#i think i wanted to allude to the malice eyes…? not sure

[lunavagans]

A five-minute WIP I‘ll never finish. I think I was going for something similar to the nightmare one? At least in the sort of scary picture book style, it‘s very fun.

[tenkobitch]

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

Neuvillette x Immortal! G/N Reader

Genre: Fluff, immortals/long living characters, eternal lovers, married couple, established relationship

A/N: I was scrolling through Tumblr and got inspired to write this from ONLY seeing Neuvillette's name. Anyways, I wrote this while listening to Malice Mizer (Gardenia, Au Revoir, and Baroque are my current favorites), so I hope y'all enjoy <3

You and Neuvillette have always loved each other, but you both often had doubts on if you'd be together forever. Especially given the fact that your husband is a dragon and you were cursed with immortality. And these doubts weren't because you didn't love each other or because you both didn't think the other person didn't love you. No, the doubts were because you both thought you'd get bored of each other.

You practically knew Neuvillette from inside and out, and you assumed that your husband knew the same about you. If you knew someone that well, you'd probably get tired of them after a while. Especially after being with them for 300 years.

You were cursed with immortality 100 years before you met your equally immortal lover, at the lovely age of 20. It wasn't because you did something wrong like break a contract, or even sell your soul to a witch and they gave you immortality. You were cursed because your homegrown garden had grown over to your neighbor's side of the fence.

Your neighbor happened to be a mage, or wizard, or whatever, and had a tendency to hold grudges. So, they sent you a letter that passed on the curse of immortality to anyone who read it. As soon as you were told this by said mage, wizard, or whatever they were, you burned the note to completion, and you never looked back.

You met Neuvillette when you first moved to Fontaine. You would hear all sorts of rumors about the man at court, and you often found everyone's words to be true. The rumors couldn't be more wrong, because you were confronted by a man that was nothing like what the whispered words said.

Neuvillette treated you as his equal, and when you became closer, a confidant. He never spoke badly about anyone, even the criminals he would sentence to a life in prison. He was always curious about how humans acted, and he couldn't be further from the image that you conjured in your head.

He was kind to anyone or anything he passed by, and even when he was faced with the public in court, he would make the trials as fair as he could. He never wanted to declare someone guilty unless he really believed they deserved it, and he was always consistent with his judgments. It did not matter how much he loved you, because if you ever did something that was against the law, he would make his conclusions based on facts. Never on emotions.

And as you saw the way he grew before your eyes, you couldn't help but feel entranced. Every time he spoke to you, you always wondered if he felt the exact same. He never alluded to his feelings for anyone unless he said how he felt, which wasn't often. You didn't notice your love for him until he finally spoke to you about his feelings.

"Dear, I do not know how to confess this to you, but I was told by the Melusines that my feelings for you were known as 'love'. Do you, perhaps, 'love' me as well?"

To say that you were shocked was an understatement. Regardless, you both explored the meaning of "love" with one another, and you both fell hard. Neuvillette couldn't be away from you for even a second, and he always whispered his desires to protect and love you forever in his sleep. You couldn't help but share the sentiment with him.

Now, the only things that had changed were Neuvillette's clinginess, and he seemed more sure and determined to make Fontaine a better place. For you, you finally stopped getting distracted at the thought of coming home to your husband and spending every waking second with him, and you decided that finding new hobbies to try wouldn't hurt you. Despite the changes, you both were still in love with each other. It was just more subtle, and not as needy.

Neuvillette was busy studying cases from the last couple of years, so you took it upon yourself to make a list of things you needed to buy from the market. You made a list of what to get, and you were on your merry way to the center of Fontaine.

When you finally arrived, you noticed all of the things that they had exclusively had at the markets. They had mini sculptures of the Hydro Archon, Furina, who you knew well. There were other knick knacks across the tables as well, but you only bought the things you intended to.

That was until you came across the cutest thing: a mini dragon sculpture. It was a beautiful sea blue, and it looked very similar to your husband's dragon form. You immediately picked it up and bought it. You quickly made your way back home and swiftly found the appropriate materials to wrap the tiny dragon in. You intended to gift it to Neuvillette as soon as he got home, and knowing him, he'd probably love anything you gave him.

You patiently waited for him to get home, and he did not disappoint you. As he walked through the door, undressing himself from his court robes, you stood in front of him with your gift waiting in your hands. He turned to give you a small smile as he leaned down to softly kiss you. As he pulled away, he noticed your hands moving the object in your hands impatiently, and he continued to smile at your antics.

You practically shoved the gift into his chest when he finally gestured for the item. He looked to you for guidance, and you only nodded, gesturing that he unwrapped your gift. He did so, and his smile turned into confusion. You laughed before giving him an explanation.

"I saw this at the market today... It reminded me of you." Neuvillette's eyes softened as he pulled you into his chest. You inhaled his scent and pulled him into you for a while longer. You both gladly stood there with one another, and you only broke apart when your husband had to continue getting changed.

And as you retired for the night, you felt a sense of calm wash over you both. When it didn't seem to go away, you spoke up.

"Neuvi, do you ever wonder if we'll drift apart?" You asked out of curiosity, but you regretted it when you heard his response.

"Well, of course I wonder. It is hard not to think about things like that." Even though you've always felt the same, you felt your heart crack the tiniest bit. It was one thing to assume that your partner felt that way, but it was another to actually hear them say it. But what happened next didn't surprise you in the least.

"But, if we've been with each other for this long, it seems that fate has destined us to be together for as long as possible." This eased your heart and it pulled you back into reality. Every couple, no matter how long they've been together, has thought about the possibility of breaking off, and it shouldn't be different for you both. You leaned back against the headboard as your husband leaned his head on top of yours. You stayed like that for a while, and without any warning, you kissed Neuvillette on the lips gently. He smiled.

"Well, I guess you are right. Even when we should be bored of each other, we're always together. You are the love of my life, and I'm glad I had a chance to meet you." You smiled up at the man in front of you, trying not to completely fall apart in tears. The long haired man nudged his forehead against yours, causing you to look into his eyes with the same intensity as his.

"I am glad that I make you as happy as you make me. Let us always be here. Let us continue to be here in this moment, in this decade, in this century, and hopefully for eternity. I love you so." You couldn't hold back anymore tears as you hid yourself in Neuvillette's chest. He stroked your hair as you continued to cry your eyes out in his (now) soiled night shirt.

When you finally managed to lift your eyes from your husband's chest, you heard the calmest noise ever. The one thing that could lull you to sleep if you weren't with Neuvillette:

Rain.

It was raining outside, and despite how calming it was, you knew what it really meant. You gazed up at your lover's face, but his eyes never looked sad or upset. He looked calm, and you could see a flicker of happiness beneath the sea of his dark blue eyes. You concluded that these were his happy tears, showing you every part of his love for you.

And you would get to experience every ounce of his love for the rest of your days.

*Bonus*

Neuvillette arrives at the Palais Mermonia with a small smile on his face, and the Melusines take notice.

Sedene (Melusine): "What are you smiling about~"

Neuvillette: "I don't know if I should tell you."

Sedene: "Come on! It's rare for anyone other than the Melusines to see you smile!"

Neuvillette lets out a relaxing sigh, turning to the Melusine.

Neuvillette: "I didn't think that I would feel this happy since I confessed my love to my partner, but I have been proven wrong."

He sighs once more before giving into Sedene's demands.

Neuvillette: "I am smiling because my lover for eternity has told me that they loved me, and that they are glad to have met me."

Before the curious Melusine could question Neuvillette more, he walked into his office, feeling the weight of the world fall off his shoulders. He would continue to fall in love with you over and over again, until fate had decided to take you both away.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

[merbear25]

Hi!

I hope you aren't too busy, because I've got a request:

A female reader in a caregiver role comforts Caesar after he has been in an abusive relationship. Reader tends to his wounds, gives him massages (perhaps sensual) and promises to give him what he wants, so he doesn't have to be constantly bullied anymore. Even if it means there is a danger that he will cause chaos again, or harm the reader, the reader geniuenly feels bad for him and wants to do anything to make him happy.

Basically, hurt/comfort, heavy on the comfort.

Omfg this was sent in November. I know it took literal months to answer this but if you're still here anon, I hope you like it!

A balm to soothe the pain (Caesar)

CW: suggestive, fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff and pampering, light praising, massage (borderline sensual), alluding to abuse

A rarity was unfolding before your eyes—the display of a man who had perfected the wolf in sheep’s clothing was shedding his skin away. In the dark corner of the room, he hid his tears from anyone wishing to take advantage of his vulnerability. Only the cold unfeeling walls would know the depth of his emotions, and that was something he’d come to terms with long ago.

For a moment you stood there in bewilderment, your mind having a difficult time comprehending what you were witnessing. You weren’t sure if it’d be best to just leave him to cry out whatever was ailing him. However, you couldn’t ignore the pagne your heart shared for him with each sob traveling to you. Although you were far from what he would consider a friend, the term colleague held warmth in its own right, and with that sense of light to guide you, you took a step closer.

A loose tile shifted beneath your foot. Wincing slightly at the faint scraping of the old flooring, your eyes lifted from the granet to the large form that was now much stiller. “Caesar?” You called out with concern carefully wrapping around his name. “Are you okay?” The second question carried past your lips even more delicately.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” He didn’t turn towards you, nor did he allow his voice to bear the true state he was in—no crack or swolleness. Not knowing much you had seen, he was gambling on you taking his word and scurrying off to leave him in much needed peace.

“Well,” you proceeded with caution, “I heard you… and I just thought I’d ask if you needed anything: something of comfort, someone to talk to—” The hope you held in extending a helping hand to someone you truly admired was pushed onto the stand for his judgment to decide your fate.

His ungloved hands gripped the steel arms of the rickety chair. Unable to take the full force of his despair transferring to it, the metal rattled and threatened to buckle when he used them as his full support. Any other aid you wished to offer him was cut short. As the light from the hallway illuminated his form rising from the seat, the gulp you took was involuntary. Even with him still refusing to face you, you felt his cold cautionary yellow eyes burrowing into your soul. His hair looked slightly knotted, almost as if it had been tangled in the wind or from physical exertion, casting the tender hearted soul who came to do a good deed to await the verdict.

The silence as he stood to full height wrapped around you in its unwelcoming chill. Even if he couldn’t see you, the rising of your hair on the back of your neck and the goosebumps anticipating his response were just as visible as if you were standing directly in front of his face.

“How presumptuous to think I’d seek solace in you.” He finally sliced through the quiet room. His words failed to hold the extent of malice they usually have, instead the events of that day and each one prior alluding to an exhausted soul.

Your ears tuned into that yearning for an escape, even with it being buried deep beneath the surface. “Not my intention to assume you would. Just so happened to have found you when you might need…” You trailed off, not sure what exactly he needed so much as what you could even offer him.

He turned his head slightly, though his face remained out of sight. “Go on. Tell me what you think I need.”

The beats from your quickening heart were pounding in your ears so loudly you worried they were audible to him as well. “Someone to lean on without any strings attached, for starters.” He didn’t respond, but he didn’t ice you out either, so you took it as permission to continue. “No fine print or expectation of something in return.” 

You knew him well enough to know that he viewed relationships as transactional. No one ever went to him - nor him to others - without wanting something for their time. His mind raced through all the interactions he had with you, trying desperately to recall at least one instance he could use against you, one that would prove to him that you weren’t offering this out of the kindness of your heart. A loud click of his tongue and snarl at the lack of ammunition if things went south left an already vulnerable man even more exposed to the elements. 

He suddenly turned his face to the wall in front of him, staring at the divots of wear and tear that reflected his very own. Cold, hard, and physical trauma worn with anything less than pride: the surface was merely that; nothing below it could be easily chipped away at. Frowning at the cement, he exhaled in grievance.

When he finally shuffled his weight and turned to you, the sight of his smudged eye makeup and discoloration on his neck stirred a reaction in the pit of your stomach. Seeing someone who committed atrocities covered with bruises and bearing a fragile heart would have brought on a sense of justice to anyone else in your position - like all was right in the world because he got what was coming to him - but you couldn’t make yourself think like that. Not in a million years.

There was a cautious trust in his eyes, on edge from the half expectancy of you turning your back on your own word. You didn’t though, instead offering him a soft smile that made his frown more prominent and his heart beat at an uncomfortable pace. His hands clenched into fists out of the fear of betrayal which would be looming over you the rest of the time you spent with him. Not a stranger to the thunderous clouds, you waved them away when they got too thick.

After offering to take him somewhere more comfortable, he hesitantly followed you out of the mouth of the storm and into the brightly lit hall. When you stopped in front of your room, he began questioning your intentions once again.

“All the nice products are in my room,” you said in your defence.

Products? What on earth would you need those for? After you disappeared into your bedroom, he stood outside the door grumbling to himself. Looking back from where you both came, he had half a mind to abandon this idea. A strange woman who wanted to put gods knew what on him and for what? To just be kind? He nibbled his bottom lip and his fingers twitched while he sat on the fence about this whole ordeal.

“Aren’t you coming in?” You poked your little head out and gave him a fright. 

Looking down at you, he couldn’t decide if he hated or loved the fact that your eyes didn’t have an ounce of deception behind them. The new territory of this relationship with you was uncharted much with all the others he had ties to. However troublesome it was, his legs carried him over the threshold.

“Take a seat on this.” You pulled up a cushiony pillow to the side of the bed. Side eyeing you, he muttered something under his breath in irritation at your increasingly peculiar ideas.

What would have been a loud sound of him hitting the floor was softened by the pillow. His irked expression loosened its grip on his facial muscles as he made himself more comfortable—enjoying the feel of it quietly to himself. He froze when you pounced on the bed behind him, though. The jump he made when you started playing with his hair startled you just as much. “What are you doing? Why are you touching me all of the sudden?” He snarled at you like a dog backed into the corner and ready to snap.

Raising the hairbrush to prove that your actions didn’t falter from innocence, you did your best to calm the rising tensions. “I’m sorry! I just saw how tangled your hair was and thought I’d help you brush them out.” You pulled out some detangling spray in hopes of sweetening the deal. “I was going to use this to help lessen the pull on your scalp.”

The glare he threw at you quickly turned into a huff. “Fine. But give me a damn warning next time! And don’t expect me to start pouring my heart and soul out to you!” 

“You can tell me as little or as much as you want.” The lack of confrontation in your response had a bizarre cooling agent on him.

Folding his arms and leaned against the side of the bed and wondered if this would all be worth it; admittedly, he wasn’t even sure what ‘it’ was referring to.

Your soft hum was shortly followed by the sound of detangler being sprayed on his raven hair. The scent was slightly sweet. Closing his eyes when you began gingerly brushing his long locks, he attempted to work out what scent that was. It had a hint of a baked good but wasn’t overpowering, and the faint earthiness to it had a relaxing effect on him. As the strokes of the brush lengthened from the lack of resistance in the matted mess, the sigh he let out was of contentment—a rarity for him these days.

“What kind of spray is that?” His eyes were still closed, allowing himself to enjoy this simple pleasure.

“Maple leaf. Do you like it?” Your soft tone pairing with the gentle touches and nice smell made his breaths deepen and steady. He gave an approving noise to your question, making your smile become its own source of warmth. “Would you like me to braid your hair?”

His eyes fluttered open and he cocked a smile in amusement. “If you must.” There was a light-hearted, nearly playful tone to his voice, one which you were sure you hadn’t heard from him before.

Elegantly, your fingers danced through his freshly brushed hair. Folding each section of it over and under another was done with the utmost care. As you finished, your eyes drifted to his shoulders. The rigidness in his posture had subsided, giving you reason to relax a bit more yourself. With the newly exposed skin of his neck and shoulders being caught under your roaming eyes, your heart sank at the sight of bruising: ranges of yellow to purple decorated his pale skin.

“Finished?” He asked somewhat excitedly. You offered him a mirror, although you hoped the bruising being visible didn’t ruin his newly formed good mood entirely. When he held it up, you got to see the front of it for the first time too. You had to admit that his choppy bangs made the hairstyle look even cuter.

“Here, let me get another mirror so you can see the back.” You held it up and angled it, loving the smile spreading on his otherwise tired face. The laugh passing his lips coaxed out your own. “You look so elegant now, ready to be taken to the ball.”

He cackled. “You think so?” Framing his face with a flattering hand pose, he made flirtatious faces at himself in the mirror. However, the different angles drew his attention away from the good humored jokes to the memories he was so rudely reminded of. You barely had a glimpse of his smile twisting into displeasure before he tossed the mirror on the carpet. His chest heaved and his breathing grew labored from the emotions flaring within him. “Take it out,” he demanded, albeit regrettably.

You didn’t argue. It wasn’t something worth fighting over, so you took it out as requested. Not sure what to say, you simply acted: playing with his hair, lightly massaging his scalp and soft caresses of his ears. He was put into a state of relaxation once again. Shifting your legs, you guided him to lean back onto your lap.

Although he didn’t resist, the grumble in his throat was consistent. Resting on top of your thighs, letting you gently stroke the sides of his face and forehead: his expression softened, letting those wrinkles do the same as he enjoyed the way your hands felt on him. After a minute, he opened his eyes. When his gaze met yours, the difference in your appearances didn’t cause either of you to look away. Yours met him with sincerity that shined through with an affectionate demeanor, while he remained unemotional, skeptical even, with his eyes scanning yours.

Recalling earlier, your question opened an invitation to give him something he may have never really had. “Can I give you a massage?” His cheeks flushed pink from the forwardness in your question.

“I guess that’s okay,” he breathed. His response was shaky as his heart rate rose once more.

“I’ll start off slow.” Your reassurance only made him more nervous. His eyes followed your hands as you reached over to grab what appeared to be oil. Watching you coat your palms with it was causing him to grip the pillow. “Just relax.” A voice as calming as calamine that made him comply earnestly. He nodded at those deceivingly simple words.

The oil was warm and those hands of yours were inviting him to open himself up to something that was completely foreign to him. Remaining mindful of the tender areas, you worked his neck and shoulders first. Witnessing his eyes rolling back and fluttering shut gave you a sense of value nothing else could provide.

