 

 "I'm going to kill her. Fuck! I can't believe she would fucking say that!" Ivar ran his hands through his hair again, looking on the verge of ripping the strands out. The ferocity in his eyes was unmatched as he glanced down the hallway, clearly wanting to go after his ex, then shifted back to Kari, who remained silent and unmoving. "What else did she say?" He barked at her. 

 "You're destined for each other." She confessed after a moment's hesitation. 

 Ivar stormed over to her, devouring the ground beneath his feet as he invaded her space. Standing before her, he cupped her face, eyes imploring her to believe him. "Freydis is a crazy, jealous bitch. She manipulates to get what she wants. Don't believe a word out of her fucking mouth. Fuck! Please, Kari, don't cry. I'm right here, kitten."

 His words seeped into her mind, slipping in through the cracks and delving deep into her soul. His words alone should not have reassured her like they did. Between his pleading eyes and his gentle touch, her few walls surrounding her heart crumbled, unable to fight him. She believed him, even before her mind fully recognized it. 

 She lightly placed her hands on his bare chest, one directly over his heart, feeling the rapid tempo under her fingers. "Promise?" She whispered wetly. "You're not just…. I’m not just a rebound girl?"

 Ivar groaned, pressing his forehead to Kari's. "I swear. I never thought that about you." 

 And she believed him again. The truth falling from his lips resounded in the very core of her being. It made no sense how she knew, but somehow, she did. 

 After a long second, Hvitserk pushed off the door from next to them. "I'm going to head back and keep an eye on them. Kari, if you still want a ride just text me, alright?" 

 "Thank you, Hvitty." She reached out and snagged his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. With a smile, he responded in kind before heading down the hallway towards the backyard. 

 Soon as Hvitserk started walking away, Ivar grabbed her hand and led her in the opposite direction. They hurried through a short hallway to arrive at a closed door. Impatiently, Ivar thrust the door open and pulled her into a room, slamming the door shut behind them. She had a brief moment to scan the new room and notice the two walls with floor to ceiling bookshelves packed full and the couple couches near a large window. 

 Before she could do anything, she shrieked as she found herself suddenly yanked back, her body colliding with the closed door. Immediately Ivar's mouth claimed hers in a hungry, feverish kiss. His body pinned her to the door, hands kneading her hips. It was all she could do to just breathe. Her hands clung to his broad shoulders, desperate to stay above the waves of passion-fueled desire that surged unchecked within her. 

 Ivar withdrew his mouth from hers, but only to place kisses over her cheeks, washing away her tears with his affections. "Don't listen to her. Her and I. We are through. I will never go back to her. She has been sniffing around but that ends tonight. I won't fucking let her talk to you again. I fucking swear it."

 "Ivar…." She whined, tilting her head. An open invitation which he took. 

 He swooped in, continuing to speak between leaving open-mouth kisses on her neck. "It's you. It's you I want. It's you I think about all the time. Fuck, kitten, you have no idea how much I want you. And seeing you do those yoga poses in that swimsuit…. fuck! You looked so goddamn sexy; I got a hard-on just watching." He grabbed her thigh, lifting it up and curling it behind him, pressing himself against her core. At the touch of his hardened length against her, she whimpered. "Do you feel that? That's for you, søte Kari."

 She could not help but roll her hips, grinding against his erection, body automatically seeking friction. 

 "Yes! Fuck." He growled against her neck. "Come here."

 She whined when he released her leg, letting it fall down to the floor. Her breathing was unsteady already, heart hammering away in her chest. A part of her knew she should stop this, open the door behind her and walk out to avoid the temptation. Yet when his hand latched onto hers once again, tugging her towards one of the couches, she followed willingly, unable to deny the sweet sin that was Ivar.

 He dropped onto the couch and settled her into his lap to straddle him. As she settled, he grabbed a handful of the cover over her and yanked it off, tossing it haphazardly onto the floor. Her first instinct was to cover her chest, but as her arms moved to do that, Ivar guided them behind his head. His gaze drunk in the curves of her body, an unashamed starved look in his eyes that made her shudder as it further ignited the fire in her belly. 

 "Kattungen min." He whispered reverently. "Fucking hell, so gorgeous. No one else gets to touch you like I do. Got it? You're mine." He started lavishing her chest and neck with his mouth, alternating between his lips and tongue. 

 She knew she should feel more self-conscious straddling Ivar's lap in only the swimsuit that barely covered all of her assets; but it was as if his touch banished the thoughts away. Instead she felt beautiful and cherished. 

 He palmed one of her breasts and the moan that escaped her was pure wanton. Hands tangled in his long locks as her hips ground harder against his erection in response. His leg braces were only an afterthought that did not impede her actions. 

 "Ivar, please."

 "That's it. Fuck, you're so beautiful. I can't wait to fuck you senseless."

 Suddenly he shifted under her, his hand fumbling between them. Her mind barely took notice as he sucked the skin between her breasts, something that would definitely leave a mark. Next thing she knew, his cock was freed, standing at attention between them. 

 Before she could protest, he spoke up. "I know you're not ready." He slid it under her, pulling her hips back down. At the sensation of his cock rubbing her slit with only the thin barrier of the bikini bottom between them, she threw her head back with a whine. Desire roared through her like a freight train as his cock rubbed against her soaking core. 

 "You like that, kitten?"

 "Yes." She sighed out, head tilted back as she rolled her hips. 

 "Good, my turn." He reached behind her and promptly untied the straps of the bikini top behind her back. 

 "Ivar!" She tried to cover herself but he swatted her hands away. 

 "Trust me."

 Once she relented, he laid a hard kiss to her lips then tugged the top over her head, the band behind her neck without a tie. She desperately wanted to cover herself, now before him feeling on full display. But it was the look on his face that stilled her movements. 

 "Guder. Du er utsøkt. Faen. Den vakreste kvinnen." He murmured with adoration and awe dripping off each word. 

 "What did you say?"

 Instead of answering her, he lowered his face to her chest and captured one of her perky nipples in his mouth. His other hand moved to grab one of her ass cheeks, encouraging her to keep riding him. 

 All breath vanished from her lungs. All thoughts and insecurities fled under his touch. Her hands tangled in his hair, keeping his mouth on her. All she could feel was him. All she wanted to feel was him. Gasps and moans slipped from her as she allowed herself to be overtaken and drawn into an ocean of pleasure. 

 She could feel herself rising higher and higher, riding the wave. Her mind was becoming delirious from fire in her veins and the motion of her hips rocking over his exposed cock. 

 To her surprise, Ivar grabbed a handful of hair at the back of her neck. "That's it, beautiful. Fuck. Let's see what that bendy spine can do." Carefully, he pulled on her hair, not in a painful way but as if to guide her. Willingly submitting herself, she bent her back, following his lead. When her chest was parallel to the ceiling, he stopped pulling, keeping her suspended with her back arched. 

 Ivar groaned loudly, thrusting against her. She met his action, too absorbed in the bliss to care about decency. 

 "All the dirty, fucking things this makes me want to do to you." He licked a scalding line up her sternum, only to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples, making her mewl as she continued to move her hips faster. "Come for me."

 "Yes, yes." She chanted. "Ivar, please."

 "Keep begging, kitten. Let me know how much you want my cock."

 As her climax hit, the tightening coil in her core sprung loose, her mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Wave after wave rolled over her. She could feel Ivar grunt and thrust a few more times beneath her before retracing his cock and spurting onto her exposed stomach. After he released her hair, letting her rise back up to face him. Their eyes fixated on one another, chests heaving as they struggled for breath. 

 Gently, she reached out and touched his cheek, a shy smile on her face. Then, when he made no move to pull away, she leaned forward, uncaring of his cum slipping down her stomach, and drew him into a lazy, slow kiss. He responded, lips melding to hers in a way that was full of softness and contentment. After a moment, she felt him reach behind him for the blanket laying on the back of the couch and wipe her stomach off, all the while never abandoning their kiss. 

 Once she was clean, he dropped the blanket to the floor and somehow managed to keep their lips locked as he guided them to lay down on the couch, their bare chests pressed together and his arm under her head, legs tangled. 

 "Do you believe me now?" He eventually asked, leaning back but only far enough so the tips of their noses almost touched. 

 "Mmmm?"

 "That it's you I want. Freydis and anyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care."

 She bit her bottom lip and dropped her gaze. "I don't understand why."

 "What are you talking about?"

 "I mean…. Margrethe said I'm not your…. type."

 He snorted and muttered under his breath, "fucking bitch".

 "But she's right." Kari pressed onward, her hand running up and down his side as if to ground herself. "I mean, I could never compare to Freydis…. or Torvi or Gyda or any of them. They are all beautiful and….and in perfect shape. I'm not. My thighs and butt are too big and I'm maybe pretty but that's it."

 "You're right. You're not my usual type. But those girls, I'd fuck them and then never look their way again. You though, fuck, I can barely take my eyes off you when you're around. And these," he reached down and grabbed a handful of one of her ass cheeks, making her squeak. "I love them. And these thighs, fucking hell, kitten, I want you to suffocate me with them when I finally eat you out."

 She gasped, a bolt of electricity shooting through her at the image. 

 A devilish grin grew on his face, his hand stroking her ass cheek. "You like that idea? My tongue teasing your folds before slipping inside of you. Your thighs wrapped around my head as I feast on your pussy."

 "Ivar." She whined, unable to stop the sudden roll of her hips. 

 "Soon, sweet Kari." He chuckled darkly, ceasing her movement by melding their hips together. "And your tits, gods, they are perfect. I could stare at them all day."

 She giggled even as she flushed under his praise. "I'm sorry for doubting you. I guess, I'm still just surprised you'd…. well, that you want me."

 "You are mine. You're my woman." He stated resolutely, gazing directly into her eyes so she could see how serious he was. 

 "But we aren't dating…."

 "Doesn't fucking matter. You're mine. And one of these days you'll change your mind and stop playing this game of trying to keep me away."

 She sighed, wishing it would be that easy. Before he could continue with that argument, she changed the subject. "You know, I think we exceeded our kiss quota for the day."

 He snorted. "I didn't see you complaining earlier."

 "That's true. Do you think we should head back out?"

 "If I see Freydis or Margrethe right now…." His voice trailed off, but the fury from earlier lingered in the unspoken threat. 

 "I know. We don't have too. I'm okay right here." 

 A grateful smile on his lips, he kissed her quickly then rolled her onto her back and laid his head on her chest. They relaxed like that for several minutes in silence, her hand running through his hair, just enjoying the feeling of complacency and peace between them now after their fight. If you could even call it that. 

 Finally, she spoke up in a hushed tone, a random question coming to mind. "Do you ever get in the pool?"

 "No."

 "Oh." Was all she could say after his sharp, barbed answer. Clearly it was a subject that was not open for discussion. Her mind wandered, wondering what happened to cause such a response from him. An uncomfortable tension hung over them after his response. Something she was not sure if she should try and dissipate or ignore for now. 

 After a minute of continued silence, he kissed her chest, letting his lips linger there as if using the extra time to mentally prepare himself. Before she could tell him it was none of her business, he spoke. His tone was quiet and, in anyone else, almost shaky. 

 "I…. I used to try when I was younger. They'd put me on one of those stupid floating things and pull me around or someone would hold me. Then, when I was about seven…. Sigurd and I got in a big fight earlier that day. He claimed I broke one of his toys. Fucking asshole. I was sitting by the pool, this in our childhood home in Kattegat, I liked to watch things float on the water. Sigurd walked by me and….and pushed me over the edge."

 She gasped. "Oh Ivar…."

 "Ubbe jumped in and pulled my half-drown ass out." He nuzzled against her skin; his tone having lost the insecurity as he reassured her. "I'm alright, Kari."

 She drew his face up and gave him a long kiss, their mouth connecting with a deeper need and alleviation. "Remind me to thank Ubbe when I see him next."

 He rolled his eyes. "Don't. He's never let me forget the fact."

 "Still."

 They laid there for some more time, wrapped up in one another and content in the peaceful stillness. She could not help but think about the memory Ivar shared with her. How far back did that resentment go between the brothers? Had there ever been a time where they cared for one another? And how bad was the animosity between them if one was willing to kill the other, even as children? If her arms tightened around him, neither one mentioned it as they continued to lay there. 

 A loud knock on the door followed by a yell through the door of "are you two done yet?" disturbed their peace. 

 "Hvits, fuck off!" Ivar called back, burrowing his face between her breasts. 

 "Do you have clothes on at least?!"

 "I do!" 

 Kari swatted the back of Ivar's head at his admission. Leaning up slightly, he gave her a cheeky wink before laying his head back down. 

 "Well cover up, I'm coming in!" Hvitserk yelled through the door. 

 "Ivar, get up." Kari softly said, a panic setting in at the brother coming in and seeing them in this suggestive position and her topless. 

 "No." He mumbled. 

 Before she could shove him off, he snatched the throw blanket off the floor and threw it over his head to cover her chest. As she began to protest, the door cautiously opened. In an instant, she tried to spread out the blanket over them as best as she could, keeping the blanket over her chest and spread it somewhat over their torsos. Although how much good it did was questionable. She peered over to see Hvitserk standing in the doorway with an amused look before shaking his head and stepping in, closing the door behind him. 

 "What the fuck do you want?" Ivar asked, muffled by the blanket and his face still pressed against her skin. 

 Kari raised her gaze to the ceiling for a moment then mouthed to Hvitserk, "I'm sorry."

 Hvitserk winked at her before answering. "Bjorn and Torvi want everyone together before they leave. Sounds like they have an announcement or something."

 "Are the bitches still here?"

 "Yeah." Hvitserk sighed. 

 "Then no."

 "I'll go." Kari softly said. "It must be important."

 "No, you aren't." Ivar nipped at the side of her breast, making her squirm. 

 "Well everyone is waiting on you two." Hvitserk pointed out as he watched, clearly entertained if his broad grin said anything. 

 "I'm coming."

 Ivar pulled the blanket back slightly to stare up at her. "Why the fuck do you want to see them?"

 "Is it….is it terrible I want to show Frey…. her that I'm still here. That no matter what they said, that I'm not going anywhere."

 A positively, feral grin spread over his face. He swooped in and pressed a devastating kiss to her mouth, not letting up until she thought she would suffocate from the intensity of it. "Let's go." 

 He started to rise up but when she squeaked and tried to clutch the blanket to her, he froze. 

 "Hvits, leave."

 "You sure I can't stay?" His smirk grew as he caught Kari's eye and watched her flush deepen. 

 "GO!" Ivar bellowed, glaring at his older brother. 

 "Fine. I'll wait out here for you. If you're not out in three minutes, I'm coming back in." Hvitserk stepped outside and closed the door behind him. 

 Ivar carefully slid off of her, standing up beside the couch, the blanket in hand. His predatory, blue eyes remained trained on her form, raking over her body like a sweet he wanted to devour completely. A familiar warmth awakened in her core, even as she shyly glanced away, covering her naked breasts with her hands. 

 "Fuck, you're gorgeous. On second thought, I think we should stay. I need another taste of you and to hear you moaning my name for everyone to fucking hear."

 She squealed, quickly skirting away from him before he could pounce on her. "Ivar, no!" Yet, miraculously, he managed to snag an arm around her waist and drag her back against his chest. 

 "Should we make an announcement of our own?" He asked, running his nose along the shell of her ear, chuckling under his breath when she shivered against him.

 "What do you mean?"

 "That you're my girlfriend. That this just-friends is shit."

 "I…." She balked, eyes wide and heart beating a painful staccato in her chest. “We…. we can't."

 "Why the fuck not?" He grasped her breasts, rolling her peaked nipples between his fingers. 

 She practically swallowed her tongue, biting back the moan lodged in her throat. When she was positive she could control her voice, she replied. "We've talked about this. I'm just…. I’m not ready."

 "But you'll practically let me fuck you?"

 At his harsh snap, she tried to push out of his embrace, unwilling to have this conversation in their current predicament or maybe have the conversation at all. The innate desire to flee rose up in her but she tried to force it down as she squirmed in his arms. He held her firm, not giving up an inch, her body flush against his own. 

 "Ivar!" 

 "What aren't you telling me?" 

 She hated both herself and him in the moment as she ceased her escape attempts. She hated him for continuously pushing her, for ignoring her words and trying to force her where he wanted her to be. Even more though, she hated herself. If she had kept away from him, however unlikely that was, if she did not have to hide, then none of this would matter. If she could be honest, truly honest, he would most likely reject her. And that was why she hated herself most. Because she was selfish and wanted his attention and affection, even knowing if he knew who she truly was, he would walk away. 

 Carefully, she turned her head to meet his stormy eyes. "I promise one day I will. I just…. can we please just enjoy this? What we have? I just need…. time."

