#i might need more practice making finished pieces so back to the cave i go after this

[slugpup2]

wanted to get back onto touhou calendar, so it's a sakuya!

[oblivious-aro]

Girl Talk (Prequel to Where the Sky Meets the Sea)

So the final chapter of Where the Sky Meets the Sea is almost finished. It just needs one more good read through.

But...

I kind of went full self-indulgent mode, and commissioned a really cool drawing to go with it, but due to some issues with the timing, the drawing won't be ready for a bit, and I want to release the drawing with the chapter, because it's really really cool.

I feel bad about the long wait, so I whipped up this little mini-chapter/prequel.

Thank you all for your patience, and please enjoy this rewrite of the conversation between Misako and Nya from the beginning of Skybound, named after a terrible line from season 8.

Enjoy!

Word Count: ~2000

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After nearly five straight minutes of concentration, Jay moved his bishop to block the advance of one of Zane's pawns.

As Zane considered his move, Jay’s focus drifted over to Nya, who was currently locked in fierce battle with some wooden training dummies on the deck below them.

She’d been on the warpath ever since they got back from the PSA shoot. The one she hadn’t been invited to.

When she arrived at the studio, wondering what was going on, the producer offered to shoot her doing a make-up tutorial.

Hence the destructive mood.

“Jay,” Zane said “I’ve finished my turn.”

“Huh?”

“That means it’s your turn.”

“Oh, right!”

Jay snapped his head back to the chess board. He was currently working his knight up the board, and in just two more turns he’d be in position to pull off a manoeuvre that might give him a chance of actually beating-

Wait, where had his knight gone?

Jay spotted the little white horse nestled amongst the cluster of all of the other pieces Zane had captured.

Jay let out a sigh.

It didn’t look like he was winning this game either.

“So what’s that? A hundred games to one?”

Cole's voice nearly made Jay jump out of his seat. He swore Cole hadn’t been this good at sneaking up on him before he became a ghost.

“Hey!” Jay said “The game’s not over! I can still win this!”

Cole glanced at the board.

“Sure you can.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than standing around dissing my chess skills?”

“Actually, I have something really cool I wanted to show you guys!” Cole’s eyes lit up “Watch this!”

One second Cole was standing by Zane and Jay, and the next he had completely disappeared.

Jay didn’t notice Cole reappear behind him.

“Boo.” He whispered into his ear.

“Gah!” Jay instinctively punched behind him, his fist going right through Cole’s chest.

“Pretty cool, right?” Cole beamed once Jay had retracted his fist.

“Yeah, great new trick.” Jay said flatly, trying to rub the chill from his hand.

“Most impressive Cole.” Zane smiled “I’m sure this new ability will be a great asset in future missions.”

“And that’s not all,” Cole’s smile grew even wider “You remember the rest of you saw your future selves in that cave and I was all worried when I didn’t see anything? Well I guess it turned out I couldn’t see my reflection because future-me learned how to turn invisible, and not because I was a goner!”

“That’s wonderful news Cole!” Zane smiled, “You must be feeling very relieved.”

“Oh absolutely! I’ve been practically jumping for joy all morning!” Cole bounced on the balls of his feet “I’ll let you two get back to your game, I gotta find Kai and Lloyd and tell them the good news too!”

Cole practically skipped down the stairs in search of the other ninja.

“Well I’m glad someone’s happy about their vision.” Jay grumbled.

Zane raised an eyebrow.

“I would think you’d be more excited about finding out that our friend isn’t doomed.” he said.

“Maybe I’d be more excited for him if he wasn’t using his newfound abilities to try and give me a heart attack. Just because he’s not gonna die young anymore doesn’t mean that I want to.“ Jay moved a random pawn forward and turned back towards Nya.

“I’m sensing the vision you saw of you and Nya together in the future is on your mind?” Zane asked as he took Jay's queen with his pawn.

“Shh! Not so loud!” Jay reached over the board and covered Zane’s mouth, checking over his shoulder to make sure Nya and Cole hadn’t overheard.

Zane pushed his hand away.

“Perhaps it would relieve some of your stress to simply tell Nya about your vision?”

“Are you kidding? Nya would lose it if she heard about what I saw in the cave!” Jay sighed “She's already made it very clear she wants nothing to do with me.”

“Erm, if that’s the case, why have you been frequently making suggestive comments around her?”

“C-comments? What comments?” Jay asked nervously.

“Ever since our sojourn to the First Spinjitzu Master's tomb, your behaviour around Nya has noticeably changed. Especially in the last month, as the questions surrounding her love life have become more prevalent in the media.”

Jay groaned and banged his head on the table, making the chess pieces jump.

“Am I really that obvious?”

“Yes.”

Jay groaned again.

“I was fine until I saw that vision!” He rubbed his eyes with his palms. “I know Nya said she didn't want to get back together, but there's been this little spark of hope in me ever since I saw that we were together in the future.”

“Perhaps it would be better if you stopped your romantic advances and simply let things take their course. I can’t help but feel that pushing Nya in a direction she has expressed discomfort with will only achieve the opposite of your intended goal.”

“I know I should probably back off, but it's hard!” Jay said “Like, imagine if Pixal broke up with you, but you knew for sure the two of you would get back together. You couldn’t just sit there and pretend everything was normal, right?”

“If Pixal expressed a desire for a change in our relationship, I would respect her wishes.” Zane said indignantly.

“Never mind. You just wouldn't get it, it's different for you.”

Zane frowned and moved his rook.

“Checkmate.” he said with slightly more satisfaction than when he normally beat Jay.

“What?” Jay blinked “How'd you do that?”

“I pay attention.” Zane said smugly.

“Whatever.” Jay grumbled “Set the pieces back up! I know I can beat you this time!”

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

“Show girls how to put on makeup!” Nya growled as she attacked the training dummy with steadily faster and faster hits.

Thwump!

Thwack!

“Maybe you’re the one who needs your face rearranged!”

Nya’s frustration completely boiled over and her limbs turned into a violent blur of fury.

Smash!

Smash!

Crash!

The arm of the dummy Nya kicked severed from the torso with a burst of splinters.

She panted a few times before pulling her arm back to attack the next dummy.

“Something bothering you?”

Nya stopped mid-punch and turned to see Misako closing the door to the captain's quarters behind her.

“Everything's been awful every since I became the water ninja!” Nya replied angrily.

“No one ever said being a ninja would be easy.” Misako smiled warmly.

“It’s not being a ninja that’s the problem, it’s how people act about the fact that I’m a ninja! I mean, have you seen the media! If I ever forget that I’m the only girl ninja, there’s a thousand friendly reminders in every direction!”

“Oh I'm very familiar with the feeling.” Misako nodded knowingly. “The Explorer’s Club was a useful resource for my green ninja prophecy research, but being the first and only woman to be a member was certainly an alienating experience.”

Misako cleared her throat before speaking in a haughty voice.

“Introducing Percy Shippelton, one of the most courageous members of The Club; Smythe Smith, discoverer of The Hidden Isles of the Anacondrai; and Misako Montgomery, the first woman in The Explorer’s Club!” She said.

“Yes! Exactly!” Nya practically yelled “Why can’t people just give me the same chance they give the boys? Why does me being a girl make them act so…so weird?”

“I’m afraid most men just can't handle the idea of not being the stars of the show. It's not fair, but unfortunately life just isn’t fair.” Misako smiled sadly. “And when you’re faced with one of life's challenges, you can either lie down and give up, or stand tall and fight back.”

Nya frowned.

That wasn’t really what she'd been hoping to hear.

“It feels like all I ever do is fight back.” She said “Isn't there anything else I can do? Maybe something a little more of a permanent effect?”

Misako only smiled sadly.

“It's like I said, life just isn't fair. Being a woman is like being a ninja, there'll always be another enemy to fight. But it's not all doom and gloom.”

Misako put a hand on Nya's shoulder.

“The opinions of some sleazy reporters and the frothing masses drooling over their tacky magazines don't matter. You know they're wrong, and I know they're wrong. No matter what they say, I know you're a strong, incredibly clever, amazing ninja. Don't let what some nosy strangers have to say drag you down. Focus on your work, and lean on your friends, the ones who really understand and support you.”

“Honestly Misako, I'm not so sure they do understand me.”

“Boys can be a bit dumb sometimes,” Misako laughed “But they're still your friends. They do want to help you, even if they don't always understand how to do it.”

“I guess so.” Nya shrugged “But it would be nice if I didn't feel so alone all the time when I was with them, you know?”

“They'll get there. But in the meantime, I'm always here to talk when you're feeling alone.”

Nya blinked.

It hadn't really hit her until now that she'd never had another woman on the team she could talk to.

In fact, Nya couldn't remember there being a prominent woman in her life ever since she and Kai had struck out on their own.

Nya wasn't sure how she felt about that.

“Thanks Misako.” She said.

“Anytime.” Misako patted Nya's shoulder. “Now, I'd better get back to my research. I've been looking through Captain Soto's old journals, and I just found the most fascinating entry on one of their rival crews.”

Misako bent down and picked up one of the dummies Nya had knocked over.

“Now, don't hold back. Attack the manikins with just as much ferocity as you would use on a real foe. That's the best way to be prepared for the battles ahead.” she said, giving Nya one last smile before disappearing back into the captain's quarters.

Nya stared at the closed door for a bit.

She half-heartedly kicked one of the dummies over before turning and walking away.

She was still full of anger, as well as a slew of other confusing emotions, but taking it out on the training dummies felt pointless.

It was nice that there was another woman on the team who understood what Nya had to put up with, and she was grateful that Misako had come out to talk to her, but her words hadn't exactly filled Nya with a lot of hope for the future.

Was she really going to spend the rest of her life knocking down dummies only for someone to keep setting them up?

Nya's musings were interrupted when she noticed Jay looking at her.

Perhaps his attention had only been drawn by the noise of Nya’s training exercises/rageful venting, but all of the weird comments Jay had been making the past few weeks flashed through Nya's mind as they locked eyes.

She had no patience for Jay right now.

“What are you looking at?” she snapped.

“N-nothing!” Jay yelped, turning back to his chess game with Zane.

Before Nya could get much farther, Wu came running on deck calling for all the ninja.

“Ninja! Come quick! There's been an emergency!”

After a quick briefing from Wu, the ninja were off on a mission to find out how Clouse had escaped from The Cursed Realm, and what he was up to.

Nya was glad for the distraction, as well as the opportunity to turn her anger into something productive.

Maybe after they'd taken care of Clouse, Nya's head would be a bit clearer, and she could have a more in-depth conversation with Misako.

[siriannatan]

A random thing

I was going through my files and found a couple of very similar fics so I mashed them together and finished that and here is the result...

AO3

(I might be considering posting the whole thing at once...)

In the past several hundred years he's lived Scott has never regretted something as much as going on a two years long self-imposed exile leaving Rivendell to his recently no longer possessed by evil demon older brother. It just made sense, Xornoth was the older one and Scott ruled for so long and needed to practice his ice magic now that it got a lot stronger with gods blessings and all that... Apparently, Xornoth hated ruling enough to just run away leaving the place to the council. The council saw fit to not tell anyone about there being no king on the elven throne. They actively hid that little piece of information.

And they had the audacity to try and kill him when he arrived to check up on things and maybe offer some advice. Being tired of them even before he left he did the most logical thing and froze them and left the resulting statues in his front garden. A little warning if anyone annoyed him. His decision was shockingly popular among the elven populace. Or maybe they were just happy to have stability? 

Eh. Not that anyone could complain seeing that the Lord Emperor's crown was currently fWhip's and he was known for hanging his councils. And creepy head displays his dragon brain apparently craved. Scott was not too shocked the damned crown moved from Katherine to fWhip. Just that there wasn't a big war about it, just a simple duel. At least according to what he heard from Katherine herself when making rounds to re-establish himself as a ruler. Leaving fWhip for the last visit just... because of preferences. And history.

What shocked him much more was finding the Cod Empire deserted. Logically he went to see if maybe Lizzie knew where he could find Jimmy. She had no idea. Jimmy just one day said he and his empire would be hiding for a bit in the deepest caves under the swamp, with passages too narrow and complicated for any of the Ocean Empire's merfolk. She grumbled something about cod gods being weird and Scott was on his way to visit the last person he ever wanted to see - Lord Emperor, Count of Grimlands, fWhip.

Grimlands has not changed at all in the past two years. Dark roofs and walls. Citizens were too busy with whatever it was they were doing to pay much attention to a winged elf dressed in blue white and gold. He luckily found a guard that somewhat reluctantly led him to fWhip's town office. And even more, reluctantly left him alone with the count when ordered to leave with a snappy command from behind the door. With a heavy sigh, Scott walked in. 

fWhip didn't change much. The Lord's crown was awkwardly askew on his head due to his horns. His wings grew a bit since they spontaneously sprouted out after the ender dragon was defeated. His jacket was carelessly tossed over a couch in a corner. And the redhead himself was pouring over a thick stack of papers. Luckily for Scott, he seemed too busy to keep Scott for all that long. He looked quite tired when he looked up at Scott.

He could not miss fWhip's famous crossbow mounted over the fireplace and the thin layer of dust on it. Or a table of half-finished contraptions and weirdly orderly organised tools. He remembered from visiting fWhip's workshop it was not an organised space. More of an organised mess where no one but fWhip knew what was where. Why did he even have his tinkering stuff in the office if he had a workshop?

"Oh... You're back... Is your brother still in charge or are..." fWhip asked flipping through some of the piles of paper on his desk. Scott guessed he did his best to not show how glad he was to have a break from all the papers.

"I am, since Xor ran away to Joey's and left the council in charge, they kept that a secret, of course," Scott explained the situation. "I froze them since they tried to kill me."

fWhip nodded, briefly glancing at the pile of papers. "I'm going to assume it was longer than at most two days ago?" he asked and Scott nodded. "I... I apologise I was rather busy lately. Being Lord Emperor comes with..."

"I know, I wore that crown once," Scott stopped him. A bit colder than he intended but he did just find out his best ally - friend if he dares to say - was hiding in a cavern for some Cod-Cult reasons. And he did wear the thing some two hundred years ago. And never wanted to repeat that... "I hope you heard about the Cod Empire pretty much vanishing?"

"Yes. Jimmy sent me a letter. Something about tradition and religion," fWhip sighed. It was clear that Lizzie already bothered him about it, and a lot too. "I'm sure he'll be back eventually, maybe even soon, he has been gone almost as long as you were, after all," he added as if it wasn't big news. He probably assumed Scott already knew. 

It took all of Scott's self-control to not ask more questions. Worry and almost fear washed over him all at once. Did Jimmy do something dumb because he left? Maybe it was just some cod tradition and had nothing to do with Scott? Maybe Jimmy didn't want to worry him? Could he have been hoping to be done before Scott was back? Could be... 

"I'll be going home now, I took enough of your time, Lord Emperor," Scott would be the first to say it was a bit stiff but his relationship with fWhip was nothing if not stiff, cold and awkward.

fWhip did not even try to keep him and soon Scott was on his way back home. He skipped visiting Joey and Xornoth for now. He was tired and had a country to run. A country his brother all but abandoned for a second time and Scott needed to get back in order after nearly two years of advisors and council members backstabbing each other and everyone else.

It was weird to be in Rivendell Castle and not have the council and advisors nagging him. It also meant he had to do some more work on his own. He slightly regretted sending maids to gather all the paperwork from his advisors and councilmen while he was out. It meant, once he had his afternoon tea and dainty cakes, Katherine was nice enough to invite him in for lunch, and he had no excuse to not start working. At least a lot of it was just looking over paperwork and deciding what he needed to keep and what could be used to warm his castle.

Big chunk was just back-and-forth letters between the now garden statues. Some would need him to talk to other rulers and people in town. Yet others were nonsense ideas he could just toss away and burn. There was still a big chunk that needed his seal and signature to be ratified or cancelled and brought to how it used to be. Some just put away n proper spots in the archive. In short, he was faced with several piles of documents, letters and other paperwork he needed to look through. He was never this glad to fully control the new levels of ice magic Aeor blessed/ cursed him with than when the maids kept warm tea and snacks coming and tended the fire.

It was several hours into the night and only two out of five paper stacks later that he decided it was not worth losing sleep over and requested for a bath and his bed to be readied. He'd at least get the bed himself but he was tired from the trip back, and all the visits he had to make. It was just not an option today. And he still had to preen his wings even if he could hide them with magic, only perk of being a god's chosen champion and having boosted magic. He really wished Jimmy wasn't in some damp cave at the moment. Scott would not mind getting Jimmy's help with preening... Maybe fWhip... No. He was damn busy with even more stuff than Scott ever was as Lord Emperor.

The next morning gave Scott a lot more energy to work. Having couple of years of a break in being a ruler, for the first time in the five hundred years he's lived. Even a pile of fresh mail did not deter him from looking forward to having a productive day. At least until he started opening it while waiting for breakfast. The maids forbade him from cooking.

His enthusiasm dropped as he looked through the letters. He had a week, only one week, not even a full week, just five days until the rulers meeting at Grimlands. Then there was a whole bunch inquiries about trade routes he already looked through or was about to today. And... The mage's tower said that through the past two years since Demon Xornoth was defeated and by extension Exor, elves started showing signs of magic. Apparently, the advisors and council ignored that fact. Scott wondered if it was because of the Cliffs. Gem would not like him having a magic school. Even if elven magic was very different from other races.

It used to be all elves had magic. Until about a hundred years before Scott was born that is. No one knew why but Scott, and the few remaining elven mages in the tower, theorised it was because of Exor. Not all elves were talented mages of great powers but still could use simple spells. Gem would hate it so much but Scott needed his citizens to be safe with this new power and would not send them to Gem. She had no idea, with all due respect, how elven magic works. 

"Maybe I can get to fWhip before she finds out?" he wondered as breakfast was served for him. "I could explain it..."

"Sir? Your brother and Emperor Joey came for a visit?" a guard broke him from his thoughts over a jam-filled puff pastry. Scott was the Elven King and could have dessert for breakfast if he so desired. 

Scott sighed. Of course, they already found out he was back. "Let them in," he shrugged. He might have been a bit cross with his brother but he'd not just send him away. He was still his brother no matter how upset Scott was. And he gave him a proper pretext to freeze his council and advisors.

"Just got back and already redecorating?" 

Scott barely looked up from his letters and food as he heard his brother's voice. "That's the council and advisors, they tried killing me," he said as if he was talking about the weather. Which, speaking of it was nice and pleasant day, perfect for another flight to the Grimlands. "Sorry I didn't visit yesterday, they left a big mess behind," he sighed just realising something. "Mia?" he called one of the maids.

"Oh... Sorry about that..." Xornoth muttered hiding behind Joey. "They kind of freaked me out and... I'm not a good ruler..."

"Obviously," Scott nodded as a maid came in with a polite 'yes sir?' "I'll be visiting lord emperor to talk about one thing, I'd like the last two years brought from the archives for review. And if there is a time I'd appreciate if all of those and the other remaining paperwork could be segregated by type and date, I think it might make dealing with it easier. And maybe any old laws about magic and anything that was added after it vanished? But that's low priority," he listed out all the things he could think of to make his life easier. "Get as many hands as you can, we need all the papers in order before the meeting," he waved the letter with fWhip's seal.

"We'll get to it as soon as we can," the maid bowed and left to inform fWhip he'd be having a guest.

"Back not even a day and already working so hard?" Joey cringed with a sigh. 

"As I said, the advisors made a big mess, the faster I have it under control the better," Scott shrugged.

Joey and Xornoth didn't stay long, they stopped on their way to discuss something with Sausage and Scott was glad for that. It gave him some time to get presentable to visit fWhip and gather all the thoughts on the matter he needed to talk about. He just hoped fWhip would listen to him. And that no one else was visiting him this early into the day. Like his sister for example...

Once he has eaten and was presentable enough Scott flew off towards Grimlands taking in the freedom of not having to have to tell any councils or advisors where he was going, why, and for how long. It felt nice. Maybe he wouldn't need a break as badly as he did if it was always like that. fWhip had a good idea of getting rid of his council.

All the relaxation from the flight was gone as soon as he landed. He wasn't here for fun but to talk about important things. And this time guards were a lot less hostile, almost instantly leading him to fWhip's office. The power of sending a warning letter? Or... Gem already knew and bothered fWhip about it? That could be bad... All his worries got pushed back a bit when he saw fWhip. The count looked very tired, with even messier hair and clothes more crinkled than the last day. Yawning widely as he drank something Scott doubted was tea. "Hello Scott, you got here fast..."

"I... I think I might have missed your message," Scott chuckled awkwardly as he took a seat. Gem certainly already noticed something. "I was coming over anyway to talk about an important thing happening at Rivendell." 

"How about you go first? In case it's the same thing?" fWhip offered leaning back. Scott caught a slight glance towards a clock above the door. The tinkering table was, as far as Scott could tell, just as dusty as it was yesterday. If he was honest... it seemed like fWhip himself didn't really leave his chair.

"Well... In the past six hundred years no elf was born with magic and now all the elves in Rivendell are slowly getting magic. Both I and the few mages we still have, think it had to do with Exor being defeated and all that," Scott had no reason to hide anything. "The thing about elves and magic is," he continued as fWhip remained silent. "It's different than with humans. Most elves have very little magic, just enough for some lights and sparkles, not all elves have a lot of talent... I'm worried how Gem might react."

"Elves won't be too eager to train at the Cliffs, not that they can fit every elf ever..." fWhip muttered.

"And elven magic is different from human magic as we saw with Gem trying to train me," Scott quickly added. It would seem that fWhip was leaning toward his side. "We have few mages still alive, elves live a long time, they can teach the populace how to control it and pick out anyone with a talent and help them further...."

"But Gem won't like you basically having a magic school..." fWhip sighed. "I must say, your idea is much better... Especially since... When do even young elves develop magic?"

"Some as young as barely two are already showing signs and my mages are secretly teaching their parents how to cope. The council was sweeping it all under a rug... Why I had to go to Gem with my magic problems, they would not allow me to meet the mages. Law stuff to keep them safe," Scott said, pulling out a copy of the mages report. "All we know is here. And I'm willing to modify any laws to do with magic..."

"That's good. And if we mention children, as much as I hate doing that, we might have Katherine and maybe even Pearl on our side, this will need a discussion at the meeting, Gem will not have it any other way," fWhip nodded, noting something furiously. "Honestly, this is great, Lizzie and Gem have been fighting about mages for ages..." he sighed. "You just might have given me a solution," he gave Scott a tired grin.

"Sure, it's important for me too so..." Scott fumbled a bit. He was used to fWhip's mischievous smirks, not tired smiles. "I... I should probably go back to cleaning up the mess I came to... let you rest a bit."

fWhip chuckled a bit sadly. "Yeah, rest, sure, will do that," he nodded but instantly came back to work.

Scott hated to just leave while fWhip was overworking himself but he himself was guilty of doing exactly the same, for like three hundred years too. So he'd be a hypocrite if he did. He wasn't Jimmy, he was no good at helping others or even caring for himself, not without maids... Or Jimmy... He missed him a lot more than he thought...

The flight back and cool, mountain air helped him calm down before he dove back into the even bigger now mountain of papers. There were so many he had to move to what used to be the council meeting room to have it all there and available. While working on all that he also started quiet preparations for 'magic school'. Nothing Gem would notice but enough to not waste time and fWhip was apparently taking his side. 

It took him pretty much all the time he still had to finish with all the paperwork, and there was nothing new from fWhip, but he managed to have an early evening the night before the rulers meet. He was slightly sad there was still no news on Cod Empire or Jimmy. Well... at least Scott was immortal meaning he had all the time in the world to wait...

[peachmercury6]

Metamorphosis {Goblin Slayer x OC}

Pairing: Goblin Slayer x Fem!OC

Summary: Em is a mage with a past she either repressed or cannot remember. When she foolishly joins a porcelain ranked group to defeat goblins, things go awry until she meets Goblin Slayer.

Words: 2,747

Chapter 1: The Cave

“Em, you must run. Forget about me,” the woman said, her hands on Em’s face. “Just run.” Em shook her head in response which only made the woman more frustrated. “Remember what I said before…? How running away doesn’t help matters? Well, this time, it does.” She removed her gloves from her hands, caressing Em’s cheek.

Em woke up, drenched in sweat from her forehead to her neck. She started trembling. Just remembering that night specifically made her ill. She sat back in her bed, trying to process the nightmare for a moment. I haven’t dreamt of her in a long time, she thought, remembering the woman’s face well. Her mother.

She had long black hair, like Em’s that she wore in a bun most of the time. During the night of the goblin invasion, she forced Em to run away while she stayed back, despite protesting she wanted to stay with her mother. In the end, the only thing she remembered was the fire in the village, and the sound of people’s screams getting further away. Water Town did not help her. They only brought her to an orphanage.

Em decided enough was enough. She leapt straight out of bed that morning. Her Mentor, who sipped on her tea, waited for her at the kitchen table. “Morning, my ugly one,” her Mentor said, as she finished the last bit of her drink. She scowled, hating when she was called that, but it was how the damn woman was since she started training Em. “You know what today is?”

“No,” Em said, leaning against the wall, and crossing her arms.

“The day I set you free.”

Em blinked. “Wait… you’re –”

“You want experience? Go out and become an Adventurer.” Her Mentor pointed toward the door; a smile etched on her lips.

“You – I thought you said I wasn’t ready.”

“Did I? Well, we will have to see about that.” Em was a little confused. The other day her Mentor lectured her about how Em was not ready to engage in combat. “You know how spells work, don’t you?” Em hesitated but nodded. “Then get a move on.” She was practically shoved out the door with a small baggage of potions for health, and mana.

She might have just said ‘don’t let the door hit you on the way out’, Em thought, sighing. Her best bet was to head to Water Town, since it was the closest, but it was still an hour away. She kept looking back at the home she lived in with her Mentor, watching as it grew further and further away. It was once a silo before it became their ‘home’. Maybe she should not have looked back so often but apart of her wished her Mentor would have come out and told her she was joking. No such luck.

Em made it to Water Town in one piece. Her stomach was growling, as she had not yet eaten since she was kicked out with such haste. She’d need to go on an adventure and earn money on her own. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as she thought.

She walked into the Guild Hall, surprised to see so many Adventurers in a line, or in a group talking to each other about the current quests on the board. She wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to do at first until she noticed a girl with long blonde hair – no older than fifteen, approach the counter, saying she wanted to become an Adventurer. Maybe I do that? She thought.

She stood in line, waiting for her turn. It went by slower than expected, but she did eventually get to the front, where she was greeted by a young woman with blonde hair, wearing a side braid over her shoulder. “Hello there! How can I help you?” the woman asked, smiling.

“I… I… was wondering how I become an Adventurer?” Em said, a bit shyly. She could hear a few laughs from people behind her, but she ignored them.

“Oh, wonderful! You just need to fill these forms and then I will review it.”

Em nodded. She filled out the form quickly enough, making sure her writing was legible enough. She handed the form back the woman. “Ah, your name is Em?” She nodded. “And you’re… a mage I see. Where did you learn your skills?”

“My mentor taught me fire and lightning magic,” Em said. “I have been learning since I was twelve.”

“And how old are you now?”

“Twenty.”

She nodded again. She got up from her desk and came back with a tag. It had the words ‘porcelain’ engraved on it. The woman explained everything, from what the ranks meant on the necklace to how Adventurers rank up within the Guild. “And if you have any more questions, please don’t hesitate. You can call me Guild Girl.”

Em smiled at her. “Thank you, Miss.”

Now she needed to figure out what quest to take on the board. She looked at it for a bit, not sure if she should fight a dragon or if she should start with fighting rats in the sewers. “What a choice to make,” she muttered, scratching her head.

“Hey – you!” someone said behind her. Em turned around, seeing a boy with brown hair with a sword behind him. He was wearing good armor for his rank. “Are you porcelain, too?” Behind him was a girl with black hair in a ponytail, and a red-haired mage with a wizard hat on her head. The same blonde girl was also with them as well.

Em nodded. “I am. Why?”

“We need more people in our group, would you like to join us?”

“Sure, but what are you guys?”

“Warrior,” he said. He pointed to the black-haired female. “That’s fighter, and beside her is Female Mage, and… Priestess, right?” He glanced at the blonde-haired girl, who nodded at him.

“You guys have a mage? I am also a mage.”

The female mage scoffed at her. “You are a mage?” she said in disbelief. “I never saw you in the academy!”

“I didn’t train in the academy,” Em replied, now a bit annoyed.

“But you know magic, right?” Warrior asked.

“Yeah, I do. Fire and lightning. So far.” Female Wizard rolled her eyes. Em ignored her.

“Well, more the merrier. Welcome aboard… uh – what’s your name?”

“Em.”

They approached Guild Girl, handing in their quest. Apparently, Warrior wanted to fight goblins as it was the easiest of all the quests. Guild girl seemed a little hesitant for some reason but told them the information they needed to know.

There is five of us. How bad can it be? Em thought.

*

The group was merry although Priestess seemed a bit nervous. Em understood her anxiety, especially if this was also her first quest in the Guild Hall. Fighter seemed to be on good terms with Warrior and Wizard. Did they know each other before? Why would they need two porcelain ranks to help them? You could never be too careful…

They entered the cave without hesitation. Wizard and Priestess both had torches to light up the dark cave.

At one point Warrior and Fighter were talking when they stopped in front of a strange construct in front of them… What appeared as a banner with a skull on top of it or… a totem? Who or what the skull belonged to; nobody knew. “A goblin sex toy?” it was Warrior who spoke.

Em raised her eyebrow at the term. “What the hell is a goblin sex toy?!” she exclaimed.

He shrugged. “Who knows.”

Wizard was becoming impatient. She urged the group to keep going, even nudging at Priestess who was muttering a prayer. Em stuck close with them, trying her best not to panic despite the weird totem they just saw.