“Let me take care of you.” Your whisper coaxed a barely audible whine from him. His brow knitted and he pursed his lips in hopes of keeping any moans at bay. “Feel the gentle touch of a woman any time you want… Would you like that?”

“Yes…” He couldn’t stop himself from answering in a hazy moan. His grip on the pillow tightened, and he squirmed a little in his seat to get closer to you. When your hands traveled down and over his chest, the tease of your fingers on the edge of his v-neck left him shuttering.

“You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.” An angelic voice that delivered those words he was praying to hear was making him desperate for more.

“I didn’t?” His eyes opened and held onto yours.

“Of course not. You deserve so much more.” Your gaze deepened and your faces inched closer the more you touched his chest. His racing heart could be easily felt under your hands. You hummed at the way he melted like chocolate to you.

When your hands ventured under the fabric, the moan leaving his lips incentivised you to give him more. Leaning down a little, the gentle caress of your chest against his face couldn’t be helped. With your hands roaming over his pecs and his hot breath bathing your cleavage, there was no denying the satisfaction you got out of feeling up the man you’d been calling Master.

Moving back up his chest slowly, the light pull of his clothing when you left acted as a sad parting gift. Gazing back down at him, you giggle at the blissful blush dusting his face greeting you. Cupping his pink cheeks and stroking them with your thumbs, the gentle sounds of pleasure passing his lips lured you into a possibly risky move.

“I’ll give you everything you could possibly want and need.” You leaned in to press tender kisses on his forehead that trailed up the bridge of his nose. A final peck on the tip left him weak in the knees and craving more of the sweet luxuries you were promising him.

“I’ll hold you to that.” He flashed a sly grin, taking you up on your offer and tethering you to him.

[defectivehero]

cat and mouse

“The thrill of the chase consumes you,” the detective says aloud. There’s no one else in the museum, supposedly, but he can sense the thief’s presence. He tries to think of something else that may lure them into conversation. “It gives you an inflated sense of self.” 

“You forget yourself, detective,” the thief whispers, their breath hot on his ear. The detective can’t help but stiffen, although the thief’s proximity is only for a moment. Sure enough, the thief is soon standing a few meters away. “Trust me, if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.” the thief asserts. The detective can’t exactly take comfort in that statement, for obvious reasons. He supposes the words would mean something if the thief were trustworthy but, unfortunately, they are not. The thief’s beliefs and attitudes are fickle. The detective could be in their favor one moment and on the chopping block the next. No sense in rationalizing that kind of waverance. 

“You’re a thief, not a murderer,” the detective feels the need to say regardless. The thief levels them with an inquisitive gaze for a rather long time. Just when he begins to twitch under the pressure, they look away. 

“Or so they say,” the thief says casually, making an encompassing motion with their hands. The gleam in their eyes speaks to their amusement, but the dark smile on their face is pure malice. 

“You don’t want me dead,” the detective backtracks to the thief’s prior statement. He stares at them, trying to find hints of their thoughts in their posture. Somehow, the thief is a blank slate. There is nothing memorable in their frame or their expression. The detective can’t help but think that they’re practiced at hiding behind a facade. 

“Not just yet,” the thief answers, crossing their arms over their chest. They bring a hand to their chin in evident contemplation. “Might have to ask again in a few weeks.”

“You're going to the Renaissance art gallery,” the detective realizes aloud, shooting the thief a questioning look. For a long moment, the burglar just stares at them in silence. The detective frowns and tries to think of the error in his statement. There will be a gallery in exactly three weeks in this very museum. The thief’s eyes had flitted about the space as they uttered the phrase: “a few weeks.” The detective put two and two together. It was a simple deduction, really. 

“Very clever, detective,” the thief then remarks, falling to a crouching position. They mess with something metallic in their hands. The detective wants to identify what it is, but the object disappears in the blink of an eye. The thief must sense his gaze and they smirk. “You truly are as sharp as they say.”

“Perhaps not,” the detective sighs. His next words slip from his lips with little effort. “You always seem to allude me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” the thief remarks. Before the detective can so much as flinch, there are hands pulling at his collar. To his surprise, when he looks down, he finds that the collar of his coat is folded down. The detective scowls and squints at the thief, who materializes in front of him within a few seconds. Was that really necessary? 

“You have some sort of superpower,” the detective announces instead. The cogs and gears in his mind are beginning to turn- albeit a bit more slowly than he’d like. The thief remains infuriatingly silent. “Enhanced speed... Agility?”

“You’ll get there, eventually,” the thief smiles understandingly, which is a strange expression to witness. Their gaze has yet to move from the detective’s face and it’s starting to throw him off. “I have faith.”

“Coming from you, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.” The detective frowns. 

“I’m offended, dear detective,” the thief chuckles. They procure a golden coin out of seemingly nowhere and spin it on the tip of their finger. The detective becomes so focused on the coin that it takes them a few moments to process what the thief says next. “My faith is the eighth wonder of the world.” The detective lets out a choked laugh, resisting the compelling urge to facepalm. 

“Ah, so you can play along. Good to know... for future reference.” The thief remarks, the mischievous grin on their face only increasing. The detective takes a deep breath. “Well. As fun as this has been, I really must get going.”

The detective doesn’t know what to say, so he settles for remaining quiet. The thief maintains eye contact for a bit, as if searching for something in his expression. The thief then nods and their image phases for the briefest of moments. A hand slips through the detective’s for the briefest of moments. The detective looks down, only to find that he’s now grasping a single rose. The thief’s laugh echoes throughout the halls of the museum. It seems that, in the detective’s distraction, they managed to escape. The detective can’t quite summon the frustration that he should be feeling. 

When he makes it back to his office, the detective places the single rose in a vase on his desk and resolutely pretends not to think about the alluring thief. 

©2023, @defectivehero All Rights Reserved. 

apparently, a performer gives a rose to the person that they dedicate their performance to! [I definitely did not just learn of that through an ace attorney fic]

also, it pissed me off that “waverance” isn’t a word so i made it one. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  grammar is my bitch. 

finally... listening to gimme!gimme!gimme! by abba while writing this was THE MOVE. the!!!!!! move!!!!!

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click here if you’d like to be on/off the tag list!

[rnisa]

Beyond Birthday Headcanons

Hi all, just some little Headcanons. Some are general HCs, other are x reader. As much as I love DN, there are too many empty gaps that just weren't filled, leaving so many questions unanswered. These are personal headcanons, you don't have to like them or agree with any - it's purely for my own enjoyment. NOTHING here is factual.

★BB left Wammy's when he was roughly 18. Up until then, he acted as a big brother figure for most of the children. Many looked at him as such, but he was quickly forgotten any time L was brought into the picture.

★ An obvious one, but A's sui'cide hurt him deeply. I don't think BB ever really liked being at Wammy's in the first place. He stayed as long as he did because it provided him certain comforts such as shelter and access to information, food, etc. Basically, it was just easier, and he stayed until he aged out of it. But he never liked the concept of being raised to succeed L. He hated what it did to A. However, he figured as long as he's there, he mind as well make the most of it - explaining the "taking L to the extreme" thing.

★ To add to the above, A's death was the final tipping point, what made him snap. He saw Wammy's as a sick institution rather than a goal.

★At a young age as a kid, he made comments, alluding to him having the Shinigami eyes. Of course he didn't have a name for what he was experiencing, but he asked about, "those numbers floating over your head". I think many adults passed it off as his imagination, but many of the other children found him creepy. Eventually, he stopped bringing it up once he caught on that it wasn't normal. Pretty sure he figured out what his eyes did when he lost both of his parents. He swore he would never love anyone as much as he loved them.

★ I do believe that BB was wrongfully medicated at some points in his life (given medication for things he didn't have, etc.) not out of malice intentionally, just...wrong diagnosis and negligence.

★ I think BB could have been saved. I am deliberately going against the canon here but, I honestly disagree with the ending that, "he was arrested and got killed by Kira in prison". Maybe it's wishful thinking but I could see L taking pity on him, and at least getting him help, hope for reforming him. Perhaps just as he's making significant process, he gets shanked by Kira, but still...I don't think L would have simply thrown his ass in jail and be done with it. Personally, I think L does feel sorrow over A's sui'cide, and is horrified at what BB became. L blames himself in a way. L wanted to save him.

★ ..Then again B could have just gone, "fuck your help I'd rather be in prison and rot," ...

★ After Wammy's house, we know he ends up in America somehow, and L was searching for him. He can't have been much younger than L. I refuse to believe they never...met? I think they did meet at a certain point, perhaps when they were very very small. B's imitation is based on what he thinks L would have grown as into adulthood - to the extreme, of course.

★ I don't think he was ever the type to harm other or animals as a child, but I do think he had a knack for starting fires and causing general mischief. It was always well thought-out, carefully planned mischief, that was the main cause for worry. He loved watching gruesome slasher and horror films way too young and was very desensitized very early on.

★ Didn't have a really healthy upbringing. I feel that he was close with one of his parents and they did their best but had a multitude of issues and were ultimately unequipped to raise a child. Love isn't enough when you're raising a whole person.

★ I think he could fall in love easily, but he himself thinks he is incapable of loving. He cannot imagine anyone possibly loving him, I think. At least romantically. He has his situation and his grand plan thought out too well and meticulously to really consider it, but I think he would love to flirt (poorly) and toy with people teasingly because he's turned on when people find him disgusting, or off-putting. I think someone reciprocating his advances would throw him off in a really funny way, but he's great at improv so he'll manage. Just a lot of tension building up until something happens.

★ This might sound weird but I can see him (coincidentally and unwillingly) falling for someone who was destined to die shortly after his sui'cide attempt. Oh god that's even worse imagine his heartbreak when he survives/is caught by Naomi and then his S/O dies not too long after. Oof.

★ His love is a bit obsessive but I can't see him...hurting someone he truly loves. Physically.

Feel free to ask for more...but this is long enough? If you agree or disagree with anything feel free to add on!

[mediocre--writing]

They’re just sitting there. On the bleachers. Like a pair of basic chicks gossiping in a teen movie. 

Well, it’s an exact description of what they’re doing. Down to the not-so-mindless chat about the boys they were interested in. 

“I mean--do you see the way his hair like bounces when he runs? It practically defies gravity,”

“Yes, I do see that. And if you mention something about his hair one more time, you’re about to defy gravity until you hit the cement behind the bleachers,”

“Harsh, Nance,” Billy tutted as he leaned against the bleacher behind him, “that was harsh!” 

“B, I was obsessed with the guy for like--almost a year, alright? I know how his hair looks when he runs,”

“I know... it’s just gotten a bit longer recently and there’s like this little piece that always hangs above his eyebrow that he blows away and it’s so--”

“Cute? Adorable? Mind-numbingly attractive?” Nancy deadpanned with a pointed glare at Billy. 

“I was going to say endearing, but I like ‘mind-numbingly attractive’ much better,” He gave a classic smirk at her obvious annoyance but enjoyed the view he had of the track team doing their drills and warm ups. 

“What about you, Mr. Sporty? Why aren’t you trying out right there with him?”

“Me?” Billy asked as if the idea of him exercising was a feat unknown to the world. “Oh, honey, I don't run,”

Nancy scrunched her nose at being called ‘Honey’ but rolled her eyes at his statement. “Well you’ve been chasing Steve for so long, it must’ve slipped my mind,”

“And how are things going with you and the stalker?” Billy shot back with a smug look on his face. 

“He’s not a stalker!” Billy tilted his head towards hers, giving a look of disbelief, “He’s the yearbook photographer, it’s his job to take pictures around school!”

“Oh? So it’s his job to make sure he gets photos of you in every class, multiple times a day? For the yearbook, I’m sure,”

“That’s not--” Billy lifted an eyebrow and Nancy accepted defeat, “Fine,”

“I don't see why you don’t just go for it? Corner him in that creepy dark room and get what you want. I’m sure he’s in there right now waiting for you to slam him into the wall and get it on. It’s even got that nice, red mood lighting--”

Nancy slapped Billy’s leg, as he was above her bleacher and leaning back, but, had she had the chance, she would have whacked the back of his head. 

Billy’s loud, bark-like laugh made Steve’s head turn from where he was standing at the start line on the track and stare for a minute. 

“Miss your little Princess?” another boy, Steve thinks his name is Todd or something, taunts as Steve turns back to the track, rather than admiring the way Billy’s gold hair shines in the sunlight.

“Sure,” Steve says, as he wasn’t really paying attention nor felt any need to listen to Todd-whatever.

“Yeah, well I think that Hargrove’s got his claws in her now,”

Steve actually heard and processed that comment, “What?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed that they’re always together. They follow each other between classes and he drives her home sometimes. I heard from Tommy H, who heard from Carol, who’s seen them eating at Benny’s at least five times by now,” 

“I really don’t care,”

Steve, actually, cared very much. 

He could’ve sworn that Nancy had alluded to liking Byers when she’d finally broken it off with him. Plus, she didn’t seem like the type to like her men especially manly. Especially not someone like Billy Hargrove. And, to the best of his knowledge, Billy Hargrove didn’t particularly care for Nancy’s...kind (you know: women).

“He's looking at youuuuu..” Nancy prodded as she poked at Billy’s jean-clad calf and wiggled her eyebrows towards the field. 

“Can you shut up?” Billy grumbled as if he wasn’t turning bright red out of embarrassment. 

“Ok, Mr. Harrington,” she whispered not-so-subtlety.

Billy leaned forward from where he was leaning and swatted playfully at her shoulder, his face turning even more red and eyes practically bugging out of his head. “I will throw you down these bleachers!”

“Why? You wanna save me and show everyone that you know CPR or some shit so you look all heroic in front of your boyfriend?”

“Nancy Fallulah Wheeler--”

“That’s not my middle name--”

“Well you still refuse to tell me your real middle name,” He accused before going back to his threat, “I swear to God that I will tear you limb from limb and kill you and make it look like an accident,” Billy pointed a finger at her with a glare, but it held no real malice behind it.

“Awww, you’re so in love with him, you’re acting delusional,” Nancy cooed. 

“I’ll tell the stalker that you know he’s been taking your pictures since the school year has began and get all the pictures--no--only the bad pictures, and make them posters, then I will proceed to post them everywhere,” Billy had a bright, teasing smile on his face as he concocted a ‘revenge plan.’ “And I'm sure he has at least one of you sneezing. Or maybe the day when you decided to eat clam chowder and ended up wearing it? Don't try me, Wheeler,”

“Yeah, well, what if I just did this?” Nancy smirked evilly. 

Billy sat up to attention. He knew that smirk. Nothing good ever happened after that smirk. 

Nancy stood up on the bleachers and screamed, at the top of her lungs, “STEVE!!” then dropped down as Billy grabbed her by the waist and yanked her to sit next to him. 

She giggled her little heart out as Billy waved at Steve on the track then whispered his murderous thoughts right in Nancy’s ear. 

Steve, albeit confused, couldn’t help but smile at Billy’s little wave of dismissal and obvious embarrassment. It was kinda cute. 

“Yeah, the princess definitely doesn’t seem to like you anymore, bud,” Todd-whatever felt the need to say. 

“Yeah, that’s not who I’m looking at, but thank you anyway,” Steve gave a mocking smile before the coach’s whistle blew and he took off for his sprint. 

[red-doll-face]

Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

[lesbian-deadpool]

Saving Rosie

Part One of Two: “I’m Not A Spy.”

Rosie Betzer x Reader

Words: 5,768

Warnings: WWII (and everything that comes with that era), Nazis, spy shit, arguing, alludes to execution, sadness... I think that may be it.

Request: No.

Summary: You save the woman you have grown close to over the past few years you have been undercover as a Nazi general, and now you’re going to save her family.

A/N: Me, still broken after watching Jojo Rabbit almost a year and a half ago?? It’s more likely than you think... so, apparently I write Rosie Beltzer fics now lol

Also, just some lil notes. The reader in this is undercover as a male Nazi general, and they’re not actually German in this fic.

EDIT: I accidentally tagged this as a Natasha fic lmao. I fixed it now tho.

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not My GIF)

***

"It's a lovely night for it, huh?"

For what? You weren't 

certain. Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe, it was the clear sky. The deserted streets, perhaps... what loomed in the following days to come.

Or maybe, just maybe. It was the woman by your side.

The woman hummed, a small sweet smile caressing her face.

"One of the better ones we've had in years. Came her strong German accent. A stark difference to yours, considering you no longer had to mask it. Around her, anyway.

Your smile mirrored hers as it brightened.

"It sure is."

"I can't believe it's almost over. And after so long..." she said, while you grunted, sitting down beside her on the small roof over the open attic window. "This unjust war is finally coming to an end."

"Okay, you're starting to sound like my commander now."

Rosie chuckled at your words, moving to softly lean into your side, keeping her head up to continue looking at the bright white stars that littered the midnight blue sky.

"Why do you always insist on meeting up here?" you grumbled, no malice in your voice, "It's a pain in the ass to get up onto the roof, from the outside, y'know?"

"You're a spy, aren't you? Aren't you supposed to be good at this stuff?"

"Oh cheeky," you laughed, lightly slapping the side of her leg, with the back of your hand. Rosie's quiet giggles following your remark, "And I'm an undercover soldier. Those are two very different things."

"Still." She shrugged.

You sat in silence for a small while. Over the few years, you and Rosie had grown close. Meeting up on her rooftop, at the dead of night, where there was no chance of anyone seeing you together, this way, becoming an almost every day occurrence.

You knew you could trust her the moment you first met, almost three years ago. After you had stolen the identity of a Nazi officer, that looked starkly like you. Luckily, there was hardly any information about this person. So, there was less chance for your cover to be blown.

Soon, the resistance that Rosie had been deeply a part of was un-earthed to you, thanks to your informant and the letter she carried. It wasn't long after that you started working with them too. Helping them better than they could ever hope, thanks to the military resources and information you brought.