 He stared down at her for a long time. She wondered what he read in her face when he finally gave a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'm telling people you are my girlfriend though."

 "You're unbelievable."

 "I think you like that about me." He matched her smile with his own before letting her go.  

 She quickly found her bikini top, noticing Ivar not-so-subtly adjusting his sweatpants. She slipped it over her head but when she went to tie the straps, a pair of calloused hands covered hers. Without a word, he tied it behind her back. Once done, his hand slowly prowled down her back to lightly smack her ass. 

 "Hey!" She whipped around, only to see a Cheshire grin on his face. 

 "That's my sexy ass."

 "Oh my god. Unbelievable." She muttered to herself as she snatched up the cover and pulled it over. She looked down at the blanket piled on the floor. 

 "Leave it. I'll deal with it later." He took her hand and walked with her towards the door. When they opened it, a still-shirtless Hvitserk stood leaning against the wall across from them. 

 "Took you two long enough. Damn. Almost came in and threw Kari over my shoulder to get you out." 

 Ivar spat something out in their language that made Hvitserk roll his eyes. Before they could move further down the hallway, Hvitserk reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, freezing her in place.  

 "Hey, whatever they said. Just try to ignore it. We all want you here. Hell, all of us would kick them to the damn curb if Ubbe would let us. But Ubbe and Bjorn have already approved of you."

 Ivar scoffed but Hvitserk kept his gaze on hers, letting her know he was serious. 

 "Just know, we're on your side."

 "Thank you, Hvitty." She squeezed his hand, warmth blooming in her chest at his words.  

 "Either one of them tries to talk to her, I'll strangle them." Ivar growled, starting down the hallway, towing Kari behind him. 

 "You can't kill them, Ivar. Mother said murder is wrong."

 Ivar laughed, looking over his shoulder at his brother. "Mother still loves me."

 "Yeah, yeah, we all know you're her favorite."

 "Can you blame her? Look at me. I'm far superior and more interesting than the rest of you."

 "Keep telling yourself that."

 Kari could not help but smile at their teasing, a mock argument that sounded like it had been executed many times before until now it was said out of fondness and mock sibling rivalry. 

 The three walked back outside through the glassed-in porch. On the way, she noticed her purse back next to Gyda's bag and wondered if Hvitserk moved it there for her. Outside, everyone else sat on chairs or lounge chairs that were grouped in a haphazard circle, obviously waiting for the remainder of the group to join.  

 "What took you so long? Thought we'd have to send a search party to find you." Bjorn called out as the three approached. 

 "I got 'em. The library reeks of sex though." Hvitserk said, dodging Kari's swing. 

 Ivar guided her back to the lounge chair they had been sitting in earlier, tucking her into his side with a hand laying possessively on her hip. Hvitserk sat on her other side instead of pulling a new chair over. She tried to ignore Margrethe and Freydis who sat across from them, keeping her eyes trained on her lap, fiddling with the hem of her cover.  

 "Ok, now that we're finally all here." Bjorn said, standing up with Asa in his arms. "We just wanted to tell our family the good news in person."

 "Torvi is pregnant!" Gyda blurted, staring at her sister-in-law in shock. 

 "Fuck! Gyda!" Bjorn groaned. 

 "Daddy said a bad word." Hali looked over at his mother from his spot next to Sigurd. 

 "Yes, he did, thank you, Hali." Torvi replied smiling then addressed the group. "I'm about two months along. So right now, we are only telling family, so please don't share this with anyone else yet."

 "Wow! A third! Congrats!" Ubbe started, others immediately echoing their own congratulations and well-wishes. 

 Kari jumped up and moved to give Torvi a hug after Gyda. "I know we haven't known each other long but I'm so excited for you. You're an amazing mother."

 "Thank you, Kari. Maybe your own time will come soon." She shooting her eyes over to Ivar for a second then meeting Kari's again. 

 "Oh, I don't know." She blushed at the thought. After another brief hug, Kari returned to her seat. 

 "How old are you?" Hvitserk asked suddenly. 

 "Um, I turned twenty-five this summer."

 "Ha! Still the baby of the group." Sigurd laughed, pointing his beer bottle at Ivar.  

 "Hey, nothing is wrong with an older woman. We're in our sexual prime." Gyda defended. 

 "She's not that much older." Ivar retorted, his hand skimming up and down Kari's thigh. "Just a year."

 "And a few months. You're turning twenty-four after the new year." Ubbe helpfully added with a grin. 

 "Fuck off." 

 "Mommy, Uncle Ivar said a bad word now."

 "Yes, he did, Hali. I think it's time for us to go. Say goodbye to everyone." Torvi said. After a round of goodbyes and hugs to all the uncles and aunt, the small family headed back through the house to head to their own home.

 "Did you know Ivar is younger than you?" Hvitserk asked conspiringly, once conversation started around them again. 

 She tilted her head as she looked at him, slowly answering his question. “Yeah…. we talked about this a while ago."

 "Good. Do you want kids?"

 "Hvits, what is this?" Ivar butted in. 

 "Just testing the waters to see how she feels about having my babies. You know they'd be beautiful." Hvitserk chuckled when Ivar glared at him. 

 "Be nice you two or I'm moving." Kari chided. 

 "Yes, mom." Hvitserk said, sneaking a kiss to her cheek before jumping away. He turned around and pointed at her as he walked backwards. "One day you'll have my babies!" 

 She laughed, shaking her head. She could practically feel the smoke coming from Ivar's ears. Before he could burst a vein, she leaned closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder. "He knows I'm yours."

 "He fucking better or I'll beat his ass to remind him." Ivar murmured, nuzzling her temple. 

 She relaxed against him, looking around the backyard. Hvitserk and Ubbe had started some kind of wrestling competition in the pool, both looking like they were trying to drown each other. Gyda and Ivar called insults from their seats. Sigurd was texting on his phone but occasionally looking up and making a comment. At one point he caught her eye and gave her a brief nod, which she smiled back, hoping any animosity between the two of them from her earlier comment was gone. She purposefully ignored the whispering between Margrethe and Freydis, taking a note from Ivar's book and acting as if they did not exist. 

 Looking at the Lothbrok family around her, she smiled at the group, still amazed she found herself in their midst and how welcoming most of them were. For almost two years she had been alone in a new country, thinking that was what she wanted. Now though, she wondered if she had just been missing a group that accepted her without question. 

 She peered up at Ivar, heart swelling with gratitude and affection. Without second guessing herself, she kissed his cheek and leaned back against his shoulder. He hummed, placing his own kiss to the top of her head. 

 She wondered if she should just give up fighting this, whatever this was between them. Maybe it would work out. Maybe everything would not fall apart as soon as the truth fell from her lips. Maybe he could accept her past and who she was. 

 Silently, she shook the thoughts away. It was still too soon to tell and if she was honest, she did not want to lose this. 

 Or lose him. 

[remakethestars]

RAVENCLAW 💙🦅🤎

Headcanons.

❝Even in the blackness, light can be found. My enemy can be outsmarted.❞

— Alex Hirsch, Journal 3

This is my house, y'all; buckle up!

Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, & Slytherin. Headcanon masterlist.

The door'll let you in for witty responses.

We prop it open during exam season, when everyone's coming back from dinner, on party nights, & when no one can solve the riddle.

Questions become more difficult to answer after curfew.

Everyone waits outside & pretends not to know first night until the first-years figure it out.

Today's riddle & answer posted on the back of the door every morning; check before you leave just in case.

Sometimes you find the prefects debating over what the answer is; no one leaves the common room until someone's figured it out, so sometimes, the entirety of Ravenclaw is late to breakfast.

Again, if we absolutely can’t, we’ll prop it open.

If the door’s propped open and you remove the prop, we’ll use the guillotine on you.

Everyone has at least one hill to die on.

There's a podium by the fireplace with a record book on it of all the books in Ravenclaw's library that you can ask for help finding books from (pages flip in their own). 

If you’re in a reading slump, describe what you're looking for; we've probably got it!

If you don't like writing & highlighting in the books, it'll disappear while you have it, but everyone's free to mark in them. 

So good at reading their own messy notes and the notes their friends wrote they can read a doctor's handwriting.

And there are notes everywhere. As organized as some Raveclaws wish they could be, you can't make notebooks & journals as organized as Google Doc & Word documents. Unless, ya know … someone made a spell for that — hold on, I gotta write that down!

Professors find notes — ideas for spells & potions — on the back of homework & tests. More knowledgeable teachers will add their ideas or advice before handing it back.

Everyone leaves a copy of their favorite book with annotations before they leave seventh year. 

There's a coffee/tea cart in the common room. 

Hallways to the dorms are covered in graffiti from students long passed.

Dorms branch off based on your year. 

Girls can walk into the boy's dorms & vice versa. 

All rooms are extended for more space.

Beds are built into the wall like window seats & have bookshelves where the head and footboards should be. 

Dark blue curtains can be drawn shut if you're feeling introverted. 

Trunks go under the bed, so they're kinda high off the ground.

Cast an extension charm if you’re claustrophobic.

At the end of every year, everyone congregates in the common room, someone casts glisseo on the stairs to Ravenclaw tower, & everyone slides their trunks down (it's called "the trunk shoving").

No one gives a single sh¡t about house points.

Ravenclaw’s are always blowing something up & losing points.

Dramatic about stubbing their toe, but super casual about ending up in the hospital wing because they "wanted to test a hypothesis."

If you have a question or don't understand something, ask it loudly in the common room; someone will undoubtedly answer or direct you to another who can.

Just don't use bad grammar, or sixteen people will correct you in unison. 😅

Learn (a) new language(s) in the common room 20:00–21:00 Mon.–Fri.

Tutoring sessions are in the common room at 21:00–22:00 Mon.–Fri. Or ask for private lessons to work around your schedule.

If a particular teacher's sh¡t, we host a class in the common room after dinner.

Also, there're just classes for random stuff: art, budgeting, codes & code-breaking, cooking, dancing, darning, fencing, ice skating (in the winter months), knot tying, lock picking, makeup, Morse code, muggle martial arts, sewing…

First years are all offered a class on note taking.

A lot of us do our homework on Friday night so we don't have to worry about it all weekend, so there're no party activities tonight, but you can play a muggle board game if you want.

Karaoke on Saturday nights.

Dungeons & Dragons on Sunday nights.

D&D’s swapped out for a play once a month; screw the theater ban! (For an explanation of Hogwarts’s theater ban, see Albus Dumbledore’s notes on “The Fountain of Fair Fortune” in The Tales of Beedle the Bard.)

Morning yoga in the common room — feel free to join; we'll teach you some poses.

Ask around; whatever you're looking for — info, candy, contraband — someone probably hands it out, sells it, can get it for you, and/or can tell you where to find it.

Pass around a spell that allows them to clean themselves. Who has time for showering?

And a potion that gives them the same feeling & energy as if they slept. Who has time for sleeping?

Yes, we're building a guillotine in the common room.

Please don't utilize it in the decapitation of any living person or thing (unless it's the Snape or Umbridge)!

Our next project is a carousel. With working lights & everything.

Yes, we're building a house of cards in the common room; please don't blow on it.

Be quiet until noon on the weekends or get hexed.

Thank Merlin they teach sign language in the common room every year & everyone knows enough to get by.

Parties are highly regulated.

People volunteer to walk people back to their dorms & put up protection charms so you don't get assaulted. Those people are vetted with Veritaserum first to confirm the authenticity of their intentions.

People often get into academic debates, which can get a bit loud; just silencio them & move on.

The entrances to the dorms are hidden behind moving bookshelves.

The Ravenclaw copy of Hogwarts: A History will tell you more than you realized you needed to know; there're enough notes in the margins to make a second book, including how to enter the kitchens, how to sneak out if the castle, how to find the Room of Requirement…

They've located more secret passages & rooms in Hogwarts using spells they created than the Marauders were aware of.

First-years are told how to put extension charms on their backpacks so they're not heavy — that's a crap-ton of stairs.

There's an incredibly thick book by a armchair near the fireplace that's full of testaments of Ravenclaw's alumni. "What's one thing you wish you'd known when you started Hogwarts?" First-years are encouraged to flip through it.

And taught a low-concentration spell for levitating books while laying down so your arms don't get tired (flick wand to turn page).

Common room's extended to fit all kinds of activities (and the bookshelves).

Some third-years built an aquaponic system on top of one of the window seats; take a cucumber, if you want, or stop to look at the fish.

Again, explosions are not uncommon. (Please don’t drop any explosives in the fish tank. As water isn’t as compressible as air, this will kill the fish.)

Everyone just kinda glances over to make sure you’re okay before going back to what they were doing.

There's always a record playing.

They host a hike through the Forbidden Forest once a week, because what even are rules?

If you hear an intelligent conversation taking place, feel free to sit down & listen or jump in!

The wind whistles against the windows all year round, but they've been charmed to keep water out.

Played The Floor is Lava before it was a meme.

There's a two-way mirror on the wall above the fireplace. There's a muggle television on the other side. No one's sure whose T.V. it is, but a lady comes in in the mornings in hair curlers & watches the news.

She puts in V.H.S. tapes of Disney movies at the start of term. Hypothesis says it's for the first years & this person's a half-blood or a muggle-born.

Sometimes, people work together to solve the Friday crossword in The Daily Prophet. It's the hardest all week.

Look at each other like they're the camera in The Office when someone says something stupid.

Oh, boy, if someone's found a really good mystery book… That sh¡t’s getting magically copied & passed around. We discuss theories at meals, pass notes in class, & set up a murder board in the common room.

Actually, Ravenclaw house has solved a number of murders in its free time.

Visit my Ravenclaw YouTube playlist & Pinterest board.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ These headcanons are what I consider to be canon in my fanfictions. They may be others’s headcanons I’ve subconsciously filed away in my noggin. If one’s yours and you want it removed or credited, please send me your post and let me know.

[theholycakehole]

Impulsive Decisions || Dream x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Dream x GN! Reader

Warnings: None! Well its my first Dream fic and it hasn’t really been edited so maybe that should be a warning lol but mostly just fluff :) Also use of irl names, idk how Dream feels about that so please let me know if I should change it! :)

A/N: Heyyyy... Long time so see! Um... so here’s a dream fic! I am done my first year of uni now so if yall wanna start up some requests I can try and do that again? Probably will mostly be along the lines of the Dream SMP or maybe even other streamers since that’s what I’ve been interested in lately. My requests have never really closed, I’ve just been inactive, but I’ll try to start writing again!

It was a long night of shifting between games with friends and discord conversations. I combed my hair back as my eyes grew tired as the screen shifted to a victory for the imposters. I sighed leaning back in my chair seconds before I got the last kill of the game, earning Karl and me the win.

“Wow…” Rae spoke up as everyone began to unmute.

“S/N??” Sykkuno piped up from his side of the call. I let out a little tired laugh as I returned to the main lobby.

“I think that was LG for me guys,” I spoke out hearing a few pleas against it. “Sorry, I’ve been streaming for like…” I trailed off checking the time, 12:30, “6 hours now? I’m ready for bed, honestly.”

“I should probably do the same,” Dream spoke up, him being in the same timezone as me.

“You guys really should leave the east coast, PST is where it’s at.” Corpse mumbled as I opened back up my stream chat.

“I know, I know, but I can’t get myself to leave my hometown.” I laughed out as I skimmed over my chat reading the goodnight wishes and the thanks for streaming messages.

“Well, I live on the east coast and I’m fine to stay up.” Karl joked as I let out a yawn.

“Does anyone have any fills?” Toast asked. “If not we might have to end it here.”

“Toast aren’t you in the same time zone as me right now?” I asked out. “Go to bed.”

“I don’t need sleep, S/N.” He commented back.

“Ok fair.” I chuckled as my little character ran around the lobby before going to the computer and messing around with the skins and hats.

“Sorry guys, I think all my fills are done for the night.” Corpse explained to the lobby.

“Its no worries we can always play another time!” Rae reassured everyone. “Well, goodnight everyone!”

“Goodnight!” Everyone chimed before signing out of the call.

I muted myself and ended my stream, forgetting to leave the call. I thanked the donos and read chat, making tired comments. I answered a few questions I managed to catch in the chat before ending the stream. As I was about to leave discord I saw that Dream’s little icon was still in the call with me.

“Lurking much?” I joked as I unmuted my mic.

“I thought you were going to bed?” He remarked with a small laugh.

“Eventually, I just couldn’t use my brain anymore after that last game.”

“I don’t blame you, you played well, y/n.” Using my real name rather than my stream name clarified that he wasn’t streaming either. “If you’re not too tired, we can stay on the call if you want?”

“I’m down, honestly, I’m just winding down before bed.” I mentioned as I checked my phone, opening a few social media apps to catch up on what I missed since starting my stream.