The stench in the cave was getting worse as they went further into it. Em could not put her finger on why, but it smelled familiar. Like corpses. Like… death. A flashback to her running from her small village and looking back at the flames. Em shook her head, although it sent a chill down her spine.

“Quit staring into space,” Wizard snapped at her. “Or you’ll get us all killed.”

Em quickly got out of it. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just keep moving.”

Priestess was looking behind them frequently. Wizard glared at her, frowning. “What? Is there something on my face?”

The young girl shook her head. “N-No, I thought I heard something behind us.” Em turned around, stopping her movements. She listened to what Priestess might have heard. Several sounds of… something running towards them.

“Now listen,” Wizard said. “We’ve been going straight as an arrow since we entered this cave, right? What could possibly be behind us?!”

Em’s eyes widened, spotting several goblins behind them. All of them raced towards the group in a matter of seconds. Before she could react, Wizard conjured a fire spell aiming directly at the goblins, but it was too late. Goblins pushed her down. Priestess backed away, screaming, while Em followed her. The goblins destroyed Wizard’s staff without batting an eye. What do I do?

One of the goblins stabbed Wizard in the stomach, causing her to scream in agony. No. I have to do something. “Stay away!” she screamed, conjuring a fireball in her hands and throwing it at them. However, the fireball bounced off the cave ceiling. Any other fire spell might hurt Wizard in the process.

Em pushed the goblins off Wizard or at least tried, to, only for them to come after her as well. Just in time, Warrior jumped in, swinging his sword at them, and cutting at least one or two Goblins. Either way, they were distracted by him. Em rushed to Wizard, kneeling beside her. “It’ll be okay – “Em tried to say. “Priestess, can you heal her?”

Priestess nodded, as Fighter urged her to use her magic quickly while she helped Warrior fight the goblins. Em held Wizard’s hand tightly. “Don’t worry, you’re safe – we will protect you,” she said, but even she was not sure of her own words.

She glanced at Warrior fighting the goblins. He was really going at it, but when he swung his sword, its tip hit the cave’s ceiling. The goblins didn’t even hesitate. They butchered him as he laid there screaming for mercy. Em covered her mouth, trembling in fear with Priestess.

“You three run!” Fighter shouted.

Em knew Wizard would die if she did not receive any healing. She took out one of her healing potions, using it on the injured Wizard. That, and combined with Priestess’ magic, it could work and live to see another day. “O Earth Mother abounding in Mercy…” Priestess began chanting, as Em squeezed Wizard’s hand.

Fighter was already on the goblins, punching and kicking anyone that came her way. She was a formidable fighter, and she seemed angry from Warrior’s death. But was it enough? All Em could do was watch as Fighter attempted to kick a much bigger, and stronger goblin, only for it to stop her foot in motion. The goblin sent her flying into the wall, rendering her weak as the rest of the goblins tore her clothes off.

She shouted at the three of them to run. Em didn’t know what to do. She helped Wizard up with Priestess. Wizard appeared weak still, on the verge of death. Priestess laid her down, trying to chant another spell, when something hit her in the back.

Em used the flames from the torches they carried, watching as the flames were absorbed through her fingertips without hurting her. She made sure each goblin got a fistful of flames to the face. But it stopped abruptly, and she was thrown to the ground, a goblin’s hands around her throat. She gasped for air, her hands grabbing a solid item beside her. A rock. Perfect. She hit the goblin choking her in the head.

But now she and Priestess were in the corner, unable to do anything as more and more goblins approached them. She held the young girl’s hand tightly. “I won’t let them hurt you,” Em said to her.

Priestess cried out for her as Em approached the goblins, shouting for her to get back. She was ready for them. In a matter of seconds one of the goblins attacked her, pushing her against the wall and rendering her unconscious.

*

I can’t do anything. Em was surrounded by complete and utter darkness. Was she dead? She looked around. Where was Priestess…? And Wizard? And Fighter? No… were they all… dead? She called out for them, but nobody answered her. There were no goblins either. She was alone. Em felt a hand touch her shoulder and she jumped, seeing her mother, exactly as she saw her before her death. “You need to wake up.”

“Mother?” she whispered.

“It’s not your time.”

And she woke up, this time not alone. Priestess kneeled beside her, tending to Wizard’s injuries, but she heard another voice – a deeper voice. There was a man dressed in complete silver armor, urging Priestess not to bother healing Wizard. Priestess protested but Wizard seemed to be able to agree with the armored man.

“Please… kill me,” Wizard whispered.

“No!” Em exclaimed, to both Priestess and the armored man’s surprise. “There’s still time – we can save her.”

“She’s too far gone,” the armored man said.

Em glared at him for a moment. She didn’t know who he was or how he found them… but she was not going to allow him to kill Wizard.

“She’s been poisoned,” he continued, and without further words, he used his own sword to plunge it into Wizard’s body. Em jumped, shocked by what he just did.

“Why the hell did you do that for?!” Em exclaimed at him. “Who do you think you are?”

“Goblin Slayer,” he replied.

Em looked to Priestess, wondering what happened while she was out. “He saved us,” Priestess told her. “The Goblins are gone now.”

“Yes,” Goblin Slayer replied nonchalantly. Em stared at Fighter, who had her clothes completely ripped off. Em took off her cloak, placing it over Fighter. What happened to her? Was Fighter… Em’s eyes widened, as she put two and two together. She heard stories of what Goblins do to women, but she shrugged it off as a mere urban legend to scare children. What is going on? She thought.

She clenched her jaw as Priestess explained more about the situation. Em helped Fighter up to her feet, slowly guiding her out of the cave with Priestess and Goblin Slayer. She couldn’t believe he killed Wizard without any sort of remorse or second thought, but he did save her, Priestess and Fighter. “Are you okay?” Em asked Priestess, even though inside she knew the girl was far from okay.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m glad we made it out.”

“Me too.”

Goblin Slayer was quiet the whole journey back to Water Town, and if he did respond, it was usually a one worded answer. “You have experience in fighting goblins?” she asked him, wondering if he would talk to her.

“Yes,” he said. “For about five years.”

Priestess seemed amazed by it, her eyes widening like a child meeting her idol. Em was impressed but she tried not to let him know.

In Water Town, Priestess made sure Fighter got the help she needed, while Em and Goblin Slayer headed back to the Guild Hall. Guild Girl smiled at them at first. “You… you’re back,” she said to Em. “Where are the others?”

Em sighed. “They didn’t make it except for Priestess, Fighter and I.”

Guild Girl nodded, her smile faltering. “I’m sorry. You completed the quest, right?”

She pointed at Goblin Slayer, who towered over her. “Thanks to him, yes,” Em said.

“I’m glad,” she said. She handed them their payment, which wasn’t a lot but enough for Em to finally eat something.

She parted ways with Goblin Slayer, not paying much mind to him, although she was grateful for what he did for her in the cave. She wished she had been conscious to at least help them fight off the goblins but it was too late. The damage was done. Maybe we will meet again one of these days, Em thought, deciding to head back home.

She had a bone to pick with her Mentor.

[butwhyduh]

Dead Clown 🤡

Jason todd x reader

Warning: smut, murder but it’s okay.

Jason pulled his helmet off and ignored the rain that poured down his face. He had to see this without a filter. He even considered taking off the domino mask but he was out in the open. The pouring freezing rain had him shivering but Jason was unaware. He literally couldn’t believe the sight before him.

The joker was laying in his back, the pasty skin on his forehead was marred by 2 small holes. The back of his stupid green hair looked almost black when mixed with blood. Blood and water mixed in a pink puddle around his head. Jason forced himself to check for a pulse before hitting his comms.

“Bats, you need to get down here,” he said in a shocked voice. “The joker is dead.”

“..... are you okay,” Bruce said in a measured voice.

“I’m fine. He was dead when I got here,” Jason added knowing he was number one suspect.

“On the way.”

Batman and Red Robin showed up shortly with Robin not far behind. It didn’t take long for the detectives to believe Jason’s innocence. The evidence didn’t match him.

Jason sat on a piece of concrete near the scene as they worked. He had hoped to see this for years now. But it wasn’t the same. Maybe it was because Jason didn’t get his revenge or because it looked too neat. Two quick shots to the brain. Probably didn’t even see it coming before he was lights out.

Bruce walked over to him as the other two took photos and bagged evidence. A little blood here. Some fabric fibers there. No fingerprints because of the heavy rain but a bullet casing.

“Did you see who shot him?”

“No B. I literally got here and he was already out. He was supposed to have a drug drop but I guess that didn’t happen,” Jason said with a shrug.

“You were going to fight him alone,”Bruce said with a raised brow.

“No. Just reconnaissance. I would have called it in,” Jason defended himself. Bruce gave him a side look before moving on to the case.

“Commissioner Gordon is on the way,” Tim said. He held bags of evidence carefully in his lanky fingers. “We’re finish collecting-“

“Can we go home, father? It’s freezing cold,” Damian interrupted. Bruce sighed before looking at him.

“Red Robin was talking but yes, you both should back to the cave to process everything. Red Hood, you too. The commissioner knows you have a history with the joker so it’s best you leave too. I’ll take care of this,” Bruce said carefully. Any wrong word might set Jason off with his trauma over the death of his murderer.

“Uh yeah, sure man,” Jason said clearly distracted. He would usually argue with everything Bruce said and this made Bruce even more worried for the young man. He sent a quick message to Dick before the commission met got there.

——————————

“We’re running the tests right now and there really isn’t much else to do. Robin already went to bed. Go home Hood and get some sleep,” Tim said by the computers. Jason hadn’t bothered to get out of his suit or shower.

“How long? How long until you get results?”

“Oh, uhhh maybe 12 hours? A while. Sorry DNA testing isn’t like in the movies. The meta or clone tests are even longer. It probably won’t be until tomorrow night that we know anything,” Tim said turning in his chair. “Get some sleep.”

Jason considered giving him a nasty comment but held it. He certainly felt dead on his feet and had a nice warm woman waiting at home for him.

“Call when you know anything,” he said with a growl.

“Yeesh, yeah. I will,” Tim said backing away. “Say it. Don’t spray it,” he muttered as Jason walked away.

———————————

Jason trudged into the apartment leaving wet clothing in his wake until he stumbled to bed in nothing but his boxer briefs. You were going to be mad at him for the mess in the morning but that could wait. He looked at you asleep on the bed. You looked so sweet and innocent. Like an angel compared to his dirty hands that practically dripped blood every night.

He slid under the blanket and pressed close to your warm form. You gasped awake before relaxing when you realized it was just Jason. Did you not realize he could kill you 84 different ways in your sleep? It didn’t really matter as you snuggled your head into the crook of his neck and slid your legs to entangle with his. Jason’s arms automatically wrapped around you and rubbed your back until your breathing was even in sleep. He stared at the ceiling until the hint of dusk could be seen outside.

Jason woke with a gasp followed by a moan as he felt perfect wet heat encompass his dick. He looked down to see the blankets move rhythmically as you slid your mouth along his dick. He blinked himself more awake to truly enjoy it.

It wasn’t the first time you had woken him as such but it was certainly a rare occurrence. Reserved for birthdays and Christmas, he couldn’t imagine what he did to deserve such a wonderful wake up.

“Fuck! Princess,” he groaned as you swirled before taking him deep. You hummed questionably.

“What did I, mmmm, do to deserve such a fuck! Perfect mouth. Perfect wake up,” he said pushing covers down to show you between his legs. You looked up at him with big innocent eyes as you licked long hot strips up his cock. You took him deep in your mouth before sliding off with a pop.

“I can’t spoil you?” You purred and he twitched. How did he get so lucky? “Do you want to finish in my mouth or can I ride you first?” You asked and he god honest choked on his spit.

“Baby, *cough* whatever you want, what. Ever. you want,” he said and you grinned before climbing up his body to straddle him. His hands ran along the side of your body before gripping your hips. You sunk down on him with a little mewl.

“Fuck Princess, you’re so wet. Do you like... do you like sucking my cock?” He asked breathlessly.

“Of course, Jaybird. Sometimes I touch myself when I blow you, like today,” you admitted with a sweet little giggle. He almost came right them. How could you say the dirtiest things while being the sweetest person he’d ever known?

Jason reached his thumb down to rub your clit as you moved. You whined before nodding at him. Your mouth fell open and your hips sped up. He knew that you weren’t going to last long. You really did get hot and bothered blowing him. You made little whined and whimpers before moaning his name loudly as you came. Your body clenching on him was enough and he thrust up into you as he came as well. You bent down and kissed him deeply. Jason was panting by the time you pulled back.

“Loved that for sure, but what the hell was that, Princess,” Jason asked breathlessly as you climbed off and threw on some clothing. You chuckled a little before tossing him his boxers.

“Just wanted to wake you up this morning. Do you want some pancakes, Jay,” you asked. He sat up and pulled them on.

“You certainly did. And I never say no to food. Especially my favorite food,” Jason said with a grin. “Is it secretly my birthday? Am I dying and you’re prepping me beforehand?”

You laughed. “You already did that, baby.”

Jason gasped a little before laughing.

“I just wanted to treat you like you deserve. Pick a movie. There’s a new slasher out that you can tear apart,” you said walking in the kitchen and grinned at Jason’s heart eye look he gave you.

He looked through the movies without paying them much mind. He’d seen the joker dead the day before and now his girlfriend was spoiling him. He didn’t know what to think about. He’d think about the joker finally being dead. He couldn’t hurt Jason or those near him any more. You’d been kidnapped 6 months earlier and it had almost ripped Jason apart when he found you bloody and beaten. Luckily alive though.

Then he thought about how sweet you were. A perfect angel who had nothing to do with that life. You couldn’t kill someone if you tried. He just wanted to keep you in an innocent bubble, especially after being kidnapped.

“Jay? Jason?” You said near him and he jumped. He had been so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you coming over to him with a plate of food. Heart shaped pancakes covered in whipped cream stared up at him and Jason had a little grin on his face.

“Sorry, thanks. This looks good,” he said and you grinned before sitting with your own. Jason turned on a movie and sat next to you to eat.

Jason’s phone rang.

He gave you an apologetic look before answering.

“Yeah,” he answered before quickly standing up to talk in another room. Definitely bat business, it sounded like. He came back in a few minutes putting on his suit. He bent and shoved most of a pancake in his mouth. Jason pulled you to your feet and swirled you around before holding you by the waist. You giggled.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve got to work. But when I get back, I’m making up for this morning, okay? Breakfast was amazing,” he said before pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You nodded before he left.

——————————

Jason arrived at the cave and realized something was instantly wrong. Tim, Dick, Damian, Bruce, and even Alfred were waiting for him around the computers. He slowly walked up. They didn’t think he did it, did they? Jason looked around in case of a fight.

“I have some bad news,” Dick said. Jason just stared at him. Dick sighed. “We know who killed the joker. You won’t like it. You- you might want to sit down.”

Jason frowned at his tone. It was the tone you used when telling a kid their parents died. He looked at the computer to see surveillance footage of the roof where he found the joker. He clenched his fist as the mad man walked in the screen.

“You know, this is the worst meeting place in the world,” joker said with a laugh. Jason’s eyebrows rose. He hasn’t expected audio. “So what do you have that I might want on the birds?”

A female voice off camera could be heard saying, “peace of mind.”

“Doubt you could give me that Princess,” he said in a mocking tone. His posture was casual even though the lower half of a woman’s body had walked into the screen and she held a gun in hand pointed at him. She froze at his words.

Jason couldn’t look away if he wanted to.

“Yeah, I know,” joker said. “I forget faces. Too many changing and quite a few people are a little two faced,” he said with a laugh. “But I never forget a voice. You sounded so much more sweet when you were crying tied to a chair. And the way you sobbed when I brought out the crowbar.... music to my ears. I bet it just reminded you of a certain bird that just didn’t quite make it the first time.”

“Shut up. I- I don’t care,” she said. Jason’s heart was in his throat. He knew exactly who that was before Tim’s DNA tests were complete. She moved around a little nervously.

“Honey, Princess,” he said drawn out in a mock of Jason’s voice. “Unless you plan on using that gun, put it down and we can play a game. You like games? You play one with the red bat all the time. Does he know? Does he know that you’ve been hunting me for.... geez, since you were kidnapped I’d bet.”

“Now drop that gun and I show you what pain really feels like,” he growled and she shot him in the forehead before he moved. He made a disconnected sound before falling to his knee, perfect height to be seen in the camera. She shot him again between the eyes and he fell back silently. His body splashed on the rainy roof before blood began to pool behind his head. The woman looked for a second, her body language painfully stiff, before running out the way she came.

The cave was silent as Jason realized what he just saw. He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. Has she- did she-??

“I assume the DNA matches?” He asked and Tim nodded before sliding him a paper copy. 98% match. Only chance it wasn’t you was an evil twin or clone but no, he noticed the clothing and mannerisms. It was you.

“Are you going to bring her in?” Bruce asked quietly and Jason gaped.

“I sure as shit ain’t. She killed the man who kidnapped her and abused her. That sounds like self defense to me,” he defended. Dick looked at him in pity and Jason quickly looked away.

“It was premeditated, Jason,” Bruce reminded him.

“I know. I’ll take care of it. She’s not going to prison. I’ll talk to her,” he said. Bruce gave him a hard look. “You come near her- I swear to god, Bruce. I’ll shoot you myself.”

Jason got up to leave. Dick moved out of his way. He wasn’t getting in this.

“Jason,” Bruce said but Jason was already gone.

——————————

Jason was a pretty smart guy but he was completely shocked at this moment. What possessed you to kill the joker? To seek him out? A man that tried to kill you and you were willing to meet him alone? Not even Jason wanted to do that. And that morning you were treating Jason special. He thought for a second that you killed the joker for him. It chilled him to the bone but he put that thought out of his head. No, you had your own reasons to do it.

Jason walked in the apartment cautiously. Who knows how you would be acting, the perfect girlfriend or finally breaking down when you realized you killed a man. He found you in the bedroom asleep. You didn’t look like you had just killed someone and for a second Jason had doubt but the video and DNA didn’t lie.

He crawled in bed with you. You pulled him close and laid your head on his chest and Jason’s heart hurt. You looked fine but killing people left scars and your first time killing someone was not something you forget.

You woke with a gasp and cry hours later. You trembled and grasped at Jason tightly. He woke up confused before pulling you closer.

“Hey, Princess, I’m right here. You’re okay,” he said rubbing your back and holding you close. “What’s going on?”

“I see him. When I sleep. Every time,” you breathed almost in tears. Jason kissed your cheek and he felt wetness on your skin. You had been crying. He didn’t want to ask but now was as good a time as any.

“Princess, what did you do last night?” Jason asked so quietly. You looked up at him quickly and it confirmed everything he needed to know.

“Nothing. I was here. All night. Wh-why?” You asked, lying terribly. Jason sighed. He closed his eyes before willing himself to speak.

“You know I’m a detective. I can tell that you’re lying,” Jason started gently.

“What does that mean,” you said a little too quickly. Your breathing started to speed up again and Jason hated the look of fear on your face.

“I’m not mad. I won’t turn you in. Just tell me what happened,” he said softly, watching you intently. You wanted to shrink away a little.

“I can’t,” you whispered. Your eyes started to water and you blinked them away.

“Did you do it? Did you kill him? I can help you,” Jason said and you froze. “Talk to me.”

“I-I did,” you said looking at him in terror. Your eyes were red rimmed. “I did.”

“I’m sorry,” he said pulling you tight to his body. You broke down in little sobs and clung to him. “I’m so sorry that you thought you had to. I should have. I’m sorry.” He wrapped you up and made little shhh noises and you cried until you fell back asleep.

You woke up later with a pounding headache wrapped up tightly against Jason. He was on his phone but sat it down when he saw you were up.

“Hey,You don’t have to worry about it. I’ve taken care of everything,” he said ever so gently. You nodded.

“What does that mean?” You asked slowly.

“Red Hood took the wrap on it. No great loss with one less psycho in Gotham. Harley Quinn had an impromptu parade with hyenas and jugglers and everything. Nightwing made an appearance. Dick said Barbie slept through the night for the first time in months and she said she’d help you with anything you need,” Jason said trying to be positive. You gave him a dry smile.

“That’s nice. What about- what about Batman?” You asked.

“He’s Batman. But he’ll get over it. And the next time you kill a murderous clown, let me help. He could have killed you. And if anyone knows how to hide a body, it’s me,” Jason said giving you a squeezing hug. You smiled despite yourself.

“I’ll remember that. I’m a little sad I missed the hyena parade,” you admitted.

“Oh she’s having a parade every day this week. An anonymous donor gave her a ton of fireworks. Fairly certain it was Tim,” Jason said.

[ragingbookdragon]

I’m Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 6

Batfamily x Batsis Story

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy @foreverthefloor @natatawa-ako (I discounted the names of those whose blogs I couldn't tag! Y'all gotta get that figured out on your end!)

Author's Note: And here we are with the long awaited PT. 6 after like...five days of hiatus. FLASHBACK TIME. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

The silver doors closed in his face and Wally couldn’t find it in himself to turn around and face the family behind. She wasn’t wrong for being upset and hostile, but something deep down inside naively assumed there would’ve been a teary reunion at the end of the night.

He hung his head and sighed heavily, turning around to pay the piper. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I thought…I thought I could—”

“How could you keep this from us!” Dick interrupted, angrily thrusting the letter towards Bruce. “We could’ve done more to find her! Released some statement about this! Told her earlier that she was wrong!”

Bruce’s face still held that indomitable impassivity as he responded calmly, “Dick, it would’ve caused more problems for us all if we’d released something pertaining to the information on the letter.”

“And making up some bullshit about (Y/N) fucking off to Europe was the betteroption?” Jason retorted, pointing at his father as he accused, “All those letters and pictures she supposedly sent were bullshit too, weren’t they?” He scoffed. “Of course they were. She’s been living here for the last three years.”

Tim, who’d been silent as his brothers delivered their harsh criticisms, murmured, “Bruce has a point guys.”

“Seriously?” Jason replied, eyes wide in shock. “You’re defending this?”

“Putting out the information in the letter would’ve made it seem like Bruce was irresponsible and inattentive to us.”

“But we—”

“Jason, Child Services would’ve conducted investigations into the manor.” Tim leveled him with a serious expression. “They could’ve taken me and Damian if they found things not to their likings.”

Jason went silent in agreement, but his pursed lips told Tim that he didn’t like it, and the rest of them matched the stillness.

Wally collapsed into the seat beside Dick. “I’m sorry, Dick,” he murmured remorsefully. “I thought I could help fix things.”

Dick was silent for a long time, then he sighed and shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Wally. You did the best you could.” He turned his blue eyes onto the speedster. “If anything, it was ours for cornering her.” He rubbed his temples. “I should’ve listened to you the first time when you told me to meet in Central instead of doing…this. She might’ve felt less threatened if we hadn’t ganged up on her.”

Wally looked away, the memory of (Y/N)’s disappearance still fresh in his mind and replaying as if it was still happening.

***

He could count on one hand how many times things had actually unnerved him to his core, and this one by far topped every instance of dread filled panic. And it certainly wasn’t the ecstatic atmosphere of Wayne-Family-Pizza-Fridays that was drilling him so hard—it was the confession that kept slipping onto his tongue, forcing him to swallow it down to avoid ruining everything.

“Wally, you good?”

His eyes darted to Jason’s, who were uncharacteristically concerned, and he gave a tight smile. “Yeah man, just chilling.”

Jason snorted. “You look like you’ve got a stick up your a—your butt,” he finished when Alfred’s glare hit him.

“Sorry, just thinking about some things.” He took a piece of pizza from one of the boxes, handing it to Cass who silently held her plate out, then proceeded to get himself one. “Don’t let me stop the story,” he quipped, and Jason shook his head, but went back into some story about kicking Two-Face’s ass the other night.

Maybe he should tell Dick later? Wouldn’t that be better than telling the whole family? A frown etched onto his face as he chewed, but it all tasted bitter. (Y/N) didn’t want to be found and she seemed pretty adamant about it as well. Maybe she was right? Maybe they did ignore her a lot. Bruce doesn’t exactly have the best track record of keeping up with all his kids, I mean look at Jason. And then everybody else gets sidetracked in their own lives and things just get forgotten along the way. Was she one of those things? Their own sister? No, they couldn’t—

Laughter exploded across the table, Cass pressing her face into Tim’s arm to stifle her giggles, Stephanie cackling at Tim for snorting soda out of his nose, and that just set everyone off again. Dick and Damian pointing at Tim while their faces turned red from laughing so hard, Jason was crying at that point, and surprisingly, Barbara and Bruce had their heads in their hands. The only one not laughing was Wally.

“I know where (Y/N) is.” He blurted and the table went dead quiet as everyone stared at him.

For a full minute, no one said a word.

“What did you just say?” Dick asked and Wally swallowed, looking at him.

“I…I know where (Y/N) is.” He looked at Bruce and that weighted stare made the words fall right out of his mouth. “She’s been living in Central under the alias Melisandre Hale. Has been for the last three years.”

“What,” Dick started, but shook his head like he couldn’t comprehend. “What are you talking about, Wally? (Y/N)’s in Italy.”

Wally shook his head. “No, Dick, she’s not. And she never was. She left three years ago and has been living a completely different life up until now.”

“Until now?” Jason repeated. “What do you mean until now?”

“Dick and the other Titans came to hang out in Central two months ago and Melisan—(Y/N)mentioned herself. Rather curiously I might add.” He shrugged. “Now that I think about it, that was her way of dipping a toe into the water to see the ripples. To see where she was in the grand scheme of things.”

His eyes drifted to Dick’s. “When I showed you her picture you offhandedly commented on how similar they looked to one another and that night—”

“You went to confront her,” Dick finished, eyes flashing, and Wally wasn’t sure if it was from anger or sadness or some other heavy emotion the eldest brother was feeling about his baby sister. “…How’d she react when you did?”

Wally sighed, slouching in the hardwood chair. “Not in the positive, Dick.” He glanced at Bruce. “She doesn’t want to be found. And she certainly doesn’t want to be met by anyone. Especially…especially anyone here.”

“(Y/N)’s our sister,” Tim retorted. “What do you mean she doesn’t want to meet us?” he was already rising from his seat and that seemed to spark every brother to do so.

Wally’s hand shot out, wrapping around Dick’s wrist. “Dick, I’m being serious. Don’t corner her. Let me handle this.”

Dick tried to pull away, but he held tight. “You will handle this. We’ll all handle it together.”

“You don’t understand, Dick. If you want this to play out the way you’re planning, you need to come to Central alone with me.” He gazed at the others. “We need Dick to do this himself and then we can see about bringing her back here.”

Jason scowled. “With all due respect Wally, she’s our sister. Not yours.”

And with that, Dick pulled away firmly and Wally watched as the lot headed for the cave, the young women and Bruce still seated at the dinner table. He groaned and put his head in his hands, knowing this was going to come back to bite him in the ass.

“Wally,” someone said quietly. “Is she okay?”

He looked up, meeting Bruce’s eyes. His mouth opened, ready to lie, but he sighed and shook his head. “No,” he answered honestly. “(Y/N) isn’t the shy girl I remember. Especially when I confronted her. She was…cold and indifferent.” His mouth drew into a taut line and he stared at Bruce. “This isn’t going to end well, isn’t it?”

Bruce wiped his mouth on the napkin in his lap then stood from his seat, pushing in the chair behind him. “No, Wally. No, it’s not.”

***

He shook the memory away and instead of looking at any of the brothers, he looked at Bruce. “So, what do we do now?”

“We go find her and bring her back to Gotham, that’s what we do,” Jason griped, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No,” Bruce said firmly. “If (Y/N) wants to stay here, then we’ll let her.”

“WHAT?!” all three of the boys around him shouted in unison, their eyes practically bulging out of their heads.

He merely looked on. “We’ll wait for her to meet us halfway.”

“And what if she tries to leave again?” Dick questioned angrily and Bruce turned his slate gray eyes to him.

“We’ll know.”

“How?” Tim asked. “If she left the first time, what’s stopping her from leaving again?”

Wally cleared his throat and if he were a lesser man, he would’ve cowered under their withering glares as he admitted, “Actually, I tagged (Y/N) with a bug.”

“You did what?” Jason questioned, brows furrowing.

“I tagged a pocket in her purse with a bug when she wasn’t paying attention earlier in the car.”

“And you’re sure she won’t just throw that purse away? She left the house with money and a suitcase of necessities. A purse doesn’t seem that way.”

Wally snorted and crossed his arms. “(Y/N)’s purse is a Givenchy black bag that she found at a thrift store for thirty dollars. She might be a different person after living on minimum wage, but deep down she’s still a billionaire’s daughter who can’t help but love expensive things.” He grinned rather cockily. “She’s not going to get rid of a two-thousand-dollar purse she found for thirty. Even if she throws away everything else she’s got.”

He shifted his gaze to Bruce. “I think waiting for her is a good option, but you might want to do something more.”

“Like what?” Tim asked.

Wally shrugged. “Write her personal letters. The semester ends in three months and she won’t leave before it does, or she’ll have to pay those classes off.” He stared them down. “You’ve got three months to wear her down into staying on grid before she goes off again.” His eyes hardened. “And you know as well as I that if she goes off…we won’t find her ever again.”

[ve1vetyoongi]

wherever you will go | jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: actor!oc, director!jungkook, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 21k

Summary:  Not much happens when you grow up by the coast. Tourists come and go, the theatre where you work shows the same shows over and over and there’s always sand and salt in the air. Your dreams of making it big in the city are exactly that: dreams. When your hopes of becoming an actress are shattered into a million pieces, you find yourself getting drawn to a captivating up-and-coming movie director by the name of Jeon Jungkook. With his bright eyes and charming smile, he seems determined to glue your pieces back together -- even if it means leaving Ocean City behind for good.