"What happened to your neck?" Rosie asked, pulling you out from where you were, deep in your memories.

A hand came up to rub at your slightly sore skin.

"My informant can be cruel..."

Rosie cocked a blonde eyebrow at you, wanting an explanation from you.

You sighed, getting ready to tell her.

***

Eyes burned into the woman from all sides as her heels kicked against the polished wooden, yet stained, floor. Her light brown hair shone under the glowing lights, confidence radiating from her just the same.

"Can I help you?" a German Soldier slid in front of her, she had to stop herself from sneering at the man. For both his being a Nazi and his sweaty stench. But instead, she managed a sultry smirk.

"I'm here to see your General," she replied, in a German accent.

"Don't bother," another Soldier, this one drunk and slightly swaying, called over, from where he was pressed into the wall a few feet behind her.

"I don't think your General would take too kindly to you stealing what they paid for."

"They're gonna have fun with you," he replied, blatantly looking her up and down. Like a wolf would, to a tiny bunny, ready to devour it whole. However, the wolf was not a wolf at all, the wolf was, in fact, the bunny, and the bunny was the actual wolf.

She would tear him to shreds, given the chance.

"The General is in the usual room," the original man said, "Fair warning, though. They're not in a good mood today."

The woman began strutting down the hallway, once again. Throwing, "Aren't they always?" over her shoulder once she passed him by.

When she opened the thick wooden door you resided behind, the sounds of your continued groan began pouring through the crack.

"Sometimes I cannot believe that you got this assignment," she uttered in her original London accent, with her back pressed against the now-closed door.

You finished your groan off and took a deep breath before you uttered your reply.

"Luck-of-the-draw, I guess," you spoke from the floor where you lay on your back, with a shrug, "That, or I look strikingly alike the guy who died. The Nazi prick."

She walked over to you, one foot rising to press her heel into your neck, your thyroid resting in the open space of the shoe.

A choking noise sprang from your mouth as you flailed your limbs around gently. You knew that if she were to press any harder, she would surely manage to choke you.

"You're not suited for this job."

The brunette pressed harder against your throat before she released you. Leaving you to turn on your side, coughing and spluttering.

"Well, no shit. I'm a soldier, not a spy."

"You can tell."

"What was that all about?" You motioned to your neck. Red marks already making their way upon the tender flesh.

"We need to make it seem like we are having sex. Remember? I am supposed to be your hooker after all."

"You're a bitch, is what you are."

She scowled at you as you rolled yourself onto your stomach, sighing when you finally got to your feet.

"Where's the update?"

You hummed, almost as if you were remembering what you were here to do. Removing the crystal tumbler from your lips the whisky sloshing around inside. Reaching behind you, you pulled the file from where it was tucked into your pants and under your shirt. Handing it over to her.

"Is this it?" She asked, weighing the file in her hand, "It's very light."

"Yeah, and so's the information swimming around. Unless you wanna hear about the fish Agatha caught last weekend," you snarked back, moving to point at the file with the same hand that held your glass, "There's some good stuff in there. It's not much. But it's good."

"I'll take your word for it."

She tucked the folder into the long overcoat she wore, then you saw her eyebrows furrow.

"Aren't you supposed to take care of that?" She nodded towards the uniform jacket you had thrown across the room not long after you had entered it.

"You sneered at the fore-talked about item.

"I hate it and everything it stands for." You turned back to face her. "As soon as all of this bullshit is over, I'm burning that fucking armband. And then the rest of the fucking uniform."

"Real calm there, aren't you?"

"Don't start shit with me, Hannah." You took a large swig of your drink, almost emptying the glass. "I know that you wish you had somehow gotten this mission. But trust me, you don't fucking want it. The shit I've seen and done. The stuff that I've had to authorise, just to keep my cover. The fucking horror storied these monsters have told proudly, or as if they're fucking jokes." You were panting now. "You don't want that."

You had her startled into silence. Hannah had never expected this to come from you.

"How's the resistance?"

You grunted. Downing the rest of the brown liquor before moving to pour yourself another glass three fingers tall.

"It's going." you gave a heavy nod. "Still trying to spread the word."

Hannah hummed, slowly making her way towards you. Fingers coming up to razzle her hair, and wipe her lipstick, so it smudged onto her cheek.

"How's the blonde?"

"What-?" you were cut off when she wiped the red lipstick on her fingers across your own lips, leaving a smudge like hers there. "Ugh," you groaned, moving away from her palm, only to utter small obscenities and sounds of pain when her lipstick freehand messed up your short, slicked-back hair.

"What blonde?" you finally managed to ask.

"The one from the resistance. What's her name?" She clicked her fingers together, in realisation, "Rosie."

"Oh! Yeah, she's fine, and so are the kids."

"You seem to be taking a shine to her, from what I hear from the resistance. You and Rosie seem to be something of a dynamic duo."

Suddenly your shirt was ripped open, from the collar to your ribs. Making your eyes widen in shock.

However, you were used to this by now, so they soon returned back to their regular size.

"Yeah, we're friends."

Hannah hummed, something akin to a knowing smirk on her face. As she untucked your shirt.

"I'd keep an eye on her, though."

She opened your pants.

"She's being watched."

Breathless at what she just said, you stood stock still, watching as she walked towards the wooden door.

"Oh." Hannah stopped, her hand upon the handle, pulling some pieces of paper from her pocket and threw them to the floor, "I'll leave you to deliver the bad news."

And with that, she left.

***

You forewent telling Rosie everything from the mention of her.

Thinking it the best if she heard it differently.

"That really sounds like a spy meeting to me," Rosie said with a smirk, knowing it would annoy you to no end.

You closed your eyes before you could roll them into the back of your head. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled, "I'm not a spy."

"So, you've said," she giggled.

"You're drunk," you mumbled to yourself.

"What was that?"

"How are the kids?" you asked, clearly watching as Rosie groaned lightly. Her head down-turned, almost sad looking.

"Jojo's still obsessed with Hitler and everything. And Elsa's doing her best. But I can tell how much this is affecting her. And in what world wouldn't it?"

"She's strong." You nodded. "She'll get through it. We all will."

"And what about Jojo?"

Rosie turned to face you, hair swaying as she did. You could see the glazed look in her eye's, telling yourself to be extra vigilant with the woman upon the roof. You had to make sure she didn't fall off in her drunken state.

"Is he going to be like this for the rest of his life?"

Tears were building in her eyes now.

"Supporting evil dictators, wanting to take over the world, and fill it with hate?"

"No. No, of course not," you whispered. Reaching over, you clasped her cheeks between your rough, war-hardened hands. Wiping away her silent tears. "He's just a boy. A boy who wants to be a part of something, even if he doesn't understand what that is. What monster's he's following. He will realise one day. Trust me."

"I trust you." She nodded. "It just. It's hard. It's so hard. Especially when he plays up, like he did at dinner today."

"He did?"

She hummed with a nod.

"We're low on food right now. I had to go without to feed Elsa. But Jojo, he didn't know, obviously, so he took that too. Then he started arguing about his father-"

You inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing. But luckily for you, she didn't notice your reaction.

"-I yelled at him... we made up not long after, but I still feel awful about it. I'm a terrible mother."

"No, you're not-"

"I am-"

"No. You're not," you said firmly. Grabbing her forearm, gently moving it side to side, to get your point further across, "You're such a caring and amazing person. Your heart is so big and kind. And you're an even better mother. It's like all of that is doubled for those kids."

"Thank you," Rosie whispered, tears in her eyes once again, before she moved to wipe them away.

"Anyway, you're way better than my mother. She abandoned me at a farm. I was lucky a cow didn't shit on me."

She giggled at your little joke.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"There's no need. I wouldn't change it."

Things were quiet for a few minutes when you suddenly remembered.

"Oh!" You reached into your pocket and pulled out three packages, wrapped in brown paper and tied together with string. "I guess it was just lucky that I brought these then."

"What are they?"

"Beef sandwiches, I thought you would like them."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver," she spoke in something close to a moan as she took a bite out of her sandwich.

You gave a small chuckle at the woman seated beside you, "I'd thought you'd say that. I'll have to start bringing food over to these meetings of ours because it's not like I can do it out in the open."

"People would think something was going on between us," Rosie hummed.

"You're right about that. Everyone is so bored around here. Gossip is like their life sauce."

"Would you be surprised if I told you that it was the same before the war?"

"Not at all," you laughed.

Rosie finished her sandwich, and you dreaded what was coming next.

"I need to tell you something," you almost whispered.

She bumped her shoulder against yours when you didn't continue.

"Well? What is it?"

"It... it's about your husband..."

You watched her carefully as you said that, all the while emotions, flew into her while she processed them.

She held back more tears, ones from the look on her face that she had shed more times than she could count. Face contoured into one of concealed pain. Looking away from your gentle, caring eyes while rubbing her hands together.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid so." You nodded, looking out before you, into the starry night sky.

That's when you felt a tiny jolt beside you. Looking over at the blonde, you watched as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered.

With a gasp and a wet sniff, Rosie wiped her tears away.

"What happened?"

"There was a raid, some members of a resistance was there, your husband included. None of them made it... they saved the people they intended to, however."

She nodded with a sad yet proud smile.

"How long ago was this?"

You swallowed. Hating the words you were about to say.

"A little over a year ago."

You winced when you heard her sobs, ones being held in so hard just so no one could overhear her cries.

And, sickeningly so, the worst thing of all was that you didn't know how to help her.

Placing a hand upon her back, rubbing small comforting circles into her shoulder. Feeling her lean into you, face now pushed into your neck.

"I'm here. Everything's going to be alright."

You left not too long later, after already spending way too much time up on that roof.

Rosie wished you a "goodbye" with the promise that she would be fine. However, she didn't reply to you when you told her not to finish the rest of the wine. That she had been pounding for the majority of the day.

Before you arrived "home" and promptly collapsed onto the bed.

***

The afternoon sun was warm upon your face as you walked the streets of the German town. Watching as children ran around, women worked, and well, gossiped, and Nazi soldiers came and went.

Soon. You thought. This will all be over soon.

That's when you heard the murmured words from the women you had just walked past.

"Yes, the Gestapo. They're here right now."

"Who for?" the other woman asked, voice slightly higher at the aspect of such "juicy" gossip.

Sometimes it surprised you just how detached some of these people were from human lives. But then you took a step back and saw everything that was happening in the world. And you weren't surprised anymore. Just disappointed.

"The traitors wife. Beltzer."

And now you were scared.

"-They should be taking her to the square, right now."

It was like the world had slowed down as you turned to look at them, meeting their curious eyes.

The last thing you heard before taking off at a run towards the town square was a fading, "Like husband, like wife. I guess."

The people you passed by looked at you like you were insane. To see a, what they thought, General, sprinting down streets and panting like crazy, it set them on edge.

But you didn't give a damn about what anybody thought.

You just had to get to the square.

And quick.

***

By the time you got there, you had a light shine over your skin. Thanks to the sweat from both the running you had done and the worry that coursed through you.

"Remove your hands from her," came your faux German accent.

"She is a traitor to the Reich," one of the Gestapo's, seemingly the leader, replied assuredly.

"And what proof do you have of this?"

Rosie was terrified. You could see that as clear as day, no matter how she tried to keep calm. It was written all over her face.

So, you forcefully pushed their hands from the heavily breathing woman and pulling her to stand by your side and away from the group of men dressed in black suits.

"I'll have you know, we have very probable tips from some of the community-"

""Probable"?!" you shouted, causing the on edge woman beside you to jump slightly. To which you pulled her closer to you as a form of comfort. Your hand, coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Yes. Probable. We cannot have risks."

"Well, I say that it is bullshit."

"You have no jurisdiction or authority over our department."

"And I never said I did. I am saying that I vouch for this woman."

"But the tip-off's-" another man began.

"You choose to believe lonely and bored housewives over a General?!" You watched as their faces fell, and they tried to grab onto any straw they could to change your mind.

"There is still a chance-"

"There is no chance!"

"And can you be so sure?!"

"Do you really believe that I, a General, would be with her if you were right?"

"With her?" a third Gestapo asked curiously.

You knew what you had to do to get her back home, safe and away from the men trying to execute and make a spectacle of her. Just like the poor people hanging to your right.

"It means that I have been seeing her. Romantically, if you still do not fully understand, what I mean."

They didn't say anything for a few short moments, only stumbling and stuttering over their own voices.

"So, tell me. Who are you choosing to believe?"

"Uh. Y-You General."

"Good." You nodded once. "Now, I'm going to take her home. Goodbye, gentlemen," you spat. Turning on your heel, with Rosie under your arm, and walking away.

"Are you okay?" you whispered. Not drawing any attention to yourself or Rosie.

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me," she replied in the same way.

"I wouldn't have done anything else." Your hand slipped down to the blondes dip in her lower back, helping to guide her back home. "Where are the flyers? Did you have any on you?"

"Yes. I threw them down the drain before they could see."

"Good. You did good." A squeeze to her hip before your hand returned to her lower back, just to keep up the appearance of the lie. "They're not gonna find them."

***

Rosie had relaxed more by the time you were at the bottom of her street when you saw a distinctly expensive car parked outside of Rosie's house. A car that everyone knows belongs to that of Gestapo's.

"Is Jojo home?" you asked, just stood there starring at the sight, with Rosie by your side.

"Yes," she husked.

"Shit."

And that's when you both broke out in a run.

You, being faster than Rosie, arrived at the building first. Barging through the door, with her hot on your heels.

Pounding your way up the stairs, only to come face to face with a gang of men, identically dressed to the Gestapo's, you had just saved Rosie from. Along with Jojo and Elsa, in clothes that didn't look like they belonged to her. Not to mention the demoted soldier, holding an identification book.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

"What are you doing in my house?!" you and Rosie said at the same time. Your yell angrier, compared to her more so worried one.

"We are searching the premises," the lead man, who wore round glasses, spoke. Face confused as to why Rosie was still alive. But as soon as he saw the anger chiselled upon your face. He could take a successful guess as to who had stopped the execution.

"Mama, they were just checking Inge's identification," Jojo said as his mother rushed towards him. Her hands, on his cheeks, as she checked him over.

"Oh, yes. Of course." Rosie pulled Jojo along to bring Elsa into her side, just as you had done for her mere minutes ago. "Are you both alright?"

She gained words and nods of confirmation from the two children.

"I think it's time that you all left."

"But-" one Gestapo said, looking to Rosie.

"But nothing," you continued, "I'm sure your associates will fill you in on their mistake. Now, if you are finished, I ask that you leave this house."

"We were just about to, anyway," the leader said, leading the way out for everyone. But not before the ID was handed back to the assumed Inge. With you trailing after, to slam the door behind them.

You turned, leaning your back against the wooden door, sighing deeply.

"Are they gone?" Rosie called down, leaning over the railing, to peer down at you.

The stairs creaked below you, the layer of carpet doing nothing to quiet them. You spoke your confirmation, as you reached her, "They're gone."

The kids looked like they had just been caught with their hand's in the cookie jar.

"So..." the caring woman started, "You two know about each other."

They nodded.

"For how long?"

"A couple of weeks, at most," Jojo said.

"How did you even find out about her?"

"I-I found the hatch-"

"He crawled in-"

"And I found her-"

"He was terrified."

"Was not!"

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Okay, enough," Rosie raised her voice, gaining the bickering children's attention.

Taking a breath, she ran her hands through her soft blonde hair.

"And you never told anyone?"

"No." Jojo shook his head. "I didn't want you to get into trouble..." It was at that point, he realised you were silently stood behind his mother, watching as everything unfolded and who you were.

Rosie caught this and looked over her shoulder at you.

"Don't worry," she told both of the kids, crouching down before them. Elsa's face one of mild terror.

This is when it hit you that these kids were exactly that.

Kids.

Kid's that were too scared of their mothers, or motherly figure, scolding them, than the actual, apparent danger that lurked not too far away.

"They're not going to tell anybody. They know. And won't let anything happen. To any of us." she manoeuvred to face you. "Right?"

You nodded. "Absolutely. I will do my best to protect all of you."

"Speaking of." She slowly rose to her feet, walking towards you.

The hand that Rosie placed upon your arm was gentle, almost like she was worried she would hurt you. Fingers curling into the jacket of the uniform you loathed.

"I have to speak with the General. So, you two stay up here. Understood?"

They nodded.

"Good." She pulled you through the open door, but before she could close it fully, her head popped through the door, "Oh. And we're not done yet. We still have a lot to talk about."

Then the door clicked shut.

"You're really good at that."

"What?"

"Being a mother."

"I know. You've told me before."

***

Things had changed rather quickly when you arrived downstairs.

Sat upon the blue cotton cushions of the wooden framed couch. Watching as Rosie paced around in front of you, fingertips rubbing against her full lips, worry etched across her face.

Your eyebrows shot up, and your body straightened when she turned to face you. Arms now down by her sides.

"So, we're together, huh?"

"I'm sorry," you replied, German accent dropped, "But that was the only thing that would get them to back off and drop the suspicions against you."

"I know." She nodded, completely understanding. Before her minimal composure dropped, and the worry came back. "What do we do? Jojo obviously thinks you are a traitor now. What if he tells someone?"

"He won't." You stood abruptly, taking Rosie's shoulder's into your hands, squeezing them gently. "He didn't tell anyone about Elsa when he had so many chances to do so. Hell, he had the chance, not even five minutes ago. But he hasn't said a word, purely just to keep you safe... he doesn't understand that this could hurt him and Elsa too. He doesn't know what's happening."

"But this is different-"

"Yes, it is different. It's better he thinks I'm a traitor, helping his family, than him knowing I'm an undercover soldier."

"You mean a spy?"

"Don't you start with that shit." You pointed at her playfully.

Rosie's smile dropped when a thought popped into her mind.

"Do you think they will still come back?"

"It is possible," you said honestly, "Which is why we should leave as soon as we possibly can."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere that isn't here."

"What do I tell the kids- What do I tell Jojo?" she clarified.

"The truth. You tell them that they could come back and that we all need to leave because we could all be in danger."