“So, y/n when do you plan on visiting? Sap and I are still waiting for you to come down.” He questioned, causing me to look up from my phone, closing it before setting the device back down on my desk. His camera obviously was not on but I found my attention on his discord profile picture.

“Soon, Clay.” I laughed leaning back in my chair and tucking my legs up to my chest.

“You said that last time.” He laughed a little more tired this time.

“Flights can be expensive, especially so last minute.” I made an excuse as I looked over to my second monitor and found myself googling flights.

“I literally told you I’ll pay for your flight to Florida, y/n.” He teased as I hummed in response, my attention mostly on the travel website I was looking at.

“I’m a big girl Dreamwastaken, I can pay for my own flight.” I chuckled before closing the website.

“Y/n your classes are done now, you have all the time in the world, leave Canada and come visit, please?” I smiled at his question before letting out a yawn.

“Fuck it.”

“Wait really?” Clay piped up, shocked and excitement evident in his voice.

“You made a really convincing argument. When do you want me to visit?” I asked before re-opening the tab and looking at prices.

“Right now.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

“Thats not happening Clay.” I laughed before finding a date and hovering over the purchase button. “How about the weekend? It gives me time to pack and get some things sorted.”

“Yes! Perfect! This is so exciting y/n!” He smiled, his voice raising a little bit which caused me to laugh. We sorted out the details and eventually booked the tickets and talked about how excited we were for me to come to Florida.

I’ve known Dream for a couple of years now, mostly through streaming with friends. Obviously, I knew of him before because of the Dream SMP and how popular it got. But through the years we have grown close, this even confused fans. Shipping was natural and happened quite frequently, which we ignored in the beginning, but as time passed feelings began to grow. We never talked about it but the flirting and the comments we’d share both on stream and off-stream just felt so right.

We were both faceless content creators, and being this close was quite strange as we have never met or let alone seen each other in person. As I packed my clothes a couple of days later I felt the nerves settle in. I shook off the panic of what if he doesn’t like me or think I’m attractive enough. But it was hard to shake.

I found myself jittery as the plane began to descend. I peered out the window looking at the ground as it grew closer and closer. The nerves grew more and more intense as I knew Dream was the closest he’s been to me since we first met. I felt myself smiling through the panic as I reached to grab my backpack under the seat in front of me.

When we finally were able to disembark the plane I quickly texted Clay that I was here and told him that I was wearing a f/c hoodie so they could find me. I tried to find the baggage claim as I followed the people who were on the same flight as me. My phone buzzed in my pocket telling me that Clay responded.

‘Sap and I just pulled in, see you soon!’

I smiled at his text message and the nerves went crazy, but a huge smile was on my face at the same time. I opened Twitter and quickly started a new tweet to show my audience that I was on, in fact, a last-minute trip. I attached a picture I snuck as I disembarked the plane and made a quick caption before posting and pocketing my phone.

My phone began to buzz from notifications as I plugged in my earbuds and played my music while I tried to locate myself through the airport. As I finally found the baggage claim I stood by one of the conveyor belts and scanned over the luggage trying to find my own. A couple of minutes passed before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I quickly turned around, pulling out my earbuds to see the face of one of my streamer friends.

“Y/n?”

“Sapnap!” I smiled before pulling him in for a hug.

“Hey, how was the flight?” He asked as we pulled apart and stood waiting for my luggage.

“Long enough, I’m just excited I’m here now.” I smiled as I pocketed my phone after wrapping the wires from my earbuds around it.

“Trust me, so are we.” He smiled in return. I saw my suitcase and quickly went to grab it, Sapnap helping me as well. “Clay is in the car, we were struggling to find a parking spot so he pulled up and is waiting for us.” He informed me as he took my suitcase and helped me wheel it out. “He’s nervous.” He mentioned as we grew closer to the doors.

“Trust me, so am I. Other than people in my everyday life, you two are the first to see me in person, or even my face.” I said as I fidgetted with the strings of my hoodie.

“You’re in good hands, y/n, try not to worry.” He smiled softly at me.

We exited through the doors to see a vehicle parked up to the curb. I felt the nerves build up in my stomach as a head of ashy blonde hair exit the car door. A smile found its way onto my face as my eyes lit up. As the man walked around the car he stopped in his tracks and replicated the same, bright smile, green eyes lighting up. I stopped everything and bolted forward pulling Clay into a tight hug.

“You’re finally here.” He muttered into my h/c hair, pulling me in tighter.

“I’m finally here.” I smiled into his green sweatshirt, feeling at ease.

[kaibacorpintern]

the wound

word count: ~2500

summary: kaiba has some pointed thoughts about yuugi’s recent cooking injury. platonic rivalshipping. post-DSOD

a/n: a woman has too many unfinished one-shots in her google drive so i’m making time to finish them instead of overthinking them (and never finishing them.) yes this is about cooking and yuugi and kaiba and depression. yes i have already written about this. whatever man. enjoy.

++++

Same time as usual. Two in the afternoon, on Saturdays. Same place as usual. The picnic table under the massive oak in the park, two blocks away from the Kame Game Shop and twenty minutes by subway from the station under the Kaiba Corp tower. Seto took the subway mostly out of scientific interest, taking a professional curiosity in the world Atem had wanted to live in, and because Atem had told him to enjoy it. What had he seen here, in the faded orange seats and bright pastel advertisements and the quiet scattering of human-not-Puzzle bodies? What had he felt, as the subway swayed around the curve in the tunnel, unseen in the darkness and known only by its momentum, making everyone sway with it? Hands curled around handrails and books. Fingers on phones. The train burst into daylight. The side of that girl’s head against the glass, watching Domino slide by with an equally glassy look in her eyes. Two layers between her and the city. Missing someone? Or just bored of life? 

He slunk off the subway, unnoticed and unknown, in an immaculate white hoodie and aviators, stainless steel water bottle dangling from one hand. Yuugi was waiting for him at the park entrance, as usual, wearing some kind of fashionable belted dark purple romper, with the usual tote bag full of games hanging from one hand. On the other hand, something unusual: his fingers stuck out from a half-formed mitten of gauze, giving his slender hand a clumsy, snub-nosed silhouette. He was having trouble holding his iced tea, thumb and fingers alligator-clamped around the lid. Someone had drawn a pair of flowers in pink marker across the back of the mitten, a bumper sticker of cheerful admonition: 🌺 BE CAREFUL! 🌺 Not Yuugi’s handwriting. 

“Hey,” Yuugi said. “How’re you doing? You sleeping better?”

Seto pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, over his bangs, crown-like. 

“On and off,” he said, which was true. His nights were now vast, tossing oceans of insomnia between shores of just good-enough sleep. Last night he’d simply given up trying to swim and instead, for the first time in years, read a book for amusement instead of education. Some sci-fi novel Yuugi had mentioned and Seto bought on a lark from the bookstore in the subway station. Most of his amusement came from correcting the bad science in the margins, until he woke up at dawn with his glasses bent and his bed linens blotted like calico cats with black ink. “What happened to your hand?”

“Oh, this?” Yuugi said, lifting his mitten-hand. “So, I was making a ceviche yesterday…”

He told the story as they walked through the park to the oak tree: the protagonist was a ripe avocado, its tough, disingenuous alligator hide concealing a soft, buttery-green flesh. The arc of the conflict: avocado against knife, a natural antagonist. The climax: the knife, ignorant of its own bluntness and made arrogant by the shine of its own steel, slid off its trajectory like a failing rocket and plunged at speed through plant skin and plant flesh straight into human skin and human flesh. The resolution: two identical cuts, a half-opened avocado and a half-opened hand. Man versus fruit. 

"There was so much blood Otogi almost fainted," Yuugi said, thumping the tote bag onto the wooden table and straddling the bench sideways. "So we went to the ER and they stitched me up, and then when we got back home I finished making the ceviche. What game? You pick."

"Hive," Seto said. He couldn’t stop looking at his bandaged hand. It drew his attention like a glitch on a screen, an inescapable aberration. “Does it bother you?”

“I mean, it hurts, but whatever, you know?” Yuugi said, digging into his tote bag for the drawstring bag of wooden tokens. He spilled them onto the table in a clattering cascade of wood against wood. They rapidly sorted them out. “It’s not my first cooking accident.”

Seto raised his eyebrows. It was a testament to the amount of time they’d been spending together lately - every Saturday afternoon for a handful of hours, until he made some excuse to leave, and Yuugi accepted it not because he was gullible but because he knew Seto had a battery and it ran low - that he didn’t even need to ask a question, and Yuugi simply provided an answer, with examples.

“So, here, I was frying onion rings for Jounouchi, and I splattered hot oil all over my arm,” Yuugi said, lifting his hand and pointing out a haphazard constellation of white scars over his forearm. “Then here - I was baking cookies for Shizuka’s birthday and touched the tray fresh out of the oven with my bare hand, like a moron, I dueled Jounouchi after and drawing my cards was like, ow - ” he waggled his fingertips - “and this one is another burn - ” a long white ink-stroke across his wrist - “from when I was making ramen for Anzu, ‘cause she was home from New York. And this one - ”

More interesting than how and what were who. This burn for Honda’s birthday barbecue, that cut for Otogi’s game night. A violent kiss between blade and fingers behind a frothy veil of soapy water, cleaning up after a movie night. Another spray of oil splatters, frying tempura for his mother. A lot of meals for her, his grandfather, Jounouchi. Every scar Yuugi showed him had a name attached, almost all of them below the elbows, as though collected there for easy reference. Seto frowned as Yuugi's fingers flew over this map of friendships and family, their routes landmarked by midnight breakfasts, lazy brunches, beautifully-wrapped bento boxes. Something about it tasted sour to him, his tongue held tight and bitten between his teeth. All of his own scars had only one name.

“You probably think I’m a klutz,” Yuugi said, with a sheepish smile, sliding one of the wooden tokens into place around their hive. 

“I told you to stop doing that,” Seto said briskly. “I’m not some dumpster for all your insecurities. You think you’re a klutz. You have no idea what I think.”

“I - ” Yuugi started, and huffed, with another smile, his chosen defense against causing offense. “Sorry, force of habit - ”

“Forget it. You don’t ever cook for yourself?”

“Duh. Of course I do. And I eat what I make with everyone else. It’s not like I make a pizza for all my friends and just sit there watching them while they eat it,” Yuugi said. “But I like cooking for people. I love... nourishing them. Knowing they’re not going to go to bed hungry or anything, and I can make something for them that makes them feel good.”

Seto tapped a wooden token on the table, under the guise of thinking about the game but really thinking about the kind of friends Yuugi made, and how he made them. Jounouchi. Honda. Atem. Himself.

“Did you ever cook for Atem?” he said, because he couldn’t help it, and braced against the soft look that came his way, with a default smile, a pre-emptive look, I'm fine. this didn’t hurt me smile.

“Yeah,” Yuugi said. “I did.”

Like what? Did he like it? Did he help cook or did he just watch? Just the two of you or with everyone else? Tell me. What did you nourish him with? What do you think he’s eating now? I ate pomegranates when I was there. Bread and honey and figs and garlic and beer. Nothing I ate makes me spend six months with the living and six months with the dead so instead I trade off day and night. Sometimes I leave for a few minutes, mid-afternoon, and I can hear my own name clattering through me as Mokuba calls me back. Seto kept all these comments to himself. There was only so greedy he could get with Yuugi’s grief; only so much he could share of his own.

He slid his wooden token into place around the honeycomb of pieces. Yuugi swiftly countered. Seto lapsed back into thought.

Yuugi took a quiet slurp of his iced tea, gave it a shake, rattling the ice until it settled, and took another, watching ducks paddle into the reeds at the edge of the pond and paddle out, a portrait of calm patience. It had taken him some time to get comfortable with Seto’s long silences. In concession, Seto made the effort to shorten them.

It was the kind of day where stepping into the shade made a difference. The air was darker and cooler under the trees and the flowering bushes that lined the park paths, while the rest of the earth baked in a cloudless dry heat. Seto made his move and pushed the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows.

“How about I cook for you sometime?” Yuugi said brightly, nudging another wooden token against the others with a single fingertip. 

Seto scowled, not at the suggestion but at the way his thoughts splintered apart, like two halves of a wooden log split by an axe. He had no doubt Yuugi would pull out the stops for him, slave and sweat for hours over some seventeen-course feast of modern art finger foods. Or maybe something cozy that made him feel like he was just nineteen instead of nineteen and exhausted. Whatever it was, Yuugi would put in the effort. But.

“No,” he said, and made sure to clarify this refusal before the clouds finished gathering over Yuugi’s face in a dejected overcast grey: “I don’t need one of your scars named after me.”

“I - what?” Yuugi said, flashing him an uneven, sideways smile, and Seto felt a flicker of irritation. Atem would’ve understood immediately. But, in fairness to Yuugi, he was being a little obtuse.

“You have a way of suffering for your friends,” he explained. “And I think part of you likes it.”

Yuugi straightened up in his seat, suddenly electric. 

“What the hell? It’s just cooking,” he said, with a stormy flash of lightning in his violet eyes. “You’re reading into this way too much. I cook because it’s fun and artistic and I like feeding people, not because I like… self-flagellating or something. Seriously, you can’t just spout off - ”

“You misunderstand me,” Seto countered. “There’s no reason to… hurt yourself on my behalf. If you want to eat together, I’d rather go to that kitschy little ice cream place down the block and get a fucking waffle cone. I don’t want you unable to duel because you burned your hand trying to pan-fry a steak for me.”

Yuugi opened his mouth, brows furrowing together… and scoffed, a surprisingly affectionate sound.  He rolled his eyes around the park, his gaze swinging across the sunlit grass, and looked back at Seto. 

“Okay. First of all, I've mastered the art of the pan-fried steak, and you should try it,” he said. “Second of all, what makes you think you’re not someone worth suffering for?”

Seto snorted, masking his inwards flinch. Mokuba already suffered enough, thank you. And for what? A ghost of a brother. A black hole, a perpetual collapsing. Things went in and they crossed the event horizon and the pressure squeezed them for eternity without ever letting them reach the center and nothing ever came back out, as much as it wanted to. The scientific term for such distortion of effort, stretched to an immeasurable length without breaking, was spaghettification. Even a black hole needs to eat! 

He slid one of his tokens back and forth with his fingertip, short, scraping jerks of wood against wood, thinking. 

“Direct attack on my life points,” he muttered.

“Yeah, you also got me pretty good,” Yuugi chuffed. “Let’s call it even. But relax. It’s just cooking. I love the process, and I love the result, and I love doing stuff for my friends. It’s not some big… metaphorical… symbol of something. This - " he lifted his mittened hand - "doesn't mean anything except I mishandled a knife. It’s not like… you and Duel Disks.”

But Seto also loved the process and the result and more than once he'd injured himself, machining parts or fiddling with wires that, like all wild living things, bit back in fear of his touch. He splayed his hand over the table, watching blood drip onto his work station, knowing he should get up, clean it, bandage it. But it was only two in the morning and there was work to do.

“The Duel Disk is a symbol of Kaiba Corp’s future,” he said, closing his hand into a fist. "I know what you've done for your friends. I’ve seen it. Doesn't that merit the same... mythology?"

Yuugi gave him a funny look, half skeptical, half knowing.

"That’s nice of you, thank you," he said, and an uncomfortable blush crawled up Seto’s neck. Sometimes he did understand. “Are you sure you don't want me to cook for you?”

Seto opened his mouth, closed it, folded his arms on the table. He felt like he was trying to explain the feeling of the color blue, or the arguments for why numbers do or don’t exist, or what it was like to dream. Well, you see, the last time I saw Atem, he told me - correction: the last time as in the most recent link in a chain of time, not the last time as in the end of the line, because he also told me we’d see each other again - he told me to enjoy this, and you know me, I never do what I’m told. And I can’t do what he told me to do because he was my friend, and if friendship is just getting caught in a great sticky web of small cuts and large cuts and burns and bruises and tears and suffering because they’re here and suffering because they’re not, then just go ahead and let the spider drink me up and dump what’s left of me in the dirt. I am so sick and tired of pain. Mine. Yours. Ours.

But he did enjoy these afternoons. He was enjoying the process of making this: he had more with Yuugi now than he ever had before. He reached across the table and took Yuugi’s bandaged hand between his own hands, running his thumb carefully over the inked warning. Yuugi's hand relaxed in his. Yes, Yuugi was wrong. It was the same as Duel Disks. In any act of creation there was pain, there was power, and there was glory. What difference was there between a hologram of a dragon and a steaming bowl of soup? Both nourished something. Both were an answer to hunger. Discovering an emptiness and filling it.

“Okay,” he said, releasing Yuugi’s hand. “Alright. Cook for me.”

“Yeah?!” Yuugi said, with rising excitement, beaming. “What should I make? What do you like?”

