#i was so close to dropping by the store to go buy that sad frog plush i want so bad 😭😭 but sjfjdjeks

[elegyofthemoon]

logging o7

• felt a lot better today, mostly thanks to me pushing myself to respond to friends today rather than keeping to self. talking w friends about other things made things a lot better

• ACTUALLY clearing all the crap i had to do from my whiteboard and having it be empty feels so freeing i love it sm.

• bought some snacks for the final week and also went to this small boba shop and 😭😭😭 they apparently switched to using cute kitty covers for the cups i was bawling when i got my order like ?? 😭😭😭🥺🥺 this is so adorable ahhh

• recycling old oc again for some story and getting excited bc ive had this story a bit on a backburner for a bit so fjjfdjd

• started packing up more of my stuff since i was doing laundry and emptying out the place which feels nice bc its also CLEANINGGG but also. going home soon :) happy.

● FINISHED ALL OF KAFKAS TRACES YAAAY her build is at least good enough for me and ive been having a lot of fun playing as her !! but now am probably building misha bc fixated on lore lmao

● I finished chapter 15 for honkai and that was half painful because not players characters but trial characters and also i cannot play durandal shes kinda tough for me to use 😭 (<- me who only ever really uses fu hua units or rita KFHDJJD). BUT !!! it was a good time :] ch 15 was good

overall!! a much much better day than yesterday. but have to be sure to make myself go sleepy early so i dont get Pissy again 🫡

[marauds-x]

Broken Promises pt.2

read part 1 first, angst to fluff, readers house is unspecified, time skip from gof to ootp

harry potter x fem! reader, mentioned cedric diggory x fem! reader

It had been a few months since your boyfriends death. Everyone comforted you as much as they could but to no avail would you really speak. The people who tried to cheer you up always failed. That being said, your friend Amora had gathered a few friends of yours to go into town for a shopping trip.

Four people were there, including you. Your good friends Michael Katlins, Amora Winsburrow, and Ottoline Marvella. You were all inside Honeydukes, buying a few treats and talking with each other.

And although you were with your friends, you couldn't help but feel a bit sorrowful as you saw a couple holding hands, smiling at each other. Since Cedric's death, a few people had tried hitting you up, figuring they could be a "shoulder to cry on." You didn't need that, though, you just wanted somebody that understood you and how you felt.

Walking over to a pink wrapped candy, you take it from the table and eye it, seeing a small unicorn run around on the wrapper. A figure bumps into you, making you drop the candy. Kneeling down to grab it, the person who bumped into you, now identified as Harry Potter, grabbed the candy and gave it to you, a small smile on his face. "Hey, y/n."

To be frank, you had always found him and his scar a bit cute. So now seeing him in front of you, towering a bit over you, you couldn't help but smile back. "Hi, Harry. Are you here with your friends?" He hummed back, nodding his head to the right, an annoyed Hermione snatching a chocolate frog away from a confused Ron.

"Well, i'm here with a few of my friends, too. Though, I wanted to go to another store. They dragged me here." You say, now looking over to your friends as they laugh. "Would you like to go to the book shop with me? I've been meaning to grab a book from there."

"Yeah, that- that'd be great. I've actually been meaning to talk to you, too.. about- about Cedric." Your smile faltered, a sad look replacing it. "Um, yeah, sure. What about?" You both made your way out of Honeydukes, heading to the library.

"Do you miss him?" He asked you. You nodded your head gently, moving your arms to hold yourself. As the weather ran cold, you began to wish you had brought a jacket to wear atop your thin sweater.

"Yeah.. I miss him a lot, actually. People keep- keep telling me that it's been so long, that I have to get over it. I don't think they get it, though." You looked at Harry, his hair blowing lightly in the Fall wind.

"What about you? I know you guys weren't as close as others, but do you miss him, too?" He smiled, "You're right. We weren't as close as he was with his friends, or with you. But I miss him. I always feel like I caused it. Like if I did one thing different then maybe he'd still be here." You had made it to the book shop, walking in and being comforted by the warmth and scent of parchment and dimly lit candles everywhere. You find a corner near the fantasy section, sitting down.

"I believe you, by the way." He gave you a confused look. "About him being back." At that, he gave you a smile, looking into your eyes as if you two were the only ones who really understood what happened that day. "You don't have to, of course.. but tell me. Tell me everything that happened in the maze. What did it look like, what did he look like." You scooted just a bit closer to Harry, a small smile plastered on your face. The light of a soy candle lit the corner up, the scent of vanilla flowing from the wick.

You two talked for hours, seemingly about anything. He explained to you what had happened in the maze. He had said he told you because you "deserve to know." You had cried a little bit, you both had. You two shared the mutual connection of just knowing that you two would be the only ones to ever understand the feeling. The feeling of not knowing what to do. The feeling of seeing Cedric's lifeless body on the floor beside you, crying and holding him.

You two were the only ones to ever see. To see him so up close on that field.

It had reached near forty minutes until curfew at the castle. You two stood up, Harry helping you stand. "It was nice talking to you, Harry. I feel.. happy that we spoke." He hummed in response, smiling and opening the door to the library as you two left. Even though you hadn't gotten the book you wanted, you still felt accomplished with the day.

"How will we explain to our friends we ran off together without them assuming things." You said to Harry, smiling and laughing. You hadn't realized how cold it was going to be today, now slightly shivering. "Are you cold, y/n?" Harry asked you, taking his hoodie off and waiting for your response. You nodded your head, accepting the hoodie he had in his hand. "Thanks, I hadn't realized how cold it had gotten."

"It's no problem, really. Though, do you really think our friends will assume something?" Harry asked playfully, you two now on the lit up bridge that connects the town and castle. "Definitely. Amora will be bugging me ALL day tomorrow. And from what I know, Ron won't stop bugging you either." You say smiling, almost to the castle now.

"Well, if he does ask what we did, i'll say we snuck off on a date." He said, nudging you slightly and chuckling as you scoff. "Are you asking me out, Potter?" "Maybe." He mumbled to himself, looking at you.

"Well, if you are.. I accept." Harry looked at you, a shocked look on his face. "Well- well you don't HAVE to say yes. I mean it doesn't even have to be a date! We could totally just go to Hogsmade as friends and laugh and be totally friendly! But we couldalsodoitasadate, too." You laughed as he jumbled his words together. "Yes, Harry, I'll go on a date with you." You said, giggling mid sentence.

"Really, okay!" He said, a nervous look on his face. "I had a good time talking to you, today, Harry." You said, looking down at your shoes, small puddles of water from last nights storm everywhere.

You had made it inside the castle, now beside your house dormitory. You take Harry's hoodie off, handing it to him. "No, no. You can keep it, I have loads of other hoodies." He said, smiling. You nod your head, a small smile bestowed on your face. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harry." With that, you head into your common room, happy with how the day had gone.

-

a/n: sorry i didn't post pt.2 sooner 😭 i've been pretty busy with life in general and stuff. though i will be posting more often, lmk if you'd like to be tagged in official posts 🤍

[ppersonna]

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

��� summary-  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks​ and @hongism​ for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.  

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. 

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily. 

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.  

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it. 

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water. 

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk. 

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.” 

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo. 

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?” 

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above. 

“You call Jimin a prince?” 

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband. 

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.” 

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.” 

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own. 

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.” 

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.” 

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid. 

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom. 

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed. 

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it. 

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can. 

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone. 

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway. 

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk. 

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read. 

He just matched with YOU. 

His best friend. 

His secret, lifelong crush. 

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it. 

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen. 

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other. 

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message. 

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend. 

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone. 

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion. 

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff. 

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband. 

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line. 

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend. 

“It’s nothing!” 

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.” 

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off. 

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly. 

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures. 

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen. 

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. 

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is. 

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork. 

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you. 

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause. 

“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner. 

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours. 

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own. 

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to. 

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator. 

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze. 

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”  

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face. 

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light 

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”  

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others. 

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too. 

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth. 

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm. 

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing. 

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it. 

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face  down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck. 

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes. 

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently. 

“And I promise to never run away from you again.” 

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself. 

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again. 

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with. 

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing. 

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss. 

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours. 

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly. 

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed. 

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?” 

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited. 

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle  his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs. 

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more. 

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.” 

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable. 

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan. 

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water. 

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently. 

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue. 

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue. 

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully. 

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.” 

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body). 

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are. 

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down. 

“Still dreaming?” 

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire. 

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes. 

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart. 

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout. 

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?” 

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug. 

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing. 

“I plan to find out everything.” 

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.” 

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss. 

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you. 

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.” 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body. 

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.  

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands. 

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.” 

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation. 

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off. 

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air. 

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt. 

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation. 

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion. 

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship. 

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister. 