Warnings: themes of loss/grief, mentions of death of a parent, dom!jungkook, dom/sub themes, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f recieving).

Rating: Mature.

A/N: Hello loves! HAPPY JK DAY!! This fic is a lil celebration of our golden boy Jungkook so I hope you enjoy!! This whole fic is sickeningly fluffy and reads like a pretentious YA novel but ya girl wrote this while she was stuck in quarantine a few weeks ago and I debated not posting this bc I lowkey love it lowkey hate it so pleasedonthateme if it’s bad LOL. Also -- just incase you haven’t read the warnings already there is a running theme that deals with the loss of a parent (a topic very close to my heart, hence why this piece was especially healing to write.) so reader discretion is advised if that is triggering to you in any way shape or form!!!! P.P.S Largely unedited so pls bare with any mistakes!

Prelude.

You're late for your work shift, you note, as you catch sight of your watch face glaring up at you menacingly from the arm clutching the handle bars of your bike. As if your mood couldn't get any more miserable -- the dreary morning drizzle that falls from the sky and drips icily down the back of your nape was bad enough.

Goddamn, you groan to yourself as you will your feet to pedal ever faster. Now my hair is gonna be frizzy.

It's a Saturday and the theatre where you work always opens earlier at the weekends. You promised you'd be on time today, but yet here you are, speeding down the worn in sandy sidewalks of your seaside town a whole block away when you should've been opening up half an hour ago.

It's a habit of yours, being late. And as hard as you try, you just can't change a habit. But it can't be helped you suppose. Continuity is all you've ever known. That's the thing about living in a tiny seaside town. Things never change.

The view from your bedroom window has been the same for as long as you can remember — Ocean City — Aka, block after block of rainbow coloured houses with flaky paint leading up to the harbour where boats bob nonchalantly and fishermen reel in their catches beneath the gull filled sky. Beyond it the beach; greyish rolling waves and upturned pebbles nestled atop of hard sand in the winter and clear water and brightly coloured beach towels and brave surfers in the summer.

Nobody ever leaves, and the tourists that arrive in summer never stay. Life becomes a predictable practice, just each day lived out to the next in an endless cycle of never ending continuity. It's suffocating and endless and sometimes you feel like you're just a pawn on a giant chess board, destined to move one agonising square forward at a time, never diagonally. It's hard to change directions when you've been taught to stick to what you know.

You didn't always live here, in this town of continuity. You lived in the big city for a while, where no day was the same as another. But after your mother died you and your older brother were shipped off to live with your dad, who wouldn't know the definition of adapting if it hit him square in the face. He's always been the same square shouldered, balding dude in his forties who never wanted kids and never quite got over losing your mother to the big buck actor she ran off with when you were two.

So that's how you ended up here. Late for work at your job in the country's most prized vacation spot. And your boring reality.

You roll past the beach huts on the shoreline that alternate between vibrant pink and muted blue, barely paying attention to the boardwalk with its little boat house that stretches out into the horizon like a crooked finger. When it gets dark, you can spot the pier carnival lights flashing in the distance from here as they dance across the reflection of the pale white moon and play among the waves.

Even now, the yellow lights of the ornate street lamps that line the water's front shine like tiger's eyes against the sky just like they always have when you turn down the familiar route that takes you past the winding lanes of trinket shops and the happy hour bars and the carnival that feels strangely empty at such an early hour, not a single rollercoaster ride in operation.

Before long you're skidding to a stop outside of the The Crestmont, the old theatre where you work. It's everything you'd expect from a vintage cinema; pink and blue neon lights and a gold trimmed ticket booth out front with a three-sided marquee that extends from the front of the building like a brightly lit airport runway. You hurry beneath it, grateful for the protection it provides from the rain that has started to come down in lashes now, before heading over to the rack around the back of the building where you can chain your bike.

The Crestmont used to be somewhat of a hotspot back in the day or so your told, but these days it only shows cartoons at a discounted price for the neighbourhood kids and the occasional local production of some worn out musical everyone has seen a hundred times before. It's lost all it's magic, everyone says. But you disagree; you probably spend more time here than anyone, and there's magic in every inch of this place.

From the red velvet curtains to the grand chandelier, The Crestmont is one of a kind. Sometimes you disappear into the theatre by yourself for a while unbeknownst to your manager. You can almost taste the laughter and the tears and the love that has been spilled and shared unapologetically amongst these seats. Pure magic.

Your mom left a piece of herself here, too. If you close your eyes you can hear her laughter spilling out into the theatre, or her lilting singing voice filling every nook and cranny like a haunting siren. She was the Crestmont's star. Ocean City's sweetheart.

There's a wall of fame in the lobby. It's covered in portraits crested with gold frames, all filled with pictures of the Crestmont's greatest performers. You've spent hours there — (turns out it's the perfect hiding spot from your manager) — fingers tracing the plaques beneath each one, all inscribed with names that townsfolk whisper with dreamy looks in their eyes. Some are black and white, some colour, but all of them depict pretty faces with beaming smiles that never seem to fade.

Not even your mom's. Her smile is pearly and bright, right above the plaque with her birthdate. And her death date.

And right there at the end, an empty frame. Your frame. You can feel it. You already know how you'll pose for your picture. Hair over one shoulder, hand on hip, smile so convincing that it'll be like every happiness in your heart is written right across your forehead proudly, and you won't have to dull it any longer.

You finish hooking a chain around the handlebars of your bike, catching sight of your reflection in the darkened windows. Staring back at you is a girl dressed in a maroon v-neck with a preppy dicky bow tied around her collar. You frown. The white shirt itches and the high waisted pants make your crotch look weird but the uniform is compulsory. The only thing uglier is the sour expression on your face, which you try to smooth out with your thumb, experimenting with plastering a sickly smile to your face instead. It might be convincing if your lips didn't strain and your eyes weren't so prone to rolling without your permission.

You need to learn to hide your emotions, your father said. You have your feelings written across your face. Customers don't like that.

It's true; customer's didn't usually like you, your unforgiving face or when you spilled cola down their blouse or spat in their popcorn. One more complaint and you were on the path to being fired once and for all, and although in some ways you would be glad to say goodbye to the stupid slushie machine that always gets stuck and the ungrateful customers and the goddamn uniform, you can't loose this job.

Not when it's your ticket to making it big. Then customers will point to your picture as they pass and clutch their chest with a snide superiority, Oh! Can you believe she served me a cola once? I always knew she was gonna make it! instead of Would it kill you to smile a little, honey?

So you swallow a sigh and make your smile as convincing as possible and march inside of the ornate theatre doors of The Crestmont, hoping that today may be the day where things finally change for once.

Where it begins

"I'm going to work!" You call as you you pull a baseball cap down over your hair to cover it's unbrushed wildness. "I won't be back for a while so don't wait up, okay Taehyung?"

You pause with your hand on the door, listening carefully for a response; the small house you live in pulsates with the bass of some indie rock album your brother and his friends are obsessed with at the moment, and your eyes roll when you peer up the staircase and find Taehyung's bedroom door firmly closed like always.

With a shake of your head you scribble out a message on a sticky note — GONE 2 WORK. — and leave it for him to read when he eventually emerges from his man cave in search of sustenance and finds you gone.

You brush away the funny ache that nestles in your stomach. This is nothing new. You're used to not being heard. Your dad is always gone for trips you suspect involve more play than work, and your older brother pretends he's not broken by hanging around with the neighbourhood cool kids and barraging himself in his room for days on end. Despite living under one roof it feels as though you're miles apart, an invisible barrier separating you indefinitely.

You weren't always like this; distant, always stepping on eggshells around each other. You were a family once. A happy one. But since the accident there's been an absence in this house, and nothing has been the same since.

Still, you know that beneath Taehyung's standoffish persona, he's still your big brother. He worries about you. So you tack the note to the fridge and make your way outside.

The lawn is already brown despite it only being late May, and summer is shaping up to be hot and sticky, though you live two blocks away from the beach so the coolness of the ocean still thankfully pervades against your perspiring skin, the gulls already calling you with their high pitched squaks from down at the shoreline.

You've barely made it to the end of the drive before there's the sound of knuckles rapping against glass. You look up and your heart jumps into your mouth. Staring back at you is a pair of dark eyes from behind the upstairs windowpane. Even from this distance you can see how they shine, deep and dark like a cup of black coffee, and you'd recognise the annoyingly cute smirk that matches them anywhere.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung's best friend, and, unfortunately, your crush for as long as you knew what the word love meant.

"Hey, Y/N!" Your heart sinks when the window slides open and a messy head of brown hair sticks out through the gap and points at you with a pout. "You're leaving already? Without me?"

Oh; another thing about Jeon Jungkook. He's also your co-worker, which means you spend 16 hours a week in his company, much to the glee of your heart and the dismay of your conscience.

You weren't exactly surprised when you turned up to the Crestmont theatre for your first shift and were left in the capable hands of none other than Jungkook to teach you the ins and the outs of the popcorn machine and the ticket booth.

For as long as you've known him he's been somewhat of a film buff. He practically grew up holding a camera. You always used watch him and your brother making home movies in the backyard, fit with ketchup sachets for blood and endless costumes from your mom's closet. And the one time you stayed at his house when your dad went away for a while after the accident, you saw all the classic movie posters on his bedroom wall; Casablanca, Singing in the Rain, Jaws. So it made total sense for Jungkook to be at the Crestmont. In fact, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

That day you were mostly just surprised that he knew who you were at all. While you had spent years watching him from your bedroom window while he kicked a ball around with Taehyung or avoiding his eyes at the table when he stayed for dinner, he had never so much as glanced in your direction.

Deep down you think the reason he was so quick to take you under his wing is because he knew first hand how hard the accident hit your family. You suppose he feels he owes it to Taehyung to keep you in high spirits.

Although if you weren't you and he wasn't him, you'd swear Jungkook's attentions had become almost flirtatious as of late. He always goes the extra mile to spend time with you, and you even though you know it'll end up with you getting hurt you can't bring yourself to stop him.

You see, Jungkook has a gift for subtle charm. Like how he always sneaks you sodas out back on your lunch break, never forgetting the extra syrup — tooth rottingly sweet just how you like it — slipping one of his own dollars into the cash register to avoid a telling off from your manager. Or how he insists on helping you clean up after the theatre is empty, showing you the best secret places like down the back off seats to find misplaced trinkets and the creaky floorboard where your manager hides his cigarettes. How he insists on walking you home after the evening shift, even if he says he's going this way to see Taehyung anyway.

You've spent countless hours pondering over whether his sweet talking words mean as much to him as they do to you. And as much as you know it's unlikely for someone like Jeon Jungkook to ever have feelings for you, you can't help the way your heart speeds up every time he shoots you one of his signature bunny smiles that light up his whole face like he's happiness personified. And you can't bring yourself to hate him for it.

"I did call," you respond matter of factly, finally sucking in a breath of courage to turn around and squint up at him through the afternoon sun with a shrug. "But that trash you're listening too was too loud for you guys to hear me."

Jungkook's eyes widen as he fumbles around beneath the windowsill and pops up again holding up a shiny vinyl record sleeve. You recognise it instantly; it's from his favourite film — Submarine. He hardly ever shuts up about it.

"This is not trash. This is, like, the best movie soundtrack ever made!" He shakes his head as he takes the needle off of Taehyung's vintage record player, music ceasing with a scratch, and slips it into the sleeve with a grin. "Good thing I have it downloaded so we can listen to it on the way to work, hm?"

You roll your eyes and tap your foot impatiently, and at that, Taehyung appears behind him.

"You're leaving already?" He frowns, words directed at Jungkook even as he glances through narrowed eyes at you stood awkwardly on the front lawn.

"Yup. My shift starts in twenty." Jungkook shrugs, disappearing into the room for a second before he emerges again with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I can come back afterwards though, if you want?"

Taehyung purses his lips. Even from here you can see the stress lines embedded in his forehead that make him look older than his humble age of nineteen, somehow weak unlike how you always saw him as a kid. Big and strong; untouchable; your brother.

His blunt eyes never quite meet Jungkook's as he shakes his head softly. "'S good. I was gonna try and sleep, anyway, before the sun goes down. Didn't get much shut eye last night. Not with the..."

Nightmares. Taehyung trails off, but you know that's what he's alluding to. The nightmares that turn your big strong brother into a sniffling mess in the dead of night, kicking around mercilessly until you sneak into his bed and whisper to him until he slips into slumber again. Not that you ever acknowledge it in the morning over your bowls of cereal and vacant good morning's.

"Okay." Jungkook's face momentarily falls; a rare occurrence from the boy who seems to be perpetually cheerful. He pats Taehyung on the shoulder gently. "Take care of yourself, okay man?"

Taehyung just nods, letting out a yawn as he rolls into a stretch. "See ya tomorrow."

You're jolted from your thoughts when Jungkook throws his left leg out of the window, then the other, arms bulging in just the right way where they poke out of the sleeves of his plain white tee as he climbs down the drainpipe and lands with a thump on the soles of his high top sneakers.

"Hey kiddo." He grins as he wipes the palms of his hands on the thighs of his ripped jeans, before messing up your hair despite your groan of protest.

"Don't call me that. You're only a year older than me."

You're startled when you meet the pair of warm eyes that glint golden brown in the summer evening light, chest contracting as you look away and break into a fast walk towards the street.

"And you know you can just use the front door right?"

You hear him snort behind you, neglecting to use the front gate and instead launching over the fence so he lands directly in front of you on the sidewalk.

"How am I supposed to impress my best friends little sister if I can't show off my guns?" He flexes his arm, but you just brush past him with a roll of your eyes.

"You're an idiot."

You hear the clunk of his bike chain unhooking from the gate, before a set of wheels pedal up on the sidewalk beside you. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Uh, to work?" You offer bluntly, squinting at him through the sun. "You should be too, we start in fifteen minutes."

"I mean why are you walking? What happened to your bike?"

You roll your eyes. "Some tourist kids slashed the wheels at the beach."

"Shit. Really?" Jungkook tuts, but you don't miss the glint in his eye as he nods towards the pegs on the back of his bike that were made for carrying a passenger."Then I guess it's my lucky day. Hop on, we can ride together."

You come to a standstill, arms crossed tightly. "I'd rather walk."

"Oh come on!" He wiggles his eyebrows. "It'll take double the time if we go on foot, and I recall it being you who got a final late warning last week."

"If we go on foot?" You laugh breathily, determined to stand your ground. "Just go on ahead, I'm good here."

"Well, I'm not exactly going to leave you here alone on the side of the road now am I? So I'll be forced to walk with you. And I'm older than you remember? Look, I'm already out of breath! My legs aren't what they used to be, y'know."

"Fine!" With a pout you take the helmet resting in his front basket and hook it underneath your chin, biting your lip to stop a smile from gracing your lips at the excitement that lights up Jungkook's features. "But only because I want you to shut up."

"Your wish is my command." He says with a pat to your head. "Hold on tight, okay?"

And as you wrap your arms around his waist, you're sure his ears heat up a deep shade of red, even it could just be the evening light playing tricks on you.

The theatre at the Crestmont feels eerily quiet when its empty.

You know that because even though your shift was supposed to end at 5, you offered to stick around to help clean up after today's performance. Phantom of the Opera.

"Jesus," You groan as you pick up another sticky soda cup that someone had kindly spilled all over the ground for you to clean up, dropping the offender into a black trash bag. "Doesn't anyone around here know how to use a trash can?"

You fall into one of the theatre seats with a sigh and run your fingers over the scarlet velvet, worn yet plush, the texture soothing you instantly. You tilt your head back and let the silence engulf you. No orchestra, no musical numbers, no stage crew shouting directions. No whirring cotton candy machine. Just you and the stage.

From here you can see every detail on the high ceiling littered with renaissance-style paintings of mermaids and babies armed with heart shaped bow and arrows. Your mom was an actress. When you were a kid you used to spent hours staring at them while she rehearsed. You were convinced they came alive once the theatre closed up for the night, their cheeky smiles evidence of a secret only you knew.

A trail of rainbows is cast by the grand chandelier hung in the center, and it draws your attention all the way down the aisles and up to the stage.

The Crestmont is only small, fitting perhaps 200 people at most. It's hardly Broadway. But the fire in your chest ignites as you glance side to side before sidling up the creaking wooden steps that wind up to the Crestmont's center stage. Your favourite part of the whole theatre.

It's not the first time you've done this. You often like to come up here after everyone has gone home, even though you technically aren't supposed to. There's a certain magic about being alone up here as you collect the lone roses that were thrown on stage by tonight's audience. Breathing in the musty smell of butter popcorn that lingers on the velvet curtains, feel the warmth of the bright stage lights glazing your skin. Something about it feels like home.

The first time you ever saw the Crestmont stage was on tv, watching a grainy camera shakily capture your mom in the very same spot you find yourself right now.

Your mom used to have a cardboard box filled with her old audition tapes. Everything from Hamlet to A Streetcar Named Desire, she'd starred in it, and you spent hours together in front of the television set trying to memorise the way she spoke your favourite lines and listening to her lilting voice recite backstage anecdotes about her rendezvous with foreign directors who dined on her in Paris or underground parties with celebrities you had never even heard of as she stroked your hair.

It wasn't until you got a little older that you realised that, just like you, your mom was a dreamer. Sure, she'd visited a couple different states and starred in some makeup commercials once, and that was enough to make her a celebrity in a town as small as this.

But really? She was just a small town actress with dreams larger than herself and way larger than the Crestmont where she made her name. And suddenly the gaps in time where she would disappear for weeks — sometimes months — on end no longer made sense to you. If she wasn't drinking cocktails with the prince of Monaco or clubbing in London, then where was she?

"Down town with those no good roadies," Taehyung told you once. "They made all these empty promises. Told her she'd make it big if she just did what they said. But look how that turned out."

That was the day you realised your mom was a better actress than you ever knew.

She always thought that her dreams would come true. She believed it so hard that you believed it too, naively. But who knows? Maybe they would have if she didn't get into an accident on her way to New York for her big break.

It's easy to imagine how your mom felt up here. She always looked so alive and free in those VHS tapes as she danced effortlessly across the stage with an ethereal weightlessness, the theatre silent except for the melodic sweetness of her monologues that drew tears to the eyes of those who listened eagerly.

If you close your eyes you can hear the roar of the crowd, hands clapping furiously. The orchestra tuning their brass in the pit, bows melodic against strings. Flowers landing at your feet. The deep breath of satisfaction as you take your final bow and the curtain closes.

Just like that you're moving across the stage, reciting the lines you know so well...

"You're gonna be a star like me some day," A voice whispers against your ear, soft and gentle. A memory. Your mom. "Just like me."

And just like that, she's there. In the audience, clapping. For you. And you feel invincible.

The sound of applause breaks you out of your trance. Real applause. You find yourself stood center stage, broom in hand, staring out at row after row of empty seats that gape with the same emptiness that was here when you arrived.

Except one of the velvet lined seats is filled now. Right at the front.

"Encore!" Jungkook whistles, the harsh thwacks of his palms clapping together clanging inside your ears. "Do it again! That was amazing!"

Your chest seizes painfully, a sudden bout of panic turning your blood cold. You feel the colour leave your face. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching?

Jungkook is watching you attentively, eyes soft at the edges with wonder. It makes bile rise in your throat. You can't be up here. Not when there's a pair of eyes looking at you, judging.

"I..." You begin, but the words get caught in your throat.

"I can't do this."

The way Jungkook's eyes widen and he lurches forward to catch you is the last thing you see before your vision goes black.

The boardwalk is strangely quiet for a summer evening. It's happy hour so you suppose most vacationers are already in the bars in their I LOVE OCEAN CITY T-shirts drinking cocktails or whatever. Not that you're complaining.

The smell of hotdogs and vinegar from the vans that line the strip still fill the air, snatches of conversations from children begging their parents to let them go on the waltzer one last time barely audible above the tinkling bells of the carousel. The ride operators drink soda's as they fan themselves with rolled up newspapers, grateful for the gentle hubbub on such a sticky evening, and then there's you, caught up in the middle of it all.

The wooden boards of the pier are warm against he backs of your thighs. You're sat with your legs dangling through the peeling guard rail that lines the strip. It was painted pastel blue at some point but years of sea spray and grubby hands made it fade to a sickly green tinge that matches the ocean.

Speaking of, the ocean would usually be directly below your feet, murky and wild, but today the tide has receded right back to reveal a large strip of sand. The stands suspending the pier rest on top of it so that you could walk right under and around them if you wanted to. You and Taehyung used to do that all the time when you were kids. Searching for barnacles. Exploring the dark places.

"Here. Eat up. You totally passed out on me back there. You could probably do with some sugar."

The soft voice beside you is the only thing loud enough to permeate your daydreams. You don't have look up to know who it belongs to. Jungkook.

He peers down at you, sun beating down against his back. He's holding two vanilla ice cream cones, double scooped, and he thrusts one into your hands before mirroring your position at the edge of the boardwalk.

The walk down here from the Crestmont was more or less silent, and your stomach twists now you realise Jungkook wants to talk.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." You lie. The ice cream is cold and sweet and covers the bitterness. "I just think it's funny."

Jungkook's tongue sneaks out to lick up the melted cream dribbling down his cone. "What is?"

"How this place stays the same but I feel so different." You were born here, raised here. This place was your whole life once, with it's salty air and bustling casino's. But since the accident, something's been bubbling inside you, swelling and crashing like the ocean below that taunts you and you've never felt farther from home in your life as you do now, looking out over the town that just won't budge, just like the funny ache in your chest. "Forget I said it. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."

Jungkook fidgets beside you and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh."It's okay, y'know. To miss her."

Your mom. You know that's who he means. Just the mention of her stings.

"Mhm." You snort. "Tell that to my family. If we all carried on missing mom then we'd be in pretty hot shit by now."

"If it's Taehyung you're worried about, then don't be. He's stronger than he looks."

"Until he's not anymore. And we lose him again just like—" You pause. You hate how you can hear the pain in your voice so you smooth it out. "Just like before. And I can't let that happen. I won't."

Jungkook shifts. As Taehyung's oldest friend he was there for everything in the aftermath of the accident. He was there when you put on a brave face for the sake of your family. He was there when Taehyung couldn't be any more.

"That doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time. Think about it this way. The ocean isn't always this calm right?" He gazes wistfully out over the ocean that swells and crashes against the shore, fingers twirling the gold chain around his neck. "Last winter when we had that huge storm, the waves were so big they smashed right through the pier support beams."

You furrow your brows. "What about it?"

"The ocean was just too much for the pier to bare and it would've come crashing down forever if half the neighborhood didn't come down to the beach in the dead of night, despite the rain, and hold it together until the storm calmed and the emergency repair boats could get to shore."

It's true. You remember how unforgiving the rain was as it pelted down against your back and froze you through to the bone that night as each and every familiar face from your neighborhood came down to the seafront to lend a hand, your family included.

Jungkook was there too. He was the one who knocked on your door in the early hours to spread the word. He got given free churros for life by one of the pier stall owners as a reward.

"What I'm trying to say Y/N, is that Taehyung has you to lean on, right? So who do you have?" Jungkook says, staring at you head on now. His sincerity almost makes you blush.

You bite your lip. Deep down you know that your beams are just as broken as Taehyung's and it's only a matter of time before they come crashing down into the water, and this time there'll be nobody to hold the pieces together.

"I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my ocean."

Jungkook brushes your hand. You flinch, so he pulls it back into his lap. "Well if you ever need a life boat, then you know where I am okay?"

You don't believe him, but he's staring at you so expectantly that you just tell him what he wants to hear. You're good at that.

"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."

Children's laughter bubbles up from the beach. You watch their distant silhouettes dancing among the waves. It's Jungkook who breaks the silence before it settles between you and becomes uncomfortable.

"Anyway, what were you doing up there on the stage today?" He smiles, like he's trying to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were having the time of your life before—"

You feel your cheeks start to burn. How long had Jungkook been watching you at the Crestmont? Had he seen the whole thing?

"It was nothing. I was just being dumb."

"Nothing?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side and punches you playfully. "It didn't seem like nothing."

"It just...it makes me feel close to my mom when I'm on the stage." You admit. "I loved watching her when I was a kid. She was always larger than life in my eyes. She had this way of making you really believe she was someone else. It was like she wasn't just acting -- she was becoming. Sometimes...sometimes I think I liked her better when she was in character."

You shake your head with a small smile. "I like me better when I'm in character. I used to dream about going to New York one day and becoming an actress just like she wanted to. Small town girl making it big in the city and all that." You scoff. "But I'm nothing like her. It's just fun to pretend sometimes."

"You're good. At performing. Like, really good." Jungkook's eyes are wide. When he places a hand on your forearm you don't shake it off this time. "You take after her. Everyone says it."

It's true. There's one photo of your mom in the house. It's in Taehyung's room. When you were younger you thought it was your face staring back at you from behind the glass. Sometimes you'll be walking down the boardwalk or serving soda's at work and you'll hear the whispers. See their heads turn. Is it her?

"Pfft. Looks mean nothing." You scoff. "She was fearless. I can't even speak in front of one person without passing out, let alone a crowd."

Realisation crosses Jungkook's face. "Oh. So that's what happened back there? Stage fright?"

"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "So don't give me the follow your dreams spiel or whatever."

"Hmm." Jungkook uses his arms as a makeshift pillow so he can lay back against the ground. You mirror him, peering through your fingers to watch how the golden rays of the sun swallow his frame. "Remember that play they made us do in middle school?"

"The Nativity?" You raise your eyebrow. It was the first theatre production you were in, before the accident and way before you had stage fright.

"Yeah." He grins. "I was the sheep. Taehyung made fun of me for months afterwards because of that stupid costume my grandma made."

"Yeah." You snort. "You did look sorta dumb."

Jungkook bumps your arm with a playful pout that makes you giggle. "And do you remember how I forgot my lines on stage and nearly pissed myself with stage fright? God, I still remember how mad my dad looked in the front row. We'd practiced that part for weeks. I don't know why it happened. I just froze—" A small smile forms on his lips. "But you didn't. Next thing I know there's a kid in a gold star of Bethlehem costume running on stage to recite my lines for me. You stole the show, remember that? Everyone loved you."

"That was then." You murmur, but you can't suppress the smile tugging at the corners or your mouth. "I'm not the same person."

"You were a year younger than the rest of my class but you auditioned anyway, because you knew that you were the only person who could play the star. Because you were a star."

Jungkook turns so that his head rests on his elbow and you're suddenly so close you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek. Your heart pumps in your ears as you gaze dips down to his rosy lips and back up to his sparkling eyes which bore into yours.

"You still are a star."

The words echo in your ears, soft and sincere. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You lose your breath. And then you jump away, placing a safe distance between your bodies before you can do something you regret.

"And what about you. Are you still a sheep?" You tease, turning your face so he can't see how it burns rosy red.

"Nah. Figured out pretty quickly after that that I was better off behind the camera." He chuckles.

"Oh right. You still have that thing?" You nod to the camera in his lap. It's one of those old ones that looks like the type that needs a film reel and a projector, but it's been modified so there's a little viewfinder at the side to check the footage instead. "Can I see?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"

"Oh! Right!" It's his turn to flush now, scratching the back of his neck as he anxiously thrusts the camera into your hands and pays close attention to the hangnail at the edge of his thumb as you watch the footage.

Your eyes widen when a familiar scene rolls out on the tiny screen. You, on stage at the Crestmont. Jungkook filmed you.

"This is..."

"You." He rushes."Yeah, I know. Sorry if this is awkward—"

"No. Not at all. I just���" You watch in awe as the you inside the camera moves across the stage with an effortless grace. How the lights make your eyes shine and your skin brighter than you remember it being in the mirror this morning. "How did you do that?"

Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"

"Make me look like...that."

"I didn't do anything." Jungkook shrugs. "That's just how I see you."

You could listen to him say that all day, but you stop yourself mid swoon.

"Don't say things you don't mean."

"I do mean it. And I'll show you." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"How?"

He grabs your hand and squeezes it. Tight. "I don't know how yet but I will."

You roll your eyes. "Good luck, Jeon."

"You know I like a challenge." Jungkook laughs, and the melodic sound goes right to your chest. "I'll make you see yourself how I see you. Just wait."

"Since when did you have four wheels?" You call to Jungkook with a quirk of your brow, resting your elbows on the window ledge of the beat up truck he pulls up in outside the Crestmont.

It's a sticky August afternoon and the rusty red vehicle purrs— or more like splutters — in the parking lot as Jungkook untangles your bike from the rack and lifts it into the cargo bed like it's weightless. Just yesterday he came by with his pump and a patch to fix that goddamn slashed tyre, and now he's stealing it?

"Hey! What are you doing with my bike?"

He is clad in nothing but a white vest and board shorts, and you can see perspiration glimmering at his temples as the salty breeze blowing from the beach ruffles the dark curls that flop over his forehead.

"This is my dad's truck," His eyes flash with pride as he hops into the open drivers side door and makes the engine growl. He nods to the empty seat beside him and pushes his dark round sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, fanning his face with his hands. "And you won't be needing your bike today. Now hurry up and get in, loser. I've been waiting ages for your shift to finish and the AC is broken."

You raise a brow. "We're going somewhere?"

"Yeah. Why else would I be waiting for you to get in my truck?"

"I mean, we're going somewhere in this?" You nod towards the truck's worn tires, the fumes that wisp from the exhaust pipe like a lit cigar. "Are you sure it's safe?"

Jungkook notices the way you bite your lip. You don't even have to tell him the worries that are running through your mind. It's as if he can read them like an open book.

"Are you still scared of riding in cars?" He questions, softly.

You nod. That's what an accident does to someone. Makes them scared of something they ordinarily wouldn't even question.

"A little." The breeze ruffles your hair and you hide behind it. "I'm getting better." You add, so he doesn't feel bad because you know he does. His face tells you as much.