“Make me a steak,” Seto said, smiling. It felt good to see Yuugi smile. His hypothesis neatly undermined. See? It’s not all damage. “No. Surprise me.”

[beyoncesdragon]

title: catch up now? 

× pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Interviewer!Reader, old friends from highschool kinda stuff, abandoned but maybe rediscovered love on both sides. 

× summary: Three years are a long time. In three years, many things can and will change. But three years hadn’t been quite enough to change how two people feel about each other. 

× warnings: a little teeny bit angsty but it’s nothing, really. Mainly fluff, some flustered, overly eager Gguk and old memories coming up. 

× wordcount: 2k

× a/n: Not gonna lie, this might be one of my favourite pieces I've ever written. I really hope you enjoy this too! it’s somehow inspired by ‘Love Maze’ (BTS) and also ‘50 Proof’ (eaJ). Will probably not have a pt.2

main masterlist | bts masterlist

When he had read the name of the interview host - or hostess more like - Jungkook had already felt the familiar tingle in the pit of his stomach that he had thought had disappeared over the course of time. Yet, he wasn’t surprised that it was still there.

He had however not dared to hope that it could actually be you, there sure were other people called (Y/N) (Y/L/N), who has pursued their dream of becoming an interviewer, media person, whatnot. He didn’t even know if you had actually graduated uni and made it in the job, hence he hadn’t seen any of you in about four years of him debuting now. He had occasionally checked out your Instagram or Twitter, yet he shied away from following you on any social media platform. You weren’t really public about your work or personal life on both, you mainly retweeted stuff (he found out about your love for Bingsu and Makgeolli ice cream like that) and posted a few selfies or landscapes. He hoped that you had been able to pursue your dream of traveling around for a bit, in South Korea and outside of it. Though again, he didn’t know.

Jimin was seated right in front of him and Jungkook couldn’t help but nervously play with his hyungs honey blond dyed hair. Jimin chuckled surprised yet amused about his open display of nervousness and turned around slowly.

“Everything okay, Jungkook-ah? You seem more nervous than usually.” He remarked, making Namjoon look over to the maknae in wonder. “He does, right? I thought so too. Did something happen?” Jungkook only shook his head.

Not yet, he thought to himself.

The cameras around them started to blink all at once, the light has been set up correctly and the camera and sound team had settled down around them in the dark. Manager and publicists stood somewhere in the back, swallowed up by the dark. The only person that was missing still, was you. Or the person called (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Jungkook tried to tell himself.

Suddenly there was a soft laugh from somewhere off the scenes and his heart tripped over its own beat and finally, finally, you stepped into the light.

You looked pretty as ever, grown into your features entirely, like a lotus flower finally in full bloom. Jungkook had to swallow dry. The light coral red of your lip balm complimented your skin and the subtle almost invisible make up you wore, accentuated your already beautiful features even more. You hadn’t changed your hair much, but it was a bit longer and looked so soft in the bright light. His eyes almost subconsciously darted to your fingers, searching for evidence of a possible relationship. He was almost ashamed how quickly he ended up thinking about this, his own boldness making him even more flustered. (There was no formal looking ring on your ringfinger though, to his relief.)

There was a warm smile on your lips as you bowed deeply to them all, greeting them respectfully. The boys returned your greeting immediately and a bunch of annyeong haseyo-s sounded through the studio. Jungkook felt Namjoon look over at him again, a piercing gaze Jungkook knew he wouldn’t be able to withstand if he met it. So he just kept looking at everything but Namjoon...not that this was hard to do when you were right in front of him.

“Thank you so much for being here with us.” You said with a smile, looking at everyone with the same look of respect and polite distance. Like you were supposed to, at work, as a professional. Like you didn't know them personally. Everyone, including Jungkook.

He felt his heart drop to his stomach. Could it be that you...forgot about him? It couldn’t really be, right? How would you actually be able to, you really...in this moment your eyes crossed again and something flickered in your eyes, a facade crumbled for a few seconds only. It was an amused twinkle, like a cheeky wink and a minimal curl of your lips. 

Acknowledgement.

And Jungkook’s heart did multiple flips, breath caught in his throat and eyes widened.

You had started with the questions, keeping the conversation light and flowing. The vibe in the room was comfortable and built up on mutual respect - yet Jungkook felt as if he was sitting on red-hot needles. He wanted to talk to you, ask about how you had been, what you were doing (if you had a boyfriend) if you were happy, if you got a cat, how your mother’s little business was going (he’d anonymously purchased countless items, to support your family), if your favourite colour still was cyan blue and your still religiously bought Pajeon and Makgeolli on rainy days, if you ever spent a second of your day thinking of him (because he did).

Him, your somewhat ex-best friend from highschool, him, the one you spent hours talking to in the ungodly hours of the morning, him who you had lost your first kiss to (though lost wasn’t the right word: you gave it to him more like). Him who you had poked fun of when the first girl approached him in his Rookie days and he’d been flustered to no end.

Him, who had promised to you that he wouldn’t abandon your friendship and yet the two of you drifted apart anyways.

Not for the lack of trying on either side though. Jungkook’s schedule had just become even fuller, his nights shorter, training longer and fans more obsessive. And you had seen each other less often, greetings were shorter and late night talks turned into good night wishes over text quicker.

You on your part weren’t mad, a little disappointed maybe. Sad for sure, but not mad. After all, you had expected it to turn out like that. So had the rest of your little circle, Haneul, Hwang, Kyong and Myunghee. Whilst the five of you had supported Jungkook on his journey with all you’ve got, you all tried to overcome the obvious pain of him drifting off.

Some (mainly Hwan and Kyong) with working harder in school for example. You did that too, but sometimes you also partied a little harder, were awake at three AM a little more often, missed him a lot more. It hurt letting someone you love go.

Jungkook and you had always been a bit...closer. Why you didn’t know, how you couldn’t possibly explain. But you were and him rising into the heights and new dimensions of being an idol destroyed this almost completely. This strange world of fame, those walls of flashing cameras, the flow of expensive goods and seas of screaming people, that was his world. He was a star, figuratively and somewhat literally. He shone more radiant, higher, longer, prettier and too bright for an innocent, young love to coexist.

So you stayed behind, soon having lost his number due to him having to change it, his contact information soon had less to say than what you could find on the internet.

His new hair colour? Well, you could google it. Height? Current weight? Several fan sights knew the answer. Achievements? The internet again.

 It was strange, ridiculous to some extent. And it hurt. But you couldn’t blame him, so you never did.

⋄

When you had heard that you would be interviewing BTS last week you could help but feel scared. You hadn’t seen him face to face for three or so years, three years with no FaceTime, texting, three years of not seeing his bunny smile, smiled just for you.

And when you had seen him again, laid eyes on him for the first time in thirty-five months, you realised that nothing you ever felt for him had faded away. It was all the same again, your heart still jumped in your chest and your stomach still fluttered whenever he did as much as breathing. The only thing that had changed was his height and him having had the biggest glow up you had witnessed in your life, yours included – though this Jungkook would disagree vehemently. 

This Jungkook who got pulled out of his thoughts and memories almost violently, as you directed a first question at him only.

“I…” he started, gulping hardly, having forgotten the question already halfway.

“Sorry I can’t – how have you been?” you stopped shortly, stunned and a tad confused at first. You hadn’t expected him to be so bold. Or clumsy, for that matter. Yet you couldn’t help but giggle, and all the unsaid words and ignored truths between the two of you disappeared into smoke, taking all tension with them. Just like that.

“I’ve been fine, Gukie. Busy. Long-time no see, hm. How about you?” somewhere behind the cameras someone dropped a pen and there were multiple gasps being heard. The rest of the bangtan boys didn’t look any better; Jimin had his mouth open, Taehyung was looking back and forth between the two of you, Yoongi just froze, Jin and Hoseok had clasped their hands in front of their mouths and Namjoon just looked like someone poured a bucket of ice water over his head.

But Jungkook? Jungkook was smiling widely, his bunny smile, smiled just for you. 

“Busy too. Yes, very long time no see.” He replied sheepishly, a small laugh escaping his lips as he looked around the dead silent studio. “Why…how do you know each other?” Yoongi finally asked, eyes snapping back and forth between the two of you.

“Well I guess we have to tell them now. We know each other from back in Highschool. We were pretty close friends back then.” You explained softly, giving him a small smile. Jungkook nodded quickly. “My apologies. I didn’t wanted to completely ruin the interview but…I haven’t seen you in three or so years. Sorry.” You waved it off. “It’s okay, Jungkook. We will catch up later, alright?” Jungkook nodded, making the mistake of looking over to Namjoon, who looked like he finally understood everything. “Is that why you were so…never mind.” He ended in a mumble and Jungkook was glad he did.

⋄

The second the interview was officially finished and all the cameras shut off, Jungkook was on his feet and approaching you. He didn’t even care about formalities anymore as he just wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug.

The first thing he noticed was that he couldn’t nestle his face in the crook of your neck as easy as he had been able to do in high-school. The second thing was that you had changed your perfume into something more flowery and fresh. The third thing he noticed was how much he liked having you in his arms again, especially because he could now rest his head on top of yours.

The first thing you noticed was how broad your Kookie had become. Broad and tall and firm everywhere. The second thing you noticed was how he smelled more expensive, faintly musky but still very much like Jungkook. A scent you could pick out from a thousand, unique and everything you loved. The third thing you noticed was how familiar and how looked after you felt in his arms, how protected from every harm. You had missed this feeling.

“Aigoo, Junkookie!” Jin yelled from behind, causing you to chuckle embarrassed and trying to break the hug. But Jungkook simply tightened his arms around you, having no intentions of letting you go any time soon.

“Just ignore them. They’ll leave, eventually.” His voice was muffled by the skin on your neck, since he had now buried his face there, taking deep breaths.

“And we?” you asked with a small laugh, not moving either. “We stay. We catch up. Got a lot of that to do.” Sounded good enough to you…just that you had expected them to make a bee-line for the exit after the cameras cut due to their busy schedule.

“Catch up now?” you asked after a few seconds of him still having his arms around you, unmoving. The young man shook his head.

“No…not right now.” He took a deep breath, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling against your skin and the fabric of your blouse. 

“In five minutes. Let me just hold you for a little while, you…you have no idea how much I missed you.” 

If he only knew.

— ✩ thank u for reading ✩ —

[tobesolonely]

muse II

A/n: here is the second part of muse!! i had a lot of trouble w the direction i wanted to take this in so pleaseee be gentle with me🥺also big thank you to @harryysstyless​ and @froggystyles​ for all the help <3 

photographer oc x harry styles

please let me know your thoughts on miss aminah, iman, serena, and harry!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

It had been four days since your encounter with Harry in Malibu. You still haven't texted him.

It’s not like you were scared of him. He was a very nice guy, he proved that to you in the short amount of time you spent with him. Immediately. However, you had no idea how to start the conversation. Should you just text him and say, ‘hey!’? Has too much time passed? What if he wasn’t even interested in talking to you anymore? 

Since your beach day with Harry, your roommates would often find you with your phone clutched tightly in your hands as you contemplated for the thousandth time whether you should just suck it up and text him, or leave him be.

“Aminah, he gave you his number and not his manager’s for a reason,” Iman told you, starting to grow a bit annoyed with all your back and forth. “Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position?”

“Yeah,” Serena speaks up. “If you don’t text him then shit, give me his number and I will.”

“What would I even say?” Your mind is beginning to race as you think about all how texting him could go wrong. “I bet he has so many people that text him in the timespan of a day. He probably won’t even see it.”

“You’ll never know unless you do it, will you?” Iman asks. “You know what, Mina? Give me your phone.”

“Iman––”

“Give.”

The stern tone of Iman’s voice tells you she’s not playing around anymore, so you give her your phone (albeit, very reluctantly). She quickly unlocks it and you move closer to her from your position on the couch, straining your neck to see exactly what she was texting Harry. Her thumbs hover over the keyboard for all of two seconds before she quickly types something and presses the little blue up arrow, not giving you much of a chance to tell her not to. She wordlessly places your phone back in your hand.

You let out an audible sigh of relief when you said the only thing she said was, ‘Hey! It’s Aminah :)’ 

“What did she say?” Serena asks from her position across the room. “Was it bad?”

“She just said hey. I don’t know why I’m freaking out so much,” you confess, turning your phone face-down, setting it on the coffee table. “What if it is his manager and he just put it under his name to make it easier?”

“Why are you like this?” Iman asks. “Is Harry not allowed to think you’re cute? It sounds like you're self-sabotaging.” Serena nods in agreement.

“Where did you get him thinking I’m cute from?” You turn to face Iman fully. She lets out an obnoxious scoff.

“Dude, did you see how interested he was in you at the beach? The way he looked at you?”

“How about how he hung back and walked with you when Iman and I were walking way ahead? Are you kidding, Meens? I don’t believe you’re that oblivious.” Serena adds.

You feel your body heating up. “He was probably just interested because I approached him first. It could’ve been any one of us, yanno.”

Iman rolls her eyes. “He had the opportunity to have any one of us and he gave you his number! Stop acting like people aren’t allowed to find you pretty. You’re a gorgeous, talented Black woman and anyone, celebrity or not, would be lucky to have you!”

“One hundred percent, Aminah,” Serena agrees.

“You guys are just saying that because you’re my friends.”

“Yeah, and friends don’t lie to each other. I’m being so serious-–”

The chime of your text tone interrupts the tangent Iman was about to go off on. Your gaze quickly falls to your phone and then back up to your friends, eyes wide in shock.

“He answered so quickly!” Serena exclaims giddily. “Open it!”

“Hell no,” you say with a shake of your head. “I have my read receipts on, that’ll make me look so desperate if I open it right away!”

“Aminah, stop playing hard to get and just open it,” Serena insists, getting up from her seated position across the room. You quickly reach out and grab your phone off the coffee table before she can get to it first.

“Fine,” you mutter under your breath. “I’ll open it. But I’m going to be the one doing all the talking. Swear I’ll change my password if you guys keep thinking it’s okay to just grab my phone.” You wait for Serena and Iman to promise to leave your phone alone before taking a deep breath and flipping it face-up.

‘Hey Aminah, glad to hear from you.’

The typing bubble pops up immediately after opening the message and before you can exit out, another one comes through.

‘Have a chance to look over those pictures? I’d love to meet up for lunch or something and take a look at them with you.’

“He just asked me to lunch?”

“Give me your phone,” Iman demands, trying to reach for it. You hold it away from her, shaking your head.

“All he asked was if I wanted to meet up for lunch so he could look at the pictures. Like I said, being a photographer is my only advantage here,” you can tell your friends are fighting the urge to roll their eyes at you again.

“You’re gonna say yes, right?” Serena asks. “I mean, why would you say no?”

“There are so many reasons why I would say no,” you reply, staring back down at your screen. “What if it doesn’t go well?”

“Then at least you can say you tried and you won’t spend forever wondering, ‘What if?’” Iman quietly hums in agreement with Serena.

“I think you’ll regret it more if you don’t go than if you do,” Iman says, nodding her head at your phone. “We’re not gonna force you to meet up with him–– but I’m already picking out an outfit for you to wear in my head.”

“You know what? You guys are right,” you look down at your phone which was locked from inactivity. “I’m just gonna do it.” With slightly shaking hands, you text Harry back as your roommates watch over your shoulder:

‘That sounds great! Pick a time and a place and I’m there :)’

Not a lot of things made you nervous. You weren’t nervous when you packed up everything you owned and moved across the country to a city you’d never been to before. You weren’t nervous moving into an apartment with two girls you’d never met in your life. However, you felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest sitting in the restaurant waiting for Harry.

He’d suggested a place you’d never been to before— a Cuban/Mexican fusion place that he swore had the best fish tacos. You had to beg Iman to drive you to Malibu. She reluctantly took you after you reminded her that she was the reason you were going on this “date” in the first place. Out of fear of being late and keeping Harry waiting, you were painfully early. Your waiter had to have come up to the small table you were sat at in the corner at least three times to see if you were ready to order.

When Harry walked in, he quickly scanned the restaurant before his eyes landed on yours. He pushes his sunglasses atop his head as he makes his way over to you.

“Aminah,” he says cheerily once he’s almost to you. “Been here long? I didn’t mean to keep y’waitin’.” He glances down at his watch, a troubled expression on his face.

“Oh no, you’re fine,” you respond. “I’m just a little early. My roommate dropped me off early because she had to go home and get ready for work.”

“That was nice of her,” he smiles. “So, how about those pictures, hmm?”

You nod, reaching next to you to grab your laptop from its case. “I didn’t do much to them, honestly. Just messed around with the exposure a little bit. They’re nothing special.” You felt the need to create a disclaimer before showing Harry your work. He waves his hand, dismissing your insecurities.