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

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[laviethepooh]

amusement park | ayato x reader

summary. you and ayato go on a date at the amusement park

ft. ayato x gn! reader

cw. modern!au, high school ayato and reader

wc. 0.5k

notes. aaaa i was sad because i was hoping to go to korea last summer with friends and family but obviously the pandemic hit :(( so i’m writing with the hope that i can go next summer or during my senior year. i dunno if i wrote for ayato very well and i’m not sure if i got down his character correctly, so let me know how i can improve since i want to write for him more :D

when ayato learned that he had a day off (somehow), he had asked you if you could join him in going to the amusement park. you had known that your boyfriend was constantly under stress from being head of the student council, but now that he was able to relax, it was like watching a kid in a candy store. he always had his many sides that he’d show to people: his mature side to the rest of the school, his playful side to his friends, and his reliable side to his sister. but when he was with you, an unexpected cutesy side came out.

ayato was so ecstatic to come to an amusement park, but he had no clue what couples normally did. you had suggested to buy some matching headbands and he quickly bought two frog headbands for each of you. admittedly, it was strange seeing something so childish on ayato’s head, but it was oddly perfect for him despite the fact that he was still wearing his school uniform.

the two of you had spent most of the day going on numerous rides. ayato had been dragging you from one line to another and riding some of the roller coasters several times. he had been laughing while riding the drop rides and the spinning rides and hadn’t gotten sick unlike the other people you saw once you had gotten off of the ride. ayato’s adrenaline high was evident by his excitement to go over and over again and you had to drag him away saying that there were other rides.

ayato had been interested in trying to beat the high score for a strength tester after a man with white hair and red highlights wearing had bragged about getting the latest high score. ayato calmly paid for it and hit the puck as hard as he could. he tried to maintain a composed face as he watched the number increase and eventually flash with the words “new high score!” but you noticed ayato’s slight smirk when the white-haired man’s jaw dropped. he won a large teddy bear doll and had given it to you.

however, this was not the only prize that he won as he constantly won the largest prizes at every booth. unsurprisingly, he was good at every game, and you were given one plushie after another. at one point, there were simply too many for you to carry so you and ayato gave them to young children whose faces would glow with glee.

right before the sun started setting and you and ayato finished going on all of the rides and trying all of the games, you got on the ferris wheel. after all, what better way was there to end the trip than by going on the ferris wheel as the sky started to glitter in shades of pink and orange? as you watched the view from outside the window, the two of you sat side by side in comfortable silence. the kiss that you shared was sweet like the cotton candy you had enjoyed earlier.

although the day eventually would eventually have to come to a close and ayato would have to go back to being busy every day with school, you held onto that saccharine moment.

[leggomylino]

A Floral Memoir | Yang Jeongin

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- 

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

Genre: Nostalgic, drama, bittersweet, angst, fluff ending

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x fem!reader

Au: Flower shop au, friends to lovers au

Word Count: ~3.9k

Warning(s): None! c:

A/N: This was supposed to just be a blurb/timestamp but I’ve been heavily influenced by fictional prose from my Fiction 101 class so...this happened. :D | Masterlist linked down below and in bio!!! <3 | For Nana, who loves Yang Jeongin; and, for all the wonderful writers of @skzwriternet​. Thank you all for being so supportive and kind. God bless. 🎔

Tag List: @hanniiesuckle17​ @distrikt9​ @hanstagrams​ @hyunsunq​ @smolboiseavey​ @jisungsjheekies​ @iluvlix​ @moonlit-han​ @stay-nctzen​ @yangomangos​ @stayndays​ @cotccotc​ @skzctnightnight​ @multi-stan-present​ @dreamy-dreamies​ @yunhoesss​ (If you’d like to be added, please let me know! Comment, ask, or DM me!!! ^^)

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

There’s this flower shop down the road from your house that you’re used to going to. It’s one of those hole-in-the-wall places, the kind that never stand out unless you’re actively looking for them. The brick’s chipped, covered in vines, and the sign out front is hanging by a stem, the slanted posture threatening to drop dead over the next teenager that pursues vandalism; still, to you it’s never unrecognizable, no matter how many years of wear-and-tear or lost du jour go by. To you, it’s the most beautiful place in the world: not for what is shown on the outside, but for what lies there within. What it stands for, represents.

This is the local flower shop of 129 Poppy Close Lane. And it is the place you grew up in, blooming alongside Yang Jeongin.

Jeongin had been your best friend growing up. The two of you did almost everything together: ride bikes, watch movies, play in the park. Feed the ducks, hop around like frogs, climb trees. Hide in your mother’s laundry basket in order to jump out and scare the daylights out of her-- which only backfired once when she nearly had a heart attack-- to which you vowed never to do ever again. Instead, the two of you set your sights on the neighbor’s son, a boy of roughly similar age named Kim Seungmin. But that always seemed to backfire as well. Kim Seungmin was simply too smart.

The day Innie’s parents-- that was your nickname for him, sometimes I.N.-- the day his parents announced they’d be buying out a crumbling furniture store, the two of you had been so excited. Think of all the beds you could jump on! All the sofas to tackle! The pillow fights! The two of you could make the largest blanket fort in the history of blanket fortresses!!! 

...Instead, those dreams were crushed like petals pressed between pages. You weren’t getting a mattress playground; they were opening a flower store.

A flower store? But aren’t flowers free? Don’t they grow outside? The two of you prodded and pestered Jeongin’s parents until they ran out of answers to give, and instead only replied with “you’ll see” and “just wait.” But if there was one thing the two of you hated doing, it was waiting. Why did you have to? Wait for what?

...Time flies when you eventually forget about the thing it is you have to wait around for, too occupied curling toes beneath blankets by a roaring fire or towering blocks into Lego houses. After a few days of lazing around with Jeongin at your house and a short afternoon bike ride through the park, at last the shop of flowers was revealed to you. And it...was…

...Okay. Colorful, vibrant, definitely eye-catching, at least back in those just-starting-out days. But you still didn’t get it at the tender age of ten. Of course you’d heard of flower stores before, but the point escaped you. Couldn’t you just grow your own for free? Couldn’t you just ride to the park and take some from the woods? Why would you sell something you could obtain for free? Who would waste their allowance on that?

Jeongin was different. You remember looking over at him, standing to your right, and seeing his face alive and bursting with more color than the shopfront. The way his eyes sparkled as he took it all in, the pride that seemed to blossom in his smile and the way he carried himself. Straight, tall, and happy, just like the sunflowers waving outside the window. It was off-putting to say the least, but you felt gratified just watching him elate and gush his excitement. So you upheld that same excitement, too.

Years went by of the two of you hanging out in that place; Little Fox Flowers, it was called. Appropriately named for the son of the two owners who spent their days happily snipping away sadness and making the lives of all its customers just a bit brighter. A place where all the local college-bound kids would apply for part-time jobs in order to live out their novel fantasies, hoping for a quiet place to smell the roses after a long day of notetaking and hide behind the hollyhock to study.

They were always kindly denied. After all, the shop was a family business: just Mr. and Mrs. Yang, Jeongin, and you, who had been considered the daughter they never had since you were six. And, eventually, Kim Seungmin, who won everyone over with cake and the “look-at-how-responsible-I-am” presentation. He was responsible, no one could deny: the way he’d always turn you and Jeongin in before you could commence danger-inducing experiments.

And then, at fourteen, it was the three of you. You got paid, of course-- just scarcely minimum wage, but that was alright, because Mr. and Mrs. Yang always bought you lunch or dinner every other Friday. And the mean apple pie and best empanadas baked by the kind elderly couple who worked just across the street was to die for. (A side note: you’d find out two years later this was the place Kim Seungmin got his cake recipe from in exchange for helping fix a leaky faucet. The devious scoundrel.) The three of you worked and worked and studied and worked, spending perhaps too much time learning the wildest things about each other, things you were surprised you never knew of Jeongin, things you’d never guess about Kim Seungmin (you didn’t refer to him as just Seungmin until you were sixteen).

Jeongin was a fan of rock music. Kim Seungmin enjoyed more than a good book and ratting out his neighbors. Jeongin actually studied flowers in his free time, more than just what he learned passively working in a floral shop. Kim Seungmin was actually a prankster himself.

They learned things about you as well: how you preferred sunrises to sunsets, how you collected music boxes, how you kept a diary the two of them would never get to read, and now that they knew about it, were no longer or henceforth ever allowed in your room. This brought joy and laughter the color of fresh-sprung poppies to their faces...and a curious tint of rosehip to the cheeks of Yang Jeongin.

You distinctly remember the way he stared at you, two seconds too long before he looked away, to the flower arrangement before him, a smile never leaving his face. Spooked, you buried yourself back behind the front desk, occasionally peeking at his reflection through the storefront window.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

At seventeen you’re all sweating bullets over SATs and TCIs and ACTs and every other stress-fueled test that exists in the better education realm. The three of you are taking turns quizzing each other and flicking foreheads or slapping wrists after getting an answer wrong. When the owners announce they’re heading home to finish up errands and get dinner started, you take turns in the final few store hours managing the front desk: two cramming backstage, one holding the reins out front. It’s in solitude that Seungmin tells you he’s decided to go to Harvard University, and possibly Yale if he finishes with a 4.1 GPA. At this you want to smack him, but at the same time, tell him not to go. It wouldn’t break your heart to see him go, but what’s wrong with your local university? Or a university just an hour out of town?

He tells you it’s something he’s always wanted, and heartily decided, so you take his hand in yours and wish him the best. It’s not a problem; Harvard and Yale aren’t too far away. 

The real problem arises when they switch, and with Seungmin running the front desk and helping late-blooming customers, it’s Jeongin who tells you he won’t be going to college at all. “I’ve decided to travel,” he says. “I want to explore new cultures. I want to hear other kinds of music. I want to see other types of flowers.”

At this, you deadpan. Blink a few times, just to make sure that registered. “You...want to leave the country?”

“It’ll sort of be like studying abroad-- hey, maybe that’s what I’ll do. Study abroad. I’ll be able to see lots of things that way. There’s a program that can accept me right away if I apply before midnight.”