"It's a short drive, if that helps." He rushes. "And I asked Taehyung and he said you'd be okay, but if you aren't then I can just walk you home—"

"No." You shake your head firmly. There's a funny fizzing in your stomach that's been there ever since that day on the boardwalk, and it's only growing stronger and stronger now you're inches away from Jungkook and his warm eyes and gentle smile. You don't want it to end just yet. It's enough to outweigh the wriggling fear that's always inside you just a little. "Where are we going?"

Jungkook's face lights up and your heart flips when you realise it's because of you.

"I told you I was gonna make you see what I see, didn't I?"

"Oh that was today?" You tease. "Must have missed it it in the calendar."

"Stop asking questions! Just get in. Please?"

"Fine." You walk around to the passenger door, sliding in beside him and throwing your bag into the back seat. "But I need to be home by midnight or Taehyung will worry."

"No problemo." Jungkook salutes as he switches on the engine and the truck roars to life. You clasp your hands tightly in your lap and breathe through your nose. You're okay. You're safe."Home by midnight. It's a promise."

You gaze out of the window to stop your thoughts from running wild. Jungkook turns left, away from town and the beach and everything familiar. You watch it get smaller and smaller in the mirrors, strangely relieved. Strangely excited.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" You ask.

"Nope." Jungkook chuckles when you pout. "Just sit back. Relax. Take in the view. Listen to the music."

He leans across the dash, making a point to keep his eyes on the road as he fiddles with the stereo. A familiar string of guitar chords fill the truck. You recognise them, even if vaguely. Probably from Taehyung's vast collection of records.

"The Beatles right?" You ask, resting your chin on your knee as you dare to take a peek at him, blushing when you find him already staring at you.

"Pfft, yeah. Of course it's The Beatles! Only their greatest soundtrack, like, ever."

You shrug. "I've never listened to them before, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh come on? You haven't seen A Hard Day's Night?" His eyes widen when you shake your head. "Super Fly? Pulp Fiction? Purple Rain?"

You stifle a giggle at the look of pure shock he's sending you. "Nope. Should I have?"

"Absolutely!" He splutters. Passion shines in his eyes. "You're missing out on some of the greatest cinematography known to man!"

"I guess you have a lot to fill me in on, then."

"I sure do." His eyes soften. "Open the glove box."

You open it. Inside you find an assortment of cassette tapes, old and new. You send him a curious look.

"Close your eyes and choose one." He nods. "Go on."

You do as he says and shut your lids tightly, feeling around until your fingers curl around a tape you're strangely drawn to. When you open your eyes you find a worn box in your palm, yellow at the edges, and you're momentarily disappointed until Jungkook hums in approval beside you.

"Good choice! Dirty Dancing. A classic." He takes it from you and slides the tape into the stereo. It crackles a little before the music starts. "Trust me, you'll love it."

The stereo tracklist flashes amber. 01: Do You Love Me?

"You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance," Jungkook sings along in a deep voice, eyebrows bouncing as you loll your head to the side to send him an eye roll. "And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down!"

The song starts, all vibrant guitar and drums. It has a funky 60's groove, like it belongs in a swing dancing club instead of on the highway at sunset. It's a happy song and you think it suits Jungkook just right.

Speaking of Jungkook, he starts to bob his head in time with the beat, fingertips tapping in rhythm against the steering wheel. He looks adorably dorky, losing himself to the song, like he's forgotten you're even sat beside him.

"You look like an idiot." You deadpan, though you can't cover the laugh that escapes you as he sings along louder.

"No, I look like I'm having fun!" Jungkook rolls down the window and turns up the music so loud he has to shout for you to hear him. "Don't you ever do this? Just give in to the music for a while? Let your body do what it wants?"

"Uh, no. I prefer to just listen." You shout back. "Besides, your body should be focused on driving this car right now--"

"Oh come on! Just try it."

"Try it?" You blink, stomach suddenly knotting."Like now? In front of you?"

"Well duh. Look. Copy me."

He starts to shake his shoulders from side to side, fingers clicking as he nods for you to do the same.

"I...okay." You start to copy, but you catch yourself in the rear view mirror and you just look stiff compared to how effortlessly Jungkook moves to the rhythm.

"See you're doing it!" Jungkook grins, throwing his head back. "Feels good huh?"

"Kinda..." You have to admit there is something liberating about just letting go. "Like this?"

Your knees volunteer themselves to the beat, and then your arms, and before you know it you've got your eyes closed, hair whipping around your face as you speed down the interstate

"That's it. Feel the music!"

Before you know it, the song ends and you realise all at once that you're laughing. Loud and free, enough to make your belly hurt. Jungkook is too, the sound better than any song you've ever heard, and neither of you can seem to stop.

"Oh my god." You pant, covering your face with your fingers, embarrassed. "Now we both look like idiots."

"Don't hide from me." Jungkook bites his lip. You're suddenly aware of how close he is. His arms grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face, but he doesn't drop the one closest to him. Instead he links your fingers and uses your shared grip to change the gear as he turns down a winding road.

"I'm shy." You say, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

"Why? You're beautiful." Jungkook puts the car into park. You realise all at once that you've been driving for ages and you didn't even panic once. "Besides, we've arrived. And you're not gonna wanna miss seeing this."

The destination Jungkook seems so excited about turns out to be a concrete parking lot.

"Where are we, Jungkook?" You ask, looking around but finding nothing but tyre tracks and dirt.

Jungkook has already hopped out of the drivers side, sliding over the hood of the car to tug open your door with a quirk of his brow.

He holds out his palm, upturned and calloused. "Do you trust me?"

You bite your lip, heart pounding. Do you trust him?

Your body speaks for you and you slide your hand into his. His thumb traces your knuckles reassuringly.

"Yes." You breathe. "I trust you."

"Good."

You yelp when an arm wraps around your waist and hoists you out of the car, tightly interlocked fingers blocking your vision like a makeshift blindfold. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to."

"Okay." You giggle, feet stumbling as you try to find your balance with the help of a sturdy hand beneath your elbow.

Jungkook hums gently beneath his breath as he guides you up a path that turns from concrete to loose rock to dampened grass beneath the soles of your beat up sneakers. There's a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to be nervous; who knows where he could be taking you right now.

But as you breathe in the musty notes of his cologne and feel your heart flutter in your chest when he comes to a stop and rests his chin on your shoulder, just close enough to feel his laugh ghost across your neck, you don't care where in the world you are right now as long as it's beside him.

"Now, open."

The sun is startlingly bright when you open your eyes for the first time and see the vibrant meadow that stretches as far as you can see.

Wait — that's not the sun. It's sunflowers. Clusters of them, cheerfully waving with the breeze from where you stand on the path that continues for a few steps before it disappears among their stems.

The sunflowers are a burst of golden colour against the fading green of the meadow, and the horizon beyond that which boasts the silhouette of beach rock against the soft blue of the ocean at sunset. There's tracks here and there where the uncut grass is trampled, like some children had played hide and seek.

You reach out a hand and brush your fingertips over the velvety petals; breathe in the botanical scent of the fresh sunny blooms that dances through the meadow. It's breathtaking, you think. There's no coordination, just freedom choreographed by the wind as the tall stems sway back and forth in their gentle dance.

Before you know it you've taken off into a run, grinning with childlike glee when the tall grass tickles your nose and the sun whispers against your neck.

"Jungkook, this place is—"

"Beautiful right?" You nod breathlessly, blushing deeply when you come to a stop and find him staring right at you. He squeezes your hand and that's when you notice your fingers are still interlinked. "I come here a lot. When I need to think."

"How did you find this place?"

"Taehyung and I stumbled upon it a few summers ago by accident." He says. "Nobody knows about it. It's our secret."

"It's so beautiful." You whisper. "The whole world needs to see this."

Jungkook kicks at a stone with the toe of his boot. "I kinda like it being a secret. This place...is special to me."

"Then why...." The words get caught in your throat. You swallow and try again. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I wanted to show you the things I find most beautiful. Remember?"

"The sunflowers?"

"Well yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck. Swallows thickly, like he's preparing himself. "But I was thinking of something a little different..."

You close your eyes, a smile appearing on your lips as you let the crisp breeze caress your face. "Then what?"

There's a sharp click of a shutter, and when your lashes flutter open in surprise, Jungkook is shaking a Polaroid picture back and forth, his eyes glinting with something mischievous.

"Hey! Give me that—" You reach for the Polaroid, stomach churning with a sudden shyness that makes you hug your arms.

"Just — don't do that okay?" He holds it out of reach, pleading with his eyes. "Please."

"Do what?"

"Give up on what makes you happy just because you're scared." His palm cups your cheek. "You said it yourself. Being in front of the camera is where you belong. Don't you see that?"

"I'm not scared." You feel the heat rise in your cheeks when Jungkook sends you a knowing look. "Okay maybe I am scared. And so what if I am? You've already given me the face your fears spiel and I told you. I'm perfectly happy avoiding every camera known to man for the rest of my life if it means I never have to face them."

"But you've already faced one of your fears today. You got in my car, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Well, two technically, 'cause you're here with me now and I know how nervous you used to get around me--"

"Did not!"

"Do too! Every time we talk outside of work you get all shy and--"

"Shut up."

"See! You're doing it right now!"

You don't know what compels you to do it. Maybe it's the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks or the way your heart quickens when Jungkook closes the gap between you, but before you can stop yourself you're reaching up and grasping his face with both hands.

"Oh just shut up and kiss me, doofus."

The smug smirk on Jungkook's face is replaced with wide eyed surprise, his lips falling still for a moment when yours crash against his. But then his steady hands find your waist and he supports you on your tip toes so he can pull you ever closer, melting into the plush press of your lips.

When you pull back, you're smiling. You can't help it. You've been dreaming of this moment since, like, middle school. And goddamn, he even tastes how you imagined. Like black coffee and toothpaste.

"See." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Happiness suits you."

"Whatever, Jeon." You smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, but it's thanks to you."

Jungkook flashes you the biggest bunny grin you've ever seen, eyes sparkling at your words.

"Wait...stay like that." He reaches for his camcorder in his backpack and points the lens at you. The smile falls from your lips. You place a hand on his arm, grip tighter than you intended.

"Jungkook stop."

"What's wrong? Just keep smiling like that, the shot was perfect—"

"I don't know what to do." You shrug, the lens boring into you like a judgy aunt at Thanksgiving dinner. "The camera makes me nervous."

"Just pretend I'm not here."

You sniff. "I don't want you to not be here..."

"Listen," Jungkook cups your face, thumbs tracing your cheeks fondly. "The reason I brought you here? It's because this place reminds me of you. Beautiful."

"Jungkook--"

"Just like you said, the world needs to see this place. Just like they need to see you."

"I..." Your heart is on the verge of exploding, you would swear it. "Okay." The word rolls off your tongue before you can stop it because somehow you trust him. And deep down, there's still that fizz of excitement mixing in with all the nervousness. The Jungkook Effect. You don't want to lose it to the darkness like everything else.

"I'll try. Just-- don't laugh at me okay?"

"You have my word, sarge." He salutes with a thoughtful grin. "Hold on a sec. I know exactly what you need to get you going."

Jungkook jumps to his feet and you watch with your chin tucked between your knees as he jogs down the rocky path and opens all four of the truck doors, even the trunk, before his head disappears into the vehicle and the same pumping bass from earlier starts blasting into the quiet serene of the sunflower field.

"There," He grins as he returns, out of breath, and sits back down beside you cross legged, holding his camcorder to his eye. "Now do what you were doing before again, but over there. Just pretend you're on stage at the Crestmont, okay?"

You feel the music wash over you and the urge to move hits you like a wave. Jungkook nods encouragingly and there's something in his eyes that flips a switch inside you. And for the first time in a long time, all the passion and spirit and feeling inside you fizzes up to the top and you can't contain it any longer.

"That's it!" Jungkook calls, shutter clicking uncontrollably. "I knew you could do it!"

An oak tree provides sun-flecked shade, a cool sanctuary from the sun that sets on the horizon and splashes the sky's canvas magenta.

Jungkook laid out a checkered blanket from the trunk of his truck which you both lay upon, shoulders pressed together as close as humanly possible, surrounded by your devoured picnic consisting of his mom's fruit punch and bags of snacks he took from the concession stand at the Crestmont when nobody was looking.

"Holy shit, Y/N." He says through a mouthful of popcorn, jabbing his finger at his favourite shot of you in front of the sunflowers. "This is what I've been saying! You're a natural in front of the camera."

"No, you're amazing, Jungkook." You feel for his hand. It's funny how natural it feels already when his pinky links with yours. "Behind the camera."

"You think?" He chews his lip, eyes searching yours for approval.

"I know. You should do something with these. People need to see them."

"I'm thinking of becoming a filmographer, actually"

"Like at the pier?" You think of the tacky photo booth that overlooks the sea in town, fit with all the silly cardboard cut outs that tourists come and take a photo with for a dollar.

"No, I mean a real filmographer." He shrugs, and you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his cheeks. "Y'know. Movies and stuff."

You nod. It makes sense for Jungkook to spend his life with a camera glued to his right hand. You can't imagine Jungkook anywhere else, and you have to ignore the sinking feeling that comes with the realisation that he would eventually leave Ocean City -- and you -- behind for the big screen.

"Well you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.

"Always."

He must see the sadness brimming inside you, his body shuffling closer so your knees brush. It's reassuring somewhat.

"Actually...there's something I should tell you."

He shifts under your gaze. The nerves rush back. "What is it?"

"I guess I finished writing my first screenplay..."

"That's like a movie script, right?" You ask eagerly, and he nods. "That's great, Kook!"

"Yeah, it's great it's just --" He pauses, and clutches your hand tighter like he's scared what he says next will make you let go forever. "It's about you."

You pale. "M-me?"

"I mean, it's about you and...and Taehyung! And your mom." Jungkook rushes. "I was inspired by your story at the boardwalk and it just happened! I'm sorry, I know you probably hate me now and think I'm crazy but--"

"Burn it." You deadpan.

Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"

"I said burn it." You pull his hand into your lap and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't hate you, Kook. I just think you were right earlier when you said I need to face my fears. And the only way I can do that is by forgetting my past. The last thing I need is a whole freaking movie about it."

He joins in with your strained chuckles. "Sure you aren't mad?"

"Not mad." You assure with a smile.

"Then I'll burn it."

You avoid his gaze shyly. "I'm kinda honoured you wrote about me, though." You admit.

"I guess...I guess I could call you my muse." Jungkook blurts hurriedly. His nose is a deep shade of pink and it makes you want to tease him forever.

"Yeah." You nod to yourself with a smile. "I like that. Your muse."

And then his lips are on yours again, like he can't quite help himself, and you start to forget where yours begin and his end.

This time it's not delicate and sweet. It's slow and languid, hot and heavy. The sunflowers break your fall, Jungkook's lips never leaving yours as he climbs on top of you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other planted beside your head so that his chest hovers above yours. You're almost certain he can feel how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, but you don't care, too lost in the bliss of finally feeling Jungkook's plush lips against your own.

"Come to New York with me." He says breathlessly between kisses, and your heart stops.

"What?" You can hardly drag your lips away from his but you have to be sure you heard him right. New York?

"I mean, in the future. I'm gonna go to New York. Get a job at a film production company or something, I don't know--" He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Come with me."

"I...I can't."

"Why?" He frowns. "Is it me?"

"No! God no."

"Then why? You said it was your dream right?" You nod. "So what's stopping you?"

"I..I have to take care of Taehyung, and my job at the Crestmont and--"

"Okay. Lets pretend none of that exists. It's just you and me." His breath ghosts against your forehead. "Y/N, will you come to New York with me?"

"Yes." It comes out breathless, but you mean it. With every atom and nerve and fiber in your body. "Lets go to New York."

Where things change.

3 years later.

A postcard sits on the Welcome Home! Doormat you and Jungkook bought before you left for New York. You recognise the picture perfect image of Ocean City on the front, and Taehyung's messy scrawl on the back that tells you he's doing fine at his new management job at the Crestmont and he will be sending a housewarming gift imminently.

— Stay smiling, Y/N. Miss you already! Taehyung. :)

With a small smile you tack it onto the bare fridge. It brightens up the empty kitchen somewhat, a little piece of home and a reminder that you don't need to worry about leaving your brother behind to fend for himself so much any more. Since he pulled his life together and got a job at the theatre, it's like he came alive again. Found his purpose.

Speaking of purposes, you suppose that's how you found yourself here. In your very own apartment in a nice complex on the east side. The east side of New York City.

There's a pair of satin curtains hung over the balcony doors, probably left behind by the old tenant as it's the only form of furniture in the whole apartment. They rustle in the morning breeze and you tiptoe across the room barefoot to rip them open, letting your eyes flutter shut when the early morning sun filters through the glass and cascades over your face like a warm embrace.

You press a hand to the glass, studying your reflection; the messy lump of hair atop your head, the soft shadow of your lashes atop your cheeks. And beyond it, New York. Your new normal in all it's familiar glory from your dreams, yet still so deliciously foreign it makes your heart leap whenever a cab horn rings out in the distance or you breathe in the smell of fresh bagels from the shop down the street.

Home. You could finally call it that now. But New York is just a city and this apartment is just a house. The real reason you get to call this place home is because of who you came here with.

Jungkook.

You've been dating for two and a half years by now. He let you borrow one of his old much-too-big t-shirts to sleep in last night. There's a hole in the shoulder and the hem brushes your knees but it's warm and smells like his cologne and your heart expands when you close your eyes and remember this is just the beginning. You have so much to do, so many things to see here in New York. So many things to learn. And there's nobody you would want to explore life with more than Jungkook.

His camera equipment lays in a cardboard box by your feet, and something compels you to take out the old-school camcorder he loves. The leather strap tightens perfectly around your hand and the red RECORD button flashes as you open the doors wide and lift the lens to take in the view. Something tells you you're gonna want to remember this moment forever.

It's not long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked cheekily into your shoulder. "There you are." Jungkook husks, stilly groggy with sleep as his lips ghost across your cheek.

Turning around in his grasp, you find him still shirtless, sweatpants slung low around his hips. He's been working out recently, and you can't deny you don't love how firm his shoulders feel when you brace yourself on them to stand on your tip toes and leave a peck to his lips.

"Morning sleepyhead," you say, running your fingers through the strands of his silky bed hair. It's longer these days, whispering across the nape of his neck and falling across his round eyes sweetly. They flutter closed when you massage his scalp just how he likes it. "I was wondering when you'd finally get out of bed."

"Missed you." His lips turn up when he sees the camera pointed at his face. "Whaddya doing with that?"

"Making memories." You say simply, zooming in on him as he rubs his sleepy eyes. "So we never forget this."

A cheeky smirk appears on his lips as he wraps you in his arms, a surprised giggle leaving you when he spins you around and grabs the camera so he can point it at the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder now as his bare arm snugly wraps around your waist.

"Hey stop! I just woke up, I look bad!"

"Hello us of the future," Jungkook chuckles, pulling your fingers away from your face when you bury your face in his chest to hide from the lens. "It's our first day in New York and Y/N is being all camera shy--okay, okay fine, lets show them the view instead!"

Jungkook finally flips the lens around so it focuses on the distant silhouettes of tall skyscrapers skimming the blue skyline, before he turns it back onto you guys once more with a mischievous look this time.

"But we have to go now because we have far more interesting business to attend to..." He lowers the camera as his lips start to trail up your collar bone and he smiles when your eyes flutter shut and you gasp at the feeling, but it's quickly replaced by a pout when you wriggle out of his embrace with a stern look.

"Not now. Later."

"Mmf? Why?" He whines, making grabby hands towards you. "You're so warm, jus' wanna cuddle for a bit."

"No time!" You call over your shoulder as you grab him by the hand and drag his heavy feet behind you. "We've got an apartment to decorate."

Before you know it you've enlisted Jungkook's help in laying tarps across the living room floor, two pots of bright white paint plonked in the center. It's not like you could afford a decorator after all. You are two broke twenty-something's trying to make it big in New York, and all that cliche stuff. So you would just have to do it yourselves.

Jungkook's over in the corner, miming along to the guitar solo from some rock song playing from the radio balanced on the windowsill, the paint roller his instrument as he dances around the room with giddy impulse. There's paint all over his butt where he accidentally leaned against one of the wet walls and he's got his hair tied back into a bun at the crown of his head and you watch him out of the corner of your eye while an affectionate smile creeps onto your face no matter how hard you try to curb it.

That's when you notice the camera in his other hand. He zooms in on the stepladder in the corner, the paint spillage in the hall, the heart with Y/N + JUNGKOOK FOREVER written inside it on the back wall. Documenting everything as usual.

He was always filming you, too. Whether you were making coffee in the morning or drying your hair. He'd even slow down beside you on the sidewalk to get the perfect shot.

You find it cute, even though you pretend to hate it. It makes your heart flutter every time you catch him rewinding the footage with a contented smile on his face, like he just captured the whole world with his lens.

It's no surprise when you finish putting the final coat on the wall and step back to admire your handy work that you find him wandering around the apartment with his hand curved around the lens of one of his bigger cameras like it's natural to him. You always joke that thing is like an extra limb, but he looks so calm as he looks through his lens at the room that is now drunk on the afternoon sun pouring through the window, the golden rays like honey on his skin, that it's easy to see that the camera really is a part of him. Passion lies in the soft lines of concentration on his face, in the plump lip tugged between teeth as he fiddles with the settings.

Jungkook sees beauty where others don't, where others can't. It might as well pump through his veins. And it's one of the reasons you love him so much.

You shake your head when you see how a small smile finds his lips when he leans a shoulder against the door frame and lets the camera land on the thing he swears is most beautiful.

"Hey." You warn, shooting a side wards glare at the camera lens you spot Jungkook not so discreetly pointing in your direction. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling back into a sly bunny smile when you bend down to reach a spot you missed at the bottom of the wall. "I'm not doing anything."

Your upper lip twitches. "Are you zooming in on my ass?"

"What? No!" Jungkook scrunches his nose with wide eyes, a habit you knew meant he was guilty, a pout forming on your lips as he snaps the viewfinder closed and shoves the offending piece of his equipment behind his back.

You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He blows a strand of hair out of his face innocently but there's a playful glint in his eyes and you can hardly keep a serious face as you plant your hands on your hips in what you hope is a menacing manner.

"Then lemme see it." You challenge with a nod to the camera behind him.

He feigns indifference, cocking his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. "See what?"

"That's it!" You shake your head, charging towards and him making grabby motions towards the camera. Jungkook looks down at you fondly as he holds it above your head, out of reach, and it only makes you you pout harder. "Hey! Give it!

"Never!" You jump pitifully, fingers grasping around nothing. A melodic chuckle spills from Jungkook's lips when you cross your arms over your chest in defeat and blink up at him crossly. "You have to say the magic word first."

You scoff at the teasing look on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows and waves the camera just above your head, before an idea strikes you and within seconds you're wielding a paintbrush, Jungkook's eyes widening when you point the paint coated bristles at his face.

"Give it up." You hold out your palm with a smug look. "Or the walls are not the only thing getting a fresh coat."

"You wouldn't." He smirks, despite being backed into a corner now.

"Oh yeah?" Without further ado you swipe the brush down the bridge of his nose, swallowing a giggle at the white smudge it leaves behind and his shocked expression beneath it. "You underestimate me, Jeon."

Jungkook pushes his tongue into his cheek, eyes dancing up and down your body before they lock with yours daringly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Or what?" You taunt playfully, a laugh escaping you, but you quickly bite down on your lip when you see the glint in Jungkook's eyes as he submerges both his hands into the nearby bucket of paint.

You don't run when he steps closer. Instead your breathing quickens, heart doing a funny somersault when he brushes your hair to the side and clamps both of his wet hands on the sides of your jaw to bring your face up to his.

He tastes like coffee and desire when your lips crash together in a delicious tangle of teeth and tongue, all the thoughts racing through your mind dripping away like honey until all that's left is the thump of your heart against your chest and Jungkook's warmth as he backs you up against the wall.

When he pulls away he rubs his paint covered nose against yours, cocking his head and smiling sweetly when he leans back and admires his handy work.

"You have paint on your face." He looks down at his white hands innocently with a shrug. "Whoops?"

His hands trail down to your hips. You reach to your side and grab a fistful of paint, wiping it down the centre of his face and giggling when he groans and scrunches his eyes closed . "So do you."

"Okay, that's it. This means war!" Jungkook growls, strong arms wrapping around your waist, and before you know it you're stumbling over to the mattress in the corner, Jungkook's body hovering over yours.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" Desire-filled eyes trace your face, travelling down the expanse of your neck before zeroing in on your collar bones. You gasp when Jungkook's lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin, every inch of you set alight when his burning fingers slide beneath the hem of your tshirt and find your thighs. "Always being such a bad girl, huh?"

"So? What're you gonna do about it? Punish me?" You say teasingly, and he stiffens, lips leaving a mark behind on your neck with a pop. Jungkook's narrowed eyes meet yours and you feel your heart speed up with anticipation.

His lips twitch, like they're dying to turn up. "Brat."

With that, you're being flipped over onto your knees with a yelp. Jungkook's hands work quickly and before you know it your tshirt is over your head and the sudden breeze from the open balcony doors against your hardened nipples makes you gasp.

"You love it." You laugh breathily.

"Too much," Jungkook confirms, before his large palm presses you down into the bed firmly between the shoulder blades so that your ass is thrust up in the air. You wiggle is teasingly, though the breath catches in your throat when the first spank lands on your bare skin. Then a second, the sound ringing out through the empty room like an echo and making a damp spot appear on your panties.

"Hey!" You chastise when you remember the paint on his hands that just left two glaring handprints right across your ass.

Jungkook just smirks. "What? Now everyone knows it's mine."

A third slap and you have to bite the blanket to stop from groaning, then a fourth, and a fifth and by then your eyes are watering but in the best way. Calloused hands smooth over the burning area, soothing it.

"Good girl," A raspy voice whispers next to your ear. "Such a good girl for me, taking your punishment. I think you deserve your reward now, hm?"

"Please." You moan as he reaches around to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipples in a way that has you writhing beneath him.

"Don't say I didn't warn you though," Jungkook chuckles as he rips your panties down your legs, gasping at the sight of your dripping slit like it's the first time. He runs a finger down your folds, biting back a groan when it makes your legs fall open a little further, desperate for his touch. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Jungkook, what do you-- oh!." Before you can finish, Jungkook is pushing your face back into the comforter, spreading your cheeks with his palms and licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your throbbing core. His tongue finds your clit easily, toying it with the tip playfully until you're gasping for air.

"Mmf, tastes so good." He murmurs against your folds, the vibrations of his chuckle making you moan so hard your legs start to shake. His tongue finds your hole, swirling around teasingly before it slips inside and you can't handle it anymore.

"Jungkook!" You gasp, reaching behind to grab his hair. "I..I can't-"

"You can." He says, almost a command, mouth leaving your pussy only so he can slide over onto his back and pull you back down onto his face by the hips.

"Oh g-god!" Your hand reaches for the headboard, landing on the wall to steady yourself when you remember you still haven't bought a bed frame yet. Your legs are starting to ache from holding yourself up but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping at your swollen folds as you grind in lazy circles on his face.

"C-close, Kook." You manage to splutter, head thrown back with pleasure when he slides two of his fingers inside you and starts to pump in time with his tongue, the sensation of being filled enough to send you over the edge into a shuddering climax that is unlike anything you've felt before, the only thought on your mind the way your hole clenches around your boyfriend's fingers.

It takes a few moments for your legs to stop shaking, your hearing slowly coming back into focus as you hear both of your heavy breaths intermingled. You look between your legs to find Jungkook staring up at you with a grin, eyes filled with wonder. His chin gleams with your juices, the front of his t-shirt damp as you realise with a gasp what just happened.

"Did I--?"

"Yup."

"Holy fuck." You swing your leg over his shoulder so you're beside him, Jungkook sitting up to look at you, still mesmerised. "I...I'm sorry, that was--"

"The hottest thing you've ever done." Jungkook finishes, grinning at you like he just won the lottery.

You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"

You can't help but laugh at his eager puppy dog eyes, hands practically twitching at his sides to touch you. A quick glance at his crotch confirms the biggest tent in his pants you've ever seen, and you crook a finger towards him with a sultry smile and a nod.

"Let's see if you can make me do that again."

"O-Okay!" Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head eagerly, and then he's on top of you, burning skin meeting burning skin. Your palm runs down his chest, Jungkook's eyes falling shut when it reaches the hem of his sweatpants. You cant help but gasp when your fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, core already throbbing again to be filled. He shivers when your finger circles his tip, admiring the wet patch on his boxers.

"Eager?" You smirk.

"You squirted on my face, Y/N, of course I'm goddamn eager."

"Get these off then." You tug at his pants and he kicks them off without a second telling.

"Your wish is my command."

When he returns to hovering over you, both completely bare now, he pauses. His eyes meet yours, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and grips your jaw protectively.

"I love you, y'know."

You close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his but barely able to keep yourself from grinning with the elation swirling in your chest. "I love you too, doofus. Now hurry up or I'm gonna have to fuck myself."

"That sounds kinda awesome--"

"Kook!"

"Okay, okay, on it!"

Palms spread your legs, and you both gasp when Jungkook runs the blunt head of his leaking cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices before he lines it up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He checks, thumb tracing circles into your inner thigh.

"As I'll ever be."

And with that, he pushes inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a sigh of relief at finally feeling your walls clenching around his throbbing length. The stretch of his girth stings, but it makes you feel so deliciously full, so perfectly whole to be connected to Jungkook like this that all you can get out is another soft I love you that earns a blissful smile from your boyfriend as he starts to move.

Each stroke makes you lose your breath, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. It's when Jungkook takes your nipple into his mouth that you feel a second orgasm start to build, one hand gripping the sheets as the other drags scratch marks down his muscular back in blissful agony.