With her head in her hand's, the blonde scoffed tearily, "God. This fucking war."

"I know. I know."

You pulled her into your chest, letting her cry into you. Arms wound around your torso tightly.

"I hate it, For so many reasons."

"I know," you repeated again, "I feel the same."

"When will it just end? When will people be safe again?"

Deciding that it would be best to tell her the truth, you said, "I don't know. Soon I hope."

And there you sat, for a small while longer, allowing the blonde to cry into your chest.

***

You had left.

Gone to go gather some of your things, thinking it best to stay with Rosie and the kids while you were forced to stay in town.

All the while Rosie, spoke to the kids about leaving.

"I don't understand why we have to go!"

Was what you were greeted with as you entered the home.

"Because it is not safe for us here anymore," Rosie's voice came, calm but firm.

"But they won't come back."

"That's not entirely true," you spoke, entering the kitchen. Placing the leather bag you carried and the wicker basket upon the small table against the wall, you continued, "There's always a chance, no matter how small."

The young boy watched you silently for a minute. Not knowing what to say.

"Trust me, Jojo. I know how all of this works. I just want to keep you all safe, so does your mother. And this is the best way to do it.2

Jojo sighed.

"Where will we go?"

Rosie looked at you intently when her son asked this, wondering the same thing.

"We'll get out of town first. Then we'll focus on a safe place for us all to go."

"Jojo, would you. Would you go to your room, please?" Rosie asked, "I need to speak with the General, alone."

Just as the blonde boy was about to protest, he was cut off.

"Now. I also have to start preparing dinner."

He huffed and walked from the room, bounding up the stairs rather loudly.

You felt bad for the woman as you watched her grip the sides of the oven, bow her head, and give a great sigh.

"Where's Elsa?"

"She's in her hiding spot." Then she turned to face you. "Y/N, K know that Elsa isn't Inge."

"What?"

"She got Inge's birthday wrong, and he didn't say anything."

Your eye's wandered as you took in the information that was just given to you.

"Do you think he will say anything?"

"I don't know," you said with a shrug, "But I don't wanna take any chances. It's too risky."

"I agree." Rosie nodded once. "So, when do we leave."

"As soon as possible. Tonight if we can. Only pack the essentials. And not yet, we can't raise any suspicions."

Rosie's only reply and indication that she had heard you were a good few nods.

And then.

"What's in the basket?"

"Oh," you said chipperly, "Don't worry about cooking. I brought dinner."

***

Turns out "tonight" wasn't a viable option for skipping town, as with loud, almost deafening sirens of dread filled the sky came the air-raid strike.

"Wouldn't it give us a good cover, though?" Rosie had asked, preparing for bed.

You had resigned yourself to staying over, as a sort of bodyguard, while still in town. And the threat was still very much weighing in the winds.

You looked over your shoulder at her. Being spotted by her through the mirror of her vanity, where she sat. Removing her makeup and then applying some face cream.

"I'm not the only one by a window," you told her. Then moved to peer through the window, at the moving lights in the black, midnight sky. "I'm sure I heard Elsa and Jojo in the attic watching them."

"They are," she confirmed.

"See. We're not the only ones. Too many eyes. A good distraction," you admitted, "But almost impossible. And with two kids added to that? No chance."

A hum came from Rosie.

"So, what are our options?"

With a sigh, you began explaining, "People will be too jumpy tomorrow, so our best bet would be the day after."

The blonde, now ready for bed, came over to you. Moving to stand right in front of you, looking out the window herself.

"Wouldn't it be too risky, staying here that long?"

It seemed it was your turn to hum, shrugging your shoulders.

"I'd rather stay here a few more days than risk it out there. But there is a good side to these change of plans."

"And what's that?"

"Now, we can sneak stuff to the car. And won't risk being caught doing it all at night. That way, all we have to do is get in, then drive off."

"Good plan. Partner," Rosie spoke in a slight mocking about sultry tone. Which only made you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah. Yeah. You're welcome."

"Seriously," you halted at Rosie's serious tone, raising your head to peer at her, "Thank you for everything."

"You don't have to thank me." Your lips ticked up in a small smile before you lightened the sober mood and atmosphere. "And you definitely won't be thanking me if I accidentally kick you in my sleep."

Rosie laughed at your words, watching as you said into bed beside her.

"Do not worry. If you kick me, I'll just kick you out of the bed."

"Now that's just rude."

Waking up the next morning was strange for you, to say the least.

With the bright sun shining through the thin drapes, across the cosy room, and onto the bed. Duvet lumpy above your forms.

And then there was Rosie.

The blonde pressed up against your side, head resting on your shoulder, arms curled around one of yours, still fast asleep.

Now that.

That was very unusual for you.

But then again. You were too sleepy to process anything at that moment. So instead, you just watched her breathe soothingly, looking so peaceful by your side, with your eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted in curiosity.

It was a wonder how someone could look so contest face asleep like Rosie was, with everything that is going on in the world.

The world wouldn't be that way for much longer, you thought, it was only a matter of time before everything was over.

And the same thing could be said for the blonde sleeping by your side.

The wooden door barged open, alerting you fully awake, as Jojo strutted in. Only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of you. In bed. With his mother.

You could see the slight anger in his eyes, purely out of protection for his beloved mother.

"Good morning, Jojo," Rosie said sleepily as she moved to sit up, looking at the boy with a sleepy smile.

You grunted as she pressed her palm into your abdomen to raise up into a seated position.

"What are they doing here?" he asked, nodding his head towards you.

Rosie looked over her shoulder at you, tired eyes evaluating you. Before she turned back to her son.

"There's something I forgot to tell you yesterday."

You watched the mother and child with slightly wide eyes, not uttering a word, just looking like you wanted to escape this situation.

"What did you forget?"

"The General here-" she patted your abdomen where her hand still resided. "-And I, are seeing each other."

It was a few good long moments as Jojo processed the words. You thought he was going to be angry. It would be natural. You would understand. He was a young boy, one who undoubtedly missed his father and would not be happy with his mother being with anyone else.

But you also had to understand that he idolised you, if only for your -albeit fake- position in the German military.

And yet, you were still surprised and confused by what he said next.

"A lion?"

Rosie smiled brightly, nodding her head, "A lion."

"A lion?"

That was the first thing you said that morning, and it was full of confusion.

But it fell on deaf ears.

Jojo nodded once at his mother before turning on his heel and walking from the room, without saying what he initially came in for.

"What?"

Rosie smiled at you.

"Come on, we should get moving."

The bed shook and bounced as she got up from the bed, preparing to get ready for the day.

"I'm so confused," you almost whimpered, only gaining a soft giggle in return.

***

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess,

SFW Tag list: 

@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,

(I didn’t know if you guys wanted to be tagged in this, but...)

[twstdreams]

I've loved your non-romantic/platonic content that you've done so far! Adding on to that list, could I please request a short story surrounding MC, Ace, and Deuce? An accident occurs which ends in MC turning into a little kid and now it's up to the two boys to put their differences aside and babysit their friend until she's back to normal. Girl pronouns plz! Lol I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue. If you don't feel comfortable with this ask you can skip it! Thx for reading :)

I am always up for platonic content and shenanigans! Long story, so the rest is under the cut!

Warning: Minor spoilers for side stories (briefly alluded to)

Length: ~2.3K

“It’s this one!” Deuce declares with unfounded confidence.

“No, it’s not!” Ace rebuttals despite not making it past page 10 in his textbook.

“It’s mine!” Grimm shouts even though he most definitely does not understand the experiment at hand. 

The magicless student can only sigh. Deuce and Ace suck at potions. So when the two bicker about what to add to their cauldron, the prefect doesn’t even blink an eye. Deuce mispronounces an ingredient, Ace corrects him, but neither are even talking about the right thing. She can practically sense Crewel’s glare despite her eyes remaining on the cauldron, cautiously waiting for bubbles to appear so she could add the indigo milk cap mushroom. 

What is added next to her cauldron is not the mushroom in her hand but a random root Grimm throws in. In Deuce’s haste to catch the gremlin, he spills over his own cauldron and some of their potion spills into hers.

“What are you doing?” she asks, but it’s too late. The mixture in her cauldron is boiling profusely and suddenly envelopes her in a cloud of smoke.

“Funya! MC, are you okay?” Grim inquires. Deuce and Ace also call out her name but there is no response. When the smoke clears, everyone in the room is left speechless.

The potential beast tamer hasn’t moved but an inch but she’s at least two feet shorter and with rounder cheeks and wide eyes. 

“WHAT?” she screeches in disbelief, suddenly too short to even reach the cauldron, “Fix this!” 

And this is how the group’s long catastrophic day begins.

Adventure 1: The beginning

“What?!” Grim shouts. If looks could kill, Crewel’s glare would have toasted the monster.

“Yes, it is hard to predict when MC will return to normal because you carelessly threw together that potion. It should wear off in a day, but there’s no guarantee,” the teacher explains through gritted teeth. The bell rings but the quartet barely registers it.

“Go to the headmaster! It’s not my problem anymore,” Crewel declares. 

Unfortunately, as most meetings with the headmaster are, the conversation is fruitless.

“Hah? We’re supposed to babysit her?” Ace asks.

“Yes! It’s your fault, is it not? Take care of her until the spell wears off,” Crowley declares.

“Isn’t there any way to break the spell?” Deuce inquires while nervously glancing towards MC.

“It’s hard to tell because you added in unknown amounts of various ingredients,” Crowley answers before muttering, “It takes too much time! I need to know what happens next in my novel.”

“Tch, what a lazy adult,” MC comments with a bored expression. She figured this would happen. She can’t even recall a moment when the headmaster had actually been helpful.

“What did you say?” Crowley demands. Deuce immediately picks up MC and heads for the door.

“Nothing! We’ll take care of her! See you later headmaster!” Ace explains while the two boys dash out of the office. They book it out of the hallway and then set her down on the ground.

“Hey! What was that about? It’s usually Grim saying stuff that gets us in trouble, not you,” Ace comments.

“Don’t tell me…Now she acts like a little kid too?” Deuce wonders.

Adventure 2: Stranger Danger

“Oh? Ramshackle prefect, you seem to be caught in quite the predicament.” MC glares at the Octavinelle dorm leader in return. Ace and Deuce are in the midst of calling Cater and Trey to ask for advice, giving Azul the perfect opportunity to approach her.

“I have an offer for you,” the second year begins.

“No.” MC is firm in her answer and has no intention of making any deals.

“Are you sure? I treat children well,” Azul adds but it only results in her frowning. There’s suddenly a glimmer in her eyes but before Azul can deduce what it means, MC begins shouting.

“STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER!”

“Stop that!” Azul insists but his wide eyes give away his flustered state. With a smile that looks a little too much like Chenya’s, MC continues her call for help. Soon enough, Deuce and Ace rush to her side.

“Stranger? That’s Prefect Azul! Have you forgotten him?” Deuce inquires with a look of concern. MC decides this is the perfect time to practice her puppy eyes and simply looks up at Deuce, wide eyes and with a pout.

Azul silently admits defeat as he forms a tight-lipped smile accompanied by some false pleasantries before exiting the area. 

“I’m hungry!” she announces before anyone can question her further. 

“Yes! Let’s go eat!” Grim agrees.

Adventure 3: Sweet Dreams

Getting lunch is a surprisingly painless affair. Though Night Raven College students could be quite self-centred, even they balked at harming a little girl. MC easily orders her favourites before sitting with her friends, though she has to sit on her knees to be at a comfortable height compared to the table.

“Wow! It’s true!~” Cater chimes while taking a seat at the table.

“How are you feeling?” Trey asks.

“Okay! It’s kinda weird but at least it was easy to get lunch,” she replies while taking a bite of her food.

“Now you really look like my minion!” Grim declares. MC shoots the monster a glare but doesn’t give him a response.

“You’re actually a little kid, huh? So, what do you wanna do when you grow up?” Ace teases.

“I want to control all the ghosts and have an army,” MC answers nonchalantly as if she had been discussing the weather.

“What?” Trey asks, slightly taken aback. Wasn’t this the person who was gullible enough to think that oyster sauce went in tarts?

“A ghost army,” she repeats confidently.

“Anyway! Aren’t you lucky? You get all these handsome guys to help you today!” Cater interjects, not wanting to unpack why the prefect wanted an army of the dead. 

Her gaze scans the table before looking up at Cater, eyes wide and expression void of malice, and asks, “Where?”

Grim howls with laughter while the four Heartslabyul students try to recover from the blow to their ego. It’s definitely going to be a long day for them.

Adventure 4: Smiles and stares

“Hey wait!” MC whines. One disadvantage of becoming short is that her stride decreased accordingly, thus her struggles to keep up with her classmate’s pace.

“Just walk faster or we’ll be late for class!” Ace retorts, glancing up ahead to see how far away the next building is. 

“AHH!” Ace turns around to see MC a couple of meters behind him face-first in a patch of grass. 

“Uwah! Are you okay?” Grim asks while flying above the fallen girl. Ace groans at the predicament. Deuce ran ahead to warn the other teachers of MC’s unfortunate condition so the redhead was the only babysitter at the moment.

The situation only worsens when MC begins to sit up, knees scraped, eyes glistening with tears, brows furrowed, and lips pressed tightly together. Ace’s eyes widen at the sight.

“Please don’t cry,” he mutters under his breath before trying to think about how to soothe kids.

“Oh my, that was quite a fall. You’re okay now though, right?” Jade asks while extending a gloved hand. His face is calm, showing no signs of concerns or worry with only a placid smile to demonstrate any emotion. MC stares at his face, analyzing his expression for a few moments. After finding the answer to her unsaid question, she accepts his hand and quickly sniffles before nodding. 

Ace watches in amazement as all signs of pain and panic vanish from her expression. He decides not to question her mood change before ushering the prefect to their next class.

Adventure 5: What came first? The egg or the chicken?

“You have to!” Deuce insists.

“NO!” MC shouts back, sitting firmly on the ground. Deuce is startled by the force of her words but stands his ground.

“It’s for your own good! Kids need exercise!” Or at least that’s what Cater told him before going to light music club.

“You can’t move me an inch!” MC retorts.

“I’m older, you should respect your seniors,” Deuce adds, doing his best to retain some level of patience.

“At least I know where chickens come from!” she rebuttals and Deuce feels at a loss for words. It is certainly not honour student behaviour to yell at a young girl but the first year is at his limits. He came to NRC to learn about magic, not dealing with children!

“Let’s play tag,” Jack suggests. Being the only one with little siblings, he is quickly enlisted to help. While disappointed in Deuce and Ace’s carelessness, he didn’t want to risk MC’s safety by leaving her in their care. Thus making him a reluctant member of the babysitting team.

“Tag?” MC echoes before a bright smile forms on her face. “Can it be teams?”

“Sure,” Jack agrees nonchalantly. 

“Jack and I are on the same team! We get to chase Deuce and Ace!” she declares gleefully.

“Huh? I didn’t agree to this,” Ace interjects.

“We need even teams!” MC responds with puffed cheeks.

“Too bad, so sad!” Ace replies without remorse.

“This is our fault Ace. Plus we promised the headmaster to take care of her. As Heartslabyul students and men, we can’t go back on our words!” Deuce declares. Jack’s firm gaze and Deuce’s blazing spirit give little room for negotiation and Ace sighs in defeat. Ace really does hate alchemy class from the bottom of his heart.

Adventure 6: Idiots, all of them

MC closes her eyes and enjoys the breeze while resting. Deuce and Jack had gone to the cafeteria to get drinks for everyone after several rounds of tag while Ace lay on the ground to catch his breath. It was quite entertaining to see the fastest first years engage in a game of tag and even more fun to watch Ace try to avoid his inevitable fate. Agile as he was, Ace couldn’t run fast enough to outdo Jack with his insane stamina and speed. She giggles at the memory.

“Bonjour petite princesse!” Rook looks down at the little girl with a shining smile. Her eyes snap open and follow the source of the cheerful voice. 

“Isn’t it delightful to see a new side to your friends? Like escorting someone on their first dance, like watching a lazy lion transform into a beast for the sake of the hunt, like observing night flox bloom under a full moon!” Rook beams but MC merely shrugs in response.

“Yeah but I’ve also seen Ace fall off his broom, Deuce compliment plants, and Jack mistake onions for a chemical leak.” 

“Oh? Is it not like having several princes tend to you?” he inquires. 

She scrunches her nose in thought before replying, “If my prince got stuck in a tree and I had to go save him.”

“Dear me, and I thought you were une petite princesse mignonne [1]! Perhaps that was a misunderstanding,” Rook remarks though he doesn’t seem displeased with the discovery.

Adventure 7: Mandatory nap

“Let’s go to the infirmary,” Ace suggests, “MC needs a nap and it’s the closest building with beds.”

“I’m the one that needs a nap?” she asks while side-eyeing her tired friend.

“She hasn’t even run for 3 hours,” Jack comments.

“Kids need naps! Plus, who knows what the side-effects of the potion are?” Ace adds, “We shouldn’t take any chances with her health.”

“You do need proper sleep to grow strong!” Deuce concurs.

“Sure, sure,” she concedes. When they arrive at the infirmary, there is no staff in sight. Ace guides her to a bed with an expectant smile.

“Well, go to sleep now!” Ace announces.

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m not sleepy,” she responds.

“Just lie in bed and close your eyes!” Ace insists with a huff.

“Shut up. You’re so noisy,” a voice growls. Leona appears on the other side of a room divider. Jack lets out a sigh, disappointed but not surprised by his dorm leader.

“I was having such a nice nap and now I’m… hah?” His sentence trails off as he eyes the little girl before him.

“Well,” you launch into an explanation of what happened, Leona shooting a judgemental look towards Deuce and Ace midway, before concluding, “It should wear off by the end of the day.”

“Tch, what an annoyance. I’m going back to sleep, don’t be loud,” Leona warns before flopping back onto the bed.

“How do you fall asleep so fast?” MC inquires. Leona glares at her, lips pressed together to form a thin line, but he lets any threats die in his throat.