“Jeongin…”

You frown. You can’t help it. Jeongin? Leaving you behind? You aren’t about to lose both of your best friends; especially not Jeongin, who to you was Innie, I.N., the boy with the messy black hair and slightly bad attitude, and many other things. 

His stare says everything for him, his smile drooping like perennial flowers. “You don’t like the idea.”

It’s not a question; it’s a statement. “That’s not true. I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to.”

He gets up, leaving the room. There’s an odd sense of finality as he exits.

“...I’m gonna see if Seungmin needs any help.”

“......”

You wince a little, even today, recalling the way he soft-slammed the back door. It was the last time you saw him, for the span of three long years.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

It goes by too fast. Before you know it, you’ve reached the big two-O. Twenty is that odd age where you’re not sure about anything. Are you an adult? Are you still a kid? What age group do you fit into? What are you even doing with your life?

You’d chosen to major in botanical science. The flowers of the shop had ended up placing their roots into you. And being the sentimental gal that you were, you could never find yourself tearing away from your roots-- it was how flowers wilted and died. 

So when Yang Jeongin reappeared on the shop porch one morning, looking fresh as a daisy, you could hardly believe your eyes. He must have been put in one heck of a vase of Miracle Grow and holy water to have survived away from the garden for so long. At first, you’re ecstatic to see him-- at first. But then you remember what he did to you: the way he just walked out of the breakroom, clocking out without you noticing, not answering your texts, ignoring your calls, only to find out the next day he’s insanely hopped onto the morning train and booked a flight for Beijing. Part of a study program, his parents said. Very last minute, they explained. We’re so sorry, they lamented.

The only means of contact you’d received were a cloying box of exotic chocolates and a note from Jeongin that first year, along with a music box you couldn’t bring yourself to ever listen to. It ended up thrown into your closet, shadowed in a great tub with all the other ones. The note said something along the lines of an apology and explained he’d lost his phone during a boat ride that first week, and the strict program he was enrolled in didn’t allow him to contact friends; only immediate family. He’d had to lie to his advisors and tell them you were his adopted sister, which you suppose wouldn’t have been a lie once upon a time. After that, you’d only get an awkward “Jeongin says hello,” from his parents, who felt just as uncomfortable about the estranged situation. They’d assure you he was doing well and just going through a phase. He was angry. He acted irrationally, just the one time. They knew how important this was to him. He’d come back around, he really cared for you, after all.

Seeing him now made your head spin. You had to grip the cash register nailed into the hardwood so you wouldn’t fall over. “You’re...You’re back. You’re here. In the shop.”

He dropped his bags near the front door as if the place was his second home. Just like it always had been. “I’m back. Here. In the shop,” he repeated, an urgent longing in his actions.

The smile he wore never left his face as he rushed over to you...then paused, fearfully, his hands frozen in an awkward state of half-reaching and half-retreating. 

“Y/n…” He sighed, his breath a multitude of years lost. “...I’m sorry. I have no right to walk in here like nothing happened. You have every right to be angry. Are you angry?”

That was a good question. Were you angry? You should have been. You had every right to be, just like he said. This may have been his family’s store, but it was your second home, too, and you may as well have been a part of the family; you had every right ignore him or tell him to get out, to scream and demand answers, or even to cry and weep like the weeping willow tree out back.

Instead, you felt nothing. And everything. It was too much, so much strange emotion and Twilight Zone madness packed into a single punch that you smiled and simply replied, “I’m fine. How can I help you today?”

It came out sounding like you were the one asking for help. Jeongin seemed to catch wind of this too, distressed eyes staring into yours as if seeking a hidden entrance through the new roadblock to your mind. For the longest time, the two of you didn’t say anything.

Things got really awkward when Seungmin showed up on one of his monthly visits-- he ended up going to Harvard, but he still visited you every month and bothered to keep in touch-- and sensing the tension after a surprised gasp of excitement, uncomfortably shuffled to the back of the room with the excuse he’d get to work on the shop’s monthly revenue, assisting with the finances as part of his accountant training (a side gig to his major in criminal law). What resulted with the silent clicking of the door was the clicking of your own. 

You clocked out, texting Seungmin the location of the shop’s spare key and asking him to do you this one favor. Then to meet you downtown for a slice. As you swung onto the Vespa your parents had given you on your nineteen birthday, you observed Jeongin, in the shop’s reflection, through the rearview mirror, as he stood there, absorbing and deploring his loss.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

It’s now midday, a few months later, and you haven’t seen or spoken to Yang Jeongin since. Even if he did live down the street, in your mind he’d been cast from the garden, turned into fertilizing soil. He hadn’t tried to contact you since, and neither had you found yourself hovering over the call option, only to toss the phone away with an agitated moan. You didn’t know how to overcome the foreign distance between you two, or at least you hadn’t...until today.

Today, well, you still didn’t really know how to go about it. But despite your temporary closure to any and all things Yang Jeongin, you did a lot of thinking about that day, when he’d just shown up out of nowhere, sprouting like the happiest weed on the planet, fearfully trying to patch things up. It wasn’t forced or out of pity or selfish guilt. It was as true as the blue roses you’ve had to convince more than a few customers were not spray-painted or artificially made. Jeongin had made a big, unlike-Jeongin mistake, one lasting far too long, but it was still the first (and last; you’d be sure of that). There had to be more to the story than what appeared above the ground. 

You should never judge a rose for its petals, Mrs. Yang once told you. It may still be blooming.  

You’re parking your bike in its usual place in front of the store, locking it to the bike rack Mr. Yang had installed-- your Vespa got destroyed while letting Seungmin take it for a joyride-- and you push open the familiar glass door, the sweet chime of the old silver bell singing overhead. Jeongin looks up at you from around a middle-aged man at the register, his voice falling an octave late.

“Welcome i-- ...n.”

It’s that same awkward tension all over again, but you try to smile through it, for friendship’s sake. After holding open the door for the parting customer, you make sure the door is locked before nervously wringing your hands halfway to the counter.

Jeongin takes your actions in alarm, bracing himself against the register as you had just a few months prior. Funny how times change. “...What’s going on? What are you gonna do?”

...As if you were going to rob or beat him. You’d thought about doing so with one of the giant sunflowers, three month before, but would never risk harm to the flower. “I…” A sigh. “...Can we talk?”

There’s an arrangement waiting for pickup or delivery sitting at the edge of the counter. Jeongin stares intently at the wooden space before casting his gaze to the flowers. He lifts them, crossing the bouquet over his face to the other side. You’re not entirely sure what he’s doing until he hands the bundle to you. “I can’t leave the shop right now...could you make this delivery for me? The address is on the tag.”

“......” You accept the bouquet awkwardly. “...Uh, yeah, sure.”

“I’ll clock you in, so you get paid.”

“No...don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

He nods, slowly, just barely managing an unstable means of eye contact. “...Thanks.”

And so you walk out of the store, unlocking the door and hopping onto the shop’s delivery vehicle. It’s more a less like a Vespa, just older and a bit outdated. Securing the flowers in the protective shell container (a basket with a clear, wind-resistant lid), you snapped on the helmet and started the engine, making a hard right into the street. 

It occurs to you as you're driving that you didn’t bother to look at the address in your haste to escape an uncomfortable situation gone wrong. So much for talking things out and tackling your problems head-on. That really worked out well. You squint beneath the afternoon glare reflecting off the lid, but the address is written so tiny and messily you have to pull over and open the basket in order to get a better look.

279 Blueberry Street.

You just about dropped those flowers, gripping them a bit too tight so that a few stray thorns poked your fingers. 279 Blueberry Street was...well. 

It was Jeongin’s address.

...You had no idea what was going on, but intuition told you it was something fishy, something planned and arranged just as carefully as this cliché arrangement of red roses and baby’s breath. Typical and predictable, just like the old Yang Jeongin.

You’d bite. You drove the scooter across town and into your neighborhood, parking in the drive behind Mr. Yang’s Nissan. You remember taking many car trips around town and into neighboring cities in the backseat, Jeongin at your side, dropping fries and Cheerios and frozen yogurt all over the protective mats and onto each other. With a frustrated huff, you scurry to the front porch.

Maybe this is a crazy coincidence. Maybe Mr. Yang ordered flowers for his wife. Maybe Mrs. Yang got flowers for her husband. Maybe they both ordered them for Jeongin, as part of a gift to commemorate something you were once, for the first time in your life, unaware of. Or maybe you’d read the address wrong. Maybe it was Bluebell Street or Bellberry Street or something entirely different, and you were delusionally tripping because, hah, what else had been new over the course of the past few months...few years. Maybe...maybe--

A warm light envelops you as the door swings open, and you’re instantly hit with the nostalgic scent of fresh lavender and spring-time strawberries. The candles that Mrs. Yang loves to buy.

Jeongin’s eyes are strained, but there’s a new warmth about them that feels familiar. Like a withered blossom sprouting back to life. He’s no longer dressed in his work apron and usual uniform; instead he’s freshly showered, wearing Church clothes, his dark hair still wet and tangled to a messy frame around his face. There’s a comb stuck to the back of his head, and following your stare he removes it with a sheepish chuckle, tossing it somewhere towards the living room and attempting to tame wild curls in a more presentable manner. He smiles, tenderly.

“You made it...I was worried you’d think it was a mean joke.”

“Well…” You consider. “I almost did. But there are infinite possibilities out there, right?”