It's not long before Jungkook spills inside you with a deep growl, your own high hitting you as you feel him coat your walls. He collapses onto your chest, breaths deep and exhausted, and wraps you in his arms before you can even catch your breath.

Jungkook pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and places a kiss to the top of your head. He's so warm you feel yourself start to drift off into a blissful sleep, the smile on your lips never faltering.

"I love you too." Is the last thing you hear him say before sleep takes you under, and you're safe wrapped up in each other's arms.

When you open your eyes, the room is warm with sunset's rose tinted blush, and Jungkook's body is no longer beside you. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sit up on your elbow and find him on the ground in front of the freshly painted wall, intricate petals and stems flowing from the end of the paintbrush he delicately waves across the surface to paint the prettiest sunflower you've ever seen.

"I'm home!" You hear your boyfriend yell out as he shuffles into the apartment, quickly followed by a yelp. "Hey, Gureum, stop trying to lick my face!"

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your features when a ball of white fluff comes bounding into the living room, the puppy that excitedly jumps into your arms tracking a trail of muddy paw prints over the script in your hands.

"Hey Gureum," You coo, scratching him behind the ears where you know his sweet spot is. "You're such a good boy, huh?"

"Don't praise him! He totally ran away from me in Central Park and I had to chase him all the way home!" You can practically hear Jungkook's eye roll, shaking your head fondly at the mock annoyance in his voice. It was Jungkook who begged you to adopt a puppy for months in the first place, and they've been more or less inseparable ever since — the little guy hardly ever leaves his side. It's safe to say Jungkook is definitely Gureum's favourite.

The smell of coffee and fresh bagels wafts through the apartment, a warm sensation settling in your stomach as your boyfriend rounds the corner and waves a brown paper bag.

"Still got us enough coffee to stay up all night learning lines though." Jungkook grins, dumping the contents onto the coffee table and raising his eyebrows when your hands dart straight for the chocolate cookies. "Speaking of learning lines, how is it going, pretty?"

He nods towards the script in your hand. It's worn at the edges and ferociously dog eared from all the nights you have stayed up until sunrise reciting the words littered across the pages over and over, until it's like your lips are moving by muscle memory and the words are a part of you.

After what felt like hundreds of failed auditions, you had started to lose hope. With every letter that landed on the porch with another SORRY or MAYBE NEXT TIME, you felt all the confidence in the dream you worked so hard to uncover start to dwindle.

But Jungkook was always there, by your side no matter what. Encouraging you when you forgot your lines or holding you when you didn't get the callback. Reminding you to eat whenever you were too absorbed in your work to cook or cheering you on from the crowd at your weekly improv performances.

It was Jungkook who cried with you when the director of the small theatre downtown called and gave you the lead part in his upcoming stage production. Your big break. And you were determined to make sure everything ran smoothly at opening night tomorrow, which is how you find yourself snuggled up on the couch rewinding your VHS copy of Dirty Dancing over and over again until you have every word memorised by heart.

"Pretty good." You say as you pop a salted peanut into your mouth while Jungkook slips out of his tweed jacket. He's been trying to dress more New-York-ish these days, or so he says. More dress pants and less sweats. "Final rehearsals start at five."

"Aren't you nervous?" Jungkook squishes into the space beside you, Gureum cuddling up between your bodies.

Tomorrow night's show is sold out, along with every night after that for the next week. You heard there were going to be at least 700 people there each night.

"Terribly." You admit, stomach churning at the thought of 700 pairs of eyes staring right at you. You try to focus on the fizzing excitement that lingers there too, growing stronger and stronger. "But I think I'm more excited".

"I'm excited to see you up there doing what you love." Jungkook smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "My star."

"Well don't get too excited because I still keep messing up this one goddamn scene," You flip the script to a page covered in bright highlighter scribbles and run your fingers through your hair exasperatedly. "I'm totally gonna mess it up and then I'll never get another job and—"

"Shhh," Jungkook takes the script from your hands and runs his eyes over it quickly. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be amazing — hold up..." He raises an eyebrow. "Is this...the kiss scene?"

You feel your cheeks redden, voice small. "Yes."

"Then you're in luck because who better to help you practice than the best kisser in all of New York?"

You snort. "Wow, I sure could use some of your expertise Good-Sir-Makes-Out-A-Lot."

"Then you're in the right place..." He runs his finger over the script, jabbing at one line in particular.

[Johnny and Baby kiss.]

"Let's start here, hm? For practice, obviously."

"For practice." Your eyes roll but your heart still beats a little faster as he closes the space between you, hand pressing into the wall so his sturdy body hovers over yours, hands instinctively pulling him closer by the collar.

"Come give me a kiss, m'lady..." Jungkook murmurs, but before he can tilt your chin up towards his lips there's a sudden series of frantic knocks at the front door.

"What the heck?"

You both jump out of your skin, Jungkook's eyes narrowing as he glances over his shoulder at the shadowy figure outside, fist pounding the glass fervently, like they're trying to break it down.

"Okay, damn, I'm coming!" He yells with a roll of his eyes. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders as he hops up from the couch with a sigh. "Probably just some dumb marketer again or something — dude, chill! I said I'm coming! — be right back."

The lock slides open and you hear Jungkook gasp. Your stomach drops. "Who is it?"

"Uh, Y/N..." You hear the door click shut and the sound of squeaky shoes shuffling inside. The anxiety in Jungkook's voice makes your heart skip. "You might wanna come see this."

"Huh?" Your legs feel shaky as you follow him out into the hall, chest seizing when you lay eyes on the dripping wet hair and chattering teeth of the shivering man stood before you, eyes dark and grave like they used to be.

"Taehyung?" You splutter, ripping the blanket from around your shoulders and swaddling him in it as quickly as you can, Jungkook already bounding into the other room to get dry clothes and towels after shooting you a terrified glance.

Taehyung grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a tight embrace. His cheeks are wet against your shoulder, but you can't tell if it's because he's been crying or because he's been out in the freezing cold rain — hold on, did he walk here?

"Y/N," He murmurs frantically, eyes darting back and forth but never quite focusing on anything. You knew this look. This is how he looked that day you found out about the accident. Murky, far far away. Devastatingly sad. Something wasn't right.

"What is it?" You ask, pulling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch before his shaking knees buckle beneath him. "What are you doing here, Tae?"

"It's...it's the Crestmont." He whispers.

"What about the Crestmont?" Jungkook appears behind Taehyung, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it's like your brother doesn't even feel it.

"They're tearing it down." He mumbles. "They're tearing down the Crestmont. Forever."

"Okay, now let's start from the beginning."

Jungkook's calm voice lilts from beside Taehyung who, after a warm shower and two cups of cocoa, has stopped shivering and seems to be ready to talk.

A hand reaches across the coffee table to tug on your wrist mid-lift to your mouth, a reminder from Jungkook to stop biting your nails. An old nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in Ocean City but apparently more than just Taehyung showed up here unannounced tonight.

"I...I got a call this morning." Taehyung begins, pausing to take a sip from the mug he cradles in his lap. His hands are shaking so he places it on the coffee table for safe keeping, right beside your discarded script. "It was from a construction company."

"And?" You prod, somewhat impatiently, making Taehyung jump.

"And apparently the owner of the theatre is behind on rent and...and..." He swallows hard. "And they're buying the rights to tear it down and build an apartment complex in its place."

"What?" Both you and Jungkook exclaim at the same time.

Jungkook's fists clench. "I always knew that old man was shady."

Taehyung fumbles in the pocket of the coat he arrived with, retrieving a brochure which he thrusts towards you.

The image on the front is of a metal skyscraper, far too shiny and new to belong in a seaside town like Ocean City. Fusion Apartments — modern living.

Jungkook rakes a hand through his hair, eyes sorrowful as you pass it over to him. "This sucks. Big time." He murmurs. "The Crestmont is the heart of Ocean City. How can they just bulldoze it like it means nothing?"

"That's why..." Taehyung swallows. "That's why I came here. I thought maybe you guys could help me, and we could do something before they—"

"We?" You furrow your brows. "You want us to help stop them from tearing down the Crestmont?"

"I mean yeah, I guess? I figured you guys would understand how important it is—"

You bite your lip. Taehyung flinches when you place a hand on his knee. "Tae. It seems like they've already got it figured out I mean...what can we do about it? The Crestmont has had a long run and maybe it's time for something new in Ocean City..."

"Y/N?" Jungkook warns, but there's a betrayal in his voice. How could you say that? It pains you, but you continue anyway. "What are you saying?"

"I just...I think it's time to let the Crestmont go."

Taehyung stands up so abruptly his mug smashes onto the marble tile.

"How could you?" He roars, but his bottom lip trembles. "The Crestmont is mom's place! It's all we have left of her in that fucking town and you want to just let them burn it to the ground?"

You tut, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of china with a sharp glance at your brother. "For goodness sake, Taehyung. Mom isn't there anymore. She never was. She was always running off with some roadies and leaving us behind because she thought she was something special."

Taehyung scoffs. "What? Just like you?" He grabs the cocoa sodden script, crumpling it up in his shaking fist. "You are exactly the same as her. Running off to New York and leaving me behind to get your big break."

Jungkook steps forward warily. "Taehyung, you don't mean that—"

"Yes I do! If Y/N had just gotten in the car that day she wouldn't have died. It was all her fault. And now she's just gonna let them take what we have left of her."

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

Your stomach sinks. Is that really what Taehyung thinks? You wouldn't blame him. Deep down, his words strike a nerve. Because you know they're true.

Taehyung's eyes are hazy, unfocused. You reach for him dizzily, but he backs away into the hall.

"I shouldn't have come here." Taehyung whispers. He looks between you and Jungkook one last time before he's grabbing his coat and running down the steps to the first floor.

"Taehyung, wait!" You hear Jungkook's footsteps follow him out into the stairwell, but you're trapped on the ground, heaving for air.

Your hands shake as you pull yourself up to the window pane and watch Taehyung disappear into the gloom of the city, the sorrowful raindrops that lash against the glass mirroring the ones on your cheeks.

YOU: Taehyung??? YOU: [CALL IGNORED] YOU: please Tae YOU: can we at least talk about this? YOU: we're worried about you

It's been nearly 12 hours since you watched Taehyung disappear among the hustle and bustle of New York from your apartment window.

You and Jungkook were out all night searching for him. By the time you gave up the sun was rising and the birds were chirping and Jungkook somehow convinced your shivering form to return home to rest with a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart.

"It'll be okay. He'll be okay. He always is."

A phone call to your dad revealed he hadn't returned home that night; so where did he go exactly?

The weight of that question sits heavy in your chest as you sit backstage at the theatre, staring into your own vacant eyes in the dressing room mirror.

It's opening night. The show is due to start in fifteen minutes. Your lips are painted a deep shade of red, hair backcombed to perfection by one of the makeup artists. Beneath the harsh lights of the exposed bulbs that line the mirror, you look almost unrecognisable.

Confident, strong, successful.

Anyone would say your dreams had come true, or something sappy to that effect. But even as you sit among the hustle and bustle of the costume team and breathe in the fragrance of perfume and powder blush, you couldn't feel further away from the New York version of yourself if you tried.

Staring back at you is a reflection of the shy, terrified girl from Ocean City you worked so hard to forget. Yet here she is, mind whirring with worries for her brother instead of the lines she should be rehearsing to death before curtain call.

This should be your big moment. One which you will remember forever. But all you want to do right now is hold Taehyung close like you used to and tell him you're sorry and that you won't leave him again.

"Y/N!" You're snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You cover it with your own, instantly eased somewhat when you glance up and lock eyes with Jungkook in the mirror.

"Y/N, I found him."

"What?!" You jump to your feet, chair scraping obscenely. It draws the eyes of the people around you who quickly register Jungkook's polite smile as their cue to shuffle out of the dressing room and leave you two to talk. "Where is he? I need to talk to him—"

"He's not coming."

"What?"

Jungkook sinks into the chair beside you, forehead creased. He runs a hand through his hair and momentarily you catch a glimpse of the old Jungkook. The Jungkook that always took care of his best friend Taehyung.

"I...I gave him a ticket for the show tonight and told him to come. To see how much this really means to you...but—"

Your finger nails press half moons into your palms. "But what, Kook?"

"He was already leaving for Ocean City."

A sob wracks your frame. "Do you think he hates me?"

Jungkook's arms engulf you before the first tear can roll down your cheek, his chin tucking perfectly into the cleft of your shoulder. "Of course not, he's just...he's hurting right now."

"I can't lose him — not like this, Kook..."

"Shh. It'll all be okay."

You jump back and start to pace. "But it's not okay! What he said last night is true!"

Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"

Your knees buckle and you crumple. You can hardly breathe, shame washing over you as you admit the truth for the first time.

"I caused the accident! I'm the reason my mom's...she's..."

Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, voice soothing. "What are you talking about?"

"The night of the accident she got a call from some big buck director. She was cast in this huge movie. Her big break." You're speaking to fast, but Jungkook nods to tell you he's listening.

"So she told Taehyung and I we were leaving for New York that night. And we were packing our bags before my dad got home and...and I said I wasn't coming. I didn't wanna leave Ocean City behind."

"I kicked and cried and said I didn't want to go, so her and Taehyung took off by themselves and that's when they got into the crash. She was upset and going too fast. It was all because of me." You start to sob. You've never admitted this to anyone before. Not even yourself. It tears your heart in two to say it out loud. "I'm the reason Taehyung's broken."

"You can't think like that." Jungkook clasps your face in his hands, thumb wiping away a stray tear. He looks scared, but his voice stays calm and convincing. "What happened was an accident. You were a kid. None of this is your fault."

"That's why Taehyung must hate me so much." You choke. "I'm doing what mom always wanted to, but she never had the chance because of me."

"Y/N?" A crew member steps into the room awkwardly with a cough. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the show is about to start. The audience is getting restless."

"Go. I'll take care of Taehyung, okay?" Jungkook pulls you to your feet, engulfing you in a final hug before he pushes you towards the stage entrance at the small of your back. "You're needed out there. Show them what you're made of."

Your eyes widen. This can't be happening. Not now.

"I...I can't."

"You can." Jungkook grabs your face and captures your lips, hard. It tastes salty with tears. "You're my star remember?"

"I love you." You whisper when you pull back, fingers reaching for him weakly as a costume designer hurries you towards the door.

"I love you too." Jungkook calls. His smile is the last thing you see before the door slams shut and there's no going back. "Now go break a leg, pretty!"

Particles of dust float in and out of your vision beneath the blinding stage lights.

Everything feels different from side stage. Your heart races as you press your ear to the velvet curtain separating you from the world, listening to the hubbub of laughing children and chattering adults filtering into the theatre. You imagine them taking their seats, buying icecream from the vendors, alive with anticipation.

The lights dim. You hear the director behind you, shouting something about places please! but it's like you're underwater, limbs weighted as you move like a ghost to your position for the opening number.

Your palms are clammy and you wipe them on your dress.

Show starting in 5...

Your legs turn to jelly. You close your eyes and try to calm your racing thoughts.

4...

Taehyung. Is he okay? Why didn't he come tonight?

3...

Shit! What was your opening line again? Goddamnit, Y/N, think!

2...

Mom. Would she be proud?

1...

You open your eyes.

The curtain is gone, and a pair of hands pushes you out into the harsh white spotlight. You shield your eyes with your fingers, heart dropping when you look up and find hundreds of eyes staring. Staring right at you.

It's like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into the cool water below. Or fall.

Everything starts to blur. You're a teenager again, stood on the stage at the Crestmont. Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you don't know whether to scream or to run.

Run. Run. Run.

Your mouth opens, then closes. There's an awkward cough from the audience. Words run your mind in circles, but none of them are right, and before they can reach your lips they evaporate on your tongue.

Your panicked eyes roam the sea of seats that zoom in and out of focus. Your knees buckle, and you're sure you are going to pass out right here in front of everyone, but then your eyes meet a familiar pair of brown ones that makes the room stop spinning for a moment.

Jungkook. He's smiling at you, fingers crossed in his lap. There's not a trace of nerves in his gaze as he nods for you to go ahead.

I believe in you.

Just then the door to the theatre flies open and every head in the audience turns towards the darkly clothed figure shuffling through the aisles, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's until he reaches the empty seat beside your boyfriend.

He lets down his hood, shakes free a head of blonde hair that's still damp from the rain. He's out of breath, like he ran here.

Taehyung.

Your brother looks up at you, frozen in place, and his eyes soften. He flashes you a thumbs up and his lips curl around the four words you needed to hear.

You can do this.

And just like that, the panic disappears. The words come flooding back, and your body flies into action, moving across the stage

You forget all about the fear, and the anxiety, and Taehyung and the Crestmont. For now it's just you and the stage, together in harmony.

And you've never felt more alive than when you take your final bow and the crowd roars to life, just like you always imagined it would.

Your jaw hurts from smiling, and before you know it you're crying. Because when you squint against the theatre lights, you see Taehyung and Jungkook in the front row, holding each other and shouting your name.

Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!

"Hey! Be careful!"

The bouquet of congratulatory geraniums cradled in your arms gets crushed between your body and your brother's. He practically tackled you as soon as you entered the dressing room, carried on the cheering shoulders of the other cast and crew members.

"Holy shit." Taehyung holds you at arms length. His eyes are ringed red around the edges. "You were amazing, Y/N."

"You really think so?" Tears start to well and you're so happy to see him that you throw your arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you came, Tae."

"Yeah. You were just like her." He smiles. "Just like mom."

You share a small, sad smile. You've heard those words all your life but it feels different when it comes from Taehyung.

Jungkook pops his head into the room. He catches your eye over Taehyung's shoulder, and flashes you a small smile when he sees you cradling him in your arms.

Talk to him. He mouths, and you're suddenly reminded of why Taehyung came here in the first place.

"Hey listen—"

"Taehyung—"

You both start to talk, bursting into easy laughter when the other stops, seemingly hit with the same idea at the same time.

"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.

"Okay." He pulls you over to the couch. "I'm just...I'm sorry for storming out last night. I shouldn't have come here and expected you to help me—"

"No, stop. I'm sorry." You place a hand over his. "I want to help." You hold an arm out to Jungkook, who crosses the room and slides his hand into yours. "We want to help. We want to save the Crestmont."

Taehyung's eyes bulge. His voice drops to a whisper. "Really?"

"You were right. The Crestmont was mom's place."

You think about how it felt to be out there on the stage, in front of a crowd cheering your name. The excitement, the exhilaration. Your first stage.

The Crestmont is your mom's first stage. It's where she felt those same emotions for the first time. You can't let it be demolished. Not for anything.

"She deserves a legacy. We can't let them tear it down. I don't know how yet, but we'll save it."

"Thank you." A tear streaks his cheek, and his arms pull you and Jungkook into a tight bear hug.

"Thank you. For showing me what really matters, Tae." You whisper. "Let's do this together, okay?"

"For mom."

Taehyung holds out his pinky finger, and you link yours with his.

"For mom."

Where things go wrong.

Six months later.

Every second that passes is marked by a deafening tick from the kitchen clock.

Jungkook was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago. You're sat alone at the dinner table, a carefully presented meal for two spread across your mom's old polka dot table cloth. You even lit candles.

With a sigh you drop your chin into your hand, absentmindedly pushing your spaghetti around the dish while your eyes remain trained to the front door that will open any moment.

To be honest, it's been months since you and Jungkook shared a meal together. He spends most of his nights in his office, hunched over his laptop staring at the blinking cursor on some script he'll never finish. And ever since Jungkook's big script got rejected and he fell into a slump of no work, he had to get a job at a local convenience store all day for some spare cash to get you through the month.

You know he hates it. He hates the rude customers and how he can never shower the smell of grease out of his hair.

You know the bickering that turned into arguing that turned into fighting was just a result of his restless aggravation at being shot down too many times. Of watching his dream slip right through his fingers.

But you haven't exactly been as understanding as you should have been. You're overworked too, with the play, and The Crestmont, and you hate how easy it was to accept sleeping apart and missing dinner dates.

So you texted him to tell him you were making dinner tonight. A cease fire of sorts, or maybe just a feeble attempt at glueing back together the cracks that have appeared between you recently with pasta sauce and meatballs.

But he's late. Again.

And it makes you wonder whether there was any point in trying.

"Y/N?"

A gravelly voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Keys jangle onto the counter, shoes are slipped from feet and thrown into the storage cupboard with the creaky door.

"I'm in here." Your voice sounds meek, but you straighten and muster up a smile. To show at least one of you is making an effort.

Jungkook appears in the doorway, clad in his ugly traffic cone orange uniform. His shoulders are slumped, bangs limply stuck to his forehead. He looks tired, exhausted.

"What's all this?" He nods disinterestedly towards your untouched homemade buffet before heading to the sink to fix himself a glass of water.

"Dinner." You cough. He stiffens. "Remember?"

"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flash with something close to guilt momentarily, but then he smoothes it out. "Yeah. Dinner."

"It's okay, you're not too late. We can just heat this up in the microwave—"

"I already ate, Y/N." The glass in his hand slams onto the counter a little too loudly. "At the store."

You can't hide the way your face drops.

"Please." You whisper. "For me?"

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, unblinking, before he exhales shakily and pulls out the seat opposite you.

"What's on the menu?" He asks, hands already grabbing for the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table without so much as a glance at the food you worked so hard to prepare.

"Pasta."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence settles. Jungkook nibbles at a meatball, and you suddenly feel too sick to the stomach to keep anything down.

You jump when Jungkook's fork clatters to the table. He wipes pasta sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin and you're sure you can see a slight tremor in his grasp.

"There's something I need to tell you."

His words ring out into the deafening silence that shrouds the apartment. You train your eyes to the candle in the middle of the table that flickers back and forth and carefully place down your own cutlery.

"Should I be worried?"

"No...I mean, I don't know. Maybe." Jungkook waves his hands around and when his eyes meet yours they're distant. Like the table that separates you spans oceans. "Just promise not to freak out."

"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."

Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"

"I gave them a different script."

Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.

"Huh?"

"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."

Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.

"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"

The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.

"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"

"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."

"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"

"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."

"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.

"Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."

He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."

"What?"

The room starts to spin.

"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."

"This?" You whisper.

"Us."

"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"

He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"

Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.

"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."

"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."

"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.

"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."

"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.

"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."

The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.

It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.

Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.

Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.

"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."

With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.

DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.

All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.

When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.

"Y/N?"

The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.

"Over here."

Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.

"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.

"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.

"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.

"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."

Taehyung chokes. "What?!"

"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."

He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."

A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.

"I miss mom." You blurt.

It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.

"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."

"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"

"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."

"That's not true."

"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"

"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"

"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."

Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"

"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."

Accepting.

"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."

"So what did you do?"

"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."

And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.

You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”

"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."

You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"

"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"

"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."

You scramble to your knees. "What?"

"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."

And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"

"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."

"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.

"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.

"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.

Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.

It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.

You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.

"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."

You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?

"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."

There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."

He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.

You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"

"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."

"Why?" Your voice is small.

"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."

The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.

Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.

"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."

"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.

"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"

Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."

"But--"

"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."

You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.

"I love you too."

"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"

"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"

"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."

Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.

"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."

Your jaw drops. "A what now?"

"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."

"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

Epilogue.

"Just keep your eyes shut!"

"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.

"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."

A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.

By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.

"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.

Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.

"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."

You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.

The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.

"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.

Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"

Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.

Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.

The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."

You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.

"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."

"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.

It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.

"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.

"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.

Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."

Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.

The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.

I love you.

Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.

The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.

"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.

"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."

"What can I say? You're my muse."

"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."

It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."

"Oh?"

He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."

"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?

Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.

"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."

He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.

"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.

You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.

"I love you too, Kook."

Where there are new beginnings

Ocean City is the same as it always was.

You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.

The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.

And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.

But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.

Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.

But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.

And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.

You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon​ !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol! 

Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland​ because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~

Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.

[mcwriting]

A Science Project for the Ages

Big thanks to this anon for this request! Sorry it's taking me longer to fulfill my requests from when I was in quarantine but I'm trying to get those done soon!

This is a slight continuation of lab partners but can definitely be read alone :)

Ship: SoftNerd!Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1883

Warnings: one blink-and-you'll-miss it bad word

⚛︎

There was a loud buzz as your phone vibrated against the wood table in the science library.

You quickly picked it up, trying not to disturb the few other students around as you looked down at the screen.

Tom.

Though you were together now, he very rarely called at this time. He knew you always studied here before dinner time and respected that.

You grabbed your notebook and bag and shuffled into the hall to answer.

"Tom? Is everything okay?"

"Hey, um. So sorry to bother you, but you've finished your science expo project, right?"

You furrowed your brows as you slid down the wall to sit and stuff your notebook back in your bag. You knew this conversation was going in a weird direction already. You could hear a faint beeping in the background.

"Uh, yeah..?"

"Right, and what was that project over again?"

"I did an analysis on light absorption of different common solutions and then compared them to the color they turned when I lit them on fire. I thought we already talked about this the other day..?"

"Yes, yeah, sorry. So one more question before I tell you what's up. Do you happen to know how to bake?" Tom asked quietly.

Suddenly you remembered what all his project was on.

He was doing a food chemistry project, explaining certain phenomenons that happen when you bake. He had hoped giving people baked goods would make them like his project more.

"I- Tom I told you I would help you but you said it would be fine," you said flatly."

"Well..... Now it's not fine, and Alex isn't here to help me. He went to his girlfriend's."

Tom's roommate. He was usually pretty patient with Tom's clumsiness, but sometimes he just had to get out and enjoy a day off, too. Tom understood, but now the burden fell on you.

"Fine, I'll be there in a little bit. Text me if you need me to bring anything."

⚛︎

You walked in to the smell of burnt. It was overwhelming and you choked as you rushed to the window to air out the apartment.

"Hey, sorry about the smell," Tom said nonchalantly from the kitchen.

You turned to see the situation at hand, which was definitely... a situation.

It was like something out of a movie. Messy bowls and utensils littered the sink. There was cake batter splattered across the counters. Finally, the culprit still sat in a muffin tin on the bar: a dozen very black cupcakes.

You sighed.

"Forgot to set the timer?"

"Yep."

"And let me guess. This was your first experience with baking?"

"That's exactly right."

"Of course," you muttered, but then clapped your hands together enthusiastically. "Well, then. Let's try and fix this, shall we?"

You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to Tom's cheek, then brushed past him to grab the tray.

"First on the agenda, we are going to take off the papers and chuck these off the balcony to let out some frustrations, alright?"

You were lucky in that Tom's apartment was on the top floor, and his balcony faced a wooded area. The only thing he could hit was a tree and the food would eventually biodegrade into the soil.

You both tossed them, competing to see who could throw the farthest. It let Tom blow off some steam, and also gave more time to ventilate the place before you went back in.

After the last cupcake (if you could call it that) was tossed, you got started on cleaning everything up. He had used a lot of bowls for one boxed cake mix, but you didn't ask.

It took a while to make sure things were sufficiently clean, but finally everything was ready to make a new batch.

"Oh one other thing before we start. Have you ever made a meringue?" Tom asked as he preheated the oven, which you carefully supervised to make sure it was right.

"I mean, I've made some before. Why?"

"Well part of my project was talking about how egg proteins bind. They sound pretty easy. Just eggs and sugar, right?"

Your hand covered your eyes in disappointed surprise.

"What? No. Tom, meringues are like, notoriously one of the hardest things to get right. They land just before macarons, and meringue is one of the main parts of a macaron!"

"What are you talking about? How can something with two ingredients be that hard to make?" he tried to argue, but you weren't about to let him trick you into making something so difficult.

"Did none of your research explain how moisture, temperature changes, utensils used, and method of cooking affect the outcome."

"...Uh... no."

"Were you planning on using the Swiss, Italian, or French technique?"

".....I didn't know there was more than one."

"Well then you might go do a quick search to add to your presentation while I cover the cupcakes."

While he did that, you made up the batter and got the cupcakes in the oven (set at the right temperature for the right time), then got started making some frosting.

"Hey, y/n. Did you know you aren't supposed to make meringues in a plastic bowl?"

"Yep. Plastic can retain lipids which prevent proper binding. Same reason you can't whip the yolk."

"That's what this says! How did you know that?"

You shrugged.

"I like to bake. By the way, you better credit me as your pastry chef on the presentation."

"Will do."

He made some edits on the page and found a recipe claiming to be the easiest method, so you caved and agreed to help him make them when the cupcakes were done.

As you measured sugar and got the whisk attachment ready, you looked over and admired Tom as he meticulously separated the eggs.

You couldn't help but fall head over heels for him all over again seeing how he did each step carefully, all his focus on each little egg.

Sure, he was a little clumsy sometimes, but he was precious and cared about whatever he did.

It took what seemed like hours to get the egg whites whipped properly (and lots of arguing with Tom about what "stiff peaks" meant), but finally you had them in a piping bag and on a pan to bake.

You couldn't help but wait by the oven in anxious anticipation for the meringues to come out, even though they'd be in there for a while.

Tom sat right next to you on the (surprisingly) clean kitchen floor as you stared at the oven.

"Babe?" he asked softly, leaning into you.

You hummed a response, taking the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you for coming and helping me. I know you value your library time."

You smiled and sat back up, looking Tom in the eyes.

"You know, I wasn't really studying anyways. I was watching youtube videos with my headphones in because I didn't want to go home yet."

Tom had a mischievous grin and furrowed brow.

"So you just go there as an excuse to get away from me?!"

You laughed and knocked into him slightly.

"No! I just got done with my homework and wanted to hang around campus for a while... and I had a feeling you'd call eventually."

Tom gasped.

"You didn't trust me!?"

"Now that I can answer truthfully..." you started, causing him to pout. "I'm not saying I didn't trust you at all, it's just that I had never once heard of you baking and figured I would prepare myself accordingly."

"Does this mean that Alex knew too?"