“It’s nap time. Count sheep like a good herbivore until you fall asleep,” he instructs before turning his back towards the group. More than she’d like to admit, her small body requires rest and what better excuse than this? Besides, it’s not like magical history homework was particularly appealing, so she plops onto the bed to rest.

“I’m exhausted. Taking care of kids is tiring,” Ace says before falling onto another bed.

“It’s been a long day. I’m glad MC is okay, though. Haaah…I’m sleepy,” Deuce murmurs before resting on a different bed. Jack doesn’t comment but quietly begins his homework while keeping watchful eye on the little girl, not that he’d admit it if asked.

Adventure 8: The End. For now, anyway

She stretches after waking up, pleased to find her body back to its normal size. Ace snores lightly, Deuce’s mouth is agape, and Leona is nowhere to be found.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, I actually feel pretty good!” Their conversation awakens their friends.

“You’re finally back to normal! I’m relieved,” Deuce interjects.

“You’re a lot of work for a minion, ya know? You’re lucky I’m so great,” Grim comments.

“That was a pain! You owe me big time!” Ace adds. MC shakes her head and wonders if she has the greatest or most chaotic friends.

[1] une petite princesse mignonne = a cute little princess

[luvdsc]

[spoilers for people who havent read pussy blocked i guess? 😭]

omg i just finished reading and i love love love the original ending 🥺 ngl halfway through i started wanting y/n and jaemin to be endgame so i was very very satisfied!!!

especially the first scene when he thinks “oh i understand why jeno likes her so much....” and then again when she kisses him and he hesitantly kisses back??? omg??

and then when he thinks “oh this is what it’s like to want something you can’t have” ??? heartbreak.... and the “i think i love you” i thought it was jaemin’s thought at first but then after i wasn’t so sure, after reading the whole thing i think it was tho 😭

and finally when he’s like “wow this is what it’s like to want someone and feel wanted” hello??? tears!!! also i feel like this was the more “realistic” ending? in a way 🥺

also i was thinking about jeno’s mom seeing y/n again but with jaemin there too and she’d be like ??? but then i realized she’d probably also be like oh young love...

sorry there’s not much about jeno here but i did love his characterization!! and his relationship with y/n pre-commitment issues being super obvious, was cute!! i’m glad they could stay friends in the end 🥰

no but really i’m so happy for jaemin LOLOLOL idk why i think it’s the pining for my best friend’s girl thing and then finally getting the girl dhdhjd and y/n too!! her deciding to try because of jaemin?? like honestly they were so cute together even before, re: finding out they like the same little cafe?? jaemin coming to check up on her all the time?? THE WHOLE PANCAKE THING STARTED BC OF HER??? he wanted to try bc of her too rip me dhhdjd this is getting too long i’m sorry 😅

askldfalkjshdfl i’m gonna cry aaaa honey bee oh my god you are the absolute sweetest, and thank you so so much for leaving me the nicest compliments and feedback 😭😭💜💜💜 i also love love love the original ending, like i think this is the fic that i put the most effort and thought into writing in order for the ending to make sense 🤧 like i didn’t just want to throw it in there out of the blue, but i also wanted to subtly show their friendship behind the scenes, so it would have a little element of surprise :’) jeno is nice and all, but she and jaemin are friends for almost four years and trust each other and i just aklsjdhfljas (maybe this is just me showing my f2l roots LOL) - okay putting a read more because my response is super long aksdjfalkss

ah yes, that line about understanding jeno really sets up jaemin’s character too since later on, you find out he started making pancakes because of yn :’) so essentially, jaemin was also setting himself up for heartbreak a second time 🤧 asjdfadj that scene where she kisses jaemin is my favorite scene out of all of them 💞  jaemin loves her, so he wants to kiss her back, but there’s also jeno, so obviously, there’s some inner conflict, but this is the first time jaemin actually acts on his feelings and does something for him, rather than for jeno or yn

AAAA SWEETPEA, YOU POINTED OUT MY FAVORITE LINE OUT OF THE ENTIRE FIC 🥺🥺🥺💗💗 that line about jaemin’s heartbreak is my absolute favorite that i wrote, so thank you so so much for noticing it and appreciating it 🤧🌸 as for the “i think i love you” line, i initially had that as jaemin’s thought and placed it before he says “jeno loves you” to signify that, but i ultimately decided to place it ambiguously, so that the reader can decide whether it’s jaemin’s thought or yn’s :’)

and YES omg that line is supposed to mirror the previous line !!!! thank you for pointing both of them out, lovebug 🥺💟💟💟 i think it’s human nature to want to be wanted, accepted, and love, and all three characters crave that, but chose to find that want and acceptance in temporary ways. and i think so too!!! 💘 idealistically, she would’ve ended up with jeno because that’s what a rom com ending would be like, but realistically, after all she’s been though, i believe jaemin is the right choice for her 💗

LMAOOO omg i had this discussion with my friends too like yikes jeno’s mom 😬😬  also i was devastated over the fact that a jaemin ending meant she wouldn’t visit jeno’s cats as frequently anymore, but some sacrifices had to be made 😔 i did briefly allude to jeno’s mom knowing though!

“O-oh, we aren’t dating,” you stammer out, cheeks warming up at the implication. The bell pepper in your grasp slips from your hand, and you hastily catch it in time, stopping it from rolling off the cutting board. “We’re just friends.”

“Of course, my mistake,” his mother acknowledges before giving you a genuine smile, an indescribable look in her eyes: a mixture of knowing with a hint of melancholy—one that only a mother would understand. “The way he looks at you though… and you at him.” 

jeno’s mom knows. it’s a mother’s intuition, and she knows yn isn’t acting out of malice, but out of fear, but she knows it’s not going to end well or in the way we all hope for.

and omg it’s ok, you don’t have to apologize, honey bee!! jeno is my least favorite character out of the three anyway LOL if they had just figured out the miscommunication and mistakes early on, perhaps they would’ve been dating all throughout uni, but now, we’ll never know 🤧

i’m really happy for jaemin too, honey bee!!!! 🥰🥰  he and jeno actually started liking yn around the same time relatively! jeno knew her from class and met her at the party, but jaemin met her at the beginning of freshman year at the boba shop and continued to be friends with her all throughout uni. jeno’s crush was short lived because yn had inadvertently rejected him and then his feelings came back once they started talking again in their last year of uni, but jaemin has liked her since freshman year. he just never said anything because of the bro code rip BUT YES, YOU POINTED OUT ALL THE LITTLE DETAILS IN THEIR FRIENDSHIP TURNED RELATIONSHIP, AND THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY THANK YOU SO MUCH, ANGEL 😭💗💗💗💗 they both wanted to try to be better people because of each other, and that’s what love is 🥺🥺 alsjhkdfas and omg you don’t have to apologize, honey bee, i absolutely love long messages!!! thank you so much for discussing my fic with me!!! i love talking about my writings, and it makes me happy that you want to share your thoughts about it with me 💛  i hope you have a wonderful day/night, sweetpea 🌷🌷

[tuwam]

waves.

@urianius ( every time i write its always fucking au’s )

human were ugly.

not in the attractive - unattractive sort of way, but in a way that made ahyeon - confused. confused as to why her sister would leave them - her - for everything they had. why her sister would succumb to a lifestyle like that for one of them.

maybe it’s the legs. she’s often spent time thinking - pondering what the reason could be. what reason could areum have for forfeiting all that she knew and essentially all that she was for a human.  to be fair, the legs weren’t the reason areum thought they were ugly and neither was her disdain that they’d stolen her sister away from her...

well, it was most of the problem.

it was all of the problem.

she just didn’t understand it. 

but she holds no malice towards her sister, that’s why she finds herself here, settled in a cove by the shallowest parts of the beach, watching her sister each time she brings her beloved out to sea. she misses it, of that ahyeon can tell. areum still misses the sea, she misses the wind less in her hair and the feeling of the water along her skin - along her tail. it’s been hard to get used to seeing her sister like this, without something that she’d grown up with - something that it quite literally a part of them. for the moment, ahyeon supposes the smile on her face makes it worth it.

they are hugging, he’s gentle with her, her human and it makes ahyeon smile despite her initial distrust of him. he keeps hugging areum around her stomach and for that reason, today her sister glows and perhaps she can acquiesce her confusion. perhaps she’s so lost in how her sister looks, how she smiles, how she laughs and how it carries in the air instead of under the water. perhaps being that lost is how she’s caught off-guard. 

‘what are you doing?’ she hears the voice before she’d even noticed the presence and even as she registers the words it’s pointless to dive under the water.

she’s been spotted.

she does submerge the majority of her body under though, hoping the shadows will hide whatever edges of her tail might have peeked out. there’s water up to her neck and she uses this stance to turn and face the perpetrator. 

it’s a human - naturally. a young man, probably a few years younger than her own sister’s beloved. the tan on his skin alludes to a life that’s probably too close to her own. it alludes to fear rattling in her skin, of boys running along docks, screaming and pointing at her as she swims for life - for mercy. ahyeon holds still - her eyes narrowing to slits as she takes him in. he doesn’t move, just remains by the edge of the rocks, barefoot and not quite as wide-eyed as usual. maybe he hasn’t seen all of her yet? she hopes.

she breathes.

“i’m minding my business.”

the human tongue isn’t too hard, she’d taken to learning it after her sister begged for help with practicing. most of it was learned anyway for safety, the rest picked up for nights when they’d sit and listen to sailors, unaware and unsuspecting. it was amusing - feeling how her lips would move against the air, taste the salt the way it would taste it in the water. ahyeon didn’t mind it though she doesn’t fancy having to actually use it. 

‘no - you’ve been watching my mate since sundown.’ his mate? ahyeon would connect the dots later, she’s more concerned with how long he’s been watching - and how much he’s seen. “which means you’ve been watching me since i watched him.” her eyes narrow, his brow raises.

‘wanted to make sure you weren’t planning anything.’ “why would i have anything planned?” he shrugs, her skin prickles. ‘i don’t know what mermaids do - i only hear things.’

mermaid. it’s the word humans have for her kind. it’s also the confirmation that she’s been spotted. she needs to get away fast - but how far can she get before he alerts someone, how does she know there’s no trap ready for her already. she could call to areum - try to get their attention, try to win his favor. it clicks just then - that this boy had said it so nonchalant, when she’s used to quite the opposite. the yelling, the nets, the chaos and the fear licking at the air at the sight of her tail. he’d done none of the sort.

“where’s the net - i’m sure it’s waiting just outside the cove?” ‘what would i need with a net?’ “i don’t know why you humans do it - you just do it.”

it’s a habit their kind has - of attacking and picking apart anything different, anything they don’t understand. it makes her sick. no one sees her kind trapping humans and throwing them in nets and tying them to posts of castles and walls. 

‘i don’t have a net with me, and i don’t have one waiting somewhere.’ “i don’t trust you.” he shrugs at that and once more her skin bristles. she wants to get out of here, she doesn’t want to take her eyes off him but she wants to survey, wants to peek back at areum - weigh her options. if it’ll be the last time she sees her sister, if she wants a reminder that areum is not the outlier, that maybe she’ll be safe. she wants to do something but his eyes don’t leave her. 

“what...what are you staring at?” ‘can i see it...your tail i mean?’

ahyeon’s eyes go so wide they almost reach her eyebrows. 

“you - no - you can’t just - no.” she feels heat cloud her cheeks and she sinks further and further into the water until it covers up to her nose.

this human was weird. 

‘why not?’ “why are you still here?” ‘never met a mermaid before.’

there’s that shrug again, he has the nerve to look relaxed. he has the nerve to just stand like they’re having a casual conversation, like she doesn’t feel trapped in place right now. of course he does - no one’s ever heard of a mermaid trapping a human on land. she wants to take the second, just one second to flit and swim away. she could make it too, but his eyes seemed glued on her. they almost look - fascinated. it makes the heat move to her neck and shoulders and she’s almost glad she’s submerged further in the water. 

‘are you okay?’ “what.” ahyeon’s tone is clipped, her hands gripped around her torso, her tail reflexively flicking the tip of the water. his brows furrow and for the first time the human’s expression changes into worry. it’s so obviously worry and it confuses her. it’s concerning. ‘...are you scared?’ there’s so much innocence in her voice she’ll admit she’s never heard a human man sound like that. she’s only heard the deep bellow before the bellow of a gun or the slice of an arrow through the air. 

ahyeon doesn’t like to admit it but it’s the truth. it has to be the truth because of the nature of who he is and who she is. the history between her species and his, the stories, despite the love in her sister’s eyes, the history of bloodshed and nightmare tales to keep them away from the shore. she felt the fear so deep in her bones and she tried to hide it. she sinks further, now only her eyes visible from the water. she wants to escape how apologetic he looks, how gentle the words that he’s stumbling over start to look.

‘you’re - you’re not trapped here. you can go.’ they’re so gentle, she wonders if this is the lie that men hear when her kind sings. her head shakes the thought away. ‘i promise there’s nothing out there.’ 

she hears more yelling and her body freezes, she watches him stiffen as a name is called in the distance. she won’t have time to flee - they’ll see her.

‘catch!’ she barely has time to react before a cloth is thrown in her direction, covering her head and sitting atop the water as she lowers herself into the water. she can make out the sounds of other men, probably his age, as they inch closer. she can make out the words seconds later.

‘------ we’ve been waiting -----’ ‘----was gonna swim ----- catch up later ----’ she hears his voice among it. she hears laughter, a little nervous, she can almost hear the smile he has, though it’s not as wide as it could be. she hears a word thrown around, dong-hyuck. she doesn’t move though, and lets what can filter through the tiny space between her head and the shirt filter what it can. there’s more chatting and then the sounds start to fade. 

‘you still there?’ his voice is a whisper, it’s arguably closer now but it’s a few minutes later, almost like he’s given her heart time to breathe after the voices died out. ahyeon didn’t know she needed it but she definitely used it. ‘they’re gone, but you should head out before more ships dock.’ it’s said when her head starts to peek further up from the waters, his shirt clinging heavy and soaked atop her head. he’s laughing, and she gets a better look at him from where he’s standing now. he’s not much taller than her sister’s beloved, though much tanner, the same kind of smile though. it’s off-putting, goofy is the word areum had used.

‘sorry about the shirt, i lied and told them i was going for a swim.’ ahyeon’s taking the time to carefully remove it from her head, hands holding it close as her fingers play with the fabric. ‘what’s wrong - did it hit something?’

“you lied - why?” ‘you don’t want to be seen right?’

her sister’s beloved had been nice, nice since the first day they’d laid eyes on one another as ahyeon recalls. but he was still considered an outlier, not all human men were that nice so it’s baffling to ahyeon that she’s coming across one who seems to be of the same caliber. 

‘i’m sorry.’ “what for?” ‘i saw a peek of your tail when you hid.’ this human was weird. ‘it’s - it’s really pretty.’ really weird. that same heat from before threatens to cross over her shoulders again and ahyeon is at a loss for words. ‘go - you’ve gotta get far away before they come looking again. i don’t fancy a pretty maiden watching me get tossed in the ocean.’ he smiles again and ahyeon is sure it’s panic at the prospect of more coming that makes her heart leap so she dives so fast under the water that the image distorts under the bubbles of the waves. she swims as far as she needs to in order to feel safe, out near where the ocean peeks as a horizon to everyone else. 

but just enough, to see his figure among the rocks.

she swears she can still see the smile, swears she even sees him wave and she’s slipping under again, her tail the only indication of a wave back. just because maybe - maybe he isn’t so bad.

and maybe humans aren’t that ugly. 

[henrohenry]

Secret Lovers - Chapter 1

Once, a long time ago, there was a boy. The boy was small and strong. He didn't know very much, but was incredibly resourceful. His name was Henry. Henry was often made fun of for how his face looked. The long mark across his left eye a constant reminder of the silly accident that made his life hell. One would think, something so small as a scar would cause no harm or malice to befall upon someone. In this case, one would be wrong.

Henry never thought in all his life he would see the end of the relentless torment and bullying he received from peers and family members. 'All of this?" he would often wonder. 'I deserve all of this for an accident with a chicken?' The answer often alluded him. That is, until he turned 20. On his 20th birthday Henry and his only friend Jake were out at the pub. Jake too, was an outcast, though the reasoning for his was more along the lines of him talking to Henry. Down at the very end of the bar they saw a man. He was.... a very strange man to say the least, he was holding his pint of beer with a red solo cup. Jake turned to watch as he leaned over to Henry. "What an odd fellow, do you think its hard to drink with cups on your hands?"

Henry stared longer at the man. He was wearing a dark cloak that covered up his face just enough so Henry couldn't make out his features. Sure enough when he looked at his hands the mysterious stranger appeared to have cups on over his hands. Wait. Were they over his hands? They didn't look as if he could pull them off at will. In fact they more or less looked fused to his hands. "Huh...." Henry trailed off and without even thinking he walked over and sat on the stool beside the cloaked figure. The man stopped and put his drink down. He gave a sidelong glance to Henry and sneered. "Any reason you chose that seat out of the rest of the empty bar." The figured grumbled. His voice was low and gravely, toned down so it almost came out as a whisper. Henry shook his head gently. "No," he replied softly. "you just looked like you could use a friend." He smiled. The man looked up at Henry and rose a brow. The man had short brown hair that framed his face in soft waves. He stared at Henry with bright red eyes and a sad face. Henry tilted his head and smiled. "So are the cups a costume?" He asked.

The man shook his head and grunted. "No." He stated, grumpily. Henry pursed his lips. "What's your name?" Henry asked, sensing that the cups were a sensitive topic for the tall, brown headed man. "My name is Henry!" He chirped. The man sighed. "Wow you really don't give up huh? listen Kid you don't want to talk to me do you understand?" He said staring at Henry with a fury Henry's only seen twice before. Henry simply smiled. "Well anyone who says that obviously could use a friend!" he grinned as Jake finally gained the courage to walk over. "Henry, maybe we should leave him alone." Jake pleaded tugging henry's shirt.