“I have a feeling they came out amazing. You’re incredibly talented,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him and he immediately turns red, shifting his gaze down.

“How do you know I’m talented if I haven’t shown you anything yet?”

Harry’s quiet for a second before clearing his throat. “I may have… searched you up?”

You can’t help yourself. You throw your head back in the middle of the restaurant, letting out a loud laugh. “You’re serious? You searched me up?”

“Heyyyyy,” he drawls, running his fingers through his hair. “Are you laughin’ at me, Aminah?”

“I just find it a little funny that an actual superstar is Googling me,” you explain. You were trying to resist the urge to burst out laughing again because you could tell he was a little embarrassed.

“Yeah, come off it,” he mutters, a small smile filling his face. “Lemme see those pictures.”

You give Harry a coy smile before opening up your laptop and connecting it to your hotspot. You quickly navigate to the folder you created just for the pictures you took of Harry (with a few of Iman and Serena sprinkled in so he wouldn’t find it weird).

“Like I said, I’m sure you’ve seen better,” you mumble, double-clicking the folder. You turn to look at him as it enlarges on your screen, making the contents of it known. He licks his lip and leans back slightly, squinting his eyes.

“Can y’make that one a bit bigger?” he questions, pointing to a picture of himself. You open up a picture of Harry with his back facing the water, arms spread wide and head pointed up towards the sky. “Quite like how I look in this one.”

“Really?” you give him a quizzical look. “This one was one of my least favorites.”

“Oi,” Harry pouts and places his hand over his chest, feigning offense. “I don’t think I look that bad, Aminah.”

“That’s not what I meant!” you exclaim. Some people turn to look at the two of you and you throw your hand over your mouth, feeling your body heat up. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant the lighting was terrible.”

Harry lightly chuckles. “‘M messin’ with you, Aminah. I think it’s a lovely photo. Would probably look better if I wasn’t in it messin’ up your shot but we’re working with what we have, huh?”

“What do you mean? You look amazing,” you feel the need to reassure Harry even though you’re sure he’d be just fine if he didn’t hear it from you.

“Thank you, Aminah,” he clears his throat and you notice that the tip of his ears is starting to grow red again. “Did you order already? ‘M tellin’ you, those fish tacos are no joke.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Yeah, not a fan of seafood.”

“Really? You seemed excited when I mentioned the tacos when we were texting about where to go the other day! You said ‘sounds good’ with exclamation marks,” he informs you, making eye contact with the waiter who kept checking on you earlier and politely waving him over. As soon as he gets to the table you can tell he knows who Harry is and he looks at you, confusion on his face.

“Can we get two waters, please? Are you ready to order, Aminah?”

“Yeah, can I just get the grilled veggie tacos?” you ask the waiter politely, closing your menu. “Oh, and a side of the plantains too.” He nods and scribbles down your order, turning to Harry.

“For you, Mr. Styles?”

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle. “Uh, I usually go with your guys’ fish tacos–– they’re amazing, by the way…,” he trails off, looking down at the menu. “You know what? I’ll have what she’s havin’.”

The waiter grabs your menus and gives you both a polite smile, telling you he’d be right back with your drinks.

“Does that happen a lot?”

“What’s that?” Harry asks, eyes re-trained on your laptop.

“The ‘Mr. Styles’ thing?”

He looks away from the screen and at you, cracking a small smile. “Not as often as you’d think. Can you make that one bigger?” Harry points a ringed finger to another picture of him. This time he’s sitting on his brightly colored beach towel, leaning back on his hands to support his body weight.

You wordlessly comply, watching the photograph flood the screen as you double-click it. “I like this one the most I think.” You tell him.

“Why’s tha’? Is it cause my face isn’t in it?”

“Stop it!” you whisper-shout, groaning in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant! I just like how the ocean is out of focus but you’re in focus.”

“Jus’ givin’ you a hard time again, Aminah,” he says with a laugh. “I like this one a lot too.”

You continue like this for what has to be at least two hours, only stopping your photograph inspection briefly when your food comes. You and Harry don’t stop conversing once–– things just flowed so easily with him. You didn’t want the afternoon to end.

“I can pay for my own tacos,” you tell him with a laugh, digging in your bag for your wallet. “They weren’t that expensive.”

“Let me,” he insists, digging in his pocket for his wallet. “‘M the one that insisted we eat here and had ya come all the way from Downtown. It’s the least I can do.”

“Oh shit,” you say quietly, palming your forehead. “I totally forgot I was supposed to request an Uber to get back home. Do you know how much that would cost? I don’t usually use things like this.”

“An Uber?” Harry has a puzzled expression on his face. “I don’t even know if there’s anyone that would be willing to drive from Malibu to Downtown and if they are, it can’t be cheap…”

“I figured it wouldn’t be. It’s just kinda my only option because both of my roommates are at work, so––”

“I could take you home if you’d like?”

“I couldn’t ask you––”

“No, it’s not a problem. If I knew it would be such a pain for you to get home, I definitely would’ve suggested somethin’ closer to you,'' he gives you a dimpled grin. “No worries, Aminah. At least I’ll know for next time.” You smile, looking down at your lap.

“Next time?”

“I mean- well- I- yeah? I had a great time, that’s only if you want to, of course,” he rubs the back of his neck, a sheepish look on his face. “S’also fine if you never wanna see me again. Jus’ tell me to piss off.”

“Do I have the Mr. Styles tripping over his words?” you tease, flashing him a cheeky smile. Harry’s face immediately turns red again.

“Tease me all you want,” he mumbles, signing the receipt the waiter brings back to him. He digs in his wallet and tosses a couple of bills on the table for a tip and you’re not surprised to see they’re large ones. “Do y’wanna get out of here? Someone tipped off the paps.”

“How do you know?”

“That guy sittin’ across the room from us has been sneaking pictures for at least the last twenty minutes.” Harry is very calm when he says this, taking a sip of his water. Your eyes go wide.

“Twenty minutes? Dude, why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you feel yourself growing flustered as you put your laptop back in its case, shoving it in your tote bag.

“Because dude,” Harry mocks, humor lacing his voice. “I didn’t want you to freak out like you’re doin’ right now. It’s no big deal Aminah, I promise. Let’s just get goin’?” Harry’s tone is calm yet firm, but it helps you to relax. If he wasn’t worried about paparazzi seeing you with him, why should you be?

He instructs for you to follow him and to keep your head down, warning you there may be people waiting outside. He thanks the hostess on his way out, grabbing a small handful of mints in the process. Once out the doors you hear a few clicks and shutters of cameras but per Harry’s advice, you keep your head down. Your eyes are trained on his beat-up Vans are you focus on not tripping over your own feet and embarrassing yourself in front of him and a few paparazzi.

“Keep your head down until we’re outta here,” he mutters, opening the passenger door for you. Even when he slams the door shut, you can still hear cameras and feel eyes on you. He gets in the car a few seconds later and immediately starts it, wordlessly looking behind him to make sure it’s clear for him to back out. Once he’s out of the lot you hear him let out an audible sigh of relief. “All good for you to stretch your neck now.” You look up at him, rolling your neck.

“Was worried I was gonna get stuck like that,” you joke. “You handled that really well. I’m impressed.”

“Eh,” he sounds nonchalant. “Been doin’ this for ten years. ‘M used to it. Hats off to you though, Aminah. If I didn’t know any better I would say you’ve dealt with paparazzi before.” You know he’s joking but you still feel your head growing big from the compliment.

“I guess I just don’t wanna see pictures of me all over Twitter later today,” you respond, shrugging your shoulders. “That would be kinda weird.”

Harry lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Trust me, you’ll be seeing yourself later. Not the worst thing fo’ me, though. At least I’m getting photographed next to a beautiful woman.” You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and can see his deep dimples.

“You’re just being nice.” You answer after a moment of silence. Harry hums in response.

“It’s just the truth,” he pauses. “What music do y’like to listen to?”

“I’ll listen to anything. I don’t really have a preference.”

“Do you listen to my music?” Harry diverts his eyes away from the road to look at you. He has an expression on his face that you can’t quite read.

“Against my will, yeah. Watermelon Sugar and Adore You are on everytime I turn on KIIS FM, so…”

“Aminah, you love to hurt me don’t you? You minx,” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Those songs do get a lot of radio play though, don’t they?”

“I’m joking, Harry! I do listen to your music,” you feel a little embarrassed admitting that because you didn’t want him to think you were like, obsessed, with him. “My roommate Serena is a big fan so I’m always hearing your music around our apartment.”

Harry beams at this. “Well, that’s lovely. I’ll have to remember that when it’s time for my LA shows.”

Los Angeles traffic did as Los Angeles traffic does, and you were stuck in the car for over an hour.

By the time Harry was turning onto your street to drop you off, you were starting to grow anxious. You knew the socially acceptable thing to do when someone drove you around places was offer them gas money, but was Harry expecting that? Would it be rude if you didn’t? Would it be weird if you did?

“It’s coming up on the left,” you say quietly, nodding your head in the direction of your complex. Harry nods and slows down his car, pulling over to the side. He puts his car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt, turning to face you.

“I had a great time today, Aminah. Sorry I had you meet me so far away.” he apologizes.

“It’s no problem,” you assure him. “That place was really good! I’m glad you introduced it to me. I’ll have to go back with my roommates soon.”

“I bet they’ll like it,” he drums his fingertips against the steering wheel. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“You don’t have to, Harry,” you point. “It’s right there, super close. Only if you want to.”

“I want to.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt. “Then sure.”

Harry quickly gets out of the car and runs around to your side, opening your door before you can even gather up your bag. He cautions you to watch your step as you get out of the car and you step out, giving him a small smile. The hot sun beats down on the back of your neck and the top of your head, making you feel even warmer than you were already feeling from the fact that Harry wanted to walk you to your door. He comments on how your apartment isn’t even that far from Malibu but the traffic makes it feel like it’s a continent away, and you nod in agreement.

“Oh, totally,” you reply. “I thought New York traffic was horrible but at least it was really easy to walk everywhere. Everything’s so spread out here.” You abruptly stop walking as you approach the door of your apartment.

“You weren’t kidding,” he laughs. “Your apartment was close by.”

“Yeah…,” you shift from foot to foot, slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t really know the etiquette for this but like, can I offer you some gas money or anything? I just feel bad that you had to go so out of your way.”

“Oh none of that, Aminah,” he has an amused look on his face. “Come on, now. ‘M more than happy to help.”

You smile. “I figured you would say no but I still thought I should ask.” You tuck a flyaway curl behind your ear and look away. Harry clears his throat, looking down.

“Well, I guess I’ll get goin’,” he looks back up at you. “I’ll see you another time then? Hopefully soon?”

“I’d like that,” you respond. “Thank you again for lunch and everything, Harry.”

Harry tells you again that it was his pleasure. As you turn to walk the few steps to your door, he calls out your name. You quickly turn around, eyebrow quirked.

“Do y’think you can send me those photographs you took? I think I look bloody fantastic”

[bqstqnbruin]

4 times he wanted to come over + one time he did

Ok, we’re going to ignore several things here, like the fact that this was an 8 page Google Doc that I put together in a few hours, the fact that said document had been blank since June, t y p o s, and the fact that it’s nearly three am and I have my first day of classes technically today (aka at 2 pm).

But here I am, with my second fic of the day? IDK but since classes are starting, my posts are going to be a lot less frequent, so hopefully you guys like this! -------------------

one

Your apartment was finally put together just the way you liked it; all your stuff had its place, it was decorated just the way you liked it, you even had a pantry full of food, a rare feat when you were in college even with living with three other girls. Your first morning in your new, fully set up place was going to be celebrated by yourself. You had planned to make yourself breakfast that would probably last into lunch, order Chinese food later that night, drink coffee and watch Seinfeld on Hulu until you felt like going to sleep. There was no better way to break in a new place than by just relaxing in it. 

You turn on your TV, setting your coffee and plate down on the table in front of your couch, and walk over to the huge windows you were lucky enough to have in the apartment. It was a picture-perfect day, and the sun shined right into your apartment, not a single cloud in the blue sky. You felt like you were in a movie like someone had curated the scene and that with the touch of a button, the green screen would be gone and so would the magic. 

Sitting down, putting your feet up on the table, you dig in. This was actually perfect for you. Your new job was going to be stressful and you knew it. The more you could find ways to relax in your home, the better the job would be. 

After three episodes and nearly spilling your coffee all over you twice, you decide to get up and move around. You were drawn back to your windows, still in awe at the scene on the other side of them. Across the street, it looks like someone was doing the same in their apartment. He was tall, handsome, shirtless, and covered with tattoos that you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of. 

He waves at you smiling in a way that made you melt. It took everything in you to wave back and not do something stupid, mentally thanking yourself that the pajamas you had been wearing were athletic shorts and a tshirt from your sorority, and not something more embarrassing. 

You go back to your couch, knowing that he could still see you and probably what you were watching. You couldn’t focus on the episode, feeling as if he were still there watching you. You tried to force yourself not to steal glances at him but failed, every so often seeing him mirroring your actions, watching TV on his couch. You didn’t know that the entire time, he was also stealing glances at you. He couldn’t help it; never before had he seen someone look so naturally beautiful, so in their element and carefree while just sitting and watching TV. 

“Fuck it,” you say to yourself, pausing mid-episode and getting up to find the paper, markers, and tape you know you had stashed somewhere.

Messily scrawling ‘I just moved in, nice to meet you,’ on a piece of paper, you tape it up on the window, praying that you wrote it big and dark enough that he could see it.  Sighing when he wasn’t still on the couch, you get back on your own and press play on the TV again. 

Where could he have gone? And why were you more invested in the handsome stranger on the other side of the street than you were in the show about nothing that you had grown up watching? 

Your stomach growls, not quite late enough to order dinner, you wander into your kitchen to get a snack, looking over to the window of handsome man to see that he had left a note, presumably for you. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Pierre-Luc’ was written in print messier than that of a doctor’s. Thank god your best friend growing up had the world’s worst writing, having to ask him to rewrite it would have been demeaning and embarrassing. 

And so it began: you would write a note, watch an episode, then check to see if he left you anything back. He always did, 

His name was Pierre-Luc and he played hockey. After a quick google search, unbeknownst to him since you were assuming he couldn’t see what was on your phone, you found that he was a professional hockey player, player for the Blue Jackets. Great, as if he weren’t already being sweet, asking you questions, leaving you charmingly flirty messages on his window for you, now he was an athlete? Quite possibly one of the sexiest types of men in your opinion? Great. Amazing. 

‘What’s for dinner?’ he leaves on his window, disappearing somewhere into his apartment. 

‘Ideally Chinese food, where do you suggest?’ is what you leave for him, scrolling through Uber eats to see what was cheapest and nearby. You look up, seeing him writing on a notepad his answer, taping it to his window before sending you what you could swear was a wink. 

‘Best place to eat out is here at my place,” you read, bursting out laughing. Confident, this one. 

You roll your eyes, leaving a cheeky message about sticking to Chinese food and just ordering it from the first place that came up. 

The night went on, you not realizing you had spent the whole day flirting with a window stranger. He had liked talking to you, too, but it was pretty bad for the environment to be wasting all this paper when he could clearly see the phone that was in your hand or on your table. Writing his number on what he hoped would be his final piece of paper, maybe you would invite him over. Or he could invite you over. There was something about you that he wanted to spend time with you, not flirt with you while a city street separates you. Taping the paper up, he can see you, fast asleep on the couch, your TV screen asking you if you were still there. 

Closing his curtains, he hoped that you would use the number soon so you could actually spend time with him. 

 Two

You had been feeding that cat every morning for over a month. You loved that stray cat; there was a weird sense of satisfaction in feeding her even though you knew your apartment building wouldn’t allow you to take her in as a pet. But of course, the day you had your friends coming over for dinner was the day you had to run to the store to buy more cat food because you ran out the day before and forgot to get some yesterday. You didn’t know who put food out for the cat at night, or even if anyone did. 

You go to the bowl sitting in the alley way, seeing that it was empty, confirming your suspicion that no one else fed the poor cat. You would have to start feeding it at night, too. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to do this,” you hear someone say behind you. You get up to see him, the man from the window. 

“Pierre-Luc? Why don’t I have to do this?” 

“Because I’ve been doing it.” 

“No, I have,” you argue, knowing that this would lead to a never-ending circle of ‘me, no me.’ You had been texting each other for a few weeks, constantly trying to figure out when you could spend time together, but much like you and your best friend during senior year of college, your schedules never matched up, going a year before finally seeing each other. 

“When?” he asks, a cocky smile dancing across his face. 

“Every morning before work, what about you,” you ask, getting closer to him. You text relationship was flirty, you were sure of it. Every time you passed by your window when he was home, he made a point to check you out, he winked at you, he smiled. He exuded a welcome confidence that you weren’t used to.