"I can't speak on his behalf, but I'm glad it was just us anyways. I like getting to spend time with you like this." You paused to peck him on the lips. "Want me to read over your project? I know those spelling errors can slip by sometimes."

Tom grinned, wordlessly getting up and offering you a hand.

⚛︎

The expo was in full swing and you nervously stood on the other side of the room as your project to watch people walk by and observe your findings.

You had already given your presentation to the judging panel and now the expo was open to the public, so you tried to avoid stressing too much as you talked with some friends.

Suddenly a pair of warm arms came around your stomach and Tom's scent enveloped you.

"Hey baby, how ya feelin'?" he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder as your thumbs rubbed over his hands instinctively.

"You know me. A little nervous." You flipped in his arms to face him. "And what about you? The judges like our sweet treats?"

"They sure seemed too. Dr. Grand liked the meringues so much she asked for another."

You smiled.

"Well either way, I'm proud of us both."

"Thanks again for helping, I couldn't have done this without you. I made sure to emphasize how difficult meringue making is during my presentation thanks to you."

Finally your friends had enough of the cutesy bullshit and convinced you and Tom to rejoin the conversation, both of you with arms around each other as you conversed.

Time passed and eventually they gave prizes to the best projects of the expo. You knew you wouldn't win anything, there were some far better projects out there that included heavy research.

"And in first place, 'Science around us: the chemistry of baking' by Mr. Tom Holland! Congratulations! If all of our winners could come pick up their ribbons and get a photo for the newsletter, that would be great."

Tom stayed casually next to you, so you had to shake him and get his attention.

"Did you hear that Tom? You won!"

Tom blinked a few times, then gasped.

"I won!? I mean, we won!!?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed him forward.

"Go on, get your blue ribbon, baker boy."

He excitedly rushed up to the table where his prize awaited (tripping a few times, but you ignored that) and bounced on the balls of his feet as someone pinned the ribbon to his shirt.

You could see the sheer delight on his face as the winners took a group photo, and he practically skipped back to meet you.

You and your friends gave him congratulations as he happily looked down at the blue piece pinned to him.

He then unpinned it and tried to hand it to you.

"Now, don't congratulate me, y/n gets all the credit for making everything."

"No, no. It was your idea and you did the research. You deserve that more than anyone else. And plus, you were right. Baked goods did give you an edge over the competition."

"Well I say it was a science project for the ages!" he exclaimed, holding up the ribbon. You and your friends cheered to that.

"How 'bout we go celebrate your win over lunch, hm? The cupcake I had isn't holding me over and I'm starving."

"Sounds perfect, darling. Lead the way."

You happily headed off towards the nearest place on campus, completely oblivious to the fact that Tom had pinned his blue ribbon to your backpack.

He quickly made up time and slipped a hand into yours.

If nothing else, he was the boyfriend of the ages.

⚛︎

A/N: thanks to the anon who sent the request for this! I really enjoyed writing it! I think I could've improved some things but overall I'm pretty satisfied with it, and I hope you are too!

Permanent Tag List

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

@jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @justafangirlduh, @hollandswife

[yostresswritinggirl]

hello, i love your writin'!! seriously, it's so cool to read and im just ajdhsish and this is the first thing- second thing, would you be comfortable with writin' albedo x gn reader (headcanons are cool yknow!) who dislikes goin' outside alone? like, they worry that somethin' bad will happen to them or are a bit scared of doin' things that might go wrong around people, so they prefer goin' outside with someone? (they also want to get rid of their fears but have no ideas how) i will understand if you don't want to so dw!! 👉👈

First thing, thank you so much for requesting! This took a while, I'm so sorryy! This was supposed to come out yesterday but I got sick and barely had the brainpower to even stand :(( feels better now tho so yey? And yess ahhh thank you for your kind words, you guys have been wonderful too, give yourself some credit too!

This is the last Albedo request in the inbox and woohoo, we ended this streak in one of the hard prompts I've come by so far ahaha

I'm not sure if I interpreted anon right but this shall be a fic as originally requested? I'm apologizing in advance because I don't think I've captured this scenario well enough hehe,,, but I hope you still enjoy this!

Keep Me Intertwined

Albedo with a gn!reader that's scared of going out alone (Mild Social Phobia?)

Albedo is a genuis, everybody knows that, even beyond the walls of Mondstadt. Praised and sought out by scholars to ask for his wisdom and a majority of the time they receive their desired enlightenment.

Indeed, the Kreideprinz is a genuis even if he says otherwise, but he's a genuis in the art of Kemia. And only that. Truth be told there are a lot of things he lacks when it comes to knowledge, as his focus is only in the science he wants to explore. Beyond that, he comes close to a child's understanding of the world.

When he bumped into you when he was strolling through the stalls during a market fair of travelling merchants, he'd thought it would be something he can shrug off easily, but as he moves his head to look at the perpetrator he'd hear a squeak of a "sorry" and a running figure. What?

Albedo silently pats himself down as he continues to watch as the silhouette disappears farther, with a calculating gaze to memorize all their features for... future references.

After he made sure it wasn't a thief that bumped to him to pickpocket, he immediately moves on without another thought.

"Ah, you're the one from the marketplace yesterday." In all honesty, your second meeting was quicker to come than he expected, and at the most curious location of all places. In the Knights of Favonius HQ. How had he not heard or seen of you before?

Your shoulders tense at the sound before you even closed the door of which you came from. This was a room he's never seen anyone use, he realized. Was this where you've been residing all this time? What an oversight on his part but it seems that you two share the common practice of barely leaving your quarters.

When you turned around, behind those surprised eyes lies a gentleness of relief he has not seen a mixture of in the ones he'd observed before. "O-Oh, Chief Alchemist! I'm really sorry about that, I was- I'm really sorry!" He hums in contemplation before shaking his head, assuring you it was a matter that caused no harm.

There was more to it, but his thoughts are distracted with his current task at hand, and with a short goodbye he made his way out down the hall where the stairs resides.

His heavy boots clap on the carpeted floor...

Paired with shuffling light ones to try and match his stride.

Huh? "Are you perhaps going outside?" He confirms with a soft yes as he continues his walk. What are you implying? "Is it okay if I join your company? I uhm also need to get some stuff from outside." He just nods, not one for small talk or questioning. It's nothing much to think about really—

Your loose and subtle grip around the chains hanging by his coat seem to ground him from his musings as you two traverse through Mondstadt in a normal gait. He tries not to think about it too much, but the way you look around with unease when you near other people or your desperate strides to stay a respectable distance to him were things he observed during the walk. Albedo was no man of science focusing on human personality and it bothers him.

It was like a game of cat and mouse between you two running errands, he'll detour to the side and you'll follow him, and if you need to drop by to a building then he'll have to follow you.

And he doesn't know why. Is it because of his mannerism towards taking care of Klee? Or his feeling of responsibility for bringing you along?

During this whole ordeal the Chief Alchemist has brought himself a bright idea (it is not) and went into his scientific mode. He watches you talk to one of the citizens about a commission you had finished yesterday and after confirming your undivided attention, he quietly slips away from the area to visit the Alchemy stall where Timaeus would surely be working on.

It took about an hour before he was allowed to use the table, because Timaeus took so long working on his forgery. Goodness that man needs to work on his studies more.

Ah, speaking of— Albedo realized he'd just up and left you for an hour. Without a second thought he retraced his steps to where he had last seen you. Surely you would have gone off to do your own thing, probably finished up your errands by now and had gone back to the Knights headquarters.

An unmoving force made him tumble forward as his coat seemed to have been caught. If you were there, it would be a sight to see, a rare moment of the Kreideprinz so uncomposed and shocked as he catches himself with a sputter. What the hell? His head snaps to look over his shoulder at such incredible speed, you'd thought it really would have snapped—

The clutch on his chain accessory tightens. With your head down low he couldn't see what expression you were, but your tense shoulders shake with a tremor similar to that of an on-going earthquake. His guilt was more obvious as your knuckles turn white from the deadly grip.

"Albedo-!" You exclaimed in what seems to be a cross between a whine and a whimper. "You disappeared, I couldn't- I couldn't leave..."

He hides a sigh as you refuse to look up to show your face. And in a comforting manner he has 'mastered' with a certain someone, he gently pries off your tight grip (with some urging pats to get you to loosen) before interlocking your fingers with his gloved ones. And he smiles as genuinely as he can, "I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Are you done here? It's almost night, we should get moving."

Your nod of agreement was a breath of fresh air to him.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Days after that were pretty much as uneventful as uneventful it could be for Albedo's lifestyle.

Holed up in his laboratory for days without rest like the madman he is. Master's alembic and grounds of scarlet quartz able to keep his mind occupied to not wonder. Hyperfocused, no one has seen him out, only Sucrose dropping by with an 'assistant pass' despite the experiment on-going sign hanging by his doorknob.

When he finally stepped out to the hallway, three days already passed. The door behind him clicks as it locks, a sound that echoed with the door four rooms apart to his.

Kaeya looks up from your doorknob when he noticed the approaching silhouette. "Oh, Chief Alchemist? Finally came out of your cave." He quipped as he leans his shoulder against your room's door, visible eyebrow raising slightly after noticing the fleeting gaze Albedo passed at the door.

"Cavalry Captain, good evening. What were you doing there?" Straight to the point.

The taller man's eyebrow rose higher before he composed his amusement. "I didn't expect you to be into rumors, Albedo." The Alchemist's brows furrows in response. "No harm done, worry not. I just accompanied them on their trip outside before retreating for the night."

Humming to himself, Albedo's eyes wonder back to your doorknob before it was protectively shielded by the man's... white fur cloak?

"I also heard you left them alone when you two were out. I didn't expect you to be such a cruel man, amping up their fear after the progress they've made." Fear? Progress? More questions swirled within the genius' mind the more he talked with this.

Kaeya had noticed his faraway look and pieced together the context. Finally, he offered to explain the background of the issue and Albedo was ecstatic to listen in, a first with the blunette.

"Do you understand it now?"

"Mhm."

"Then I'll leave them to your care, I'm sure your genius mind can come up with something."

"Huh?"

And thus you find yourself standing at the bottom steps of the Ordo Favonius HQ the next morning, hand in hand with the Chief Alchemist you've last seen four days ago. Doesn't he have better things to do? No, he reasoned the solution he worked on will take two days to formulate the desired sediment, and so he has that timeframe free for the taking.

You would have been confused and wary he'd abandon you again—

Were you not forced to listen to the two dummies talk about YOU right outside your ROOM.

"You uhm, you don't have to hold my hand during this whole trip, Master Albedo."

"Albedo." He corrected. "And this is necessary, much more convenient and predictable than pulling on my chains really." A touch of a blush framed your cheeks with embarrassment.

"I have nothing in my itinerary today, so feel free to tug me along. It is, after all, the most I can do for what happened."

Despite the rough texture from the long use, the leathered hand in yours brought about more comfort than you would have thought.

Bonus:

The solar isotoma sparkled in pure golden beauty in front of you, but it didn't prevent the anxiety bubbling inside as you watch Albedo hop over the ledge with the help of his geo construct. "What- what are you doing?"

"Experiment. I'll be up in the roof looking over you so you'll know I'm still here, if it makes a difference if your company is far from arms length or not." He replied as he casually hopped over to the roof of a housing unit.

"Albedooo!"

I didn't get to capture all the aspects of the request that I wanted to focus on ahhhhh, I got so conscious of the length I had to stop it! Still ack I hope I captured his personality and context well— and I'm sorry if I amped up the fear more than you gave, I'm not really sure how bad it was supposed to be skskskks

But hey, this being the last Albedo req in my inbox, I am now free from this man *happy sigh* //:Albedo smut leading the leaderboard for the followers event looms over from behind:// *sweats*

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

"Home of the Lost: Chapter 28"

Here's the latest chapter! I've got a couple more written up, and I really hope you have finished this series by the end of the year - the total amount of chapters is going to be somewhere between 35 and 40. Anyways - enjoy and let me know what you think!💜

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

The sun hadn't even fully begun to set when Star woke up. The last rays of the now deadly sunlight filled the cave, and honestly, it was the only reason that she was still there. After her argument with David the day before, she couldn't help but feel as if she was a burden of sorts. Not only that, she realised as she waited, she hated the way David had treated her. She was not like him, something that all the other boys had accepted, and she was done with him being pissed about it. She had been doing okay as a vampire. She was getting the hang of it, and if he didn't like how she practiced it, he could fuck off. She was getting around the killing, she had done a remarkable job at cleaning up the messes - and she'd be damned if she let another man tell her what she can and can't do again. She made that mistake with Greg, and she would not ever allow herself to be treated like that again.

Star walked out, heading towards the boardwalk, not caring to let any of the other vampires know. She needed to be alone right now, to live in the rare peace she managed to find whenever she roamed the boardwalk on her own. Air. Blood. Music. That's what she needed. A bit of fun.

"You got the last page?" Allan looked at his brother, who seemed to be almost done. "I found someone who could get at least fifty copies printed and ready for us by tomorrow if we have it tonight."

"Almost, just the last panels alright?"

The two of them had been working at it for about a week now, ever since Edgar realised there might actually be vampires in Santa Carla. Allan had written the texts, making sure every single piece of information necessary for ones survival was in there, while Edgar had been busy making the illustrations. It took him another twenty minutes, and then he was done.

"You close up the store, I'll bring it to the printer-"

"Yeah. No. What if a vampire sees you? We don't go outside on our own at night, Ed."

"Fine."

Both boys left the store for the night, not realising they had made another boy around their age slightly disappointed. "Great," the boy mumbled as he kicked a pebble forward, "not only did we have to move here, but the only cool thing about this town is closed."

Max was up early that evening, enjoying the final pieces of light with a strong cup of coffee. He had been thinking, and he realised that the amount of changes his boys had to endure in the past couple of weeks - Star, Paul going missing, Eleanor and Paul returning - may have been a bit to much. He could not blame either of the girls for having to find their place in the group. He could not blame Marko for being determined to get his mate and siree back. He had appreciated how little he had to interfere with Star, mainly because Dwayne decided to guide her into the undead live. The way David had been starting fights and arguments left and right just didn't sit well with him. He wasn't sure yet how to handle it, and he wouldn't be for a while. He was about to leave for work, glad that his age and the uv-blocking windows in his car gave him the opportunity to do so, ready to leave a note for Eleanor, when he heard a scream.

He ran down the stairs, into the basement, to hear another scream. It was coming from the stairs leading to the garden entrance. Curled up, hiding away in the shadow, was Eleanor. One of the doors was open, and a stream of light came in. Max acted quickly, closing the door, before turning to Eleanor. "Are you alright? What happened?"

She didn't respond. She just sat there frozen. She didn't need to respond - Max could already smell the burnt skin on her arm. Carefully, he picked it up, examining it, before feeding her some of his blood.

"Eleanor, what happened?"

She shook her head quietly, sighing deeply. "I forgot..."

"You- you forgot the sun burns us?"

She nodded, curling up in herself. Max looked at her, realising there was one single thing he needed to know.

"What scared you?"

"The underpainting."

Max was quiet for a moment, not quite getting what she meant. But he saw her fear, he saw the red mark where the burn had been, and - he took a second to really look at her - her brown hair had turned an ashen grey overnight. She was terrified. Max sighed, picking her up and carrying her to her coffin. "I'll call Marko and Paul, alright?"

Eleanor nodded, quietly sinking down into her bed. She had hoped to be freed from the horror from the painting. But now, she began to wonder. Was she really free?

It's wonderful how music could make you forget, Star thought as she moved her body along to the rhythm. Little by little, the music overtook her. No more thoughts of home, vampirism, fights. Just the music. The notes, the melody, everything coming together in the moves she unconsciously made. For the first time since she changed, she felt free, free to do what she wanted. She opened her eyes, looking around and smiling as she met the eyes of a boy. He looked nice, kind, maybe a little bit tough - different from the boys, that's for sure. She smiled at him, causing the boy to blush.

"Do you want to grab a drink?" Star asked as she met up with the boy before introducing herself. The boy, a little awkward but definitely confident enough about his looks, grinned. "Sure. I'm Michael."

"Michael?" She tasted the name on her lips. "I like Michael. Michaels great."

"Star's pretty great to, you know?"

"Yeah?"

Star smiled, taking Michaels hand as they walked towards the bar. Michael. Michael was hers.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

It’s Just a Movie: Part 10 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 1849

You and the boys had been discussing their plan for the past two weeks, having kept track on your notes app in your phone. The first few days had just been with what their ending 'goal' was, which turned out to be harder than you thought for them to agree. Well, for you and them to agree. When you proposed their desired ending, Dwayne had quickly said,

"Kill Sam and the Frogs." And Marko was quick to second him. It seemed that neither of them were quick to forget their killers, even if you were sure the only reason Dwayne wanted the Frogs dead was because they went after Laddie. You, however, were quick to argue,

"They're kids, guys." And, before they could appall you with any loose morals, you added, "Plus, Max is gonna tell you to turn Sam, remember?" But neither of them seemed too bothered by only being able to kill the Frogs. So, you reminded them, "They haven't done anything yet. They might not even suspect vampires exist yet." You pointed out, and the boys frowned. After a few days, you got them to agree to only kill them if they attempted to kill them first. Quickly, you tried to steer them in a different direction.

It was decided fairly quickly that the boys wouldn't be able to disobey Max once he ordered them to turn the boys, and it would be near impossible to get to them beforehand. So, you suggested,

"Well, why don't we just try to make Max's plan work? I mean, it wouldn't be too bad having Lucy for a mom, right?" You offered, but the boys exchanged a glance as they mulled it over. Lucy was sweet, kind to her boys, and probably wouldn't force them to change. And, with how much freedom she gave Michael and Sam, they could imagine that their lives wouldn't be all that affected. You tried to defend her case, but, as David eloquently put, 

"That's exactly why she shouldn't end up with Max." He said, and you frowned. 

“He can’t be that bad...right?” But even you didn’t really know. You remembered the ending, where he didn’t even bat an eye, let alone shed a tear, at the death of one of his ‘sons’. Without missing a beat, Paul said, 

“He’s a dick.” You expected a slap of the head from Dwayne or a look from David. When neither came, you let out an uneasy breath. So, it seemed that Max's 'Blood-sucking Brady Bunch' was out of the question. When you pushed the topic of Max, it was decided that perhaps his ending shouldn't be all that changed. By the end of the first couple of days, it was decided that Max would die, and that David would take his place as the head vampire. You had to admit that it seemed to make more sense, with how detached the boys already were from their sire. And because it had technically been Maxs fault for their deaths in the first place. But, making sure Max bit it and they didn't was definitely going to make things more difficult. Especially when you factored in Star and Laddie. 

“Wait, why are we turning Star again?” Marko asked. It was a couple days later and the five of you were eating pizza in the cave, having already visited the boardwalk. You, Marko, and Paul sat on the floor while Dwayne laid sprawled out on the couch and David sat in his chair. You were revisiting your ideas for how they were going to change the future, and you were doing a rebriefing of what the five of you had agreed on. Really, with having been there for two weeks, it was the only thing to keep your mind off of the improbability of you ever going home.

“She’s the one that’s gonna lure Michael in.” Paul reminded him, reaching over to snag one of your fries. You batted his hand away, and he gave you a grin as he popped it into his mouth. Marko scoffed, shaking his head.

“And why do we need to lure him in again? I mean, we already saw how that goes.” He grumbled, and you tried to choose your words carefully. He was always a little tense during these discussions, as his death would be the first you’d need to avoid.

“If we stray too far from the movie, then we have no idea how the events will turn out. And no idea how to prevent any near-death experiences.” You reminded. It was the exact reason that you had crossed out the potential of keeping the Emersons away completely. “We’re only gonna change some minor things, so Michael still needs to be turned into a half for everything to work.” You said calmly, and he let out a long sigh. He pushed the pizza box away from him, and your fries away from you before he laid your head in your lap. Over the past week, the boys had gotten comfortable with you. Almost a little too comfortable. While you hadn’t done anything with any of them yet, platonic affection didn’t seem to bother any of them. Even if Paul constantly offered otherwise. You already knew what he expected, and you gently began twirling his curls and scratching his scalp.

“But he’s such a poser.” Marko said, and you couldn’t help your smile at the use of slang. Your mind instantly flashed to when he bought the leather jacket, and then the earring. He seemed to try so hard to fit in, or perhaps impress, that you hadn’t even considered that that might describe him perfectly. You watched as his face relaxed, his eyes fluttering closed as you used your nails to scratch one of his sweet spots.

“Yeah, but he’ll be human again when Grandpa kills Max, and then you won’t have to worry about him anymore.” You said, and you didn’t notice the small smile on David’s face as he watched you calm the blonde vampire. Marko let out another sigh, before wriggling his way further into your lap. He let out a small grunt, apparently satisfied enough to stop his arguing. For the meantime. After a moment, you added, “Plus, you won’t have to watch Laddie all the time with Star.” You said, giving Dwayne a look. He had been reading a book, and he perked up at the mention of the little boys name. When he looked over and saw that you were already looking at him, he was quick to look back down at the piece of literature in his hands. Paul let out a small snicker, and you smiled.

You knew that, while he would never admit it, Dwayne was eager to meet the little boy that had become so close to him during the movie. It was like he was awaiting the birth of his younger brother, even if the little boy was already walking around somewhere. Though, you and David had silently agreed not to discuss the fate of the young boy. While the five of you could plan your ideal ending all you wanted, the most important thing was being able to roll with the punches and to be realistic. And, well, Laddie had stuck to Star more than he had stuck to the brunette haired boy. 

With keeping most of the story-line and only a fraction of the ending the same, there was only one part of your plan left undecided. 

“So, how are you gonna stop Sam from coming down here with the Frogs?” You asked. There was, of course, the expected chorus of,

“Kill the frogs.” From Dwayne and Marko. It was a frequently revisited issue, and the five of you had yet to agree. You had to make sure you spent their nights with them after Paul, surprisingly, had suggested finding their comic book store earlier that week. But, before you could argue your usual point over again, David said,

“We don’t have to kill them. We don’t even have to stop Sam from meeting them.” And you were quick to arch a brow. Paul let out an audible,

“Huh?” And Marko and Dwayne both sat up to look at their leader. It was an undiscussed idea, but, from the way David said it, you guessed that he’d been sitting on it for a few days now. It seemed that whatever ideas he had, he was finally willing to share them. He took a drag of his cigarette, before he began to elaborate. 

“You said it yourself, y/n. We can’t risk going too far from the movie. We just have to make sure that Sam and the Frogs think that Max is the head vampire, and a few other things.” He added the last part vaguely, and you stared at him. With the way the edges of his lips curled, you were positive he was leaving you in suspense on purpose. You sighed, giving him a look. Finally, you asked,

“Like what?” And you watched the way his smile grew. He seemed to love whenever you gave in to his egging, and he supplied you with,

“Like thinking that by killing him it’ll turn all his children back to being human. Including us.” He said, and you felt your jaw fall for a moment before you quickly recovered. You didn’t want to inflate his ego, even if he already looked immensely satisfied with your reaction. Paul let out a low whistle before he said,

“Shit. That’s perfect. Michael will totally-”

“He’ll treat us like Star and Laddie. Same with Sam.” Marko finished for him, even if Paul went on rambling. He rambled about how they could blame the murders on vampire instinct, lack of human memory, or play into the thirst for sympathy. Or how they could make it almost hero-like by saying they only went after assholes. Dwayne, his deep voice cutting through Pauls chatter, said, 

“And Grandpa won’t go after us. Not if we could be saved.” And you stared at all of them. It was a good plan. A great one. But, you could only think of one fatal flaw in it, and it was staring you in the face. 

“Do you really expect them to believe you though?” You asked David. No matter how charming they could be, you didn’t expect them to really be that stupid. And it wasn’t something that they could just naturally bring up to Star and Michael without it raising some sort of suspicion from the pair. Especially when the Frogs were so hell-bent on killing all vampires, even if said vampire was only a half and a child. Davids smile turned into a smirk, and he gave you a small shake of his head as he said,

“Oh, not at all.” And confusion filled your face. You stared at the pale boy, his stubble dusting his cheeks and his hair practically glowing in the light. The smoke from the end of his cigarette curled and floated towards the ceiling as he said, “I expect them to believe you.”

[its-monster-mash]

Marko(Lost Boys) X Frog!Reader Imagines

Gender Neutral Reader

Content Warnings: gun, near death, brief mention of weed

• You spent most of your life on the East Coast, but you had a lot of family out west, including your beloved Grandfather. So when he passed, you dropped everything to attend the funeral

• You didn’t even recognize Edgar and Alan when you showed up at the trailer with your bag; last time you saw them Ed was just learning his first words(“Bullshit”, thanks Uncle Frog), and Al couldn’t even walk yet. Now here they are, a couple of Angsty sullen teenagers

• “You guys used to be so cute, what happened?” “We grew up.” “Oh please, what are you, 12?”

• You decided to stay for a while, help out with the comic book store while your Uncle deals with the legal stuff about your grandfather’s death. Dying sure was a pain in the ass, you guessed

• All things considered, you liked the work. You were a huge comic fan, and the store was slow enough that you had plenty of time to spend working on your own art. You hoped maybe you’d have your own comic some day, if only you could stick to one idea...

• In fact, you were so focused on your art that you forgot to lock up after closing time; so you were more than a little bit started when someone tossed a comic on your desk

• You look up to see a curly-headed blond man, with one of the most beautiful faces you had ever seen, and you can’t help but blush, he smiles at this. “New in town? I think I’d remember seeing you.”

• You notice his friends snicker as they mill around the store. So he IS flirting with you...this does nothing to help your blushing

• You try to collect yourself, ringing up his comic book as you explain your situation; about your grandfather, and how you’re staying with your uncle for a while...how you accidentally kept the shop open way late

• He seems infinitely more interested once he hears that you’re an artist, and absolutely wants to see your work. In fact, he doesn’t even wait for you to respond. “Is that your sketchbook?” Is all the warning you have before he’s snatching it off of your desk and flipping through it

• His jaw all but drops as he appreciates your work. “This is so sick!” Suddenly he’s pushing the sketchbook back to you. “Can you draw me?”

• Normally, you hate that question as much as any other artist, but you’d been dying to draw him since you saw his face, so you absolutely take him up on that

• It doesn’t take you very long to sketch him, and the second you’re finished he snatches it out of your hands, staring at it like he hasn’t seen himself in years

• While he’s busy being in awe, you snatch the sketchbook back from him, much to his surprise, and you hold up a finger to tell him to wait while you scratch your phone number onto the page. You hope he can read your terrible writing

• You tear the page out of the sketchbook, handing it to him. “Here, my phone number...you could call it sometime...if you want to.”

• Your heart flutters when he smiles, and you think you might die when his fingers brush yours when he takes the page. “I want to.”

• His spikyheaded friend nods at him, signaling it’s time for them to leave. “Name’s Marko, I’ll call you!”

• After a couple of late night phone calls, you never leave the shop open late again; Marko never failing to pick you up just after the sun goes down. You tease him about never seeing him in the daylight, like he’s one of those vampires from your cousins’ favorite comic

• “I’ve never seen you in the daylight either.” “Fair enough.”

• Unfortunately, your cousins overhear this little talk just outside of the shop; and one very early morning you notice them sneaking out of the house...you follow of course, you are the adult after all

• Following at a distance, you watch them climb into an old cave...very clearly labeled “Stay Out”. You wonder if maybe they go down there to get stoned with their friends or something...they have friends right? You consider leaving them be...but decide it would be so much funnier to bust them

• Except it isn’t funny at all. By the time you get down there, you hear your cousins’ screams. You frantically follow the sound, and much to your surprise you find Marko, his face distorted monsterously, ready to tear Edgar’s throat out

• You hardly even notice his friends, making a daring slide to pick up the stake Ed had dropped, and grabbing onto Marko. You aren’t strong enough to pry his grip off of your cousin, but the shock of seeing you here causes him to let go anyway. Ed scrambles to Al’s side, terrified under the gaze of the other vampires

• You press the point of the stake to Marko’s chest, and he looks at you with the most devastated expression. “Touch my cousins and he fucking dies.”

• Contempt and fear plays across the faces of the other vampires, guys you thought had become your friends since you started dating Marko; they didn’t know if you could kill him, but they didn’t want to take that chance. David nods for them to part so your cousins can start climbing out of the cave

• Marko...Marko looks at you with his golden eyes full of sorrow and anguish. Seeing him now for the monster he is, you know that the only reason you’re still alive is because he doesn’t want to kill you. You have a stake pressed to his chest, but you both know he could tear your throat out before you ever got the chance to use it

• “(Y/N), please, I-”

• As soon as your cousins reach the safety of daylight, you toss the stake violently to the floor, glaring into Marko’s eyes. You don’t even spare him a final word before you turn and walk away

• Every night, the phone rings; your Uncle doesn’t even bother to tell you anymore, just hanging up the second he hears Marko’s voice. If he knew the truth about what happened that night he’d be terrified, but as it stands he just thinks you had a nasty breakup; and you’re grown...so it’s not his business

• You hate yourself for it, but you miss him...you want to blame it on his Vampiric Charm, but you know in your heart that he never had to manipulate your feelings...they were real

• One night, you just can’t stand lying awake staring at the ceiling anymore. At damn near 3am, you leave quietly so not to awaken your family, and take off for your grandpa’s old shooting range

• Perhaps it was unwise to take yourself to a secluded area so far from any civilization in the dead of night, but you don’t care anymore. You load your grandfather’s old shotgun, the one he taught you to hunt with, and fire at the target

• Eventually, you hear a lone dirtbike pull up the long road behind you; you don’t even turn to look at him. “It’s four AM Marko, what are you doing here?” You fire at the target in the distance

• He walks up behind you, watching you lazily reload. “I could ask you the same thing.”

• “S’my grandpa’s range. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get in some target practice.” *Ting* “You know that’s no good against Vampires, right?” “It’s not for vampires.”