Jake was a small man, only a few months younger than Henry. He was a tiefling, shorter than most, but his long black hair and fair light blue skin made up for it. His eyes filled with worry and dread as Henry shook his head and rubbed his hand off. "Come on Jake, I'm sure it's fine!" Henry smiled at him carelessly. "What's the harm in the three of us miscreants being friends." He threw a wink towards the stranger sitting beside him. The man sighed deeply. "Fine, you can call me Jimmy, but don't say I didn't warn ya." He grunted and took another swig from his pint. "And no, you can't ask how my hands work or what happened." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End Chapter 1

[homogrimoire]

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

Fair Game Week 2020: Day 5 - Hurt / Comfort

Read it on AO3 here.

Atlas had successfully defended against Salem’s attack, so naturally, a victory celebration scheduled for the next week. In the face of such an evil, people needed to be reminded of all the good things in the world that they were protecting. It was just a day for everyone to let loose and live life before having to go back to Atlesian monotony, which meant everyone was really going to let loose. And thankfully, the next day was also given off so that people could recuperate from the reverie of the previous day. Most citizens were free to spend the two days as they pleased, leaving For the students, a makeshift school dance was in preparation.

A little birdy told Clover that the kids were going, and Qrow would be there as a chaperone. The little birdy also told Clover that Ironwood had to beg Qrow to be a chaperone. Qrow was going to go anyways, but he liked messing around with Ironwood. To Clover, it was a very funny thing to imagine. The only other chaperones were Winter, Robyn, who lost a bet with her sister, and Ironwood himself. Of course, with nothing better to do, Clover volunteered to join the other brave adults who dared to attempt to control a group of teenagers. While many students opted to spend time with their families, some chose to party at their academy. Despite this, the dance would still be a decent size, so Clover’s “sacrifice,” as his team called it, was greatly appreciated by the other adults at the party. Clover didn’t really think of it as such. The way he saw it, it was a way to spend more time with Qrow. Over the months they spent together, Clover had developed a serious crush. It didn’t start out as such, though. Clover remembers the exact moment he realized he had fallen in love with Qrow. It began during their trip back from a supply run where he and Qrow were joined by Jaune and Ren. 

-

“And so, our boy’s night out comes to its end.” Jaune exhaled dejectedly. 

“No one said it has to end.” Qrow said with a grin. Jaune’s face immediately lit up.

“You mean ─!” He beamed.

“Well, it is the last mission of the day for all of us, and the sun’s barely setting. If you two,” Qrow said as he  referred to Ren and Clover, “don’t have plans, we could have some fun and see where the night takes us.”

“I don't have any important plans, so count me in.” Clover did have a reservation for a training room, but that hardly counted as important compared to living his life and spending time with Qrow and his kids. 

“And how about you, Ren? Are you gonna come, or do you have a hot date waiting for you?” Jaune asked as he nudged Ren, alluding to Ren and Nora’s new development in their relationship. 

“Actually, kinda. Me and Nora are going to spar later to develop our synergy more.” 

“Aww...” Poor Jaune deflated like a balloon.

“Don’t get too sad about it. It’s not like I’d know what to do anyways.” Immediately, the three of them looked at Ren, shock and concern in their eyes.

“Jaune.” Qrow ordered.

“On it.” He said as he pulled out his scroll. A mere moment later, Ren’s scroll rang. Before answering the call, he made sure to keep it a reasonable distance from his ears. 

“RENNNN!” Nora’s thunderous voice wailed. In the background, sounds of violence could be heard.

“Yes, Nora?” Ren moved the phone closer to his ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were planning a boys night out?!” The sounds of Yang screaming and grimm dying could be heard as Nora herself grunted in between words.

“It kind of came up just right now.”

“Well ─ Hold on a moment, would you?” From the other side of the line, her warrior’s cry could be heard, followed by the sound of multiple grimm having their armor and bones shattered. “Sorry about that,” she laughed, “but Ren, you should go and have some fun. Besides, we need a break from training. Oh! This gives me an idea! HEY!!! YANG!!!” A distant “what” could be heard. “WANNA HAVE A GIRLS NIGHT!!!” After the sound of a yell and a whimpering grimm, a “sure” was heard. “Nice! Alright, well bye! Love you!!!” Just before the call disconnected, the sound of a structure falling and roaring grimm through were heard.

“Are they ─” Clover looked concerned.

“They’ll be fine.” Ren assured without a drop of worry as he nodded his head. “Well, I guess we should pick up Oscar then.” Picking up Oscar proved to be a wise move. It gave them some time to think about where they could start their night. They were mostly drawing blanks, knowing so little about the area. Qrow mostly just knew about the location of some bars, but those obviously weren’t even going to be considered. So, Qrow asked the local “Lucky Charm” if he knew any good places to begin their night. Lucky for Qrow, he did. However, much to their dismay, Clover decided to keep where they were going a secret, except to Qrow. It made Clover’s heart skip a beat when he saw Qrow’s face lit up. And, needless to say, they all had a fun night. It was the break they needed from all their time working. By the time they got back, they were tired, and the girls were still out, likely having their fun. They said their goodbyes as they parted ways to their respective dorms, Qrow walking with the kids to theirs first. About part of the way to his residence, Clover turned around, deciding that he’d rather spend a bit more time with Qrow rather than just shower and go to sleep. Just before he rounded a corner, he heard Qrow and the kids talking, and stopped. He didn’t want to interrupt. However, despite knowing that he should give them their privacy, he stayed just around the corner, out of sight.

“I guess, what we’re trying to say is, thanks Qrow. We really do appreciate all the stuff you’ve done for us, and we’re proud of you too.” said Ren. Qrow really does have some good kids Clover thought.

“Well, I should thank you kids too. You all helped me a lot too.” To Clover, it sounded like Qrow was on the verge of shedding a tear. 

“Group hug?” asked Oscar, opening his arms.

“Group hug.” Qrow replied, opening his arms As they hugged, Clover could hear Jaune sniffling. Clover was undoubtedly happy for Qrow, but in the moment, he could also not help but feel his own loneliness wash over him. 

“Alright, that's enough.” Qrow laughed after the hug broke off. “I don’t want you kids making me go soft. I’ve got an image to maintain.” The boys laughed a little. “Welp, we should all go and get some sleep now. Good night kids.” Clover could hear his footsteps as he walked away as he walked away.

“Night Uncle Qrow.” the kids said in unison as they chuckled. Uncle Qrow? That's new. Of course Clover was happy that Qrow had people that cared about him so much, yet, he could also feel his loneliness consuming him even more. Normally, he didn’t mind the loneliness, but knowing that he was missing out on stuff like that always seemed to get him, showing no mercy and going straight for his heart. 

“You two can go on without me. I’m gonna go check on Nora. Apparently, their idea of a fun night is a free for all in the training room. They even got Winter and some other students to join. I can only imagine the carnage.” Crap! The way to the large training room they were in involved some backtracking from where they were, which meant Ren was going down the hall and around the corner where Clover was. He had to act natural. He didn’t want it to seem like he was purposely eavesdropping. He heard Jaune and Oscar’s footsteps as they faded away, and Ren’s as they got closer and closer. Just as he was about to make his move, heard Ren speak up. 

“I know you’re there.” Bested, he walked out from behind the corner.

“You’re pretty perceptive. I’m impressed.”

“Why were you there?” Ren asked, the question free of any malice. Clover sighed.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything. I just decided that I’d rather spend some more time with Qrow, so I came this way to find him, but then I accidentally walked in on your guys’ conversation. Uh, sorry, again.” Clover felt rather embarrassed.

“You didn’t mean any harm. It’s alright. But, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Oh boy…

“Do you… like Qrow?” Oh, that’s not so bad.

“Of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I mean, do you like like him?” Oh fuck. Clover could feel his face getting hotter as he tried to get out an answer, but ended up stammering. “I’m sorry if I’m just being too straight forward. I know I’m not the best with emotions, so I just want to know if Qrow will be in good hands.” Heh. Qrow doesn’t know how lucky he really is. Well, it’s not luck, its just what he deserves. 

“I think...” Clover thinks back on his time with Qrow, from their shared jokes, to seeing him grow to accept himself little by little, and to seeing him adore the kids, and the kids look up to him. “I think I do love him.” He leaned against the wall, coming to terms with the realization.

“Good.” With that, Ren left him to think about his newfound love for Qrow.

-

Clover knew his days with Qrow were numbered, so he wanted to share as much time with him as possible. Eventually, Qrow and his kids would leave for Vacuo, and he would stay in Atlas, alone once more. So, he looked forward to the day of the dance. He decided that it would be the day he would tell Qrow how he felt. If all went as he hoped, they would share the last dance. Clover was an optimistic, that that didn’t mean he couldn’t be realistic. He still considered the possibility that Qrow could turn him down, for either not feeling that he was ready for a serious relationship, or not reciprocating the feelings. The former, he could live with. It meant he still had a chance and that Qrow probably did like him too. That latter, he feared. If it came to that outcome, he just hoped they could still be friends.

-

As the days leading up to the dance had come and gone, he began to feel more and more confident. After all, the man flirted back with him all the time, at least, he was very sure it was flirting. Then there was his brief talk with Ren. From what Clover had heard, he didn’t even realize at all that his lifelong friend had a crush on him until she kissed him. Since, he was slowly getting better at understanding emotions. So, if even Ren noticed that Clover had feelings for Qrow, then everyone else definitely knew, which was a bit mortifying to Clover. He didn’t want the cat out of the bag too early. And then there was his response when Clover told him he loved Qrow. Good.  Not a You’re wasting your time, or a Qrow deserves better than you, but a simple Good.  Ren was an honest and good kid. If he knew either of those things were true, he would have told Clover. He didn’t, and, in a sense, basically told Clover that Qrow liked, even loved, him back. It was also kind of like Ren told him that he approved of him, which made Clover very happy. If he had Ren’s approval, he probably had the approval of the other kids too. The quickest way to know you can have a man’s heart is if his kids approve of you. his father would tell him. If he doesn’t have any kids, then have some kids with him and see if they approve of you. That worked out fine for me. His pa was funny, but Clover knew he had his dad’s sense of humor. 

The night of the dance Clover made sure not even a hair was out of place. He also mentally prepared himself for what would transpire. He had no doubt that Qrow would accept his love and the dance now, he just needed to prepare himself. It was a major thing he was doing. After checking his hair one last time, he made his way to the ballroom. Clover was guarding the punch bowl as Qrow arrived with the kids, Ruby eagerly dragging him along. Clover admired the man as he walked in. He was standing tall now, as opposed to the hunched over posture he would hold when he first arrived. And of course, he looked as stunning as ever. Hot, great with kids, amazing personality, and literally one of the best huntsmen to have ever lived. He was the whole package. How could Clover not fall in love with him? Qrow then split from the kids as they went do their own things, and made his way over to Clover.

“Hey there hot stuff.” Clover winked. He poured himself another cup of the punch and took a drink. It tasted all right, but as to be expected of a school dance planned on such short notice.

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself Lucky Charm.”

“Mmm, approval from Remnant’s finest. Lucky me.” Clover smiled as Qrow laughed at his joke. It made him excited for what was to come. As the night progressed, they continued chatting and joking as usual. If anyone asked Clover if he was being more flirty than usual, he would have said yes. Qrow was laughing as he told Clover about what went down in the Girl’s Free For All Night. As Ruby told him, Winter was suspected of helping Weiss, so Yang called her out and they began fighting. Ruby had called out “Big Sister Fight!,” which caught everyone’s attention. Everyone picked a side and began chanting “Big Sister Fight! Big sister Fight!” Upon hearing those words, one of the girls literally threw her own big sister into the mix, who Yang caught and threw at Winter. It was determined a tie, but Qrow was proud nonetheless.

“They grow up so fast.” Qrow said as he wiped away an imaginary tear, making Clover chuckle. “I remember my first fight with Atlas personnel like it was yesterday. It was back when Jimmy first joined Ozpin’s circle. This might come as a surprise to you, but we disagreed on a lot of things.” Qrow joked. “We butted heads a lot more then, so one day, we were both at each other’s necks, and Oz told us to take our problem out to the arena. We did, and I won.” Qrow said proudly.

“I’d LOVE to hear that story.” Clover shouted as he slung his arm around Qrow, his drink sloshing around. His volume caught Qrow a bit off guard, but he didn’t notice. Before he could respond, Yang called for her uncle to join them on the dance floor, wanting to see his “legendary” dance moves. Unsurprisingly, he agreed.

“Wanna show them how it’s done, Boy Scout?” Qrow asked.

“No thanks. *hic* I’m good. We need our forces to be spread out anyways! Can’t let these kids have too much fun, now can we?” 

“If you say so.” Qrow shrugged, and went off to put the kids in their place. Clover watched Qrow as he put everyone else to shame with his moves. Every now and then, he would partner up with one of the kids for a real show stopper, leaving them giddy. That went on for about an hour. The man certainly had excellent stamina. At the end of a combo with Nora, she loudly proclaimed him her Uncle Qrow and gave him a tight hug, lifting him off the round, which caused him to beam proudly. Meanwhile, Clover was still standing back, keeping his eyes on Qrow as he drank more of the punch. They all look so happy. Clover smiled. He thought that if, just if, Qrow turned him down later, he wouldn’t mind too much. As long as I can see him happy. It won’t be so bad anyways. I’ve been alone all along anyways. It won’t be so different. 

“What’s with the long face?” Clover heard, breaking him free of his thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” He didn’t notice that Qrow looked a bit sweaty.

“Are you sure? You don’t seem alright Cloves.”

“I can assure, you, cutie. I am a- *hic* okay.” He stammered out. He moved to lean on the table, but missed it. Fortunately for him, Qrow caught him before he could hit the ground. “Heh, lucky me huh?” Qrow grunted as he picked him up, slinging Clover’s arm over his shoulder. 

“Come on Boy Scout, let’s get you back to your place.” 

“Shouldn’t you take me out on a date first? Not that I’m gonna complain though.” He winked, but it lacked its usual charm

Weiss!” Qrow shouted. “Get your sister to take care of this punch! Someone spiked it! I’ve got Clover to take care of!” Clover felt his heart drop. 

“Will do!”

“Wuh? It’s not spiked! I’ve been watching it like a hawk alll nighT.”

“Someone must have been waiting until you got distracted and did it then.” Qrow wasn’t too surprised. It may have been Atlas, but teens will be teens regardless.

“Well, at least you drank most of it rather than the kids.” Qrow noticed that Clover was still holding onto the cup, which still had some of the alcoholic punch in it. The thought to steal some did not cross his mind. “Here, let me see.” he said, referring to the cup. Clover handed it to him, and he took a sniff. He let out a low whistle. He almost pitied the parent who lost whatever it was the kid dumped in the punch.

“That’s some strong stuff.” he said as he tossed it into a trash can. However a sniffling Clover quickly caught his attention.

“Hey, hey, no need to cry. You're fine.” He cooed softly as he wiped away a tear.

“*sniff* I know, I only *hic* only wanted yOu to have a good night. And now? *sniff*You─ you’ve got to take care of me. Some, sad and lonely guy, who got drunk around the─  the amazing guY, who gave up alcohol *sniff* cold turkey! for his kids! *hic*” 

“Hey! Don't blame yourself. It was an accident. I know you wouldn’t do that to me.” Mentally, Qrow noted to really thank Tai for dealing with his drunkenness for so long. “And if it helps you, I’m grateful that I can at least use my experience being drunk to help you out. It’s nice to know I can use it for something good.” Clover looked up at Qrow. Only he could look divine in the unflattering cold lights of Atlas.

“Thankss Qrow. Means a lot to me.” Clover began to lean on him more, drowsiness evidently kicking in. 

“Well, what are friends for?”

“Yeah… Friends...” Qrow found the sad face he made perplexing. He just chalked it up to the drunkenness. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. They continued the rest of their walk in silence until they reached Clover’s room. By then, he was carrying Clover bridal style as he was too drowsy to walk, even with Qrow’s support. He was obviously trying to keep himself awake. 

“Here we are Cloves.” He got out Clover’s keys, which asked for earlier, and opened the door and walked over to his bed. Clover weakly resisted and murmured, wanting to stay in Qrow’s arms, as he set him down onto his side. After making sure he wouldn’t roll over, he gathered a glass of water and the small trash can that was in the restroom. A side effect of the magic enacted upon him was slightly enhanced night vision, which allowed him to see well enough in the darkness of the room. He could have turned on the lights, but he wanted Clover to be comfortable as much as possible. Placing the trash can by the bed, he gently shook Clover. “Hey, Clover.” It took a moment, but he soon opened his eyes. 

“Yes?”

“Here.” he said, turning on the desk lamp so he could see the water being handed to him. “So you don’t get dehydrated.”

“Thanks.” Clover sat up and downed half of the glass before setting it down on the nightstand. He went back to laying down on his bed. With that, Qrow turned the light off and sat next to the bed on the floor so he could keep Clover in his view. Qrow was beginning to feel a bit tired as well.

“Get some rest now Lucky Charm. I’ll be here if you need me. Good night.”

“Good night. I love you.” 

“Love you too Cloves.” Let’s see if you’ll still love me tomorrow. Clover thought, just before drifting into sleep. Mid-yawn, he realized what they had just said to each other. He looked at Clover to see his reaction, but he was out cold. Qrow wasn’t exactly sure why he said it. It just felt like the natural thing to say. And there goes my sleep. Qrow thought. Sitting there, he wondered if Clover truly meant it. He had been harboring a crush on him for sometime now. He just hadn’t acted upon it. He wasn’t sure how to. His formative years left little room for a serious relationship, and definitely hadn’t taught him to think he was even worthy of love. As a result, his adult years were mostly spent drunk, leaving him still unable to love in such a way, and think he was worthy of such love. Only recently did that change. However, that didn’t mean he would know how to convey those feelings as he would have liked to. Against the odds, he fell asleep in about an hour, still thinking about those few words, and daring to hope they would ring true in the morning. Clover only woke up once, just to drink more water and to go to the restroom. With the alcohol still in his system, Qrow helped him move around. Clover didn’t say anything. Qrow only kept thinking about those words, kept daring to hope. 