“Every day when I get back from practice.”

“What about the days that you’re away for games?”

“I figured someone would feed him for me.”

“The cat’s a girl,” you say, the little feline coming up to you. “You would know that if you didn’t just assume other people were doing what you set out to do in the first place.”

“Well, my assumption was correct, wasn’t it?” he says, a devilish twinkle in his eye as his tongue runs along his bottom lip. 

“You know what they say about assuming,” you tell him, breaking your eye contact to put out some food for the purring animal.

“What’s that?”

“It makes an ass outta you and me,” you tell him, looking up at him towering over you as a laugh leaving his lips. Given his demeanor, you wouldn’t expect him to look as, what’s the right word, jolly? As he did. 

“How come you’re feeding her now if you usually do it in the morning?” he asks, bending down to help you.

Feeling your phone buzzing in your pocket that signaled your friends were already there waiting for you, you tell him, “I ran out of food yesterday and didn’t have the chance to get more until after work. Plus, I needed to pick some stuff up for tonight, anyway.”

“Tonight?” he asks, his head snapping up. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, ran through his head.

“Yeah, my friends are coming over for dinner. It’s the first time they’ll be seeing my new place.” You pause for a minute. He was here, obviously with some free time, but did you want his first time over your place to be surrounded by your nosy friends? They knew you were talking to an attractive neighbor, but you knew they would say things to him that would mortify you and send you running before he got the chance. 

But like the night you first moved in, fuck it. “Are you free tonight? I would love for you to come over,” you tell him, the smile on his face disappearing as soon as you asked.

“I have a game tonight, I can’t. I was actually about to change and then leave,” he says, looking sad. He wanted to come over, and as soon as you said you were having friends over, he knew that you were going to ask him. 

“Oh, that’s fine. Now I have a reason to watch a game, though,” you tell him, smiling. You had to admit, you were a little bit upset, but again, it was probably for the best that he didn’t meet your friends just yet. 

“If the game ends early enough, I’ll stop by, yeah?” he suggests, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, sure. I’d like that.” 

Three

“Babe, you’ve lived here for like, what? Almost six months? You have a hot as fuck neighbor who you actually talk to, and he hasn’t come over yet? Why haven’t you asked him to come over?” Amy says with food in her mouth. Your friends were over, again, this time to hang out before they went out to the bars. You were originally going to go, but you were too exhausted, and having already promised to host the pregame, you weren’t going to back out now. 

“You call me babe more than any guy I’ve met, you realize that right?” you ask her, getting up to go over to your window. You knew he wasn’t home; you had the Columbus game against the Flyers playing on your TV, Pierre-Luc was on the ice as you absentmindedly went over to the window to see if he was there. “Plus, our schedules never work. Look, Aimes, he’s literally on our TV, meanwhile as soon as all you hooligans leave, I’m going to bed. 

“Come on, stay up for the man,” Jeff said. The only male in your group of friends, he always entered the girl talk, encouraging you to get with a guy just as much as the others. 

“I’m going out to breakfast with you guys in the morning, how cranky do you want me to be, Jeffy? You know I will not hesitate to throw a potato at you,” you say, the rest of the group laughing even though they know you’re serious. You have thrown stuff at him and only him during breakfast before, him never thinking you’d have the guts to cause a scene in public, but doing it anyway. 

“We all know you’d be less cranky if you got laid,” he says through a mouthful of food. Why did everyone talk with their mouths open?

“Tomorrow I’m ordering two breakfasts; one to eat and one to throw at you.” 

You tune out your friends for the rest of the night. You only paid attention to the hockey game, your eyes trying to stay focused on Pierre-Luc every time he was on the ice. You did really want him to come over, but again, the first time couldn’t be with your friends, not when they were full psychopaths when it came to any boy that you were talking to. What would you have done if Pierre-Luc was there when Jeff commented about you being cranky and needed to get laid? 

Why did the cute guy have to have such a complicated schedule? Every time you were free, he was to jet off somewhere in the country for a few days for games, then he would come back, sleep, go to practice, and then go to a game. From what you could tell, he never stayed up past maybe 10 pm on the nights he didn’t have games, he napped nearly every day after practices, and he really was only home to eat.

Not that you were stalking him. Or memorizing his schedule. You two talked all the time, having evolved from notes in the windows to texting, from texting to calling, from calling to him falling asleep before you while on Facetime. He was one of your best friends, and you had never actually hung out with him at your or his apartment. 

“So how long will it take for him to get home now that the game is over?” Amy asks, snapping you out of the trance that you didn’t know you were in.

You didn’t even know that the game was over; the Jackets beat the Flyers 2-1, the game apparently ending about five minutes ago. You never timed how long it took between the game being over and him getting home since it was different pretty much every night. You think. Again, it’s not like you were stalking the boy. “Uh, I don’t know, half an hour?” you guess, giving them what you hoped was enough information for them to not ask you more.

“So has he sent you any like sexy pics?” Tanaka pips in, you nearly choking on the water you were drinking. 

“What the ever living fuck?” you nearly scream, all your friends laughing at your reaction. “There is no way I would ever tell you. Guys, we’re friends. Yes, he’s cute, hell, he’s fucking hot, but we’ve never physically spent time together, so can we just drop it?” 

They change the subject, going back to the conversation from this afternoon that involved them trying to get you to go out. You loved your friends, they were your found family, but dammit they wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

“Wait, sorry, which apartment is his again?” Jeff asks in the middle of you telling them yet again why you weren’t going out with them. 

You all snap your heads to the other building, the one directly across from you now with lights on. “That one,” you say, Pierre-Luc appearing in the window, all of your friends running up to go wave to him. This was mortifying. Your phone started buzzing on the table, and with Pierre-Luc having his phone out for his friends to see, they knew it was from him.

“What did he say!” Tanaka yells, trying to grab your phone from you. 

“He said get your creepy friends away from the window,” you lie. If you told them he was asking to come over, they would steal your phone and make him come. “Guys, shouldn’t you be going by now? It’s almost 11, the deal at the bar ends at midnight and all of you are still sober,” you point out, praying that it would work.

“Let’s get drunk!” Amy says, grabbing her bag and marching out the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” 

“Yep, I’m going to sleep. Text me when you’re all alive!” you say, pushing them out the door.

Your phone buzzes again, Pierre-Luc asking again if he could come now that your friends were gone. You wanted to say yes, but you knew that as soon as he came over, you would be asleep. Plus he just came from a game, there was no way he wasn’t also exhausted. ‘I’m about to pass out, I’m sorry. We’ll hang out eventually, I promise’

Four

You should be back in your apartment by now. You had told Pierre-Luc that you would be home by 11 pm. You had an early day the next day and staying out late wasn’t something you wanted to do, no matter how good your date went or how attractive you thought the guy was. 

Much to Pierre-Luc’s dismay, you had told him that your friend Amy had set you up with someone she knew from school. You were going out with him tonight, you Facetiming Pierre-Luc while getting ready. He should have just been over there, watching you get ready. No actually, he should have been the one taking you out, but at this point in whatever the hell relationship you had, the first thing that you were going to do in person with each other, besides that one time you fed the alley cat, was hang out in each other’s apartment. 

He was pacing, checking his phone to see if you had sent him anything about your whereabouts. You should have been home by now, why weren’t you home? If you weren’t home in ten minutes, he was going to call the police. No, they wouldn’t do anything. He would figure out how to hack your phone, try to find Amy on social media, something so that he would know you were safe. 

Sitting down on his couch, he positioned himself so he had a direct view of your apartment. As soon as you walked in the door and turn on the light to your living room, he would know. He needed that light to go on right now. 

‘Maybe I should go over and wait outside her door? Would that be creepy?’ he thought to himself, ‘I could say that I was just checking on you, which would technically be true. It’s not like you were going to bring the guy home, right? But what if you did and then I was there sitting outside your door. I can’t ruin things for you.’ 

Why has it taken him so long to even get over to your place? Or for you to come over to his? He hated that your schedules were just different enough that you couldn’t meet up. You were always running out the door when he was just getting home and vice versa. He couldn’t even fathom what he would do the first time he saw you in person.

He should have just kissed you when you were feeding the cat. He knows that he wants to date you, how could he not someone who was sweet enough to do something like that for a random cat but also unafraid to chirp him like his teammates? 

Your light goes on, him doing everything in his power to not jump up and go to his window, but that doesn’t stop him from watching what was happening.

Your date went well; you and David had really hit it off, leading to making out in the elevator ride up, stumbling into your apartment with your lips practically glued to his. You look across to Pierre-Luc’s apartment, him sitting there. You make eye contact with him, smiling because of David. David comes up behind you, starting to kiss you down your neck. You send a thumbs up to Pierre-Luc, closing the curtain as you let David do as he pleases.

Pierre-Luc sits on his couch, dumbfounded by what he just saw. That should have been him. He should have been the one in your apartment with you right now. 

+one

Saturday morning, sitting on your couch, watching Seinfeld. A cup of coffee, your phone, and a plate with some fruit on it, much like the first full day when you moved in. The sky was cloudless and blue, but you weren’t admiring it in the same way as you were that day. You were out with David last night, one month after your first date. You thought everything was going great, until he told you that he wanted to see other people. You shouldn’t have been surprised, he had been saying that he wasn’t sure he was ready for a relationship, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt when he officially broke it off with you. 

‘You’re crying,’ a message from Pierre-Luc pops up on your screen. For a moment, you forgot your curtains were open, giving him a full view into your apartment. 

‘Yep,’ you reply back, not sure what else to say. He could see you, it’s not like you could lie to him. 

‘Need to talk about it?’ 

‘I don’t want to Facetime right now.’

‘Got it,’ was all he said. You look over at his apartment, just in time to see him shutting the door behind him. What the hell was he doing that he could ask you to Facetime and then leave right after? You let out a sigh, deciding to focus on the TV and try to force yourself to eat the fruit. You weren’t going to feel any better if your hunger turned into hanger, so you might as well eat the food that was in front of you. 

You didn’t know where your phone ended up; somewhere in the couch cushions maybe? On the floor? You didn’t even care, you just wanted to wallow and be dramatic for the day. What you weren’t expecting was the knock on your door, interrupting your favorite episode of the show. Getting up, not expecting anyone, you debated even opening the door when you hear his voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s me, open up.” You see Pierre-Luc standing there, a bag from the donut shop down the street in hand, a bunch of take out menus in the other.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, him pushing past you and plopping down on the couch, obviously already knowing the way around. 

“You were upset so I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he says, taking out the donuts, putting them on the plate with your fruit, popping a piece in his mouth. “You don’t have to talk about it, but at least this way we’re finally hanging out in person.”

There was something about seeing him sitting on your couch that just felt right. He looked so at home, his feet already up on your table in the way you sat pretty much all the time. He had already started up the episode, replaying it from the beginning so he could see it when you sit down beside him, tucking your feet underneath you. 

“Come here,” he says, reaching his arm out. You cuddle up next to him, your head on his shoulder as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. It felt so right. So much better than with David, so much better than with any of the other guys you had been with. 

“He dumped me,” you tell him, even though you were sure that you had already texted him that last night when you were on your way home. 

“He didn’t deserve you,” you hear him say. He mumbled something else, something you couldn’t quite make out. If he wanted you to hear it, he would have said it louder, you figured.

“He said I play hard to get?” you ask, unsure if that was true or not. Were you hard to get? You slept with the guy on the first night, Pierre-Luc had seen the beginning of it through the window. 

“No, you’re not hard to get, you’re hard to earn. Any guy would be lucky to have you. If I had you, I’d,” he stops himself, mentally kicking himself for opening that can of worms that he really didn’t want to dive into yet. You hadn’t even been out on a first date. If anything, maybe, this was your first date. 

“You’d what?” you say, sitting up, hoping he would continue. This was his first time in your apartment. Something you had both thought about a lot. You wanted to hear what he would do if you were together, hoping whatever he said would actually happen. 

“I’d feed the cat with you in the morning and then do it by myself in the afternoon if I didn’t have a game or something,” he starts, laughing, “I’d go out to breakfast with your friends even if we didn’t go out with them the night before. I’d even hang out with them whenever you did, even though they are a little crazy. You love the people around you, the animals that aren’t even your own pets. You deserve someone who will love you back the way you love everyone and everything.” 

You sit there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I should have been the one that night in here with you, not him,” he says, finally admitting it out loud. 

“Do something about it now, then,” you tell him.

“What?” he asks, stunned. 

“Forget that night you saw me with David, and do something now,” you insist. You had wanted this just as bad as he did, so why were either of you waiting?

He starts slow, sweet, his hand on your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. His lips move with yours, his tongue swiping your bottom lip as his other hand snakes it’s way around you back, picking you up from the seat next to you and placing you in his lap. Your hands go through his hair, your mind blank. This was what you had been waiting for since you first saw him.

He pulls away, his cheeks now red, a smile on his face, “I really hope I’m the only one who ever looked through your window.”

“If anyone else is looking then at least they get a little bit of a show,” you say, kissing him again. 

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: A Balmy Tuesday in Hell

Taking a break from the prompt requests to wish a very happy birthday to @snailbutters! Tbh I like this idea a lot and I’m tempted to expand on it more. Cross posted on AO3. 

xxx

When Mike went looking for a part-time job to earn some spending money, he had a hard time finding one that worked around his college class schedule. All the good on-campus jobs were taken, and most of the ones he found offsite required him to be up way too early or way too late with very little flexibility. 

The front desk position at the Beelzebob, a local hair salon advertising an array of “wicked styles” for any occasion, was not the most glamorous position, but it welcomed part timers and offered flexible schedules to be discussed on a case by case basis. It was at the tail end of a long week of job hunting with little to show for it, and Mike was tired. Still, he dragged himself all the way there after his three-hour Friday seminar and put on his best retail charm for the interview. 

One of the stylists told him to wait in the lobby while she grabbed the manager for his interview, and so Mike sat in a plush, purple chair and eyed the stack of magazines on the coffee table—HJi, Professional Beauty, NHF, and others he recognized from Googling “how to work at a hair salon” last night. A playlist that seemed to consist entirely of K-pop pumped ripples of bubblegum bass through the speakers and had Mike tapping his fingers on his hip. There was no one behind the sleek, glass reception desk, so Mike got up and wandered over to it. He tried to imagine himself with the headset on, fielding phone calls and helping customers pick out one of the many luxury hair products on the walls behind the desk. He touched his own brown hair—plain and getting a bit long, but styled with a little wax for the day—and worried about whether he should have tried a bit harder for this interview. Would he be judged on his own hair? That seemed reasonable enough—

“This simply won’t do.”

Mike startled at the lyrical voice and turned around to find a seven-foot, red-skinned demon in Lululemons appraising him over an enterprising nose. Which would have been a cause for mild to moderate alarm even in Metroville—a hub for lowlifes, Supervillains, and the occasional monster on a mission out of Townsville farther north—except that Mike recognized this particular demon. At which point he got the pun in the name of this place and smiled. 

“Him,” he squeaked. And then, remembering his high school retail training: “I mean, Mr. Him.”

Him—Prince of Pestilence, Duke of Depravity, Earl of Evil, et cetera—blushed the color of an open wound. “You’re house trained, I see. All right, this way.”

Him turned on his Louboutin heel and headed into the salon. Mike hurried after Him, unsure whether this was good or bad. Him led him to a styling chair and sat him down. A purple salon cape made its way around Mike’s neck with a flamenco flourish, and Him leaned over his head in the reflection. 

“What are we thinking?”

Mike eyed his potential future employer from perfectly curled goatee to artificial mink lashes and hesitated. 

This is a test. 

It had to be. Surely, anyone manning the phones had to know something about haircare in general. If he was to be the vanguard, the watcher on the Wall, he would have to be able to alert his colleagues of the incoming threats and answer questions about how to fend off anything from tangles to split ends. Mike tried to remember the last time he got a haircut; Boomer had been with him, his eye far more discerning than Mike’s. 

“Comb over,” Mike said. 

“Quiff?”

“More faux hawk.” He tried not to think of the heat on the back of his neck, and instead of the sly grin on Boomer’s face the last time he’d been under the scissors. “With a low fade. Um, please.”

Him’s fangs gleamed when he grinned. “Good choice.”

For a demon with claws the size of dinner plates, Him was surprisingly adroit and precise to a literal razor’s edge. In fact, Mike was certain Him must sharpen his claws to get them sharp enough to shave the hair from the nape of his neck, which seemed like a sensible time-saver. Blackpink’s Pretty Savage blared over the speaker as Him coifed and styled the thicker locks that remained on top of Mike’s head, combed to the left in enviable, anti-gravity perfection. 