His smile blooms. Taking the smallest rose, he checks it for thorns before tucking it behind your ear. “Yeah,” he says, “There definitely are. Come in, please...there’s a lot of things I need to apologize for. Starting with the whole disappearing for three years and...yeah.”

You supplement his cringe with a frown, then thinking about the ridiculous letter, imagine him beneath flickering candlelight, frantically scrawling down a horrifically worded letter in secrecy. You think about him in Barcelona nervously pacing between bustling touristy streets and getting lost or ripped off and wanting to scream at the stupidity of his actions and lack of Spanish. You imagine him in a woodshop in Berlin, flipping through a dictionary and pointing to words he can’t begin to pronounce and the amount of frustration cooked up from having to go through five woodsmiths until he found one that spoke just a bit of a broken language he understood, and the funny game of Pictionary that probably followed. 

You laugh, shoving his shoulder on the way in and hurrying into the kitchen for a vase. After placing the display on the counter, you grab his collar, kissing his cheek. 

His face burns the shade of chrysanthemums, wide eyes wondering what it was he did to deserve such a reaction. To you, he had more or less abandoned you, after all.

But you know better. You’ve known Yang Jeongin since you were five years old; when he knocked over a bottle of glue onto your summer dress after trying to hand you the paper flower he’d made. When things seem bad, they’re never personally intended. They’re never what they really seem. And you should have remembered that, too.

He spins you around now, and the two of you laugh, laughter echoing down the cream-colored halls all the way to the back garden. Back to a simpler time; a time when the two of you were just kids, pushing each other on the big oak swing and tackling each other in mud, smiling amongst the flowers.

There’s this flower shop down the road from your house that you’re used to going to. It’s one of those hole-in-the-wall places, the kind that never stand out unless you’re actively looking for them. The brick’s chipped, it’s covered in vines, and the sign out front is hanging by a stem. 

It’s the place where you and Yang Jeongin reside, never again apart, for the rest of your days. ✿

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

[edisonstolemyheart]

Secret Solstice Santa

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays @itsbrindleybinch! I hope you enjoy your gift, it was so lovely to receive your letter and was great fun writing this! Thank you to @andi-the-cat for organising this! Rating: Fluff Word Count: 1982

  “Ok, let me try and get this straight.” Zeph held up his hands and stepped towards Freya, the rest of the Pend Pals looking just as confused as he does. “We each write down our name and put them inside this box,” Freya nods. “And we then pick a name and buy that person a present?”

“Without telling anyone who you picked, yes!” She chuckles as she hands around small slips of paper, watching as everyone scribbles their names and drops the paper into the box. After a vigorous shake, she passes the box back around and lets everyone grab a name.

“So we just buy this person a gift?” Atlas frowns at the paper in her hands, scrunching it up and shoving it deep into her pocket. “Sounds easy.”

“Nothing too expensive, remember, just a small something you think they’ll like. And we can swap them all tomorrow at movie night!” The Sun Att is practically glowing with excitement. “I’m going to Penn Square now; I’ll see you all later!”

The Pend Pals split in different directions, Beckett waiting until everyone had disappeared to lace his fingers through Freya’s.

“May I join you?” He gently pressed his lips to her temple, revelling at the pink blush that graced her cheeks - every time he kisses her, without fail. She nods, allowing him to open a portal that they both step through, feeling the warmth of Penn Square surrounding them.

“Do you know what you’re going to buy?” She nudged him gently, squeezing his hand.

“I… have had a few thoughts,” he frowns slightly, “These Attuneless traditions are fascinating, yet beyond me.” Beckett smiled ruefully, smoothing his blazer out of habit. “…Freya?”

He turns to Freya, her attention focused entirely on a store a few doors down from Maison D’Yew. Beckett examines the window display she’s staring so intently at, rows upon rows of glowing lights, lamps, and holograms. His mouth opens to speak before immediately closing it again, not even knowing what to say.

“Wait here.” His shopping companion drops his hand before dashing to the store, not even giving his brain time to catch up. He rocks on his feet for a few moments before a market stall catches his own eye. Freya would find him when she was finished.

He trailed his finger across the stacks of Muse records, occasionally flicking them out to read the front.

‘Perfect for the Earth Att, this Muse offers a grounding boost of energy to the adventurous!’

Beckett smiled to himself, paying for the Muse and tucking it under his arm, wrapped in a golden tissue to disguise the gift. Maybe there wasn’t much to this ‘Secret Santa’ thing after all.

His purchase was well timed, as Freya reappeared from the store, carrying a gift bag stuffed with black paper. She beamed at him, reconnecting their hands, and raising an eyebrow at the square under his arm.

“Did you find what you needed, darling?” Beckett murmured into her red hair, breathing in the delicate scent. Freya hummed happily in response, hugging his arm close to her, blushing again at the pet name. She tilted her head up to him, and their lips almost touched before they were interrupted by-

“Gross. Get a room.” Atlas appeared behind them, playfully elbowing Freya in the side. “Whose name did you two get?” She prodded at the bag in her twin’s hand before swiftly receiving an elbow to her own side.

“The whole point is not to tell anyone! Are you here to get your present?”

“S’pose so.” Atlas shrugged, looking around the square. “Don’t have a clue what it is yet though.”

Freya looked from her twin to Beckett. “You go on ahead,” she brought his hand upwards and softly brushed her lips against the palm of his hand. Atlas gagged silently and pointedly turned her back. “I’ll stay and help Atlas find something appropriate.”

Beckett’s hand traced the side of her cheek and lightly ran his fingers through her soft hair. Upon receiving a look from Atlas, he blushed and took a step backwards, clearing his throat quietly.

“Yes…” He trailed off, reddening further at Freya’s giggle and Atlas’s raised eyebrow. “I- I’ll head back now then.” A portal quickly opened, and he was gone.

Freya turned to her sister with a grin. “You need to stop doing that to him.”

“Never.” Atlas broke into an almost-smile of her own. “Not until you two stop doing that first.”

The redhead rolled her eyes and linked their arms. Atlas sighed and allowed the contact, secretly enjoying the closeness she had been without for so long.

“So,” Freya pulls Atlas into step beside her. “I’m hoping you have some idea on where to start looking.”

Atlas made a face. “Not really,” she tips her head backwards and huffs, “Was just gonna grab whatever works.”

Her twin stops and pulls her around to face her. “What’s up? You’re never usually in a mood like this.” Freya asks, her voice laced with concern, eyes sad. Atlas shrugged, looking downcast.

“I just… I want it to be right, you know?” She shook her head gently, allowing her silver hair to obscure her face. “I’ve never done something like this, with… with friends. I can’t mess it up.”

Freya brightened instantly. “Then I know you’ll find something amazing. I know that my present is perfect,” She tucked Atlas’s hair back and grinned competitively, “And I know you won’t stop looking until you manage to find something even more perfect than mine.”

Atlas froze for a moment, before the smile she was fighting back broke through. She dragged her sister into a fast walk towards a boutique on a quiet street. “You’re gonna be so jealous of my gift-giving skills.” The twins laughed, Atlas leading them into the cluttered store and breaking their arms apart. “Get lost. I’m going to find the best present now.”

“Liar.” Freya ran to the far end of the store. “I’m going to find you the best present, and then you’ll have to tell everyone that it was actually my idea!”

“You don’t even know who I’m buying for!” Atlas called back, digging through a rack of jewellery.

Freya popped her head around the corner and held up a… yeah, Atlas had no idea what that was. She stared incredulously at her sister.

“It’s a…” Freya frowned and grabbed the label hanging off the item. “Gorgue home intrusion detection system!’ Atlas shook her head at the hideous frog-shaped lump.

“See, this is why I’m going to find the best gift,” Atlas thumbed through a collection of necklaces, her eyes lighting up as she read through the labels. “Go look at the stuffed toys or something.”

Freya pouted at her sister, turning away to fiddle with the ears of an Arylu toy. When her back was turned, Atlas grabbed a bundle from the table and quickly paid, stuffing the item in her pocket. Freya noticed the quick movement and gasped in mock offence, Atlas simply smirking and leaving the store.

Outside, Freya looped their arms back together, bumping her head against Atlas’s shoulder. Her twin smiled and pulled them back towards the college, the sun just beginning to set in the sky.

  The following evening, the Pend Pals gathered in the Roost for a Christmas movie evening, another insistence from Freya. A small pile of presents rested on the floor, only to be opened after at least one movie had been watched. Zeph sat on the floor, throwing snacks for Atlas to catch in her mouth. Aster and Griffin chatted animatedly about his scholarship, and Beckett watched with a raised eyebrow as Shreya examined each of the secret parcels.

It was the perfect setting for a night of happiness and friendship, Freya thought, as she smiled around the room.

The group sat through the movie, Aster and Zeph pestering Freya with questions and Shreya critiquing the film for its lack of ‘real magick’ and how ‘Solstice makes more sense’. The instant the end credits appeared, Atlas jumped up from her seat and almost threw herself upon the gift pile, using air magick to throw them into the ceiling as she searched for her own. Zeph counteracted her small tornado and dragged the presents back down to the ground, receiving a punch to the shoulder and a scowl from Atlas.

Beckett sighed and picked up the presents, checking the labels and passing them around. Tissue flew around the room as the group tore into their gifts, eager to see the contents and find their mystery giver.

“What is it?” Aster beamed at Zeph, holding her present in her hands.

“First off, how did you know it was me?” Zeph pouted. Aster held up the label on the gift, scrawled writing saying ‘Aster! Merry Christmas and Happy Solstice! Love-’ Zeph’s name could be seen scribbled out before being replaced with a string of questions marks.