-

Come the morning sun, Qrow found himself to be the first to wake. Knowing firsthand what it was like to wake up with a nasty hangover, Qrow went into the small kitchen to see what he could find some eggs and orange juice. He found some eggs, but no juice. He went to check on Clover before texting Ruby to see if she could bring some orange juice from the cafeteria, telling her to take her time since he was still asleep. He was still sound asleep. He got out a frying pan and made some eggs, periodically checking in on Clover. The time tested hangover cure usually involved raw eggs and orange juice, but he didn’t want to risk salmonella, and had the time to cook the eggs anyways. As he was searching the cupboards for pain relief / fever medicine, he heard a groaning, hungover Clover with messy hair walk into the kitchen. 

“Ughhh, what happened last night?” he asked as he rubbed his temples.

“You accidentally got drunk off of some spike punch.”

“I what?” Clover asked quickly, eyes wide from shock. 

“If it’s any consolation, it was some strong stuff they snuck in.” He looks adorable when he’s surprised.

“Oh my gods, Qrow, I am so sorry. I─”

“Calm down Lucky Charm, it’s no big deal. You didn’t mean to get drunk or anything. I will say that you’re pretty lucky that I know a lot about being drunk.” Qrow teased with a smirk. The familiarity of their joking nature with each other helped calm Clover down. “Here. You’ll want this stuff.” He set down a plate of scrambled eggs and a glass of water, along with a pain relief pill to help with the headache. If anyone were to just walk in on Qrow setting down the food with a soft smile and Clover returning the smile, they would have thought it domestic. This did not evade Qrow and Clover’s minds.

It’s like we’re actually dating.

“Thank’s Qrow. Let me just brush my teeth first.”

“No problem. You’d do the same for me, and smart move.” Meanwhile, Qrow thought about last night. “Say, do you... remember anything from last night?” Qrow asked once Clover returned, as  he made some food for himself. For a moment, he tried to remember as far back into the night as he could.

“Last thing I can recall is when you went to dance with kids.” he replied before taking another bite of the food. Except for a dream where I told you I loved you, and you told me that you loved me back. 

“I imagined as much. At least you didn’t throw up. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“It’s probably because of the pretty good luck charm in front of me.” 

“Careful Boy Scout. Keep talking like that, and I just might have to stay the night.” With a single wink, Qrow made Clover’s heart skip a beat. “You know, to make sure the alcohol is out of your system.” 

“Yeah, of course...” Clover hid his sadness well. Figures. However, he couldn’t see the blush that was spreading across Qrow’s face. A knock on the door knocked Clover out of his sad state. “I got it.”

“It should be Ruby.” Qrow told him. “I asked her to bring some orange juice. It’ll help with your hangover.” 

“Uncle Qrow!” Ruby exclaimed as she zoomed into the room, latching onto the person who opened the door. She quickly noticed that the man she tackled was, in fact, not her Uncle Qrow.

“Whoops, eh he. Not Uncle Qrow. Sorry about that.” 

“It’s alright Ruby. I’d have to be pretty used to being knocked around by now anyways.” He chuckled. 

“You really should be more careful Ruby. He might have a headache.” Weiss said as she peaked around the corner, trying to keep her voice low. He didn’t expect her to be here, or the rest of her team.

“Lucky for me, I don’t. Your Uncle here’s been taking good care of me.” He said as Ruby helped him up

“Oh, good. I hope you don’t mind if the rest of us then.” Nora said as she peaked through the door. Clover laughed at the small surprise. 

“Nope. The more the merrier, they say. But, uh, sorry it's a bit cramped. This place wasn’t made with so many people in mind.” Clover rubbed the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed. His place wasn’t messy or anything, he was just surprised that all the kids came along. 

“It’s nice to hear that you’re holding up well.” Ren said as he walked in, hiving Clover a quick but knowing glance. 

“Had a real doozy, huh?” Oscar asked. 

“And you should have seen Yang. She went around with Winter to interrogate everyone, trying to find out who spiked the punch.” Blake told him.

“We’ll find ‘em soon enough.” Yang said as she pounded a fist into her palm, causing Blake to laugh.

“I’m sure you and Ice Queen will bring our Boy Scout’s perpetrator to justice, Firecracker. Just don’t go too hard on them though, we need ‘em alive.”

“No promises.” They all laughed. Clover didn’t doubt that she would be merciful, or that Winter would either. 

“You kids ate, right?” Qrow asked.

“Yes Uncle Qrow, we ate. We’re not little kids. We can feed ourselves, you know.” Ruby told him.

“Looks like your Uncle Qrow might actually be a Mother Hen.” The kids laughed.

“Clover! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Qrow said as he tried to hold back his laugh, but he could not hide his smile.

“Which reminds me, here’s the juice Qrow requested for you.” Ren placed the bottle on the table beside his plate. 

“Thanks Ren.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied with a smile. 

“Even if you think you feel better, you should still drink some.”

“I will, my knight in shining armor.” After taking a drink, he did feel better than before. A he put the bottle down. The kids were chatting in the background as Qrow sat across from him, his back towards the kids. He could see Ren, towards the back, motioning him to look at the bottle of orange juice. After briefly scanning it, he noticed the phrase “Tell him!” written discreetly on it. He could feel the temperature rising in his face. Qrow was quick to notice. 

“You good Lucky Charm? Looks like your fever might be stronger than I thought.” Qrow moved his hand to feel Clover’s forehead, which only made him feel even warmer. “Here.” He said, offering a cold glass of water and some more medicine. 

“It’s─ it’s not that.” His heart told him to stop, that he would be fine if he didn’t tell Qrow, that it wouldn’t be able to take it if Qrow rejected him. His mind told him to tell Qrow, that the kids cared for him, that Qrow cared for him, and that his heart would thank him later. 

“”Everyone. I have something to say.” He said as he stood up from his chair. All eyes were on him. He took in a deep breath to calm himself. “Qrow, I...” All the way in the back, Ren was giving him a thumbs up. “I love you.”

“I had a feeling you did.”

“Huh?”

“You told me last night.” Okay, so that wasn’t a dream. That means... Qrow got up from his seat and moved closer to Clover. “I could tell you what I told you” Qrow teased, a blush spreading across his face, “but I’ll do you one better.”  Slowly, he closed the distance between them, bringing their lips closer and closer. Once their lips touched, nothing else seemed to matter in the world at that moment, not Atlas, not the grimm, and not Salem. As they parted, Clover wished they could continue. “I love you too Clover.” Qrow pulled him in for a soft embrace. Somehow, it meant more than the kiss. He felt even more people joining in on the hug. He opened his eyes to see that all the kids had joined in. He noticed that he was crying. However, it was not from sadness. Clover just knew that it felt right, knew that he wouldn’t be alone anymore, and knew that he was loved.

[coffeestainedpoems]

Hello, I have a theory! 

It is very much half cooked and I haven't thought it through enough to find loopholes but-

I feel like the songs: the 1, this is me trying, Betty, august, seven and Cardigan all involve the three same people.

James, Betty (who are childhood best friends) Inez (this *can* be a reach but I'm just believing that James mentioned the girl he ditched Betty for in 'betty', because honestly why would Taylor randomly mention an unrelated name?) 

I believe this is the timeline:

It starts with Betty and James and the song seven. This song is from when James and Betty are kids- quite obviously, about Betty falling in love with James who has an abusive father (explains the 'chosen family' references in 'Cardigan' and 'the 1', both girls implying in both songs that they could be James' chosen family, alluding the lack of a "natural" one, or abandonment)

It's about Betty's desperation to save James from the haunted house he lives in (a child's way of reasoning a mad and angry father) 

The girl in the song is Betty, and the kid she's in love with- James. A song about their childhood of sweet teas and tree climbing. This also explains how Betty is "the 1" for James. She's always loved him as she's always 'known' him. 

Next I think 'august' happens. 

A slip up. James' upbringing doesn't make it hard to believe that he can have commitment issues, the kind of thing he has with Betty can scare him into stepping back. Which can also lead into him distracting himself from the fact that he's 'dreaming' about his best friend he has just started kissing in 'dive bars' and his car. Which can lead into a summer fling. 

I love, love, love this song because Taylor has captured the awkward, lovely, confusing teenage love be so beautifully it makes me cry. 

Inez knows James isn't 'hers' but when you're young all you're trying to find is your self worth, and so the juvenile thought of having someone who is "someone else's" can seem very appealing. 

Lyrical easter eggs/ parallels

"Salt air, and the rust on your door, I never needed anything more, whispers of " are you sure?" "never have I ever before" 

This clearly tells us this thing started in summer with party games- Never have I ever the ultimate American fling starter. 

"your back beneath the sun, wishing I could write my name on it, will you call when you're back at school, I remember thinking I had you"

Homegirl's starting to catch feelings, which i feel like wasn't the intentention she started this with. Also school reference. 

"For me, it was enough, to live for the hope of it all, canceled plans just in case you'd call, and say, "meet me behind the mall"

Full disclosure: this isn't a fling for her anymore, she knows he doesn't love her, but she's too far gone to care. 

"Remember when I pulled up and said "get in the car""

Inez took the big step™ and James had the absolute audacity to call her a "figment of his worst intentions"- men deserve zero (0) rights. 

Now we move onto " this is me trying" 

This song describes James' thoughts after 'august'. This fits very well with 'Cardigan', obviously, this is James picking up the courage to go back to Betty. This is him facing his fears.

Lyrical easter eggs/ parallels:

"I didn't know if you'd care if I came back. I have a lot of regrets about that"

Having a hard time believing someone can care about you even after you fuck up? Welcome to the damaged kids club, James. 

"I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere, fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here"

Such clever lyricism, uff, so here James is telling us how he over thought himself a new reality because when he found love and friendship in the same person and- it felt too good to be true. But here is now, following his classmates to a party. At Betty's house.

"And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you"

Need I explain? HE'S LOOKING FOR BETTY. He's also drunk now (explains the huge emotion shift in between Betty and this song)

 

Cardigan (Betty's POV) 

This is Betty after first learning about the rumours, because Inez isn't trying to keep quiet about her and James' summer fling, like, at all (and why should she?) What I like here is how Betty is more upset at James and not Inez, because it might be the more smart and sensible response to someone cheating on you, but it is not a common response that women have in many films and other media formats, they instead start attacking the woman their SO cheats with them on, totally absolving their SO of any malice, which is just plain absurd to me (and Taylor too now, started with BTR now we HERE) 

Lyrical Easter eggs/ parallels:

"I knew you, leaving like a father"

This I think is the biggest and most hurtful sentence Betty says to James, that he's become like his father. And it is so hurtful because it is true.

"A friend to all is a friend to none, chase two girls, lose the one"

Throughout the song we get a certain silent anger emanating from Betty, and rightfully so. I love how Betty attacks James in this song lol.

"But I knew you, playing hide-and-seek" 

"You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleedin"

These can be parallels to "Seven", alluding to childhood activities (drawing on each other, hide and seek). And Betty knowing James before anyone. More than anyone. 

"To kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed"

Parallel with "Betty"

Next we have : BETTY

This song is in James' POV, after "this is me trying", he's at Betty's party and now he's drunk. Which is why this whole song seems like something James is rambling, a little comical, which would be weird considering that he cheated on Betty- 

Easter eggs/parallels:

"You heard the rumors from Inez, you can't believe a word she says, most times, but this time it was true"

Okay why is Inez being slandered, I don't like this. 

"I was walking home on broken cobblestones"

Parallel with "cardigan" 

"Just thinking of you when she pulled up like,  figment of my worst intentions, she said "James, get in, let's drive"

Parallel with "august" 

"Yeah, I showed up at your party, will you have me? Will you love me? Will you kiss me on the porch, in front of all your stupid friends?"

Parallel with "cardigan"

 "Standing in your cardigan, kissin' in my car again"

Parallel with "cardigan"

So he gets her back, they start kissing again. Also remember this is a very public patch up, he's showed up at her porch, in front of her "stupid" friends. Inez must've been there too, since they go to the same school

 

And it ends with "the 1"

This song is Inez thinking what could've have been if she was "the one" for James and how some greatest love stories are never written. 

easter eggs in lyrics/ parallels

"I had this dream you're doing cool shit, having adventures on your own. You meet some woman on the internet and take her home" 

She's dreaming of James choosing a relative stranger (which Inez is, if you look at it with Betty's eyes) to take home.

Also that he's alone. No best friend. 

 "I, I, I persist and resist the temptation to ask you, if one thing had been different would everything be different today?"

I see this as parallel with "Cardigan"  because in that song Betty says James will be always a part of her what ifs- and he is, just Inez's now.

"In my defense, I have none, for digging up the grave another time". 

Ines apologizing for bringing this up again.

" We were something, don't you think so, Rosé flowing with your chosen family, and it would've been sweet, if it could've been me"

Parallel to "seven", she's saying they could've had their own family. Own James actually liked. 

[rutilation]

Listen, they’re not evil. They just lack empathy, and go into a dissociative state and commit atrocities.

As much as it pains me to do so, I’m going to start off by talking about the bastard himself.  I must say, believing that rage and misery is the inevitable endpoint of a person’s life is an awfully convenient belief for Aechmea to hold when his plan would end all sentient life as collateral damage. If all your victims are better off dead anyway, then your actions don’t warrant any guilt!

There’s a little moment in chapter 67 that has always stuck out to me as being representative of Aechmea’s character, and I think it’s especially relevant to this chapter. It’s the part in which Cairngorm is trying to argue that it’s in Aechmea’s best interest to keep Phos as mentally stable as possible since they’re his staunchest ally amongst the gems. My reaction upon reading that line was that their appraisal of Aechmea’s intentions was very naïve.  To the contrary, the more unstable Phos becomes, the easier it is for Aechmea to manipulate them.  At this point in the narrative, Phos is no longer carefully treading through negotiations with Aechmea, as they were in volume eight and the beginning of volume nine; they’re now doing exactly what he wants, with gusto, and no thought to the long term consequences.  This is entirely deliberate on Aechmea’s part, and indeed, in the very same chapter that Cairngorm brought this up, Aechmea pulled the same trick on them.  He made Cairn feel cornered and desperate, presented himself as the sole solution to their problem, and thus Cairn went from being deeply suspicious of Aechmea to…still being deeply suspicious of Aechmea, tbh, but burying it under an ironclad sense of denial.  This chapter even contains a callback to chapter 67:  Both here and there, Phos/Cairn is broken and despondent, Aechmea is looming over them, and they reach out to weakly cling to his hand.

He asks Barbata to “handle” Phos’s memories of the past two hundred years.  That’s an ambiguous line if I’ve ever heard one.  Correct me if I’m wrong, but Phos shouldn’t have memories of the past two hundred years, right?  I’m not sure if this is implying that he wants Barbata to implant false memories within Phos of the past two hundred twenty years, or—heaven forbid—if he’s implying that Phos actually has memories of the timeskip, and that he wants Barbata to make sure Phos doesn’t lose any of them.  If it’s the latter, that would suggest that Phos has, somehow, been conscious this whole time (holy shit,) and that Aechmea doesn’t want Phos to be able to move past those memories.  Regardless of what he’s referring to though, the sentiment behind his cryptic order is clear: now that he’s molded Phos into something he can easily control, he’s taking pains to ensure that they’re stuck in their current incarnation, so that they don’t evolve ever again.  It brings to my mind this scene in chapter 54, in which Aechmea all but fetishizes Phos’s capacity for change.  It was already pretty creepy, but knowing that this is what he intended for Phos to change into adds another layer of wrongness to that exchange.

It’s interesting that just a couple chapters ago, Phos was screaming at Kongou “If only you weren’t here!”   But here, the sentiment has completely inverted, and Phos is weeping as they say that Kongou is the only one who still cares for them, and that it’s the gems who shouldn’t be here.  In only a few short hours, they’ve gone from directing all their hatred at Kongou, to directing it at everyone except him.  Their rage is unformed and all over the place.  Good thing Aechmea’s here to refine it to his own ends!

Aechmea says that he’ll answer Cairngorm’s question “when this is all over.”  That could imply a couple of different things, depending on what he means by that.  If he means he’ll tell Cairn after he’s finished dealing with Phos for this chapter, then that’s one thing.  But, if by ‘all over’ he means that he’s not going to say anything until Kongou successfully prays, and his victory is assured--as with the previous secret he was keeping from Cairngorm, then that implies that whatever he was alluding to when he said he had loved Cairngorm since before they came to the moon, it’s probably something awful.

If you’ve been following my essays for a while, you’ll know that I’ve long suspected that some sort of Cairn-related plot twist will rear its ugly head at some point in the near future, and that mind-control eyeballs were perhaps only the tip of the iceberg.  Well, after nearly a year of deliberation, I’ve settled on my personal theory of what this plot twist could be, but it’s far outside the scope of an essay focused on a single chapter, so I’m going to post my thoughts on that in another essay sometime in the coming weeks.  Keep an eye out for it if you want to see me go fully and embarrassingly tinfoil hat.  (With my luck, chapter 83 is going to reveal what Aechmea meant by his cryptic statement before I get that essay done, and it’s going to be something banal, thus ruining my precious conspiracy theory.)

But enough about cornmeal and acne man, let’s talk about the trajectory Phos seems to be on, and also about Cinnabar.

For quite a while now, it’s been a pretty popular theory that Cinnabar will eventually kill Phos with their mercury, and it does feel like things could head in that direction.  Phos is so far gone that they’re willing to kill anyone in their path, and in so much pain that their death could be construed as a mercy.  And since they can best Bort in a fight, it would seem that Cinnabar’s mercury is the only thing that could actually stop them, especially since it could chemically bind to their alloy and poison Phos from the inside out.  To be perfectly honest though, something about this potential course of events has always rubbed me the wrong way, but until this chapter, I hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly what it was I didn’t like.  