“Wow.” He touched the side of his head, marveling at the close but generous cut and the perfect blend. “This has to be the best haircut I’ve ever gotten.”

He got up and removed the cape, only to find Him with a broom in his claw. “I run a clean salon, Michael.”

Mike accepted the broom without question. “Yes, sir.”

Him preened. “Good lad.”

“Does… Does this mean I got the job?”

Him flipped his claw. “There will be a trial period. You young people are so used to texting that I’ll have to determine if you’re fit to answer a phone. But, considering your manners, I have a good feeling about you.”

Amazing! “Thank you so much! When do I start?”

“Honey, you’re already late. I have customers waiting.” Him snapped his claw. “Chop chop.”

Mike swept up his shorn hair and the hair around the chair next to his, dumped it all in a bin labeled “Hair,” and ran to the front desk to answer the phone ringing off the hook. The stylist who’d greeted him, Marisol, helped him with the computer login so he could manage appointments and checkout. It was easy enough, a Square card reader and a cash register and a huge logbook of every sale. 

“Middle finger up, F-U, pay me,” Mike whisper-rapped along with Lisa. 

A couple hours later, Him handed him a check for the time worked and told him to be back here tomorrow at 3 p.m. Mike accepted the check, but he didn’t pocket it. 

“Sir, I should tell you for the sake of full disclosure.”

Him peered down at him with his claws on his hips. “Oh?”

This should not be so hard.

“I’m, well, I’m involved. With your son. Boomer.”

Him clicked his claw, and Mike held his breath. 

Boomer had spoken about Him—Baron of Brutality, King of Chaos, Emperor of Enmity et cetera—on just a few occasions throughout their acquaintance. Raising souls from the dead was a hobby of Him’s, apparently, but often his necromantic offspring ended up rotting and were no fit candidates to promenade in civilized society that wasn’t eternally damned and burning. Chemical X cut out that inconvenience, and thus the perfect little boys were reborn, or something. According to Boomer, Him was evil on Sundays, a prolific genius on Tuesdays, and crocheting with his kobolds on Fridays. The rest of the time he was just a normal demon trying to survive in this capitalist post-modern society like everybody else. Anyway, Sunday wasn’t in Mike’s work schedule, so that seemed safe enough.

“I know,” Him said. “You don’t expect me to believe you’d Googled the most flattering hairstyle for your bone structure without help, do you?”

Mike was pretty sure there was a compliment in there, even if it wasn’t for him. “I guess not.”

Him beamed. “Don’t worry. I would never let my favorite son’s romantic life influence the culture at Beelzebob. You’ll be judged before an impartial tribunal of incubi, like everybody else. Now, before you go, I’d like you to dispose of the waste, please.”

Mike learned the value of separating trash that day. Discarded receipts and candy wrappers dumped in the waste bin went into the trash, lunch leftovers went to compost, and cut hair went to sacrificial offerings. 

“Sacrifices reduce our carbon footprint and offer protection against flat Earthers. It’s a proven science, you know.”

Mike supposed it would be poor manners to argue with an ancient evil on his crochet day.

xxx

Boomer was all sly smiles and discreet hand touches when Mike treated him to dinner at their favorite Thai place later that week. 

“So, your job seems to be paying well,” he said. 

“Well enough to take my boyfriend out to a nice dinner now and then.”

“Careful. Spend too much time with Him and your tastes will get really expensive.”

Mike laughed. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll switch majors to cosmetology and join the family business.”

“You know what? He’d probably love that. He tried so hard to get Brick to follow in his footsteps, but Mojo let him mess around on his E-Shares account once when we were eleven and Brick was lost to the finance track forever. I’m pretty sure Mojo did it on purpose.” Boomer leaned in and clinked his wine glass to Mike’s. “Anyway, buy me this dinner before you jump to joining the family business.”

Mike flushed. “I’m—I didn’t—”

Boomer laughed. “Chill! I’m just messing with you.”

The playlist at the restaurant began playing Blackpink’s Kill This Love, and Mike burst out laughing. 

“What?” Boomer asked. “You like this song? You know, Him is really big into K-pop lately. Butch thinks someone must have sold a bunch of souls and made a killing.”

“I know.” Mike kissed Boomer’s hand. “It’s just funny how things work out.”

Boomer smiled. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Their food arrived, and Mike happily ate his meal across from Boomer. And in the back of his mind, he said a little thank-you to Him and whatever chaotic forces he controlled for reviving Boomer all those years ago. 

It must have been a balmy Tuesday in Hell.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[avengerscompound]

Until the End of the World - 10

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1801

Rating:  E

Warnings: pregnancy

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together.  Things are calm and you feel like a family unit.  When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem.  When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 10

The tabloid sites all latched on to the story of you being pregnant very quickly.  Due to the fact you were often seen out with either Bucky or Steve or both, there had been speculation about who exactly you were.  Theories went from dating one and cheating on them with the other.  Being a ‘close family friend’.  Dating one and the other being a close friend.  Bouncing between them both like a ping-pong ball.  Many fans speculated that they were polyamorous.  Bucky had even made the mistake of going deep into the ‘Avengers fandom’ and discovered people doing what they called ‘shipping’ the three of you together.  Not just the three of you but him and Steve with all kinds of people.  He’d stopped looking when he saw people writing stories about him and Tony together.  It turned out there were things he was better off not knowing.

None of the tabloids ever assumed polyamory though, and neither he nor Steve was going to confirm it for them.  That made your pregnancy the subject of a lot of speculation.  Whose baby was it?  The most loved version of the story was that it was Bucky’s love child conceived while you were cheating on Steve with him.

It was a little stressful, but Bucky had heard worse.  There was still a vocal majority that considered him a threat that should have been tried for his crimes years ago.  Bucky had learned a long time ago not to google himself unless he was feeling particularly self-destructive.  You, on the other hand, were still learning, so it took some reassuring that this matter was no one else's business.

Besides the ever-present gossip mill, things were going well.  Every doctor's appointment showed that the baby was developing well.  All the tests you had were coming back fine.  You seemed to be full of energy and Geo was starting to get excited about the idea of having a little brother or sister.  The new place was nearly finished.  Bucky hadn’t been sent on a mission for a long time.  He felt happy - and that was a feeling he liked to experience as fully as he could because he knew from experience how fleeting it could be.

The three of you had decided to take Geo along to the ultrasound where you’d be finding out the sex.  He had only seen pictures of the baby so far and you’d thought he might like to see them moving around and find out if he was having a brother or a sister.  According to you, the baby was kicking a lot at the moment, so you weren't worried about bad news being delivered.

Geo sat on Bucky’s lap while Steve sat beside you, holding your hand as the technician squeeze the gel onto your stomach.  “Have they been kicking much?”  Brown asked as she began to move the wand around on your stomach.  Bucky looked up at the screen, waiting for the baby to come into view.

You smiled and nodded.  “So much.  The little nugget is going to be a fighter.”

Brown smiled.  “Just like it’s dads, huh?”  She said.  “Has anyone else felt the kicks?”

“Not yet,” Steve answered.  “I can’t wait though.”

The baby came into view on the screen.  You’d been getting pretty regular ultrasounds with your checkups and Bucky liked how the little blob was getting bigger and looking more like a baby every time.  “It shouldn’t be too much longer.  I’d bet by the end of the week you get a little flutter against your hand.”

Steve looked at Bucky and grinned and Bucky couldn’t help but lean over and peck his lips.  Geo didn’t seem that happy with the action and he wriggled in Bucky’s lap.  Bucky chuckled and pulled back.  “Can you see the baby, G?”  He asked, pointing at the screen.

Geo nodded.  “The machine is really cool how it works.  It’s using sound to make the shape of the baby inside mom.”

“That’s right,” Brown said.  “You’re a smart kid.”

Geo looked up at Bucky and grinned obviously very proud of himself.  Bucky smiled and ruffled his hair.

“If you see here,” Brown said.  “This is the baby's head, and their spine.  They have hands and feet and you can even see their toes and fingers…”

Geo watched on fascinated by the digital image of his new sibling.  Not just because that was his new sibling, but because he had a scientific fascination with where it was developmentally and how the machines could show what they show.  He asked lots of questions about whether it could hear or see and how it absorbed food.  Bucky couldn’t really remember what kids were like, and so he had no idea if this was advance thinking for a seven-year-old or not.  He felt like it was advanced though, and he made a mental note to ask you later.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”  Geo asked.

“I can find out,” the tech said.  “Is that okay, Captain Rogers?”

Steve chuckled.  “It’s not just my decision to make.”

Brown hid her face behind her hands for a moment and shook her head.  “I’m so sorry, that is such a default reaction.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said.  “Please just relax.  We’re just patients.  And yes, we already decided we wanted to find out.”

She moved the wand around to get it into position.  “Well, bud,” Brown said.  “Did you have a preference?”

“I dunno,” Geo said.  “I don’t have either.”

“Well you don’t have a brother,” Brown said.  “You’re going to have a little sister.”

“It’s a girl?”  Bucky asked, looking over at you and Steve to see your reactions.  Steve looked like he’d been lit up from the inside, and tears had pricked your eyes.

“That’s right.  It’s a girl,” Brown confirmed.

“A little girl,” Steve said, softly.

“Now we have one of each,” Bucky said, and Geo turned around on Bucky’s lap and hugged him.  Bucky closed his arms around the boy, hugging him tightly.  “You’re gonna be such a good big brother,” Bucky whispered as he hugged the boy.

“Do you want any pictures this time?”  Brown asked.

“Yes, please,” you said, quickly.

Brown cleaned off the paddle and pressed the button to print out the photos of the baby.  You grabbed some kleenex from the counter and cleaned the gel off your stomach.  “You think Morgan will be excited there’s going to be another little girl around?”  Steve asked Geo.

“Probably,” Geo said.  “As long as she likes robots too.  Umm… you think the baby will be able to talk to the computers like I can?”

Steve furrowed his brow as he helped you up.  Bucky shook his head to clear it.  It was strange, despite the fact that Geo had powers that he’d clearly gotten from you, and the fact both he and Steve had the Super Serum, the thought of a super-powered baby had never really crossed their minds.  It was like all that was just such a normal part of their lives now, they didn’t really think about how it impacted things.  You didn’t have powers and it was possible the only reason Geo did was that both you and his father had been through experimentation so close to his conception.  It could be that those drugs were now completely out of your system, but no one had thought to look into that first.

“You know what?”  Steve said eventually.  “I don’t know.”

“Probably should have considered that before we dived in with both feet, huh?” You said.

“You could ask your obstetrician about doing an amniocentesis,” Brown suggested.  “Then they could do a genetic workup.  Check for abnormalities.”

“Don’t they have risks involved?”  You asked.

“Sure, but normally it’s one of those things where there are risks involved either way, and you decide which outcome is worse,” Brown explained.

You furrowed your brow and nodded and Bucky wondered what you were thinking.  “Thank you, Miss Brown,” Steve said.  “We’ll see you next time.”

“Of course,” she said, brightly.  “See you.”

The four of you walked out into the ward and headed to the elevator.  “I’m sorry if I upset you,” Geo said as the doors opened.

“You didn’t, G.  Don’t worry,” you assured him, kissing the top of his head.  “It’s just not something we thought about when we probably should have.  Because you got your powers from me and your birth dad, but Bucky and Steve have their own powers.”

“Well, we’re enhanced,” Steve corrected them.  “Not the same as what you have.”

“I think…” Bucky said slowly, aware that this was not a discussion that should be held in front of Geo, but also knowing that the boy needed to be reassured that his powers were not a negative, nor would he be losing the sister he really only just met.  “I think it might be too late to worry about.  I mean… what if they do find out the baby is enhanced?  It’s not like we would love them any less, or not want them.  They’d just be special, like Geo.”

“Of course,” you said quickly.  “We would have done this either way I think.”

“So… let’s just wait and see.  We don’t want to risk anything bad happening,” Bucky said.  “The baby looks normal, so we know it’s not a tentacle beast.”

Geo started laughing.  “That would be so cool.”

“She might not be able to talk to computers even if she does have powers though, G,” you said, stifling your own laugh. “When I had powers I could hear people’s thoughts.  And your dad, he could run really fast.”

“Wow,” Geo said. “I hope she can fly.”

“Oh my goodness,” you said.  “I don’t.”

“Yeah, imagine having to change a diaper on a baby and it’s zooming around over your head,” Bucky said, making Geo breakdown into fits of giggles.

“Alright, Geo,” Steve said.  “You go wash up and we’ll have some lunch.  Do you want to see if Morgan can come to play and you can tell her all about your sister?”

“Yeah, alright,” Geo said, running off to the bathroom.

Steve turned to you and Bucky and took your hands.  “It’s going to be fine,” he said.  “We can face whatever happens, I know we can.”

“Let’s just hope they can’t fly,” you joked.

“We’ll handle that too,” Steve said.

“Yeah, we’ll put a little harness on them, and weigh them down with rocks,” Bucky joked and you burst out laughing.

Steve wrapped his arms around you and pulled Bucky in close so that all three of you were holding each other.  Bucky closed his eyes and breathed you both in, confident that together, you could all handle whatever powers she may or may not have.

// NEXT

[glassartpeasants]

Fragile Hearts

Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hanahaki disease, sad reader hours, reader is insecure, mentions of death, name calling, this is really sad so read at your own risk

A/N: I wish this shit didn’t hit different. Wanna know why? Probably because i’ve got 2 series going down at this moment. Crying In The Club plus and a Shigaraki one thats still in the making. So we’re suffering together ya’ll.

It’s angst month motherfuckers >:)

~~~

God he looked so handsome today. Those beautiful ruby eyes always found a way to creep into your brain. How could they not? You felt a wave love whenever you stared into them. It always gave your heart joy staring into them.

But it always gave you pain.

Maybe cause you were to afraid to confess? Or was the fact that he seemed to not even show a pinch of interest in you. Or was it the fact that he seemed much more interested in a different women every day. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he indeed hire prostitutes or escorts. 

You never showed it but every time you saw a different woman leave his quarters it always felt someone had stabbed you right through the heart. You knew he was a reserved and quiet man. Hell he barely talked to anyone if it wasn’t for a meeting or telling someone off. He was a pretty angry and harsh soul. While you, well,

You were that kind of soul that you would have given the shirt off your back to anyone in need. Many villains (mainly Dabi) asked why even bother becoming a villain if you were so kind to them all, in Dabi’s words “Villains are suppose to be rude and horrible.” It was an reasonable question really. The true reason you became a villain was simple.

You held a unruly grudge against heros.

When you were about 8 years old a fire had started in your family home. The flames were so bright. You remembered that day so vividly. The screaming of your family trying to get everyone out. But they were stuck inside while you had managed to go over to a neighbors house and call the cops but when you called and they heard your voice they said,

“Listen kid we have bigger things to do. Next time when you call make sure there’s a real emergency instead of prank calling us.” And then he hung up. The cops, who were there to protect you had hung up on you.

And that fateful call was what sealed your families fate.

After that, you never really believed in the hero system. They had failed you and your family. Which was lead you to villainy. You may have been a kind soul but you would rather use that kindness to help out someone who you feel is worthy. The League of Villains picked you up off the streets, so to you, they were your only family.

~~~

You laid down on the bed that occupied your room, staring at the ceiling. It was nicer then the old bar you guys use to live in but, to you it didn’t feel the same. You were happy for how far you guys came but it just felt like most of the PLF kinda made you sad. You didn’t know why but it did. Maybe was it due to the fact that you wanted it to be just the league? You weren’t fond of these new people. Probably cause they tore you down a lot. 

Your quirk was Energy, your quirk allowed you to use energy of the sun to heal you and use sun rays. But the down fall of your quirk was that it was absolutely useless at night. So you had to rely on your combat skill in the night. That was one of the reasons they didn’t like you, cause your quirk kinda had a big flaw. But they also merciless teased you about being kind to your fellow league members. 

You wanted to scream at them. Tell them off, do something at least but, no matter what you thought you could do. Your confidence faded when you remember that they would probably tell Tomura about your outburst. And since he has a habit of decaying people without warning, you just decided it was best to keep your pretty mouth shut.

You sigh as you get off your bed before changing your clothes to pj’s. You put on the black tank top and pajama pants which were super soft and fuzzy. Putting on some socks you open the door and make your descent into the kitchen. You tried to be as quiet as you could. Not wanting to wake anyone up while you ran to get a midnight snack.

Once reaching the kitchen you turn on the lights and almost let out a scream but took a breath instead.

“Oh geez Dabi, scared the shit outta me.” You laugh before making movements towards the fridge.

“Good, gotta keep that blood pumping.” He chuckled before setting his whiskey down. 

You grab your snack before going next to Dabi and sitting down. You picked up your fork and begun to eat only to almost choke at Dabi’s words.