• He can’t help but be frustrated with you; how could you just come out into the open like this? In the middle of the night? Were you stupid or suicidal?

• You don’t need to read minds to know what he’s thinking. He opens his mouth to speak and you cut him off. “If you wanted me dead, I never would have left that cave.”

• “So why didn’t you do it? You know what I am now, so why didn’t you drive that stake through my heart?” “Even if I could have stabbed you faster than you could have killed me, your brothers would have torn me to pieces.”

• “My brothers aren’t here now.”

• You finally turn to look at him, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of him. Your heart tenses at the sight of the sun threatening to rise on the horizon. “If you don’t leave now, I won’t even have to kill you.”

• “No (Y/N).” You can see the tears in his eyes as he shifts into his monstrous form. “No, if you really want me dead, you’re gonna see it.”

• You’re confused at first, until you see the smoke beginning to rise as the first rays of morning light threaten him. “Marko, what are you doing?”

• He lets out an agonized hiss as his skin begins to singe. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

• Tears well in your eyes as you run to him, throwing your jacket over him in an attempt to shield him from the sun. “Knock it off!” You practically drag him into the old gun shack

• He collapses to the floor once you get him inside, too weak to stand. “If I’m gonna die, I want it to be you.” He sounds so raspy and exhausted

• You shake your head, tossing an old blanket over him. “Well too bad. You’re not dying on me today.”

[illogicalpunkwrites]

The Cave

Long time no see! Sorry it’s been a while. I’ve been in grad school and it’s pretty much sucked the life out of me. But I really missed writing so I figured I could write for my favorite character. Thank you so much for reading! Pairings: Leonard McCoy x Kirk!Reader

*Part two is here

Words: 4.8K

Warnings: injury, fluff, angst (?), swearing, badly written fight scene, Leonard and Reader being stubborn shits, Spock being a cocky shit

Tags: @bloodangelballerina @theweepingvulcan91​ If anyone else would like to be added let me know!

“Captain.” Spock greeted as he caught up to his friend. Jim clapped him on the shoulder. “I must commend you and Commander Kirk on your success in Nuvaruta. Not many would have been able to complete that mission.” 

“Eh, nothing we couldn’t handle. I’m just surprised she didn’t drop the artifact when she got hit!” Jim laughed. 

“Well, it was only a flesh wound. A woman of her position is surely used to it by now. No need to worry about her.” An ensign brushed by Jim, yelping out an apology. 

“She’s still my sister, Spock. Head of security or not, I always worry about her.”

“And captain or not, she will always worry about you.” 

“Well-” They both got quiet when they reached medbay, hearing yelling and seeing Nurse Chapel waiting outside the door, acting like nothing was happening and playing with her nails.

“Nurse Chapel, is everything alright?” Spock asked and she looked up at the science officer. 

“Oh, just the same thing every time Commander Kirk comes back from a mission.” Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“How many times are you gonna be in my damn medbay! I swear you get hurt more in a day than an ensign does in a whole year!” Leonard bit and you rolled your eyes. 

“How many times are you gonna complain every time you see me? I said thank you!” You replied. “You act like I’m ungrateful!”

“No you’re just stubborn as a bull!”

“Pot calling kettle black!” You laughed incredulously. “It’s in my job description to get hurt, it’s in yours to patch me up! But you can’t do that without henpecking at me every damn time!” 

Jim, Spock, and Christine all waited outside. By this point in the mission, they all knew that it was better to just wait it out than to break it up. 

“Henpecking?”

“Yes! I swear you like it when I come in because it gives you something to gripe about!”

“No because you coming in pushes me that much closer to an ulcer! Just get outta my medbay, I got work to do!”

“Gladly!” You walked out of medbay, looking to see the three waiting outside. “Hey.”

“Alright, c’mon. I need your report.” You and Jim walked away, leaving Christine and Spock near medbay. They walked in to see Leonard sitting at his desk with his forehead in his hand. 

“Doctor, are you alright?’ Christine asked and he sighed. 

“Yes, Nurse Chapel. I’m fine.” He replied. “Whaddya need, Spock?”

“I came here with no intention to talk to you, but now it seems I have. I would like to talk to you about Commander Kirk. Why is it that you two argue so much?” The vein in Leonard’s forehead seemed like it was about to pop as he turned to face the Vulcan. 

“Because she’s stubborn and reckless, that’s why!”

“As are you.” Christine looked at Spock with her eyebrows raised and stepped back a bit when Leonard stood up.

“I am not!”

“You are, which is why I am confused. Of course, you are not as reckless as Commander Kirk but you are as much if not more stubborn. You both share a drier sense of humor, both care a great deal about those you work with-”

“What’s your point, Spock?”

“I believe you become irritated when she’s hurt because you care for her. The more she gets hurt, the more irritable you become. There’s a remarkable amount of tension between you two.” Spock clasped his hands behind his back as Leonard walked up to him. “You are simply worried about her and are too stubborn to admit your feelings for her. Meaning it comes out in irritation and rage, making her angry and irritable.” 

“I don’t like her.”

“I think Commander Spock has a point...Doctor.” Christine interjected. “I think you’re also frustrated because you feel like you can’t like her. She is the Captain’s sister after all.”

“Good point, Nurse Chapel.” Spock commended. “It seems that she might be forbidden to our doctor.”

“A forbidden fruit, if you will.” Christine offered and Spock raised an eyebrow at her. Leonard rubbed his temples and she tried to hide her smile from him. 

“Spock, aren’t you needed on the bridge?”

“Oh no, not for some time.”

XXXXXX

Crew-

We are headed down to the planet of Thurilia. It is a barren planet that has not been inhabited in over 100 years but it carries another artifact integral to the Nimbus mission. Don’t mistake it’s barrenness for peace, there are hostile Romulans also looking for the artifact. We must also be wary of dust storms and flying debris from crash landed ships. For this mission I will require Commander Kirk, Commander Spock, and Doctor McCoy.  

“Got everything you need, lass?” You finished attaching your phaser, communicator, and collapsible kali. You missed your regular uniform, all of you required to wear a more suitable and impenetrable to the suffocating dust. It was too bulky for your liking but you knew it was more practical. 

“Ready, Scotty. Just make sure to remember to beam us up.” You clapped his shoulder and jogged over to the teleporter. Of course, the only spot was next to Leonard. “Dr. McCoy.”

“Commander.” You noticed Spock looking over at the two of you and you furrowed your brows at him. 

“Ready, Scotty.” Jim stated. You would never get used to the tingling of the teleporter. It would always be a strange sensation no matter how many times you used it. You all landed on the planet and you wondered if it made Spock feel the least bit homesick. It was a desert, but the sand was purple and the sky always dark. 

“Alright, everyone make sure your masks work. We’ll only have a little bit of warning before a storm kicks in. Lieutenant Uhura will be watching that for us. It gives off a a chemical signature but that’ll be hard to pinpoint with the dust and the crash sites. If you spot any romulans, call for backup and don’t fight them alone.”

“Should we go off in pairs, Captain?”

“I think we should. Might attract less attention and we might find it faster.”

“I shall go with you then, Captain.” You and Leonard’s heads snapped up from your tricorders. 

“Of course, Mr. Spock.” 

“Jim are you sure splitting up is the best idea?” You replied and Jim patted you on the shoulder. 

“Of course. I want you two to go northeast towards the strongest signature. Spock and I will go southwest towards the strongest signature.” The two walked away, leaving you and Leonard standing dumbfounded. 

“That green blooded hobgoblin.” Leonard muttered under his breath as you started following the signature. 

“You comin’ or not?” You called over your shoulder. He jogged up to catch up with you and pulled out his own tricorder. You were both silent, the only sounds coming from the wind and the robes you were wearing flapping. 

“How’s your shoulder?” He asked and you looked over at him quickly.

“It’s much better now, thank you.” He nodded. However, he wasn’t looking where he was stepping and felt his foot sinking down quickly. “Leonard!” The sand felt like it was grappling him, staining his robes a deep purple against the brown. You grabbed his arms and started to pull him out, your feet lacking traction and eventually you resorted to digging your knees in and pulling him along as he kicked. The grip loosened and he fell on top of you, pushing you into the sand. He quickly rolled off of you and panted like a wild dog. 

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, this is why I hate space.” He replied and you chuckled. 

“Welp, gives you one more thing to complain about.” You stood up, dusting off your robes and offered your hand to him. “Watch where you’re stepping.” 

“Yeah, yeah, got it.” He took it and you helped him up. “This place is a death trap.”

“I dunno, I kinda like it.” You responded. “If you look closely, the sand sparkles a bit.”

“I just got a close look, or have you already forgotten?” You rolled your eyes and kept following the signature. 

“You could’ve gotten a closer look had I not been here.” The two of you were silent save for the wind and the beeping of your tricorders. It was so peaceful yet destructive at the same time. No one could possibly live there, it had claimed the lives of so many and had become a resting ground for pieces of space travel. But the silence, the stars, it was beautiful in a way. 

“Commander, Doctor, I’m picking up a storm. Might want to head for cover.” Uhura informed over your communicators. 

“See any structures?” Leonard asked. You squinted down at your tricorder, the sandy wind already picking up. 

“There’s a cave near us, if we hurry we can get there before it gets too bad!” You called back. As you traveled, it became increasingly difficult to move or see. You had to trust your tricorder and stick close to Leonard.

Suddenly, something whizzed by in front of the both of you. 

Then another.

“Hurry!” You called back and grabbed his hand. From what you can guess, pieces of a nearby ship had begun to fly off. Each piece nearly missed you by mere feet. At least for a little bit.

“Ah!” Leonard cried and faltered a bit.

“We’re almost to the cave! I can see it!” You pushed him into the cave and looked to your left. A large piece of metal was bounding right towards you. You yelped and jumped in, right before the metal buried itself in the sand. You stared blankly as you realized it had blocked the entrance save for a small corner at the top. You turned around when you heard Leonard hiss in pain and saw blood soaking his robes. A piece of shrapnel had impaled itself into his side. “Leonard! Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine!” He snapped and you sighed, pulling back the robes and mask from your face. 

“You lay down, I’m going to get some light in here.” You pulled out your phaser and luckily found a pile of rocks. You shot at them, making them burn a bright red and give off some light. “Where’s your med kit?”

“What?”

“We gotta fix that up. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Where’s your medkit?” you unwrapped part of your robes and made a makeshift pillow for him as he pulled out his kit. 

“You sure about this?”

“You got a better idea?” He laid down and rested his head. You cut away at the fabric on the robes and he jumped when it pulled at the piece of shrapnel.

“Be careful!” 

“I’m trying to be, you mule!” You snapped back and he stared at you.

“Did you just call me a mule?”

“A mule that’s gonna tell me how to stitch it up.” He sighed and prepared himself.

“Alright, hit me with the hypospray on the furthest right. That’ll numb it.” You did it quickly. “Now turn whatever’s in there.”

“What?” You yelped. “Turn it.” You did as he asked, wincing as it spun through the flesh slightly. He could still feel a little bit it wasn’t that painful. “Okay it turned, it’s just in my flesh, not a rib. Now pull it out.” “But that’ll make you bleed more.”

“Just do it.” You prepared yourself and quickly yanked it out. He jumped again and winced. “Third hypospray from the right!” You quickly injected it and the bleeding immediately slowed. “Take the device on the top left and do a criss-cross on it.” You did it, watching as the material tightened up and closed the wound. “Now clean it and let’s hope we’re found before it’s infected.” 

“You don’t have a hypospray for that?” He just looked at you, making you roll your eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I will be.” You pulled out your communicator.

“Kirk to Kirk.”

“Kirk here.”

“Doctor McCoy and I are trapped in a cave by a piece of a ship. I’ll send you our location so that you two can come get us when the storm’s over.” “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Doctor McCoy got hit by a piece of shrapnel.”

“I’ll be fine, Jim.” Leonard called out. 

“You two hang tight, we’ll be there as soon as we can.” You took off the rest of your robes, leaving you in a black top and pants. 

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine.” Leonard replied. 

“How many of those numbing hyposprays do you have?”

“One more. I’ll let you know if it gets too bad.” He replied and you nodded. You were both silent as you took inventory of what you had in the cave. You had some emergency stuff but if the storm lasted a while there might be trouble. 

“Thanks.”

“Huh?” You spun your head around and saw Leonard looking at you.

“Thank you, for fixing me up. You did a pretty good job.”

“You’re welcome. I think that’s the first genuine compliment you’ve ever given me.” You smirked and he chuckled. 

“I guess I’ve been a little rough on you.” You sniffed in laughed and sat down next to him, getting close to him and the rock for warmth. 

“A little?” 

“Alright, alright, I get it.” He replied. “I guess I can be a little to hard on you.” You hummed in response. “Y’know you’re not that much of a peach yourself.”

“A georgia peach?” You replied and he rolled his eyes. “Look, I know I’m not the easiest person to work with but you’re not either. And we’re stuck in this cave together until they come and get us. So all we have to do is not kill each other until Jim and Spock come or something comes to kill us.”

“Comforting.” He replied.

“I try.”

XXXXXX

You were busy going through your logs on your PADD, sneaking your eyes over to Leonard every now and then to make sure he was alright. To make the time pass by a little faster, you played music lowly. Of course you two had to argue about what kind of music for a little bit before you just put on some Tchaikovsky. You had some spattered communication with Jim and Spock but the dust storms had picked up too much to the point they had to hole up somewhere too. Last you checked, they were still okay and the doctor had taken his last hypospray.

“So, why did you join up?” You were broken out of your thoughts to see Leonard messing around with a small rock in his hands. 

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on Jim, might as well be me.”

“That’s it?”

“I don’t really have a more noble or complicated reason. I didn’t really have any other place I wanted to go. Plus I didn’t want to stay in one place too long, I get too antsy. My parents did it, George joined up, Jim joined up, then I did. I get to strategize, protect, travel, and be with Jim at the same time.”

“So it was just the right thing to do?”

“In a sense. I mean, it’s always been me and Jim. I couldn’t imagine not being able to see him for five years. Jim always kept me out of trouble, I kept him from flying too close to the sun.”

“So you’ve always been a pain in the ass?” You genuinely laughed at that. 

“Yeah, I’ve always been a little shit. But I’ve put that energy towards keeping people safe and annoying you. Now I’ve told my story, spill.” He sighed and adjusted himself a little against the ground. 

“Eh, not much to tell. Wife left, I was a doctor that needed to get away, and found myself at star fleet.”

“I’ll never Jim calling me that day and telling me about you. He said you were some hypochondriac that nearly threw up on him in the plane.”

“And Jim told me you were his hot headed sister who couldn’t keep your trap shut.”

“And look where we are now: trapped in the same cave.” You mused. “Wanna play 20 questions?”

“What?” “I don’t know how long we’re gonna be here, might as well pass the time. I’ll go first if you want.” He sighed and nodded his head in agreement. “Alright, what do you miss most about Georgia?” You leaned against the cave wall on the other side of him, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“I know I’ll sound like an old southern gentleman but sitting on a front porch in a rocking chair.” You sniffed in laughter and he looked over at you with an annoyed look.

“Hey, I’m not judging. It does make you sound like an old man. Ask me a question.” He thought for a moment or two.

“What are you afraid of? There has to be something.” You groaned and covered your face. “C’mon!”

“No, you’ll laugh!”

“I won’t laugh, I promise. With what you’ve seen and done, it has to be truly scary.” He reasoned and you shook your head. “Then what is it?”

“It’s...birds. I’m afraid of birds.” There was silence between the two of you. 

“Are we talking geese or-” “Doesn’t matter. I’m deathly afraid of all birds.” When he didn’t say anything else, you looked up from your palm to see his body shaking with laughter. “Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“With everything we’ve seen!” “Alright Hercules, other than space what are you most afraid of?”

“Flying.”

“Man you chose the wrong job.”

“Come over here, I can barely hear you.” You rolled your eyes but made your way over to the wall next to him, resuming you previous position.  “What do you miss doing that you can’t do on the Enterprise?”

“I miss cooking. I love to cook and it sucks that we only have replicators. I’m a pretty good chef if I do say so. I make a mean skillet pot pie.”

“That sounds dangerous. I do miss home cooking.”

For the next fourteen questions, you found out a lot about each other. You both enjoy reading in your spare time, both think Jim and Carol should suck it up and go out already, you had the same favorite old tv show, and generally had a lot in common with each other. You told stories about your youth like when you fell of the roof of your grandfather’s barn, when you rescued a stray dog you found in some cornfield in Iowa, and how your father had raised you to become an old movie buff. He told you about med school and the time that he accidentally ate a hallucinogenic plant and was tripping for three days. It seemed like he could be just as reckless as you sometimes. He told stories of before you joined up and the adventures he and Jim were on, how many times he had pretty much saved Jim but didn’t think he did anything special. You would’ve hated to admit it before but you were enjoying getting to know him.

“After Starfleet, what do you want to do?” He asked. At this point, you were laying down next to him, sharing your robes as a pillow. 

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t cop out now.” He chuffed and you shook your head.

“I really don’t know, McCoy. This i pretty much all I’ve ever known. You can go to a hospital or clinic, I don’t know where else to go. I don’t want to be a civilian officer, don’t want to be a body guard to some stuffy politician.”

“You can settle down?” You snorted. 

“Yeah, me, settle down.”

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. Yeah, I want to be married and have kids one day but I just don’t think it’ll happen. I have a difficult job where I get hurt on a daily basis. Not a lot of people can handle that.”

“You’ll find somebody, Kirk. You’re a catch.” You looked over at him with a smirk. “Don’t tell anyone I told you that.” You laughed and propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at the open area at the corner of the cave.

“Last one, what’s one thing you wish you had known more about before today?”

“You.” He answered and you looked down at him. “I used to think you were the most annoying person on the ship. I was always too hard on you and didn’t even try to talk to you without Jim there to keep us calm.”

“Why did we both decide to hate each other?” You laid back down next to him. “Seems like if we weren’t on that ship we would get along well.” You were silent for a little while. “Perhaps we’re both stubborn. I didn’t like you because you didn’t like me. From the first time I got hurt-”

“You’re Jim’s sister. Jim’s my best friend. The first time you got hurt, I felt an even more overwhelming sense of duty. I had to take care of you even more so than my other patients. Not only are you his sister, you protect us with little regard to yourself. You’re only afraid of birds, not death. I know this is all jumbled but...I think I was scared to get to know you because-” You noticed how his speech was becoming slightly slurred.

“That sense of duty would be even stronger.” You were both silent again. “I’m sorry, Leonard.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“How about when we get out of here we share a drink. I’ve got some damn good whiskey I think you’d enjoy.”

“Sounds like a deal.” You shot up when you heard banging at the front of the cave and grabbed your phaser. You slowly made your way to the large piece of metal and heard some talking on the other side. 

“Romulans.” You muttered and hurried back over to Leonard. You cursed when you saw that he had begun sweating again, his skin pale and clammy. “Leonard, listen to me. I have to move you behind the rocks alright?” He nodded as his head lulled to the side. You grasped underneath his arms and began to drag him, noting that the piece of metal was moving slowly in the sand. “Don’t make a sound, alright? I’ll take care of them and we’ll get back to the Enterprise.” You turned to go away and find some cover but her grabbed your hand.

“Wait, Kirk.” You looked back down at him and he squeezed your hand. “Don’t make me patch you up again.” You smiled softly.

“I’ll do my best.” You hurried to a rock on the other side of the cave and waited for the Romulans to breach. It took them a little time but they finally moved the shrapnel enough to get through. You weren’t well versed in linguistics so you couldn’t make out what they were saying. They came over to the rock serving as heat and light and muttered amongst themselves. They knew someone was there. You could hear them growing closer and heard their phasers click off, presumably not to stun. You looked over at Leonard and saw his shaky breathing, you couldn’t let them find him. As they got closer to you, you finally popped over the rock and shot one of them in the knee and the other in the shoulder, stunning them. You sighed and almost went over to Leonard before a shot rang out and grazed past you.

There was one more waiting outside the cave. 

You hurried back behind your rock and thought about what to do. You could try to get some shots out but he had you cornered, he’d easily hit you first. If he got you, then he would get Leonard. He could also easily ambush Jim and Spock. You decided your best option was to wait and try to get the upper hand if he decided to move closer. 

You listened for his footsteps, grating the sand underneath him. If you could disarm him then you would get your chance. He wouldn’t wait for you to surrender, you didn’t wait for them. He was calling out something to you and even with the language barrier you knew he was cursing you out. As soon as you heard him close enough, you leapt over the rock and tackled him. You rolled to the other side of the cave and you tried to smash his hand against the wall so he would drop his phaser. You felt him kick your shin, then kneeing your hip and you cried out. With one last hit, he dropped his phaser but before you could get your shot, he punched your jaw and flipped the two of you over. You tried to shoot again but the shot just went to the rocks above. He now held your wrists in a crushing grip, willing you to let go. You did the only thing you could do and kick for some sort of advantage. You went for his knees, his stomach, any place you could think.  He was starting to get irritated, he was starting to get desperate. He let go of your unarmed hand to grab the knife in his belt and your eyes went wide. You had to act fast. You grabbed the only thing you could, a rock, and hit him in the side of the head. He finally let you go and you scurried away from him, training you phaser on him. You didn’t realize how hard you had hit him and realized he wasn’t going to move any time soon as blood came from his temple.  You hurried back over to Leonard to see that his eyes were drooping. 

“Leonard! Stay with me!”

“Are you hurt?”

“Just bruised, I’m fine. Hang in there, alright? We’ll figure this out!”

“Commander!” You heard a familiar voice call. 

“Spock!” You cried out. “Hurry, we need to get Dr. McCoy out of here.”

“On our way!” Jim yelled back. You looked back over at Leonard and held his hand. 

“C’mon Leonard, we’re almost there.”

XXXXXX

The events on Thurilia changed a lot of things. It was noticed immediately that you and Leonard weren’t bickering as much. Nurse Chapel noticed that the vein in his head wasn’t ready to pop at a moments notice anymore. It didn’t seem as explosive. Of course, there was still an argument after he quickly recovered about her almost getting stabbed but it wasn’t nearly as tense as the others. 

However, that wasn’t the only thing that got the crew talking. 

Leonard was no longer in his uniform. Instead, he was in his civilian clothes that he usually wore once the day was done: a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt from his college days. He walked down the halls of the enterprise late in the night to get to your door, two glasses in his hands. He knocked and the door soon slid open to reveal you in your civilian clothes with a smile: a fleet sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. It was a little shocking for you to see each other out of uniform but it was oddly comforting. It had shown that the time in the cave had done a lot of good. You two visiting each other for a nightcap had become a regular occurrence.

“What movie did you pick?” He asked as he walked in. 

“Princess Bride. It’s a movie from the 1980s.” His eyes widened, still shocked about your movie collection. “It’s got fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, escapes, true love, miracles!”

“Sounds surprisingly sappy for you.” He chuckled as he poured the drinks. You sat down on your bed with the remote in hand and rolled your eyes. 

“Did you not hear the first part of that?  What with all the violence?” He offered you a glass and you gladly took it. 

“Yeah, yeah I heard you. It sounds great.” He sat down next to you against the headboard and you started the movie. It was a little off-putting how grainy it was but you insisted it added to the charm of the film. The movie continued and Leonard looked down to see the stars in your eyes as you watched. You were absolutely mesmerized by the story and kept telling him facts about the film. He noticed the tightness in his chest and coughed a little, hoping it was just the burn of the whiskey. 

But it didn’t go away. 

XXXXXX

Spock and Uhura watched with wide eyes as they rounded the corner to see Leonard smiling with two glasses in his hand as he walked into your room. 

“Spock, tell me I’m not hallucinating.”

“I believe, ashayam, we are witnessing what you humans call a miracle.” 

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Badass || Bill Denbrough x Reader

Day 2 of Fictober

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x [gn] Reader

Requested: how about you do a bill x reader where the reader is a badass but still in the losers club???? just came up with it!!! btw love ya work and love ya!!!!

A//n: Aw thank you so much! That’s so sweet of you. Love you too darling, hope you like it 💛💛💛 and thanks for being so patient like the rest y'all 😘 [also i am in no way a badass so I’m sorry, I tried lol] edit: OKAY IM ACTUALLY SO PROUD OF THIS, HOLY CRAP?? And again, i finished and pressed saved draft 30 SECONDS before midnight, so fight me this counts lol i just had to set up the title and tags and stuff on my computer before posting. anyways, thanks for waiting for this request, i hope you enjoy this, like i said, im actually surprised at how proud of this one i am!

Fictober Prompt: “that’s the easy part”

Warnings: Blood

“ROCK WAR~!”

The next thing you knew, rocks were soaring across the stream straight for your head. Luckily for your skull, your reflexes were faster than you remembered and you managed to duck before a giant stone could knock you out.

And yet you still heard a thump?

You peek out from behind your arms, looking behind you to see Richie laying flat on his ass, his glasses askew. You winced before you caught sight of a giant rock near his foot and quickly made a grab for it.

Your glare stretches across the stream, settling on the leader of the bigoted pack. You kissed the rock as you met his eye, a devilish smirk stretching across your face as you wound up. Bowers was scrambling for ammo but you had already released. The rock found its target with a satisfying ‘thunk’ leaving Bowers on his ass clutching his bleeding nose. He pulls his hand away, gaping at the overwhelming amount of blood that had already painted his hand before locking eyes with you.

“KISS MY ASS, HENRY!” You hollered with a triumphant smile. “YOU TWISTED FUCK!”

“What the fuck?” Belch and Victor began scrambling back, looking around desperately for rocks of their own.

The Losers spared wide eyed glances your direction as they unleashed a storm of rocks on the now deeply unsettled Bowers gang. Bill was the only one who hesitated, his wide blue eyes frozen on you when you turned to give him a smirk. You had been looking for ammo and it seemed he had the perfect one. You cocked a brow, your devilish smirk still dominating your face as you gestured to the stone in his hand.

“You gonna use that, Billy Boy?”

You threw a few quick glances across the barrens making sure your weren’t gonna get hit. Luckily morale seemed to be growing scarce over there.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t completely gone.

“Ow,” Bill hissed, right hand clutching his left shoulder. “F-f-uck.”

Your head whipped around on your shoulders again to see Victor Criss’s upper lip twitching into a satisfied smile as he looked at Bill. You returned your attention to your boyfriend and the rock he held out for you.

“Let me,” you seethed.

You snatched the rock up, stomping forward with a wild glare in your eyes that was enough to intimidate the bleach blonde. Victor was already on his heels and running, but you weren’t letting him get away that easy. You threw with all your might and watched with pride as it soared through the air and hit him directly on the spine that was poking through his back. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground, his chin meeting the very rock bed that fueled the fight.

“EAT SHIT,” You spit. “YOU LACKEY ASS FUCK!”

~~~~

“Turn it off!” Beverly cried. “TURN IT OFF!”

The projector in Bill’s garage had quickly turned into It’s stage as It put on a horrific display for you and the rest of your friends. What was just once pictures of Derry, suddenly turned into pictures of Bill’s family - you missed Georgie terribly, having grown so close with him the year before he died when you and Bill first got together. And now you were all staring death in the eyes as It manipulated the very air in the room around you. Every click of the projector put you on edge, the stroking effect and of course the child eating clown tormenting you all.

It was hard to process your own thoughts as they were quickly drowning in everyone’s screams and your own fears. You clutched Bill tightly to your side, your arms linked and your fingers stitched together. Everything was moving so incredibly fast it was near impossible to process until you realized you weren’t holding Bill’s hand anymore.

“Y-Y/n!” He cried, tugging at the back of your shirt before it slips from his grip. “Y/N!”

Mike had already unplugged the projector, that much you knew. But you were fucking desperate. You lunged for the projector, gripping it tightly as you held it high above your head. With a guttural scream, you threw it as hard as you possibly could into the cement floor. It broke instantly into several unidentifiable pieces, the room now completely dark and eerily silent.

Heaving, you finally look up to meet your friends faces. Each of them were gaping at you, an expression they seemed to always be wearing around you.

“Well,” you say finally. “I think it’s safe to say we found It.”

~~~~

“How hard is it,” you seethed, your voice growing in volume. “to NOT wander off? In a FUCKING HAUNTED HOUSE?!”

You took all your anger and fear out on the door Richie was being held in. Your elbows were practically glued to the surface while your fists and forearms repeatedly pounded on the door. First Eddie, now Richie. You swear, these idiots had to me smarter than this.

“Richie!” Bill joined your side, pounding on the door that had closed all on its own.

“RICHARD!” You pounded on the door again, your anger turning to pure fear that was now stinging your throat and eyes as tears began to well. “This is not fucking funny, open the goddamn door asshole!”

Your hand wraps around the doorknob again, and you shake the handle, jostling it around in hopes something will cave. When the door flew open, you didn’t know whether to chalk it up to luck, skill, or it was all still part of It’s torment but you didn’t care. Richie was alive, and tumbled into your and Bill’s grip.

“Richie!” You hugged the boy tightly, then pulled away with your signature glare. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?”

“N-n-no t-time,” Bill says, looking between you and Richie with determination in his eyes. “L-let’s get outta here.”

A muted thump answered before you could. You, Richie and Bill all looked to the source of the noise to see the moth-eaten mattress from earlier was now shifting by itself. It looked as if it was filled with jumping beans. A melon sized lump grew in the center before the fabric split to reveal the disheveled and muddied up head of your friend.

He smiles at your twisted expressions. “Wanna play loogie?”

Your reflexes are faster than your thought process and you run forward. Just as a strange black goo starts to spill from fake Eddie’s mouth, your leg was swinging through the air. Your left foot connected with the left side of his jaw, narrowly missing the sizzling black ink and Eddie’s head popped off his body as you put it across the room.

It sails through the air, his greasy hair catching several cobwebs as it spins. Specks of the goo go flying landing on the walls and ceiling before the small head collides with a disturbing ‘thunk’.