Atlas snorted, and Zeph sent a pile of gift wrap flying into her face. He turned to Aster and grabbed the black orb from her hands, shaking it.

“It’s an Attuneless fortune teller! You ask it a question and it predicts the future… kind of. There’s no actual magick involved though. Am I the greatest friend ever?” He stopped shaking the ball and held it out.

‘Signs point to no.’

Aster wrapped Zeph in a tight hug and took the orb. “It must have been wrong that time, because I love it! I can’t wait to tell the saplings about Attuneless magick!”

Across the room, Griffin pulled Beckett into a one-armed hug, the Muse tucked under his other arm. Beckett held back a grimace and allowed the embrace, soon pulling back and adjusting his blazer, hiding a small, self-satisfied smile.

Freya turned to watch as Atlas unwrapped her present, holding the moon-shaped object in her hand. She leant against her sister’s shoulder, and tapped the top of the ball, watching as it lit up in a perfect image of the moon in the sky and projected stars across the room.

“This is the exact position the stars were in on the night we were born,” Freya smiled at Atlas, spinning the moon around in her hands. “The moon is so you never forget who you are, and the stars so you never forget who _we _are. Where we came from.”

Atlas stared at the glowing moon, and bit her lower lip. She nudged her twin gently with her shoulder and smiled, not saying a word for fear her voice would betray how emotional the gift had made her. She blinked a few times, and rubbed her eyes.

“Forgive the intrusion, but by process of elimination, you must be the one to have given me my gift.” Beckett appeared next to Atlas, who quickly returned to her usual demeanour.

“Yeah,” She shrugged, looking at the pair of necklaces in Beckett’s hand. “You two love all that mushy stuff.” She walked away to pour herself a drink, leaving Beckett and Freya alone.

“What are they?” Freya lifted one out of Beckett’s palm, turning it over to examine the glowing centre.

“They’re separation charms. Two people share a set and when you’re apart and thinking of each other, they glow.” Beckett took the necklace back from Freya and clasped it behind her neck. “I hope we’re never apart for too long, but should it happen, this way you’ll know I’m always thinking of you.” He put on his own and tucked it beneath his shirt.

Freya linked their hands together, resting her head on his shoulder and watching the rest of her friends laugh and joke across the room. Suddenly, she perked her head up with a small frown on her face.

Beckett turned to her. “Is everything alright? You look annoyed about something.”

Freya shook her head slightly.

“I think Atlas may have just won Secret Santa.”

[artificialqueens]

Green-Eyed Monsters and Other Demons (Branjie) -- athena2

A/N: This is a continuation of my vampire verse, based on a prompt from @gradtones, who requested a fic with a jealous ex of Brooke’s. I was so happy to write in this verse again, even if it took me a while to get back into it. (Part 1 Here and Part 2 Here). With that said, three thousand thank you’s to Writ. This fic was a bit of a trainwreck when it started, but you helped me see how to fix it. I don’t think I could’ve finished this without your help.

Please leave some feedback if you’d like, I really appreciate it!

*This does have some minor injury and mentions/descriptions of an unhealthy past relationship*

—

Brooke never thought she’d have one date with a vampire, let alone three whole months of them. But then again, most things with Vanessa are different from what she thought they’d be like.

She never thought she’d be able to tolerate the sheer chaos of Vanessa’s apartment, not even batting an eyelash when one of her roommates runs through the kitchen carrying a frog wearing a plastic crown. She never thought she’d have someone to laugh at movies with, someone to share a bed with. And she never thought she’d be in a thrift shop helping Vanessa find the single strangest item in the store to win a game with her roommates.

“How about these?” Brooke holds up a pair of Shrek slippers.

Vanessa snatches the slippers and holds them to her chest. “These ain’t weird, Brooke, these are a treasure. I’m wearing these in bed tonight.”

“Christ.”

They continue to browse through the store, Vanessa rambling about her day. Even when Brooke can’t see Vanessa, she knows she’s there, not just because of her loud volume but also because of the presence she has, calming Brooke all the while.

Vanessa squeals across the store, and Brooke goes running.

“We got it, Brooke! Let’s see Yvie and her mug of Captain Hook and Peter Pan making out beat this.”

Brooke has to blink several times just to take in the hand-sewn sweater vest with grainy tigers all over the fabric.

“Okay, that’s gotta win. I wish I could burn my eyes out after seeing that,” Brooke says.

Vanessa buys the vest and the slippers Brooke regrets showing her. Brooke’s heart nearly stops when she sees the woman walking in.

Shit. Shit. She needs to hide, she needs to—

“Brooke?”

“Yeah. Hi.”

Brooke forces herself to look at the black hair and cold eyes of the woman she used to let kiss her. Brooke wishes she could scrub those touches off her skin, wipe every memory from her mind.

“How are you?” Brooke is sure she’s not asking because she cares, but because she wants to see if Brooke is suffering without her.

“Fine.”

“Is that your girlfriend?”

Shit.

Though the sheer fact of having Vanessa as her girlfriend makes Brooke want to explode with happiness, she doesn’t want the two of them seeing each other. Vanessa is kind and warm and happy and brings impossible joy to Brooke’s life. Brooke doesn’t want Vanessa seeing the woman who had been a storm cloud over Brooke for months, who sucked all the joy out of her. She doesn’t want Amy poisoning Vanessa too. Brooke doesn’t need the woman she loves more than anything meeting them woman who had never loved her in the first place.

There’s also the issue of keeping Vanessa safe. Amy can recognize the signs of a vampire just as well as Brooke, and she can’t let anything happen to Vanessa.

“She is.”

“Brooke, let’s go, we gotta go home and have our Marvel marathon,” Vanessa says, bounding over to Brooke’s side.

“You still watch those baby movies?” Amy sneers.

Brooke stiffens, heat running up her neck, those words carrying an old embarrassment with them. Brooke knows there’s nothing wrong with the movies she likes, but it had always been like this with Amy, and it brings back doubts Brooke has pushed out the past two years, doubts making her question everything she likes, everything she does. It could be that cocky grin Amy has, the mocking tone always aimed at Brooke. Or maybe somehow, somewhere inside, Brooke still cares what Amy thinks, still wants to prove her wrong, that every mean thing she ever said to Brooke was wrong.

She feels Vanessa’s body tense, her hand closing around Brooke’s wrist in comfort. Brooke’s not sure which one of them she’s comforting, and it’s another reason she didn’t want Vanessa to meet Amy. She doesn’t want Vanessa to see how upset Amy makes her, doesn’t want to dig up old wounds. She knows she’s not, but she doesn’t want to seem weak in front of Vanessa, sweating just because of her ex-girlfriend.

“Who exactly are you?” Vanessa demands. Her usual charm and humor have gone out the window, replaced with a frigid bite in her words, stance defensive. “Besides someone with a bad perm that shoulda been left in the 70’s with those bootcut pants.”

“Let’s say Brooke and I used to be intimately acquainted.” She glares daggers at both of them.

Brooke finds herself shrinking under that glare, just like she used to. She remembers that glare when Amy would criticize her clothes, when she told her to stop worrying already, that she needed to get over things. How she acted so superior when Brooke got excited over superhero movies, said she needed to grow up or things were over. No. Brooke’s not doing this anymore. She stands tall, drawing back to her full height, delighting in being taller than Amy.

Brooke won’t feel bad for liking the movies she likes, for wanting to wear plain black clothes. She’s not letting Amy have that power over her anymore, not going to put on clothes that made her uncomfortable or try to act cool and uncaring like Amy, when Brooke just wanted to be excited and passionate.

She can sense Vanessa getting ready to launch herself across the store, legs bouncing with anger. As much as she’d like to let Vanessa loose, it’s better if they can just get out of here, let the whole thing fade, like it never happened.

“We need to go,” Brooke says quickly, almost pulling Vanessa out of the store, hoping she did it before Amy figures out what Vanessa is, before Vanessa gets suspicious of things.

She gets behind the wheel and finds that she hasn’t taken a complete breath since she saw Amy, air flooding for lungs as she erases Amy’s pointing fingers and mean smirks from her mind.

“Who was that?” Vanessa asks, and Brooke’s heart tenses. She hadn’t been quick enough, hadn’t hidden how upset she was, and now Vanessa knows something is up. She can read the tension in Brooke, her muscles tightening in familiar response to Amy’s voice.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Brooke—”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” It comes out harsher than she means it to, and she wishes she could take it back at Vanessa’s sad face, the pain in her eyes. She’s no better than Amy, making Vanessa feel like this, and it’s not something she wants anyone to experience.

“Okay, okay.”

Vanessa is quiet for the rest of the ride, and the silence is more painful than screaming.

When Brooke doesn’t sleep that night, she blames it on the Shrek slippers rubbing against her, but she knows that isn’t true.

—

It’s a quiet breakfast the next morning. Vanessa is never quiet, and it makes Brooke’s already-sore muscles clench even further.

“Are you okay?” Brooke asks, shifting in her chair. She gives up on eating, her appetite suddenly ruined.

“Me? I’m fine.” Vanessa stabs at her egg, eating without another word.

Brooke knows deep down it’s because of yesterday. She still regrets the way she snapped at Vanessa, the way she was distracted all night, unable to bring herself to cheer and laugh along with Vanessa during Captain Marvel. She wonders what Vanessa is thinking, if she’s still hurt from how Brooke had yelled, if she already has her own ideas on who Amy is and why she made Brooke act like that.