“So when are you gonna tell the boss you have a thing for him?” You almost choke on your food before looking at Dabi with wide eyes. What?! Was your staring that obvious? Oh god...

“H-how did you know?”

“We maybe surrounded by them but i’m no idiot. I can tell when someone has the hots for someone else. It’s just funny seeing you even try with that gremlin.” Dabi laughed at you while you crossed your arms. 

“So what if I think he’s hot? I know that I’ll never have a chance with him, considering all the woman he has coming in and out of his office.” You say with hints of sadness in your voice. It wasn’t hard to tell. You knew what this feeling was. You knew you had grown a one-sided love for your boss.

“Well if you think that you better be careful.” You uncross your arms with a confused look on your face.

“If your talking about me getting with him I know’ll get my heart bro-”

“No, I’m talking about you getting Hanahaki Disease.” What in the ever loving hell is that?

“What the fuck is that?”

“I can tell you one thing is that it never ends up being in a happy ending. So pray you don’t get it.” Dabi said before drinking the rest of the whiskey and going towards his room.

You furrow your brows as you look down at the table. Hanahaki Disease eh? Well you could probably look it up tomorrow, since you have no missions tomorrow as far as your knowledge. 

“The disease can’t be that bad, right?”

~~~

You wake up to a burning pain in your chest. You let out a little cough before going over to your bathroom to take a shower. This time you let out a louder cough, it felt like something was in your throat. Ugh this feeling was always the worst damnit.

You start coughing trying to get whatever the hell was in your throat out. You pounded at your chest before a little daisy popped out of your mouth. You fell on your ass while holding your throat, rubbing it as you looked at the flower with confusion. 

“How did that get in my throat?” You crawl over a scoop up the daisy. Looking at it with amazement and confusion. This is impossible, how the hell?

Grabbing your phone you opened up google and searched online for any answers on what this could mean.

‘i just coughed up a flower, what the does that mean?’

You wait for the screen to stop loading only to drop the flower and scurry away from it as fast as possible.

No way...this couldn’t be real, how could this happen! You knew you liked your boss but when you read the article saying it can only happen from a one sided love you knew you were boned.

How can you get rid of a love that has taken so long to blossom? Only for it to be your down fall. You kept reading up on it while sitting on the bathroom floor. The more you read the more scared you became. You could die from it if you didn’t get it treated! But the procedure was said to be very risky and highly dangerous. So it was pretty much up to you to get over your feelings for Shigaraki. Yeah that was going to be a pain in the ass.

Time could only tell.

~~~

Day One

You sat at the meeting while your eyes couldn’t help but stare at him. He was so gorgeous, who could you ever compare to the girls he brings to his beck ad call? They were perfect! You just felt like no matter what you did, you never could get the attention of your leader. No, you need to work on yourself! The disease can’t get worse or else-

“(Y/N)! Were you even paying attention?” Shigaraki’s voice boomed causing you to yelp. Snickering could be heard around the table causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. You look at Spinner and he sends you a apologetic look.

“No Shigaraki, I’m sorry. I had something on my mind.” You say looking down. You’ve never been one with getting yelled at. 

“Well get your head out of your ass and pay attention and if your not going to the doors right there.” 

“I’ll pay attention.” You said as you looked down, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill. Your nails dig into your clothes thighs as you only listen to Shigaraki. You wanted to but all you could hear was sweet voice that you wished was there instead of the one now.

~~~

Day 5

You looked terrible to say the least. You couldn’t believe that is was growing this fast! I mean when you looked into it it said 2-3 months but you didn’t think it would grow so unreasonable fast!

Thinking about it and pushing your panic aside you’ve come to the conclusion that its going faster because of how deep your love and loyalty is for him. It’s so deep rooted that the flowers are growing faster.

Especially the one growing on your neck. 

You’ve looked into what each flower means and the first one which was a daisy meant innocence, purity and loyal love. This time however, it was a rose. You looked it up and saw that it meant girlhood, modesty and secrecy. You knew why this one had popped up. Probably cause of the fact that you’ve been hiding in your room a lot lately. You didn’t want anyone to catch you hacking up flowers. It was already painful as it is so you don’t need any judgement stares.

That didn’t mean your coughing didn’t go unnoticed though. Your coughs were loud enough that Toga and Spinner came to ask if you were okay a couple times. You told them you were and that you were just sick and that you would get better soon.

‘If by better then you mean dead.’

You shook your head before putting your head into your pillow. Effectively screaming into it out of frustration. How in the ever loving hell where you going to get rid of this damn thing if you couldn’t keep him out of your mind?

~~~

Day 14

You felt like shit. Your entire being just felt weak in general. There were bags under your eyes and more little flowers covering your face. If it were glued on and not attached to your skin, you would have thought it as cute. Now? You hated them, you hated yourself. What would your parents think? Seeing you dying over a man that doesn’t love you back. unknowingly killing you from afar.

A knock came at your door and before thinking you said come in. Your eyes went wide and before you could change your mind Dabi walked in and locked the door behind him.

“How long did you think you could hide huh?” Dabi said as he sat on the bed next to you. He may not have shown it but he was worried. He had known your little thing for Shigaraki but he didn’t know it would be this bad.

“I don’t know. How can I get rid of it when I can’t even look Shigaraki in the face. He would think I’m weak.” You said before coughing up another flower. This time blood was seen covering some of the petals. 

“Shit this is worse then I originally thought. It’s at stage three already. Yours is progressing insanely fast. What will it take to realize that he doesn’t love you.” You knew Dabi meant good with his words but you couldn’t help but feel a little bit of your love for him chip away.

Which caused a flower to fall off of your face.

“That’s it.” Dabi said as he picked up the flower and held it in his hands. You look at him with your brow raised.

“Stay here. But before I do what im about to do, just know I’m doing this to save your life understand?” You nod worried about what he’s planning. All you can do is sigh and hold your pillow closer to your chest as you waited to see what Dabi had in store.

~~~

Day 16

You laid in you bed watching some netflix when Shigaraki barged into your room with an angry look. Your eyes widen as you clung to the sheets you had wrapped yourself in.

“So I’m hearing that you love me.” He made it sound like a statement rather then a question. You look all over in the room to avoid his gaze. You shut your eyes only to have your head jerked towards shigaraki, making you look into his crimson eyes.

“Well news flash, I don’t feel the same way.” You swore you could have felt your heart drop in his stomach. Tears rimmed your eyes as Shigaraki looked all around your face noticing all your flowers. Looking into your eyes noticing how they were slowly turning white, making him let out a little chuckle.

“Your pathetic, you let something like love get in the way of my goal? Your so selfish you know?” Your tears were falling at this point. Blurring your vision while you felt a strong pain on your cheek. Shigaraki had ripped off a flower. A pink rose that bloomed on your right cheek.

“I find this hilarious honestly, look at you, needing my validation. When guess what bitch? Your not getting any. And you never will so you might as well tear off all these flowers off your disgusting face.” You couldn’t say anything before pain filled your entire being as Shigaraki picked off every flower that covered your face and neck, leaving you bleeding. 

You feel a light feeling in your chest as you felt like you could breathe again. the flowers that bloomed on your shoulder were slowly withering away. The feeling off something in your throat went away as well as all the flowers that bloomed on your body that was still left had withered and fell off. Your once blurred vision now crystal clear as you looked Shigaraki right in the eyes.

“Look better. Now if i ever see another flower on your face or in your room I’ll dust you myself understand?” You nod your head yes before Shigaraki let go of your face.

You hid yourself under the covers in order to avoid his gaze. Not seeing the little face of sadness that crossed his face.

~~~

“Did you do it?” Dabi asked Shigaraki when he saw him leave your room.

“No shit sherlock.” Shigaraki said as he walked past him only to be stopped by Dabi’s arm.

“It was for the best. She would have died if you didn’t.” Dabi spoke softly  before taking his arms away, Not looking Shigaraki in the eyes.

“I know.”

Shigaraki walked away before going to his room. Once he stepped in he closed the door behind him before falling to the floor. He threaded his hands in his hair before pulling out all the flowers he had taken from your face. Each one of them a different color. A cold feeling entered his heart, knowing that you were suffering because of him.

He had to remain strong. He couldn’t have love be in the way. At least that’s when he told himself at first. 

Ever since you showed up at the bar that faithful day, he knew he had to have you. He knew that he needed you. Why else would his heart beat so fast when you walked past. He always imagined you by his side, sitting on his throne with him. his queen of the villains.

If only he had confessed sooner. If he had he would not have to see you dying in your room because of it. Watching your life slowly slip from your eyes as the days passed by. You were hurting because of his stupid mistake.

And now he had to suffer the consequences. 

He held your flowers close to his face. They smelled of you. Reminding him of the deed he had just done. Tears hit the petals of the flowers, effectively collecting shigaraki’s tears. It hurt. Why did it have to hurt so bad.

A blue poppy was slowly growing on Shigaraki’s neck.

[chilling-seavey]

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - The Fight

A/N With Hope’s intense google doc analysis of trying to piece together Daniel and Avalon’s fight through his flashbacks, I figured I should give you the real thing!

“Your ignorance is fucking incredible, Daniel James!”

Her words were venomous, punctuated by the slam of the front door the moment we stepped back inside the house. I was still trying to put my wallet in my pocket after paying the taxi driver, showing exactly how quickly she decided to snap back at me after we already endured a terribly tense flight home. Yet, apparently a simple question of “are you okay” was completely disgusting of me to ask.

“You can’t just lose your temper like this every time you get a bit upset, Avalon! I’m just trying to talk to you.” I called as calmly as I could as I set my computer bag on the kitchen island.

She grabbed herself an empty glass from the cupboard and slammed the door shut before turning on the tap aggressively. Her brown eyes glared daggers in my direction over the rim of the glass as she raised it to her lips to take a sip and the diamond ring on her left hand caught the light of the late evening setting sun coming in through the window. Flickers of orange light writhed on the marble countertop between us and died when she lowered her hand out of the incoming rays.

There was a moment of silence as the beginnings of this obvious inevitable fight lingered between us.

“Trying to talk to me?” she repeated my words slowly as she stepped around the island, water glass held in both hands as if she was ready to interrogate me, “Well, gee, Daniel, that’s the first time in days you’ve even bothered.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I frowned.

“You spent most of our honeymoon with your laptop and your goddamn work rather than with me.”

I sighed, “Ava, come on, you know I had to-”

“No! You didn’t have to do anything! The only thing you had to do was relax for the first time in your goddamn life but that was too much to ask, wasn’t it? God…stupid me.” she shook her head in near disbelief, “I thought you might have actually given a shit about me once we got to Costa Rica but apparently, I was wrong.”

A rouge was rising on her sun-tanned cheeks, a clear indication of her true anger she felt, but her accusations weren’t making it easy for me to simply let her have this one. It was a fight we had before and were probably destined to again. It just came with the job.

“Give a shit about you? Avalon, you’re my fucking wife, of course I give a shit about you! You were the one complaining about wanting to leave the entire time. That doesn’t make the trip very fucking enjoyable.”

“You weren’t around me!” she yelled, tapping her hand against the cup in her hand so the sound of her ring against the glass punctuated each of her words. “What person wants to spend their honeymoon alone? Of course, I wanted to go home! I was basically there by myself and I was miserable!”

“I had to get some shit done! Jonah needed me to double check a few things while we were away. It’s not the end of the world and I’m sorry if you feel that way!”

I could see her visibly tense and she turned her head so she didn’t have to look at me, jabbing under her breath, “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it? ‘Always gotta get some shit done’. Well, I’m sick and tired of coming second to your work all the time.”

“Well what do you want me to do?! Do you not like having this house and a nice car and that huge fucking diamond on your finger? Well sorry to break it to you, honey, but without this job, you wouldn’t have any of that!”

“There you go again!” Avalon threw her hand up in my direction, “It’s not all about your fucking money, Daniel! I don’t care about that! I would even be perfectly happy living on the side of the fucking street with you because I love you! None of this other shit that you think is required for a happy and fulfilling life; because – news flash – it’s not!”

“Well it makes me pretty damn happy.”

“Oh really? Are you happy now? Huh? Does this make you fucking happy?”

“Yes! Because at least my house or my car doesn’t spew this fucking bullshit at me all the time!” I yelled back.

Avalon literally scoffed and took a step back, her voice lowered to a steady unimpressed drawl, “You’re a selfish prick, Daniel Seavey. I’m done trying to help you…you’re such a lost cause that…God…sometimes I wish I never married you.”

“Then why did you? If I make you so fucking miserable all the time! Are you that insecure that you’d rather be miserable with me than be alone? You can’t stand yourself either, can you?”

“Fuck you!”

“My brother always told me you were too fucking weak to be my wife…couldn’t handle the baggage that comes with the job.”

“Leave Christian out of this. He doesn’t know bull-fucking-shit about us and especially not about me. Neither of you know how hard it is!”

“It’s not hard, Avalon! You sit here and look pretty and I buy you sparkly things! It’s not fucking hard! You’re just being an obnoxious brat about everything, and you always have!”

“You invalidate my feelings all the time!” she yelled.

“You’re too goddamn sensitive! It’s not a big deal!” I shouted louder to top her.

“God, I fucking hate you!” she huffed. She turned to set the glass angrily on the kitchen counter but it fell and shattered on the kitchen floor between us, silencing our screaming match except for our heavy breaths and Avalon’s sniffled tears.

I sighed at the realization that the whole confrontation went on too far and I tried to reach for her, but she pulled her hand back and moved away from me, “Aves.”

“Don’t.” she snapped.

“Avalon, I’m sorry, I-”

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything.” she retorted sharply, yet I could hear the exhaustion in her voice. “I’m sleeping in the studio tonight.”

I swallowed thickly and nodded, glancing to the ground with a heavy heart, the pieces of broken glass shimmering in the kitchen light between us. She went to step around me but I instinctively reached out a hand to her to keep her back from accidently stepping on any broken glass, “Careful.”

“God, Daniel.” she huffed, “Please don’t.”

I didn’t make a move to stop her as she walked around me to storm across the living room and to the back door. She didn’t look back as she opened the sliding glass door and slipped out into the darkness that the falling night brought. I watched her disappear out of the house and into the backyard, her form fading from view like she had been a figment of my imagination the whole time, the cruelest most perfect kind of dream.

Oh, how I loved her. And I was so, so stupid.

I busied myself in her absence by bringing my laptop bag and our shared suitcase to the master bedroom and rested them against the wall just inside the door. I returned to the kitchen to clean up the broken glass and spilt water, glancing out the back door as if half expecting her to come back inside. I was met with darkness.

I squinted slightly to try and see the light from the backyard studio window but it was still pitch black. Odd. Usually you could see the light from the main house. I brushed it off that she simply went to bed early after such a fight and focussed on the broken glass. I had just crouched down to pick up the worst of it with a steady hand when the pling of the security camera peaked my attention. It rang steady from the monitor’s spot on the front counter and I headed over to it to check on the studio cameras, but the alarm was disarmed from the studio before I could reach it, sending the kitchen back into silence.

My phone buzzed in my pocket at that moment and I pulled it out to read the text from my older brother,

Did you get home okay?

I hesitated as I read his message, not particularly wanting to be honest with him and have to endure his confessions of his dislike of my new wife and her very personable opinions on my job. It was our private relationship and Christian seemed to like to weasel his nose into it sometimes. Ah, well. He meant well. Before I could decide if I wanted to answer him right away or not, I heard a faint scream from the backyard and my head shot up to look towards the sliding glass doors. I paused, expecting Avalon to come running in to ask me to kill a spider any moment now.

But there was nothing.

I pocketed my phone and walked briskly across the main floor of the house, broken glass forgotten, and slipped outside into the warm LA evening. The studio was only a few paces from the back porch and I jumped down the three steps and across the stone tiles to the door. I didn’t bother knocking before I went inside, the darkness that consumed me when I entered already adding more concern to my conscious, and I reached for the light switch blindly.

“Ava? I thought I heard you scream, are you-”

The scene that met my eyes with the flick of the switch had my breath stopping in my throat, my words falling into silence, and my heart dropping into my stomach. Avalon was laying over the rug across the small room, eyes staring blankly into the ceiling, and her throat slit until she was laying in a pool of her own blood.

“Aves.” I breathed shakily, taking a step towards her, then a second, “Avalon, honey…”

She wasn’t moving. I barely made it halfway across the studio but with my back to the door I had entered through, someone came up behind me and grabbed me, slapping their hand over my mouth and holding me down by an arm around my waist. I struggled and tried to get away but they had a good grip on me as they swiped my feet out from under me and took me to the ground. The sharp slam of my head hitting the side of the piano on the way down was the last sound in the room before I blacked out.

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @the-girl-who-cried-wolf​