“What the fuck?!”

“Holy shit,”

Eddie’s head lands in the far corner of the room where it rolls back and forth on his right ear before settling. He was groaning as if all the spinning had made him dizzy. The ooze of black goo came out even faster as if he were ralphing, and it was now pooling across the floor and inching towards their feed.

“Oh, that’s fucking GROSS!” Richie looks quickly to you. “And now you made him angry!”

“At least I did something!”

“Guys,” Bill pleads. “C-come on,”

The pool of black tar is spreading fast and you and Richie don’t have to think twice to listen to Bill. You all turn on your heel, only to find three doors instead of one.

Very Scary, Scary, and Not Scary At All.

Not Scary At All was the winner, Bill and Richie quickly decide. And despite your protest that it was all clearly a trick and the doors were misnomers, they opened the Not Scary At All.

“Where’s My Shoe?”

The light was turned on to reveal the severed body of Betty Ripsom and you had promptly decided you had had more than enough.

“WHERE THE FUCK WERE HER LEGS?!” Richie cried.

“I’ve got a guess but I’m not sticking around to find out.” You growled.

You cast a glance behind you to see the tar had eaten up most of the floor, giving you little room to do what you wanted. Luckily, you didn’t need much. You took a few steps back and looked at the door in the center, your eyes settling deep into the crimson letters spelling “scary.” You were certainly glad you realized when you did that unlike the door that held Richie hostage, this one could easily be broken down from where you stood.

You sighed. “I have to do everything.”

~~~~

“WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB, ASSHOLE!”

Richie’s bat swung through the air and knocked the clown back. Pennywise quickly recovered and lunged for the nearest target with a disgusting growl. You quickly scrambled for a weapon as Mike stepped up to bat. He threw the fence iron rod at the monster but it was stopped midair when It’s jaw unhinged and out came several charred arms holding it in place. More and more reached out from inside It’s throat and made a grab at Mike who was fighting back the force of all the arms.

You never happier to have been too slow to save your friend when you saw Stanley pick up one of several spare iron rods off the ground. With a brave determination, he launched forward with a fierce battle cry as his torch came down on the branch of arms that now recoiled, saving Mike. It stumbled back, the charred arms slinking back into its mouth and disappearing and Pennywise stumbles again when Richie kicks It forward and away from him. Unfortunately that brought It right to Stanley.

“Stan, watch out!” Bill cries from your side.

But it’s too late, It’s head had already changed to the same horribly contorted lady that had you had already found attacking your friend. Only this time it was still wearing It’s clown suit, and it was racing straight for Stan.

“Stan!” You cried, already running forward after him only to stop second later.

Yet again Stanley roared, striking the clown across the face with the most furious look you had ever seen on him. Despite the horrifying circumstances, you were quite proud. You quickly fell back into line, ready to fight with the others and you smiled yet again when Mike followed up Stan’s strike with a devastating blow of his own.

The small moment of victory was soon cut short - a pattern you were currently getting used to - when a pair of red tentacles-turned-crab-claws pulled Mike to the ground.

“Mike!” Eddie shrieked.

Mike was able to barrel roll to safety as as It advanced on him. The end of each gigantic claw striking the earth and narrowly missing him and you and your friends quickly followed not knowing what to do. You couldn’t watch it anymore, and you hated yourself for what you were about to do but you knew you would simply never forgive yourself if you lost Mike, or any of your friends.

For what Bill wished was the first time of the summer, he felt you leave his side as you charged headlong into danger. Another guttural scream left you as you hurled yourself onto It’s back, your iron spike in front of It’s neck, both hands on either side of the rod and you pulled as hard as you could.

Pennywise’s disturbing, maniacal laughter grew even scarier, something you didn’t think was possible as he began to suffocate. You let yourself drop back down to the ground, your grip still tight on your weapon as you used your position to pull It down to the ground. It was still laughing through chocked breathes but it had done what you hoped, and stopped, Mike had gotten to safety with the Losers.

And for one glorious moment you felt indestructible. Until you saw it shift before you’re very eyes and your eyes widened, as did the eyes of your friends and Bill. It’s complete figure changed, starting with It’s head. You and the Losers no longer saw a painted lady, a mummy, a horrible memory, an abusive father, or even a late little brother. But they saw you, their friend Y/n, cowering and crying under the iron rod that pinned you to the ground by the neck.

“Please,” It whimpered, bottom lip quivering horribly. “Please don’t. I don’t wanna die.”

The real you was staring at the sight of yourself, the real fake you that you always tried so hard to push down. You knew it was Pennywise, but it was enough to make you choke completely. You were always so confident, and you were good at sticking up for yourself and the rest of the Losers. At least that’s all they ever saw, that’s all you ever let them see. Deep down you were terrified, and much more than that you were terrified that your own fear would get in the way of protecting your loved ones.

Like now.

“Y/n?” Bill’s soft voice called out to you, breaking you from your spell.

You look down at your blubbering face, tears streaking down your cheeks as you begged yourself for mercy. Several pleas leaving your lips when finally you pulled the rod back. Your eyelids flicker open, gazing back up at you and watch your every move cowering.

“Y/n?” Ben asks.

You don’t answer, you just straighten, your demon double cowering beneath you and it only angers you more to know none of this is It’s own fear. It was yours. It was mocking you.

Which was pretty stupid, considering you still had the spike.

You bare your teeth as you summon your strength, throwing the end of the spike into the ground, going right through your throat.

~~~~

You watched with head on Bill’s shoulder as another drop of blood from your palm fell onto the grass. You were trying to think about anything but the pain, and with everything you had faced this summer, you certainly had the pick of the litter.

“It feels different now,” you say, voice quiet. “And not just cause It’s gone, ya know?”

You even hate to let yourself believe that, but for the sake of your sanity and the chance of every getting another night’s sleep you’d have to believe it. And knowing Bill as long as you did, you know he felt it too.

You pick your head up off his shoulder and look to his gaze break away from the hills in the distance to meet your eyes. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and you know for sure he’s thinking it too. Beverly was leaving for Portland, Stan said he heard whispers from his parents that they might be moving and that was all on top of the heavy weight of your guys’ trauma that had already begun to drain everyone.

“A-a-at least we-we’ve got each o-other,”

You smiled, nudging his shoulder with your own.

“Big sap,” you chuckled.

He smiled a little, enjoying the small moment between the two of you. But it disappears when his mind returns to image that had been replaying in his mind nonstop since Neibolt. The image of your cowering form that bothered you so much. He had never seen you - the real you, that was being confronted, that is - so distraught. He gulps, gathering his strength.

“W-what made you s-see that?” He asks.

You don’t answer for a long moment, and Bill fears he’s upset you. Or confused you, but he doubts that is the case. Finally, you look up at him, and lick your lips nervously.

“I’m scared Bill,” you croaked, heart pounding wildly at the admission. “I’m always worrying about you, I’m always worrying about Richie, Mike, Eddie, Stanley, Bev, and Ben. I’m always worried something is going to happen. I’m always scared something’s gonna happen to the ones I love, and I get scared that I’m not gonna be enough to protect them.”

You take a deep breath, swallowing all the air you lost in your unintentional rant. Somewhere during your confession, your gaze broke away from Bill’s gaze and now here you were afraid to even look him in the eye.

There’s another silence that Bill finally ends after a small thoughtful moment.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/n,” he says, pulling your eyes to him. “I-I-It’s part of being h-human.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying your best to banish the image of your cowardly form from your mind. Suddenly the sting of your cut didn’t hurt so bad.

You looked back into Bill’s soft eyes, and shrugged.

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel too great either.”

He nudged you again with a charming smile.

“Well, y-you’re still a badass. Y-You’re always s-standing up for us,”

You chuckled weakly, sending him a smirk.

“That’s the easy part,” you say. “It’s looking out for myself that’s harder.”

“T-t-tell ya what?” You raise a brow at his sudden demeanor. “I’ll be t-the b-b-badass lookin out for you,”

You laughed, leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss that turned his cheeks absolutely scarlet.

You smiled when you saw this. “Thanks Billy Boy. Appreciate it. But I’d still like to work on myself a bit, ya know?”

He smiles again, this time triumphantly. “Deal.”

[thenovelartist]

Burned Beginnings, Chapter 3

<<Previous  Next>>

7. Homemade Gifts

Marinette prided herself in not caring about the looks of others. After all, beauty meant nothing if their heart was trash. They’d always just be a pig in lipstick.

Unfortunately, if they did have a good heart, Marinette discovered that she did care for their looks a little more than she would have cared to admit. Particularly when it came to a former model turned baker.

Which was why, much to her chagrin, she’d ended up losing the bet.

It was just a pair of glasses. A simple, functional accessory. However, with the frame he had, ones that held a dark green hue that accented his eyes and were square in form—somehow, a perfect match for his angular face—she couldn’t help but to have stared a bit.

By the time she caught herself, Adrien was already grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

She hoped beyond all hope her cheeks hadn’t colored, or at the very least, Adrien hadn’t caught it.

And now, she was having to bite the bullet and watch an anime of his choosing. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad loss.

Hopefully.

Depending on what he chose…

Oh, please don’t be anything stupid.

Marinette finished her work, then clocked out, hurrying to go shower quickly before Adrien came over. Not that Adrien hadn’t seen her covered in flour and looking like a hot mess already, but she’d rather be clean and comfy if she was going to have to suffer through her punishment for losing the bet. They had planned to meet at her house for the viewing. Adrien would bring over his computer and cables to hook it up to their tv so that he could easily access his anime accounts. He said it would be a piece of cake.

She threw on a comfy t-shirt and lounge pants, then she dried her hair. Once that was done, she went downstairs to begin preparing the dinner she’d prepped earlier that day.

Halfway through, a knock sounded on the door, signaling Adrien’s arrival. She answered, only for her gaze to fall to the box in his hands. “What’s that?”

One of his hands reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I wanted to bring some homemade food since I knew you’d be working all day. And I need to practice my cooking skills, anyway.”

She smiled, taking the offered gift. “Thanks, but I actually started making something thinking that it was the least I could do since you were bringing everything over.”

Adrien looked surprised for a moment before he chuckled. “We should have planned that better.”

“Oh well. Left overs for days, right?” she said with a shrug, stepping aside to let him in.

“That’s one way to look at it.”

 8. Commissions

“Can I ask a question?”

“I don’t know? Can you?”

Adrien looked up from his computer screen to shoot a grinning Marinette a flat look. This was the fourth time he’d come over so they could continue the anime he’d chosen. He had known from Mr. Dupain that he and his daughter both loved video games, and henceforth, he’d chosen accordingly in hopes to get Marinette hooked.

He knew he’d succeeded when they binged the first four episodes the first day. He’d then hung it over her head that “why would he come back again? He’d won the bet, and she’d paid her price, so for what reason did he have to come over again?”

He had had fun teasing her, because her huffy, unamused expression was too darn endearing.

“Look,” she’d said. “I just need to know what happens to Princess Bitch.”

He’d snorted, trying and failing to withhold his laugh. “You don’t get to call her that yet.”

“Why not? You don’t get to pull that level of manipulative bullshit, ruining the other person’s life like that, and not be dubbed with the title ‘Princess Bitch’.”

“So…” he drawled out, teasingly. “Are you saying you care about this anime?”

She’d fallen silent, and he couldn’t help but to laugh once more.

In the end, after more teasing on his part, he’d caved and said he’d come over again so they could finish it out.

Hence why he was here now.

“Haha, funny,” Adrien deadpanned, turning back to his screen.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice,” she said a little too sweetly, placing two plates of food on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

He took a second to log into his account before turning back to her. “I don’t know if this is overstepping, but… are you happy working at your parents’ bakery?”

Marinette froze, and for a moment, Adrien grew worried.

Thankfully, she seemed to take it well, although it was clear she was confused. “What brought that on?”

Adrien shrugged, looking at his screen again to select their anime of choice. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I feel like we’re close enough to be friends. Right?”

Marinette didn’t hesitate to nod. “Yeah, I would consider you one.”

Adrien pushed aside the very happy feeling that blossomed in his chest. “I guess I’m just… curious… about you… as a friend, of course.”

“No, I get it,” she assured. “Now that you mention it, I guess I could say the same for you.”

Adrien felt extra warm now. “So, do I get an answer to my question?”

Marinette paused, her expression falling as she bit her lip. “Only if you promise to keep it secret from my parents.”

“Yeah, totally,” he promised, smile falling from his face. “Cat’s honor.”

Marinette sighed. “I… I am happy,” she said. “Really. It’s not an issue of me being happy here. But running my parents’ bakery wasn’t my dream, you know?”

With the episode loading, Adrien decided to take a seat next to Marinette. “What was your dream?”

“I wanted to be a fashion designer.”

That came as a surprise to Adrien. “Really? What stopped you?”

“Chloe.”

Somehow… that answer shouldn’t have surprised him. “Chloe?”

“She got her mom to block me from going to any fashion or design school.”

“She what?!”

“Shhh!” Marinette shushed, finger over his lips. “Not so loud.”

Adrien felt his face heat at her touch. “Er…sorry.”

She then took her finger away, and Adrien tried not to think about why he was disappointed. “Chloe did that?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper. “How? And how’d you know?”

“Um…” She suddenly turned sheepish, and that spitfire edge he’d come to love diminished a bit. It made her look younger and sweeter. He didn’t mind that change. “Well, due to the methods used to acquire such information, I must refrain from answering that. Just know I trust my source and the information that was found.”

Adrien sighed. Honestly, even if he wanted to come to Chloe’s defense, he couldn’t. She ran in a pretty elite crowd and had some powerful connections. If she wanted to block someone from entering a fashion school, she could. And since Adrien knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t be above such tricks, Adrien accepted Marinette’s word as truth.

Besides, he knew Marinette well enough by now to know she hated liars. He doubted she’d lie about this.

“So, have you thought about applying outside the country?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “I just… didn’t. It felt too overwhelming.”

“So, what about skipping the education entirely? Find a niche and start your own business taking commissions or what not?”

Marinette paused, her eyes glazing over a moment as she thought. “I… it’s an idea that’s come up before.”

“So, what’s stopping you?” Adrien asked. “Even if you got an education later, you’d at least have a reputation you’re building up now.”

Again, Marinette was silent. “You know…” she began, her tone softer and more earnest than he’d ever heard before. It felt raw. Open. And that did something to his heart.

Protect her. The words popped up in his head, and his heart clenched onto them before he could even realize it. But all he could do at the moment was listen. So he would.

“I decided I’d step back and do a lot of thinking.”

“About?”

She sighed. “It’s easy to say ‘I love fashion so I want to be a designer’. It’s easy to have those dreams. It’s easy to think that your hobby can become your profession. But the easy stuff isn’t all the fashion world consists of. It’s a competitive world filled with both nice people and people like Audrey Bourgeois. It’s filled with more than fashion, and when faced with the reality that I’d been barred from fashion college because one person in the industry had that much power, I had to do some reflecting. If I accept fashion as my career, I get to set foot into that world. And I had to face the question of ‘am I ready and willing to accept that?’”

When Marinette came to a pause, Adrien stopped to think of his response. “Honestly, as someone who comes from that world, I completely understand your feelings. I’ve seen the good, and I’ve seen the bad. I’ve watched people succeed and climb the ladder, and I’ve watched people crash and burn. And I think there’s such a fine line between the two.”

“See, that just feels validating,” Marinette said, small smile on her face. “I understand that that is basically every job field. I understand some are better than others. But with what I’ve seen from the fashion world… I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m as adamant about it as I was when I was in high school.”

Adrien sighed. “I don’t understand what it’s like to have a passion,” he admitted. “I’ve never had one, so this might not mean anything coming from me, but I think… it would be better to keep your passion a hobby… if the profession will burn you out. Because then you’re not just loosing your profession, but the hobby meant to bring you joy.”

Marinette was silent for a minute, and Adrien thought he’d said something wrong. But that tension in his chest eased hen a small smile crept up on her lips. “That’s good advice,” she finally said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Adrien reached out to pat her shoulder, surprising her a moment. When she turned to him, eyes wide and clear once again, he gave her a smile. “I’ll be rooting for you. And if there’s anything I can help you with, I’d be happy to assist.”

Slowly, her small smile grew. “Thanks,” she said, her voice surprisingly sweet. But she soon turned away, and Adrien pulled his hand back. “So, um… fair’s fair,” she started up again. “Are you happy working here?”

Adrien didn’t hesitate to nod. “Honestly, it’s hard work, but it’s something that I chose, for once. This is something I myself am doing. I don’t want to say the novelty of doing this hasn’t worn off yet, but it feels… worthwhile.”

Marinette nodded. “Have you considered other paths or what you want to do for the future? Or do you see this being long term?”

Adrien shrugged. “I don’t know, yet,” he said. “Honestly, this whole ‘I’m my own person and on my own’ thing still hasn’t fully caught up to me yet. I feel like I’m still playing pretend. It’s… weird.” He turned back to her, forcing a smile. “Hazard of growing up super sheltered, I guess.”

Marinette hummed. “Well, I think you know Papa will love having you around as long as you plan to stay.”

He smiled, a genuine grin this time. “Yeah, I know. And you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you mind having Asshole Agreste around?”

Her expression changed from shock to irritation. “Are you really gonna dredge up that old nickname? No, wait!” Her brow furrowed in a mix of anger and confusion. “Where did you even hear that? I never called you that here!”

He grinned a little wider than he’d thought he would. “Chloe.”

Marinette growled.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know I don’t think of you like that anymore, right?”

He couldn’t help teasing her a bit more. “I don’t know. Do I?”

Marinette glowered at him, and he burst into laughter again.

With a growl, she turned away, crossing her arms with a huff. “Just turn on the anime again. I need to see Princess Bitch get her comeuppance.”

Adrien laughed. “We’re only on episode fourteen. You still don’t get to call her that yet.”

“Why?” she cried. “What’s gonna happen in the next few episodes that changes? Does she get worse? And if so, how? She’s already about as low as she can go. Like, almost past Chloe-level.”

He shook his head. “Nevermind. Just wait and see.”

 9. Baking Lessons

Marinette felt like she was up to her ears in information.

After her talk with Adrien, she decided that she should do her research on the fashion industry as much as she could. But she also knew to take everything with a grain of salt. Only once she felt prepared enough would she make a decision on her future.

On one hand, it was satisfying to pick up her dreams again, dust them off, and put plans to them. On the other, it was overwhelming, and more did once did Adrien’s warning of “don’t burn out your passion” cross her mind.

It was well into the afternoon that she realized a break might be in order and food would be beneficial.

She headed down into kitchen, only to startle at the unfamiliar face there.

“Um… what are you doing in my house?”

Adrien glanced over his shoulder to look at her, then shot her a smile. “Your parents asked me to. They each had their break and said you hadn’t been down all day. So now it’s my turn for a break, and they asked if I’d take a minute to make sure you ate.”

Marinette looked at the sandwich on the plate he extended towards her. After staring at it a moment, she realized she should take it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Busy?”

“Yeah. I… kinda forgot the last time I was so engrossed in something that I forgot to eat like this.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Um… I decided to dig into researching the fashion industry.”

Adrien turned back around, glancing at her with surprise. “Oh? How’s it going?”

Marinette’s lips pursed in thought. “Up and down. Every other article seems to pull me the opposite direction.”

“Fair,” he said with a nod. “Which way are you leaning now?”

“The ‘This is bullshit. Why do I want to be in this hellish industry?’ direction.”

A lopsided grin flashed across Adrien’s face. “I feel that on a personal level.”

“I’m sure you do,” she muttered, walking over to the table to have a seat. “But enough of me griping. You? Have you thought of your future at all since our talk?”

He grabbed a paper bag on the counter, pulling out a tupperware container with a sandwich of his own inside. “Not really.”

“Not really?” she probed, pointing at the seat directly across from her.

He took the hint and took a seat. “I haven’t given much thought to anything beyond the baking lessons your father has been giving me. I mean, maybe one day I’ll go to school for something, but I’ve really decided to give myself a full year of this before committing to anything. Let me learn how to be an adult on my own first before I move forward, you know? It’s easier to start running when your feet are solidly under you.”

“Understandable,” Marinette said. “But just so you know, I’m going to hold you to that, now.”

“Oh?”

“Yup. I’d like you to know you have six months, three weeks, and five days remaining before you have to make a decision.”

Adrien froze, sandwich halfway to his mouth.

Marinette couldn’t help but giggle.

“Is that a legit number or one you just threw out.”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think that when it comes to you, I don’t always know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

She giggled, feeling a little too giddy for her liking. She played it off with a wink. “Got to keep you on your toes somehow.”

Adrien scoffed. “Don’t worry about that,” he dismissed with a charming smile that she hated to admit could knock her off her feet if she were standing. “You already do.”

[blazingfirepig113]

Love is a curse

(gojo x gender neutral reader)

“I know that you’re wrong for me

Gonna wish we never met

on the day I leave”

This is bad.

Gojo thought the moment he felt his heart flutter when he heard (y/n) let out a merry laugh at whatever one of the students spouted out.

This is so so so bad...what a cruel cruel thing.

Gojo glanced away from the sight, scared that if he looked any longer, his heart would explode.

How utterly pathetic.

How utterly pathetic how if (y/n) asks for anything, he’ll give them everything.

Absolutely everything he could give.

If Gojo could buy the world, he’d give it to them.

Why me? Shit, what a stroke of bad luck.

Gojo had cursed every moment his heart fluttered.

“Gojo-san, are you okay? You look like you need to shit.” (y/n) asked, placing a hand on Gojo’s shoulder.

Kind yet blunt. (y/n) was a different breed.

They were brave and strong, able to face situations that can have other’s shaking on the spot.

They were fun and creative, able to lift the mood with just a few words.

And the sharp tongue (y/n) was blessed with...or cursed, some may think, had them caught in terrible situations, sometimes ending with Gojo having to save them.

But everything about them, everything about (y/n), may it be their sharp tongue or the bell-like peals of laughter that accompanied them wherever they went, made Gojo’s heart flutter, constrict, as a flash of fondness, warmth, and softness filled him.

But he knew, from the start, that this fluttering on his heart, this feeling, was bad news.

“Ever so blunt, (y/n). Where’s the class?” Gojo pouted while (y/n) rolled their eyes at him.

“Shitting is normal, Gojo-san. You can’t tell me you don’t shit out all those diabetic sweets you eat.” (y/n) said, crossing their arms over their chest.

Gojo’s gaze lingered on them for a second, his eyes sparkling with an emotion not visible to anyone else because of his blindfold.

Why does it have to be me, (y/n)? Why do you have to be so damn attractive?

Gojo grabbed the reins for his thoughts before it went too far, hiding his clear displeasure with a mocking grin.

“I suppose you’re right. Gotta hand it to you, (y/n) for being so smart.” Gojo praised as he slung his long arm around (y/n)’s shoulder, ignoring the fluttering of his heart; ignoring whatever feelings he had.

Because it’s no good.

(y/n) narrowed their eyes at Gojo.

“Are you mocking me?” They asked flatly, not at all bothered by how close Gojo was.

Gojo felt relieved and hurt at that;

He felt relieved because it was only him who was affected by (y/n) while they remained indifferent...and hurt because of that same reason, because it was only him who was affected.

“Not at all, (y/n). You’re a keen individual, gifted with a talented mind and a sharp tongue…” Gojo trailed off, removing his arm from (y/n)’s shoulder.

He then proceeded to walk away from them, only to dramatically glance back at (y/n) when he was a good few feet away.

“Honestly, all I have is praises for you.” He said, sending them a grin before facing forward and waving for (y/n) to come and follow.

“Come on, let’s buy some dango and sweet tea.” He ushered, acting as if his heart was racing...acting as if (y/n) didn’t make him feel things.

It’s better this way.

If Gojo had glanced back at that moment, he would’ve seen the mask of indifference fall off (y/n)’s face. And he would’ve seen the light tint on their cheeks as a small fond smile painted their face.

“I don’t even like sweet tea, it tastes like water with sugar.”

And Gojo pushed the growing feelings in his chest as he let out a laugh that sounded more in pain than happy.

“I brought you down to your knees

Cause they say that misery loves company”

“If it’s hurting you so much, then just fucking tell them already.” Shoko said, rolling her eyes as she took a long drag from her lit cigar.

The stress Gojo was putting her plus the usual stress from work, had brought her back to smoking.

“I can’t...nor do I want to.” Gojo huffed like a hard headed child.

Shoko let out a sigh as she purposely blew smoke at Gojo’s face.

“If you’re not gonna do it, then stop bitching about it. Don’t drag me down on your little train of misery.” She said.

Shoko deeply cared for Gojo, she did. But he was destroying himself because of his feelings and she’d prefer it if he didn’t drop his emotional burden on her.

Saying what she wanted to say, Shoko had dropped her cigar before stomping on it.

“Face your feelings before they kill you.”

“It’s not your fault I ruin everything

And it’s not your fault I can’t be what you need”

Gojo had wanted to offer (y/n) a shoulder to cry on. He wishes he could.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself.

Because he was scared.

Scared that if he offered (y/n) his shoulder to cry on, he’d only fall deeper for them.

“Stop crying, (y/n). You’re fully aware that life as sorcerer’s is dangerous. We face death all the time.” Gojo said, arms crossed over his chest as a way to stop them from reaching out for (y/n).

(y/n) glanced up at Gojo, nose red and tear stains on their cheeks.

They let out a shaky pained laugh as they wiped their nose and cheek with the sleeve of their shirt.

“Shesh, no need to be so cold…” (y/n) choked out, throat dry.

It took all of Gojo not to engulf them in a warm hug, tell them that it’s okay...that he was there for them.

“Can’t you comfort me, Gojo-san?” (y/n)’s voice was small as they hugged their knees to their chest.

Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks to not cave in to (y/n)'s plea.

“No. I’m not going to give you the comfort that you want, (y/n). Grow up and face that this is the reality we live in.” He said, rather harshly.

(y/n)’s shoulders sag as they buried their face on their knees, letting out a broken laugh.

“How cruel of you, Gojo-san…” (y/n) murmured, their voice muffled.

Gojo gritted his jaw so hard, that he was worried he might break his teeth.

“Get used to it.”

This is the only way.

Gojo thought as he turned on his heel, walking away as (y/n)’s sob racked through the room.

He walked away with a heart too heavy for him to carry.

“Baby, angel’s like you can’t fly down here with me

I’m everything they said I would be”

“(y/n) had transferred to the Kyoto school...they were running low on staff and they had offered to go.” Shoko suddenly informed the snowy haired man one day.

Gojo hummed, acting indifferent despite the bleeding pain in his heart.

He already knew that.

After all, (y/n) had told him they were going.

“Gojo-san, I’ve been offered a position in the Kyoto school…” (y/n) had approached him one day.

Gojo fast steps faltered for a second, before they shifted into a lazy shuffle as his heart dropped to his feet.

“And? Why should I care? Why are you even informing me of this?” Gojo asked, voice emotionless.

He halted and glanced back to see (y/n) bow their head, a small smile on their face.

“I knew you’d ask that….” They murmured.

“I just wanted you to know....I wanted to hear your opinion on it….”

Gojo wanted to tell them to stay. Don’t go.

But he could not allow himself.

Instead, he ignored the sharp pain in his heart and waved dismissively at them.

“Do what you want. I’m not your dad or teacher.” Gojo said dismissively.

Dismissing (y/n). Dismissing his feelings.

Because, as he constantly reminded himself, this was the only way.

When Gojo had moved to walk away, (y/n) spoke up.

“I know I’m not anyone important to you…” They trailed off, biting their lower lip.

No, you’re the most important person to me…

Gojo bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying things that will only make his heart bleed more.

“But Gojo-san is someone very important to me…” (y/n) said as they placed a hand on their chest with a sad smile.

Gojo willed his face to not falter.

Don’t falter now.

“Everyone’s saying how Gojo-san’s so mean and arrogant...a prideful prick, they say….”

Gojo wanted to laugh, because it was true.

Hearing (y/n) practically calling him a prick made the pain in his chest lessen just a tiny bit.

“But I think you’re very kind.”

Gojo jolted in surprise.

“An arrogant piece of shit, yeah...you are one…” (y/n) said, chuckling a bit.

“But you’re a very kind arrogant piece of shit….that’s why I-”

“Don’t say it, (y/n). Don’t you dare say it...please.” Gojo said, quickly moving to clamp a hand on (y/n)’s lips, ignoring how his heart stuttered.

(y/n) roughly shrugged his hand away, holding his wrist.

“Why shouldn’t I say it? It’s the truth.” They said, eyes soft and gentle.

Gojo pulled away, stepping a few steps back, head hung low.

“Because I don’t want to hear it.” He said, voice cracking.

(y/n) took in a deep breath before sighing.

“Alright….but you already know what I was going to say…” (y/n) trailed off.

“Don’t worry, Gojo-san...I’ll be out of your hair immediately….”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time. I guess this is goodbye…”

Gojo didn’t dare raise his head. He didn’t-couldn’t.

Because if he did, he knew he’d ask (y/n) to stay….and (y/n) would. They would stay.

“Goodbye….Gojo Satoru-san.”

With that said, (y/n) was gone, leaving without a trace and taking Gojo’s injured heart with them.

“Why didn’t you ask them to stay?” Shoko asked, knowing that Gojo was hurt upon (y/n) departing.

“Because…” Gojo trailed off, no longer able to hold back the clogging and drying of his throat as his eyes stung with tears.

He never did get to finish his sentence because he had broken down after that.

Shoko had offered him some comfort, already knowing what he was going to say.

Because I can’t love them freely….because my love would be my weakness and I couldn’t bear the thought of putting (y/n) in harm's way...all because I’m in love.

Because if I were to love (y/n), I’d may as well have cursed them.

Because love is the most twisted curse of them all.