Brooke wonders if she should just tell Vanessa about her ex-girlfriend, about why the meeting in the thrift store made Brooke shut down and had ruined the whole night. But she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, doesn’t want to make anything of it, really. Brooke has been trying to forget her ex for two years now, and she doesn’t want to get back into it. It’s easier if she can let it stay buried, forget how Amy would embarrass her in front of their friends, how she made Brooke feel like nothing.

She just hopes things with Vanessa are okay. But judging from the vicious way she slurps her orange juice, they might need to talk soon.

Brooke’s mind is on another planet when she hunts that night, clutching her stake for dear life as she almost loses a few fights. She’s dropped down to hunting just three nights a week now, and it’s more of a stakeout, making sure no humans are in danger. Being with Vanessa has changed some of her views on vampires, but there are still bad ones out there, and Brooke has to keep people safe from them. She’s usually laser-focused, but she calls it quits early tonight.

Two vampires got away, and she winds up with a cut on her arm and more bruises than usual. She’s lucky it isn’t worse, considering how unfocused she is, how she can’t concentrate on anything other than her ex.

“Want me to do that?” Vanessa asks, appearing in the bathroom. She must have woken when Brooke knocked over the first aid kit in her struggle to bandage her right arm with her left hand.

“I got it.” Brooke has never asked for help. But it had never been offered to her, either. She’s always just dealt with injuries herself. She even knew how to give herself stitches. It’s her own fault she got hurt anyway, that’s what Amy always said.

“Let me do it,” Vanessa insists, taking the gauze out of Brooke’s hand. She’s calm and gentle, her coldness from the morning gone. “You lucky you got this antiseptic cream stuff. Back in my day, people just poured whiskey on it. Stung like a bitch. Come to think of it, they used whiskey for everything. Infection? Whiskey. Cold and flu? Whiskey.”

Brooke snorts as Vanessa spreads the cream on her arm. “You sound like a boomer.”

Vanessa swats her shoulder. “Hell, I remember when they started doing flu shots. Before that, you drank whiskey or you were shit outta luck.”

“Okay, boomer.” Brooke smiles as Vanessa wraps her arm up, and all she can think is that it’s 1am and Vanessa is up taking care of her, acting like it’s nothing, even after their tense breakfast. No one has ever done this for her, ever cared this much, Brooke often bandaging herself and popping a painkiller to numb her aching body before collapsing into bed alone. It’s a nice feeling, to be cared for, and maybe Brooke can get used to it. Maybe it’s okay to ask for help, to let someone else share the burden.

“Thank you,” Brooke says, placing her hand on Vanessa’s arm in the hopes it shows how much this means to Brooke.

“Yeah, of course,” Vanessa says nonchalantly. “You need anything else?”

Brooke shakes her head. “Just sleep.”

Vanessa’s hands make their way to Brooke’s shoulders after Brooke sinks into the mattress with a groan. Her cool hands rub away the tension Brooke has been carrying since she was 18, worsened now with the words she can’t say to Vanessa, words that make her burn with anger.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?” Vanessa asks in worry. “Your muscles are really tight.”

“M’fine,” Brooke mumbles, Vanessa’s touch bringing on a calm sense of peace that inches Brooke towards sleep.

Vanessa presses a soft kiss to her neck. “Sleep. You need it.”

Brooke is asleep before Vanessa’s lips leave her skin.

—

A few weeks pass, and Vanessa doesn’t bring up that day in the thrift store again, so Brooke leaves it alone. There’s definitely something unspoken between them, some sort of chill or pointed stare whenever they look at the vest Vanessa bought. Vanessa cancels on two dates at the last minute, and her touches seem hesitant, kisses reluctant. But they’re managing.

Brooke is hoping things are fine, despite the unease she’s felt, the way she’s been doubting whether she’s good enough every time she looks in the mirror. But she’s managing. She hasn’t seen her ex in two years, and maybe it was just a one-time thing. Nothing to worry about.

Until Brooke’s hunt–though it’s more of a patrol now, really, watching from the trees to make sure no vampires attack a group of teenagers having a party in the woods.

Her body has been grateful for the lessened nights and decreased fighting. She even gets more sleep now with Vanessa in her bed, sometimes nine whole hours on her off nights. Vanessa makes the bed cozier with her presence, even when she kicks Brooke half the night, and even though she can’t sprawl out with her long limbs everywhere anymore, she loves getting to see Vanessa first thing in the morning.

This is her last patrol of the week, and she’s about to pack up when a flicker of movement in the woods draws her attention. Brooke inches toward the trees, crossbow ready.

“How the hell could you leave me for one of those monsters?” A person demands as they come out of the woods, and Brooke’s heart sinks as Amy appears.

“They have more of a heart than you do,” Brooke says quietly.

“Funny,” she snarls. “Brooke Lynn Hytes, Little Miss Rule-Follower, going out with a vampire? Do you know the trouble I could get you in?”

Brooke’s hand tightens on her bow, palms sweaty at the thought of any trouble not only for her, but for Vanessa as well. She’s never had another person to worry about, never had someone she would do anything to protect. Her heart clenches in fear, but it’s also comforting–powerful, even–to know she has someone she cares that much about.

“You can’t do anything,” Brooke says. “Or did you forget that the Guild kicked you out after–”

“Oh, fuck them. I can still hunt even without them backing me. And you know, I bet they’d take me back if I bring in the last of the Mateo clan.” She spits. “I’ll be on the lookout for Miss Mateo. She’s hard to miss, with that mouth.”

All Brooke can see is Vanessa being hurt, her smooth skin covered in blood, her loud laugh silenced. She thinks of Vanessa no longer curling around her in their bed, no longer taping up memes in her kitchen, no longer taking in stray dogs and helping them get homes or helping people get medical care. She thinks of the person she tried so long to get over, to forget, taking away the person who makes her life better, who gives Brooke the real love she is deserving of, and the anger explodes in her. Vanessa is too kind, too pure, and she doesn’t deserve even an ounce of pain.

Brooke slams Amy into a tree, rage blocking all out her senses. “If you even touch her, I swear–”

“Swear what?” she mocks. “You don’t harm humans, B.”

“I’ll make an exception,” she says fiercely. Her blood boils beneath her skin, body pulsing with the urge to tear apart whoever she needs to in order to keep Vanessa safe. “Stay away from her.” She shoves Amy on the ground, delighting in her wince.

“We’ll see,” she says before disappearing into the woods.

She has to warn Vanessa. Brooke’s heart is still pounding, mind racing with all the terrible things that could happen to Vanessa.

Brooke tears through the city to Vanessa’s apartment. Even through her fear, she smiles at the memory of Vanessa making fun of her slow driving on their first date and wonders what she would say now.

Brooke opens the door and immediately senses something wrong. There’s always some kind of noise in the house—Silky trying to sing, Yvie watching conspiracy videos on YouTube, A’keria and Vanessa blasting music. But it’s silent as a tomb, the air thick with disappointment, making the usually cheerful kitchen, with its bright memes and newly-added disco ball centerpiece on the table, seem eerie and wrong.

“Vanessa?” she calls, stepping inside with her hand tight around her stake, heart speeding back up just after she got it to calm down.

“You were with that woman again,” Vanessa says, and Brooke can hear the pain in her voice.

“Vanessa, please let me explain,” Brooke begins, heart breaking when Vanessa steps back from her.

“The game was tonight,” Vanessa says. “You never showed up, never answered your phone. And I can smell her on you.”

The thrift store game? That wasn’t tonight, Brooke knows it’s tomorrow, she had worked her hunting around it…no, it isSaturday, she realizes. She’s been mixing up days lately, even forgot one of her weapons hunting last week, her entire mind shaken like a snow globe since that day she saw Amy.

“I’m sorry, Ness, just please let me explain. Please,” she begs. She can’t lose Vanessa, she doesn’t want to see those tears in her eyes or that heartbroken look on her face. She doesn’t want Vanessa to be hurt, ever, and the fact that she’s the one hurting her almost brings tears to Brooke’s eyes.

“Do it,” Vanessa says, crossing her arms.

Brooke takes a deep breath, wondering where to start. “The woman you saw is my ex-girlfriend. She–”

“Are you still in love with her or something?” Vanessa demands, hands jabbing angrily. “Is that why you keep meeting her?”

“No. No. It’s nothing like that. Please,” she says, putting her stake back in its holster and raising her hands in surrender to Vanessa. “Please let me keep explaining.”

Vanessa nods.

“She’s my ex, but she…I don’t really know where to start. We were together for two months. I didn’t love her or anything. To tell you the truth, I don’t even know if I really liked her. We never talked about personal stuff, or feelings or anything. I just…I never thought anyone would love me, so I went out with her.” Brooke looks down in shame at how she had been so desperate to have someone that she went out with an asshole who didn’t even like her. “I thought she cared about me, but she didn’t. I was the top hunter, and she wanted my status.”

Vanessa’s eyes widen, her expression softening.

Brooke bites her lip. “It was small stuff that tipped me off about how she felt. That tore us apart. She made fun of the movies I wanted to watch. She’d leave messes because she knew it bothered me. She’d say mean things about me in front of people, and I just pretended they were funny, but they weren’t.” She pauses, all the things she had moved past and forgotten coming back and hitting her in the face, her body burning with anger. Brooke can remember how small she felt, like she wasn’t worth anything, when Amy would tease her. “We always had to do what she wanted, and she wanted us both to be the top hunters. She was always pushing us to hunt more. We’d go every night, and I was exhausted and miserable, but I wanted to keep people safe. I thought that’s what she wanted too.”