The whole story was started because Phos thought Cinnabar deserved better than their miserable lot in life.  At no point did Phos, or the narrative for that matter, ever suggest that it would be for the best if Cinnabar were simply put out of their misery.  Their plight warranted not just a release from pain, but a better life to replace it.  And as they are now, Cinnabar probably doesn’t want to die anymore, and I imagine they’re glad they didn’t go through with their passive attempt at suicide.  (Come to think of it, I think they’re the sole character who’s moved away from being suicidally depressed over the course of the story, instead of gradually succumbing to it.)  So, now that the shoe is thoroughly on the other foot, and Phos is the one at rock bottom, it would leave a really bad taste in my mouth if Cinnabar’s response to Phos’s pain ends up being: “Yeah, you should die.”  

So, although the plot is probably going maneuver Cinnabar into a situation in which they have to decide whether or not to kill Phos, I hope that it’s ultimately in service of that not coming to pass.  

Speaking of Cinnabar, I really hope we finally get more insight into them in these coming chapters. Broadly speaking, more stuff has happened with them the past twenty or so chapters than most of the rest of the series.  Their whole life was upended, they (seemingly) made a friend in Bort, and they’re finally making choices that affect the plot, which hasn’t really happened since volume two.  But, despite all this, we don’t really know what they’re actually thinking, of what emotions they’ve been going through.  You can make some inferences, but that’s not really as affecting as experiencing their perspective firsthand, and I think that’s why people get the impression that they’ve been made irrelevant to the story, despite the fact that they’ve been contributing to the plot lately.  So, hopefully we’ll finally get some further elaboration on them in the near future; I think it would remedy the issue quite a bit.

I’ve been thinking lately that what Cinnabar did to Phos in this arc is kind of a grim mirror of how Phos’s desire to help Cinnabar became muddied over the course of the story.  I don’t believe that Cinnabar was acting out of malice in chapter 78 when they suggested burying Phos in pieces.  If they genuinely wanted Phos dead, they could have encouraged the earth gems to go along with Rutile’s murderous impulses, instead of coming up with a plan in which Phos might come back eventually—certainly no one else in that scene, sans Euclase, voiced any objection to Rutile’s idea, and if Cinnabar hadn’t spoken up, they all might have gone along with it.  I think it’s quite possible that they were attempting to protect Phos by trying to appease the other gems’ enmity in a way that wouldn’t bring Phos permanent harm.  

But, just like how Phos’s ever-shifting goalposts pushed Cinnabar to the back of their mind over the course of the story, it’s possible that their new life among the gems had the same effect on Cinnabar.  Thus, in their mind, Phos was relegated to an important but altogether distant obligation that they’d deal with later, when the time was right.  But since these are gems we’re talking about, the time is never right, and complicated problems like these never get dealt with.  And just like how it was cruel and thoughtless when Phos put Cinnabar on the backburner, it’s cruel here too—especially if, as I speculated earlier, Phos was somehow awake this whole time.

Because I am a sentimental sap who still has a little bit of hope for a bittersweet ending instead of a complete tragedy, I think that Cinnabar might actually be a wild card in this situation, one who has the potential to save Phos from themselves.  (I’m sorry.  I can’t help myself.  My mind is stuck in power-of-friendship mode, and it’ll probably stay there until Ichikawa beats the idealism out of me, just like she beat it out of Phos.)  Keeping in mind what things Aechmea has been able to deduce either through direct observation through Phos’s eye, or what might have been reported to him from any Lunarians returning from an attack on earth, he doesn’t have enough information to figure out that Phos had a strong connection to Cinnabar.  Although he’s confident now that Phos has no ties to anything they once loved, and is wholly dependent on him, the previous chapter shows that Cinnabar still means something to Phos, even in this state.  Since all of this exists in a blind spot for Aechmea, I think it has the potential to muck up his plans—if Ichikawa deigns it to be so, of course.

Now let’s talk about symbolism, because there’s a lot of it.  First off, I want to talk about a pattern I noticed regarding Phos’s changes, one which I discussed in the very first meta I wrote for the series.  At the time, I speculated that the title of the art book, Pseudomorph of Love, was hinting at this pattern, but when the artbook was translated later courtesy of @red-dia, it turns out that said title was alluding to something totally different. Nevertheless, I think I may have inadvertently stumbled onto a method regarding Phos’s changes that seems too consistent to not be deliberate, and I’ll reiterate it here:  With the very notable exception of the pearl eye, down to even the most minor of losses, every permanent loss and addition to Phos’s body has been tied to an attempted act of kindness.  Specifically, Phos loses parts when trying to do something altruistic, and they are given new parts out of kindness on another characters part.

They had to have contaminated parts of their body scraped away after trying to save Cinnabar from falling.

They lost their legs while trying to help Ventricosus return home, and gained the new legs because of an act of kindness on her part.

Although the ice flows initially tried tempting Phos into giving up their arms by reflecting their self-loathing, it was only when they frightened Phos with the idea that Cinnabar might kill themselves if Phos doesn’t change quickly enough that they accidentally-on-purpose lost their arms.  While Antarc initially dismissed the gold they ended up giving to Phos as useless, they changed their tune when they noticed Phos projecting their own low self-esteem onto the gold.  To me, it seems like the act of giving Phos the gold was their way of telling Phos that they’re not worthless.

They lost a bunch of small pieces while trying to save Antarcticite

They lost their head while trying to save Cairn’s arm.  And then Cairn... uh…  Let’s put a pin in that for now, and come back to it when their character arc has progressed a bit further.  The element of mind control eyeballs that may or may not even be real makes the situation a bit more fraught than I care to get into right this very second.

They lost Lapis’s hair while shielding Morga and Goshe from the Lunarians.

They gave away a piece of their leg so the Admirabilis would know they weren’t holding a grudge against Ventricosus

With that established, let’s talk about the pearl eye.  The moment they received it was practically an inverse of the established pattern. It was a transformation motivated by spite on Phos’s part, and for Aechmea, it was an opportunity to exert control over them.  Even the act of receiving the pearl eye made them sick, mysterious human particles notwithstanding.  The ensuing chapters after they received the pearl eye are, as I’m sure you’re all aware, a whole lot darker and meaner than what the story had been up to that point. If I had to draw a dividing line between the part of hnk that is simply melancholy, and the part that makes the reader feel like a frog in boiling water, I’d use Phos’s first trip to the moon to demarcate these two tones—and the symbol that heralded this descent into hell was the introduction of an unkind addition to Phos’s body.  

That brings us to the matter of their most recent loss.  Since it’s now apparent that they won’t be getting their other parts back, we can look back on the moment they lost those parts for good and see if it fits the previous pattern, and in my opinion, it does.  The reason Phos was in that situation was because they were making a last ditch effort to do right by everyone else, and take responsibility for their mistakes.  It was at this point that they mustered up the last bit of kindness and courage they still had in their heart.

But the loss of a given part is only one half of the equation, which begs the question: with what sentiment will Barbata give Phos their replacements?  Barbata has subtly given off the impression that he feels guilty about his role in the various atrocities the Lunarians have undertaken, and is disillusioned with Aechmea, but is as of yet unwilling to actually go against him.  If there’s ever going to be a point in the story in which he decides to do the right thing instead of just following orders, it’s now or never.  I’m counting on you, pasta man.  Follow your conscience for once!  Either way, whether Phos’s reconstruction ends up being an act of kindness on Barbata’s part, or simply another expression of Aechmea’s corruption is, in my opinion, a crucial distinction that will have ramifications for the future of Phos’s character arc.  Speaking of which, it now seems like Red Diamond is the most likely candidate for a replacement, since Padparadscha is busy being asleep on earth.

I’ve talked about how a character’s eyeballs and where they got them from symbolizes their worldview, broadly speaking.  This chapter seems to be a continuation of that.  Kongou shaped the gems’ worldview, which is symbolized by him giving them their eyes, Cairngorm’s devotion to Aechmea is accompanied by them adopting eyes that Aechmea made for them, during the time that Phos was trying to balance the needs of both the gems and the Lunarians, they had an eye from both Kongou and Aechmea, and now that Phos only has the single pearl eye left, they’re thinking with a one-track mind from a distinctly Lunarian perspective: that everything that gets in the way of their salvation needs to die.

I also find it interesting that Phos’s original material is mostly intact, and what they’ve lost are chunks of their legs and head.  It probably symbolizes something, but my brain is starting to leak out of my ears at this point, so I’m just going to remember it for later and see if the meaning becomes clearer in retrospect.

Regarding Phos’s alloy shaping itself into a lotus’s seedpod, my first reaction was that it was a rather ambivalent symbol to use in the context of Phos’s downfall.  On one hand, the seedpod only appears when the highly symbolic flower dies, but on the other hand, while the flower is the part of the plant to which a number of cultures have ascribed auspicious meanings like purity and renewal, it is the humble, unsightly seedpod that goes about the actual business of rebirth.  

But, as @rinboz pointed out in a post on the subject, it appears to be specifically evoking the image of an empty seedpod.  If that’s what Ichikawa is going for, then the meaning is unambiguously ominous, to put it mildly.

Lastly, I brought up in my previous essay that it was highly convenient that Phos happened to trip off the table at the last possible second, and in a manner so noisy that it woke the other gems, no less.  In this chapter, Phos lays the blame for their failure on the earth gems interfering… but that only happened because Phos made a racket.  I speculated that they may have subconsciously sabotaged themselves—it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.  I don’t know how likely that possibility is, but I think it’s one worth keeping in mind.

Well, that was heavy. But on a lighter note, I think it may be time for me to update the only good meta I’ve ever written, birdseki no kuni.  What should Phos 4.0 be?  I think this feral demigod of vengeance ought to be represented by a real apeshit bird, like an Australian magpie, or something.  This will require further deliberation.

[wlw-imagines-blog]

Just Good Business (Modern!Peggy Carter x Modern!Fem!Reader)

Anon asked: Hi love! First, thank you so much for the Peggy shot... my heart it's so happy... second, can I pick numbers 1, 2 & 7 from the PROMP list #1, with Peggy, but Modern Life!AU? bc my queer ass needs modern Life Peggy Carter... Thanks love

Prompts:

1 - “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

2 - “Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry”

7 -  “I hate how much I love you”

Summary: Corporate/CEO au, This is less fluff, more angst and heartache. Ex-lovers fall in love.

Warnings: Some behavior alluding to dom/sub themes, ambiguous ending. 

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Thank you for the lovely comment! This is hornier than I expected, sorry.

Corporate galas were always the worst. Hosting them was a special punishment.

Wearing tight dress clothes and slicking every hair down, just to schmooze a bunch of greedy business men with too-realistic hair and too-orange spray tans. This wasn’t your forte, but necessary evil if you wanted your company to stay current and work with other businesses.

The room was filled with the thick scent of perfume and alcohol. Chatter and music flowed freely as you held court at your table near the front of the stage.

“Make sure to tell me when the Prince of Wakanda gets here,” you said to Peter, one of your personal assistants. “I want to be the first one to greet him. Stephen Strange said he was going to be late, so don’t give him a hard time at the door. And someone make sure Tony Stark never sees Justin Hammer; I don’t want either of them to make a scene.”

“Don’t worry,” Pepper Potts was seated to your left. She was going through the guest list, just like you. “I’ve already told Tony to behave tonight.”

You downed your cocktail. “I’m sure he will. Honestly, I’m more worried about Hammer.”

The whole table chuckled. 

“I can’t believe I want to leave my own party,” you whispered to your executive assistant, Natasha. “I must be doing something wrong.”

She frowned, looking at your now empty glass. “I can get you another drink, but that’s about all I can do to help.”

You shrugged, gesturing to keep the cocktails coming. At least the drinks dulled the pain.

Just as she disappeared, Peter got your attention. “Ma’am? We have a bit of a problem.” He pressed a finger to his ear piece. “Wanda requested your presence at the front door. There’s some sort of issue with the guest list.”

“What do you mean, Mr. Parker?”

“Um, someone is asking for you.”

You raised an eyebrow before standing. “Alright. Fine. Tell Miss Romanoff where I am.”

You maneuvered around dancing couples and astonishingly drunk men to the entrance of the ballroom. Clint, the head of your security detail was standing back while Wanda stared wide eye at the trouble-causing guest.

“What seems to be the problem, Miss Maximoff?”

She looked up from her tablet, clearly frazzled. “Ma’am, there’s someone here, claiming that they’re suppose to be on the list, but I have no record of them, whatsoever...”

You turned to look at the offender, eyes widening when you recognized her.

Margaret Carter. 

Peggy. 

Owner of some massive airline over the sea, heiress, and millionaire. A fashion icon, and icon for entrepreneurial women everywhere.

You swallowed, hands suddenly clammy.

Peggy’s eyes bore into you, raking hungrily over your form. Her luxuriously red lips twisted into a smile. 

“It’s okay, Wanda,” you were embarrassed at how shaky your voice was. “She’s with me.”

“Ma’am?” Wanda blinked uncertainly.

Clint rested a hand on your shoulder. “Is everything okay, Miss Y/L/N?”

You nodded, managing an effortless smile. “I’m fine, Barton. Let her through.”

Peggy glided by, long red dress floating around her. It was slinky and off the shoulder, with a long slit that revealed a slender leg. She hadn’t changed a day. Her hair was still dark and perfectly curled, no wrinkles or crows feet. Still infuriatingly effortless, and graceful beyond belief. 

She offered you a delicate smile. “Hello, doll. Long time, no see.” Peggy extended her hand, palm down.

You regarded it for a few seconds, before acquiescing. Taking it, you brushed your lips against her hand. You released it just as quickly. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Peggy, I’m glad you found your way. here.”

She laughed richly, and you could feel your chest flutter. You beat that down quickly. “Can I find you a place to sit? Anything to drink?”

“Sounds lovely. Lead the way.” 

You brought her to your table, subtly shooing away your personal assistants. They scattered as Peggy sat down. 

Question upon question swirled in your head, but each felt coarse and juvenile. Where have you been? What happened? Why did you leave me? 

“What would you like to drink?” Was what came out instead.

“A Manhattan,” she responded. “Bourbon instead of rye.”

You snapped to get Peter’s attention when Peggy reached out, hand on your knee. “No, Y/N. I want you to get it.”

The muscle in your jaw tightened. Peggy always had a talent in stoking the angry fire in your belly. You closed your eyes before holding up a hand to stop Peter from making his way over. His eyebrows furrowed, but he stayed away.

It took strength to look at Peggy. “What are you doing here, Margret? Were you feeling nostalgic? Do you just want toy with me like you use to?”

“No,” the look in her eye had shifted from playful to serious. “I came here to apologize.”

“What?” you shifted in your seat. “Why?”

Peggy shook her head. “You were always so suspicious, Y/N.”

“Only with you. And only with good reason,” You crossed your arms, praying that the low blow still hurt.

All she did was smile. 

“We’re better off as friends, Peg.”

Peggy caught your wrist, gentle smile still gracing her face. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” She whispered into your ear.

You recoiled, chest suddenly tight, mouth unbelievably dry. “Peggy... I can’t change the decisions you made. You didn’t want the commitment, so you went back to your golden castle on the hill. You left me.”

“And I’m admitting it was a terrible choice.”

“Then why did you make it?” You jerked your wrist away. Your skin was hit where she touched you. 

“I was pulling you in too quickly... we were making decisions too fast... I was I was scared.”

You scoffed. “You’re not an easy one to scare, Miss Carter.”

“I know, Y/N, just, hear me out. Please?”

“I’ll need something to drink first,” you muttered, rising. You stalked to the bar before Peggy could stop you.

“A Manhattan with bourbon, and a Martini, dry.” The bartender nodded and set to work.

“She’s definitely not on the guest list,” Natasha hummed, startling you.

“We’re did you come from?” 

“The front desk. Wanda caught me up on everything.”

You sighed. “I know what you’re going to say...”

“She needs to leave, before this gets messy.”

“I know, I’m working on it.” 

Natasha nodded, mouth in a thin line. “I know you are. Do you need any help?”

“No, just make sure everyone steers clear of my table. Give me some time.” You massaged your temples.

She squeezed your arm in assurance before disappearing into the crowd.

You took the two drinks back to the table, shooting a humorless smile to Peter and Wanda who were watching anxiously. Natasha came by and scolded them back into work. 

Sitting down, you placed the Manhattan in front of Peggy. “Okay. Shoot.”

She grinned. “You really haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

“I resent that statement.”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I love you?” 

“No, not really.”

“I do, Y/N. I always have. Everyday I think about what I should have done, and how I should have stayed here, with you,” She touched your hand. “I know how much pain I caused you. And you must think I’m an absolute prick for coming here and putting my heart on the table for you.”

“I do.” You said without malice.

She smiled. “I respect that, Miss Y/L/N.”

“So what?” you were confused. “Do you want us so get back together and pretend like you didn’t disappear for three years? I can’t do that, Peggy, I simply do not have the time.”

“That’s not what I want,” she leaned in as a throng of people passed by the table. “I want to be around you again. I miss the way you laugh and command a room. Or how you speak your mind and use to let me in.”

“I hate how much I love you,” you choked out, teeth grit, chest tight once more. “Do you know that I’m a completely different person, Peg? Three years of solitude really does that to a girl. You might not like me anymore.”

She reached up and stroked your cheek. “At least let me get to know you again.”

The tears caught you by surprise, blurring your vision before you could stop them.

“Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry,” Peggy said, wiping away the moisture. 

You looked away, batting at her hand. “I only ever cry when you’re in town, Peg.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Come on,’ you stood, sniffing. “Let’s get out of here. We have a lot to talk about.”

“But, this is your event, don’t you have to stay?”

You shrugged, offering your hand. “Natasha’s more than capable of running this circus. Please, let’s just go somewhere. I want to go.”

Peggy nodded, gently taking your hand. You moved to pull her, but she stopped you. She delicately raised it and brushed her lips against your knuckles. A soft smile made its way to your lips.

“Let’s go.”