“You don’t have to keep going,” Vanessa says, a soothing hand on her shoulder, any previous anger gone.

Brooke shakes her head. “I want to.” She takes another breath. “So, one night, we found this group of vampires in an old barn. Amy wanted to burn the place down to kill them, so we could get the glory. But I told her it was too risky, in case humans were inside. She said she didn’t care about them.”

Vanessa gasps, and Brooke nods grimly.

“She lit the place up even though I said not to, and the fire got out of control. But there was a kid inside. I could hear her screaming and I knew it was a human. So I went inside to get her. The barn collapsed, part of it fell on me, but I got the kid out okay.” Vanessa squeezes her shoulder. “I broke three ribs and had some lung damage. I was in the hospital for a week. I ended things with Amy, and she was kicked out of the Guild,” Brooke finishes.

Brooke can still recall that week, the scratchy hospital blanket, how each breath set her lungs on fire and made her wince, and the satisfaction when her shaking voice told Amy it was over. Then Amy walked out of the hospital room after trying to suck up some glory for herself, and Brooke realized she was relieved to be free of it all, relieved not to have to put up with Amy anymore and pretend things were fine in front of other people.

“Holy shit, Brooke,” Vanessa mutters. “You’re like a damn superhero.” She pulls Brooke into a hug, Brooke safe and secure in her arms. “I’m sorry she did that to you. And I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“It’s okay.” Brooke buries her face in the top of Vanessa’s head, breathing in her coconut shampoo. “I should’ve been honest with you from the start.”

“I just got really jealous when I saw you with her. But I get why you didn’t want to talk about it. And I love you, and I know you love me.”

“I love you too,” Brooke whispers. It’s their first I love you, and it’s just three words, but they warm Brooke’s whole body and cement Vanessa’s love in her, let her know she has someone who really does love her now. That she never has to live the way she used to again.

Vanessa stretches up and kisses her, soft and tender and real, nothing like the showy kisses with Amy.

Brooke pulls back with a gasp, remembering what she came here for. She can’t let Vanessa get hurt, she can’t. “Vanessa, you have to be careful. She’s mad at me for getting her kicked out, and she knows who you are, and–”

“Shh,” Vanessa soothes. “I’ll be fine. We’re both gonna be fine. Besides, I lived through polio and shit and two Bushes being President. I can survive anything.”

Brooke laughs, and she carries Vanessa to the bedroom, her mind finally clear at last, thoughts full of Vanessa.

—

Brooke can’t sleep that night, despite Vanessa’s reassurance that she ‘ain’t afraid of nobody with can-I-speak-to-the-manager-hair’. She keeps tossing and turning, shivering a little because Vanessa is a blanket hog. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees something horrible happening to Vanessa; a stake in her heart or arrow in her chest.

Brooke doesn’t want to risk having a nightmare. Sometimes she thrashes around when she has them, and she doesn’t want to wake Vanessa. Brooke had woken up, gasping and sweating, after nightmares about her parents once or twice with Amy. She had always been pissed, banishing Brooke to the couch so her sleep wouldn’t be interrupted.

Brooke shuffles to the living room instead, some sickly-sweet cotton candy scent almost burning a hole in her nose. She’s only been on the couch for 10 minutes when Vanessa comes in after her.

“Brooke? Why are you on the couch?”

She considers lying but knows Vanessa will see through her. “Couldn’t sleep. I was afraid I was gonna have a nightmare and I didn’t want to keep you up,” Brooke says, lowering her head in embarrassment.

But Vanessa just looks at her with a deep kindness that makes Brooke melt.

“Nightmares can suck. Believe me, I know. But you come back to bed right now, okay? I don’t care if you start fucking yodeling in your sleep, I ain’t letting you stay on the couch. ‘Specially after Silky over-sprayed her perfume in here yesterday. It’ll fuck up your sinuses.”

Brooke snorts and gratefully accepts. She knows Vanessa would never make her feel bad for something like that, would never get mad at Brooke for waking her up.

Vanessa’s arms hold her extra tight that night, holding Brooke together as she drifts off.

—

She and Vanessa sinks back into their rhythm of movie nights and another round of the thrift store game with her roommates, A’keria taking top prize for a figure of Jesus riding a dinosaur. Brooke is happy things are normal again, but she can’t quite relax, can’t stop looking over her shoulder every time they go out.

When she suggests staying instead of going out for the third night in a row, Vanessa puts her foot down.

“Baby, we can’t live in fear forever,” she says.

“I know, I just…I don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t…” she trails off, her mind filling with images of Vanessa hurt again, while Brooke stands there, unable to help.

“Brooke,” Vanessa begins hesitantly, “I have an idea. It’ll keep us safe and get rid of your ex, but you’re not gonna like it.”

—

“This has to be the dumbest idea ever,” Brooke mutters, sitting down a bumpy log.

“That’s ‘cause you weren’t there when A’keria and Silky tried to ride down the stairs in a laundry basket,“ Vanessa retorts. “Yvie put little cardboard flames on the sides and everything.”

“The most shocking part of that statement is that the four of you actually own a laundry basket.”

Vanessa cackles loud enough to rustle the leaves.

“Quiet!” Brooke hisses. “Do you want someone to hear us?”

“That’s exactly what we want, baby, remember?”

Brooke sighs. “I still think this is too risky.”

“I know, but this is the best option–fuck!”

Brooke hears the arrow whiz past them both, swiping Vanessa’s arm and releasing a slow trickle of blood down her sleeve.

Brooke snaps up and throws herself in front of Vanessa, crossbow raised. An arrow lands in her thigh, Brooke hissing in pain, but she can’t feel it with her senses heightened, each thought only to protect Vanessa, stop anyone from hurting her.

Amy comes out of the shadows. “You must be losing your touch, B. Out in the open like this with that loudmouth.”

Brooke can feel Vanessa place a protective, calming hand on her back. “Don’t call me nicknames,” Brooke says, her finger on the bow-trigger. “You don’t get to call me anything after what you did.”

“After I set that barn on fire? Please. You’re the one that had to go save that dumb girl. It was your own fault.”

“I almost died!”

“Still your fault. Just leave them like I did. I’d still be in the Guild if you didn’t have to be a stupid hero.”

“You don’t deserve to be in the Guild,” Brooke says, trying to hide her nerves, waiting for Amy to take the bait dangling there.

“Neither do you, with the company you keep! I’ll show them. I’m gonna kill that vampire bitch of yours, and then I’ll be back in. And I can keep this dangling over your head, B, and I can do anything I want with you. Now, move, and let me kill your little girlfriend.”

Brooke steps back, Vanessa moving in unison with her. Amy follows, and Brooke holds her breath as she steps into place—

“What the hell?” The net swoops up from a tree and hoists her into the air.

“It worked,” Brooke mumbles. “It really worked.”

“I told you it would! You can’t doubt A’keria’s rope skills. I mean, she doesn’t usually use them for this–”

“We get it.” Brooke grins in relief, approaching the net to deliver the final blow.

“We have this on tape. You confessing to the fire, threatening me, threatening Vanessa, and blackmailing me,” Brooke begins. “Now you can leave and never come back. Or we release the records, and I let Vanessa get some revenge. She really wants it, as you can imagine.”

“I sure do.” Vanessa bares her fangs menacingly. “So you better leave and never bother me or Brooke again.”

Brooke grins as Amy realizes she’s caught, no way out of it. “Fine. But mark my words, B, you’ll get caught eventually. Even if it’s not by me.”

Vanessa slaps her across the face. “Girl, shut the fuck up. Your voice like nails on a chalkboard.”

They’re safe. They’re safe, and the enormous relief washes over Brooke, wiping out some of her adrenaline, and she groans as the throbbing pain in her thigh worsens.

“Let’s get you home, baby,” Vanessa says with worry. “Have fun gettin’ out of that net, bitch! It’s made of A’keria’s favorite sex knots.”

Brooke snorts, checking to make sure Vanessa is okay. Her wound has already stopped bleeding and Brooke breathes a little easier despite the arrow still stuck in her thigh. She eases into the passenger seat, taking a breath as Vanessa enters race car driving mode.

But she holds Vanessa’s hand over the console, quickly adjusting to the nauseating speed, and Brooke feels safe. Completely and utterly safe with someone she loves.

“I love you, Brooke,” Vanessa says.

“I love you too.”

Vanessa winks. “After we get your leg fixed up, if you’re up for it, maybe I’ll try out some of A’keria’s knots.”

Brooke’s heart skips a beat. “Oh, I’ll be up for it.”

[anuschkalova]

Simply and Sanely PART 6 (Jeremiah x Reader)

A/N: Things are heating up. Enjoy! Summary: Y/N gets in trouble and Jeremiah helps her. But little does she know that he drags her into more trouble, making Y/N a part of his plans. Forcing her to enter the dangerous life of Gotham’s underwolrd. Pairing: Jeremiah Valeska x Reader Word count: 3,457 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 🖤Masterlist🖤

Previously: A devious smile formed his lips as he looked down at the photograph of you leaving the strip club. „Gottcha.“ ___ The previous tenant of your apartment had chosen this dazzling shade of green for the hallway’s walls. It reminded you of a pop-eyed frog that had exploded and its remains got soaked in by the dry walls. The green color was sickening, but you endured it. The luxury of new white paint seemed unaffordable by checking your account balance. You needed to save the money. You opened the door of your apartment and sighed in relief at the sight of your hallway. God, you’ve never felt such gratefulness being able to see this ugly shade of green again. Suddenly, you found yourself on the floor, weeping bitterly.  All the horrible events and emotions overwhelmed you; witnessing death and being kidnapped felt like nightmares in the moment, but now - back in your own little world - they felt real. Too real. And there was no escape from it… You flinched as footsteps approached you. Camila, your neighbor, came to an halt at sight of your miserable state. She threw her hands in the air while scolding you in Spanish.  „Dios mío! De dónde…?“ „Not now, Camila. Please, por favor. I’m fine.“ You passed her with shaky knees and the middle-aged woman followed you to the bathroom. Her dark eyes glistened with anger and concern.  „Y/N, nina, explain! I was worried, you didn’t come home and police showed up…-“ A gleam of panic struck your exhausted body. You stared at Camila with widened eyes. „The police?“ „Sí. Two officers.“ You took a deep breath and splashed some cold water on your face. Camila started to talk again, asking you too many questions, so you pressed the mute button and disregarded her. You focused on your self-reflection on the mirror and lent it your voice. 

Two police officers were here. Why? Silly me, you knew it. The shooting at the ally… I’m a precious witness, they probably watched the records of the security cameras outside the club. Yeah, of course. That’s why. But what now? You bit on your lower lip as you avoided your own eye-contact. They will come back to question me, like Camila does now. But they will be stricter and won’t accept my silence. It will be tough. So what should I do? Jeremiah’s nerve-wracking smile popped up in your mind when he gave you the answer back in the car. He said I should tell the truth. He can’t be serious. Is he testing me? I need to tell the police about Martinez, but maybe that’s part of his plan? This maniac will kill me after I achieved my purpose, no doubt.I won’t be his puppet. I will find a way breaking free from his little game and saving Martinez. „Y/N!“ Camila placed her hand on your swollen cheek and you hissed. The pain brought you immediately back to reality.  „Did someone hit you? A man?“, she asked alarmed. Camila knew about your night-time job and how moody the drunken customers could get after some beer and whisky. Her daughter had known as well - she used to work as a stripper and prostitute in a seedy club down the street. She lived in her mother’s apartment above you and the arguments were very loud and heated. Until one night in March last year - it became all quiet. Just here and there you would hear the muffled sobs of a mother who had lost its only child. She was 22 years-old when a man had chocked her to death. Since then, Camila took care of you. „No. Just a jealous woman.“ You tried to soothe her worries with a fake smile, the best you could pull, but your weak attempt didn’t fool her. Before she could inspect your appearance any further, you hid in the room next door. Careful to shut the door quietly, you stepped closer to the bed and noticed the fresh tulips on the night table. Camila was truly an angel, you thought and reached out to gently touch your sister’s face. Her skin was almost as white as the bed sheets and it made you gulp. „Hey, I’m back“, you whispered, brushing some strains of hair out of her face. The beeping machines that kept your sister alive were the only audible response you got. They were running for two years now - since the day your beloved sister went into a coma. She looked so peaceful in her never-ending sleep, so calm and normal. During the daytime you’d imagine how she spent the night with her friends, hitting the club and drinking too many drinks, then sneaking into her room and sleeping tightly till afternoon, totally exhausted. During nighttime you’d imagine how she danced all day, or rode the bike to Gotham’s only park and took a nice long walk, petted some cute dogs, ate ice-cream and then came home before you’d arrive. She’d be so tired and wouldn’t wake up when you pressed a good-night kiss on her cheek.Those little fantasies comforted you and kept you going, regardless how sad it was. You would proof all the doctors wrong who gave up on you sister. You would work night after night in that hell of a strip club to earn the money for those life-sustaining machines.  You sat down on the chair next to the bed and heard something crackling in the pocket of your dress. You frowned and slid your hand inside to pull out some kinked dollar bills. „What the…“, you mumbled, but then remembered: It was the money you had stolen from the four men in the alley, the bastard who tried to rape you. 250 dollar. You harshly wiped the fresh tears away and walked back to the door. Now was not the time to cry. „Camila!“, you called out and the woman stormed towards you. You gave her 50 dollars. „Here, please buy her medicine.“ Camila took it and nodded. You squeezed her hand and thanked god for this caring woman before you rushed into your room. You took the black dress off and changed into more comfortable and neutral-colored clothes. It was time to visit an old friend.  ___ Thieves were not uncommon in Gotham and in fact a part of everyday life. Desperate scream like ‚Stop thief!‘ and ‚Help, I got robbed!‘ turned into basic background noises along with the honking cars and swishing helicopters. You stood by a kiosk when you witnessed one of those crimes. With your face deep in the hood of your jacket, you were looking into the distance at a well-dressed business man. He ordered a coffee and didn’t notice the stranger’s hand inside his back pocket. With his purse in her hands, Selina Kyle passed the man casually and entered an alley. You followed her and spotted her figure sitting on some fire stairs three meters above the ground. She smirked victoriously as she counted the money.  „A good catch?“, you made yourself noticeable and Selina raised her head, only to title if after a second. „Did you get lost?“, she asked back and you shook your head slightly. „I was looking for you.“  „I’m honored“, Selina said sarcastically and dropped the empty purse in front of your feet. You bit your lower lip while looking around for possible listeners. Selina noticed your uneasiness and climbed down effortlessly. Her moves always reminded you of a cat. And as one, she stared at you with her green observing eyes. „What’s wrong?“ You shoved a hand towards her, nodding reassuringly and watched her puzzled face turning into one with surprise after she took the money from you. „200 dollar“, you simply said. „For what?“ „I need a gun“, you said  and Selina raised her eyebrows. „For self-defense. You know where I work at and after all, this is Gotham“, you explained yourself, but Selina didn’t buy that. „Why not just go and buy one? There are plenty stores at every corner. After all, this is Gotham.“ There it was, the sassiness of a survivor.  „Too many cameras. Nobody needs to know.“ Selina narrowed her eyes. She was skeptical, for good reason. „Nobody or… a specific person?“ You sighed. Selina wasn’t stupid nor naive, she knew that something was off, you saw it in her eyes, but she was one of your friends and you couldn’t involve her any further into your problems. So you shrugged the hood off of your head and offered her a small smile.  „Please, Selina. I know I can rely on you and I need your help. You are one of the few people I trust the most“, you confessed and Selina scoffed as she considered your request. In the end, she gave in and buried the dollar bills deep in the pocket of her leather jacket. „Fine“, she mumbled. It took a load off your mind. „Thank you.“  ___ Oswald’s head snapped up when he heard someone walk into his office. „Victor“, he breathed and rushed a few steps towards the hitman. The bold man folded his hands in front of him as he stood there, smirking at the Penguin.  „Cut that stupid grin and tell me what you got!“, Oswald demanded, gripping his walking stick firmly. But Victor just passed him to pull out a chair, indicating Oswald to take a seat. The black-haired man fought against the urge to activate the hidden knife in his walking stick, but he obliged and sat down. „Well, Victor?“, he raised his chin and eyed him expectantly. Victor laid three photographs of Y/N on the table for Oswald to see. One where she left the strip club with the four men close behind. One by Jeremiah’s car in front of her apartment. And one showing Y/N and Selina together this afternoon.  Oswald took one photograph in his hand to take a closer look at the woman’s face. „Who is she?“ „Your free ticket to that maniac“, Victor answered at which Oswald got his full attention, so he continued: „This woman was involved in the shooting at the alley. He took her with him, dropped her by her apartment like a gentleman and right after that she met up with that kitten, gave her a lot of money.“ The Penguin brought his other hand to his mouth as he was deep in thought. His fingers tapped quickly against his lips. „You want me to bring that lady to you?“, Victor asked into the silence, but his boss raised his hand to hush him. „No. We don’t know her connection to Mr. Valeska. Bring me Selina instead.“ ___ The Wonderland’s strip club was always very crowded by the end of the week. It was Thursday night and you were inside the dressing room, applying make up for your soon to start show. The foundation had covered the redness of your cheek, but not the swelling. However, you didn’t care as the customers won’t look at your face during your performance. A hard knock at the door made you flinch. „Five minutes! Hurry up!“, someone called and you put the make up away, inspecting your attire in the mirror. You wore a breath of nothing, a black leather lingerie that barley covered the most important parts. The thong was connected to the bra via three straps and the material squeaked softly as you walked. It was sexy; a men’s dreams, but for you it was just work clothes. With slow and long steps, you moved on the stage. All eyes were on your body as you started you performance, swaying your hips to the music and teasingly circling the pole. Whistles and dirty compliments came from all directions and you forced a smirk on your red lips. You moved to the edge of the stage, kneeling down and playfully winking at the first row. The whistles got louder. You stood up and danced seductively, touching your curves the way all those shameless men would wish to. Your eyes wandered lazily around the dark club and you blinked, looking back where you’d spotted something off. There, at a table near the bar, Jeremiah sat quietly and dead still, unlike his conspecifics. His piercing green eyes followed your every movement and it made you shiver. Taken aback, you had stopped your performance and stared back at the fine dressed criminal. „Hey, keeping going, sugar!“, some men yelled and you continued. You turned your back to the audience and held the pole, wiggling your arse. The howling was deafening.  Why is he here? You glimpsed over your shoulder and searched for his table, but he was gone. Then, another stripper appeared on stage who pressed her lips to you ear. „You have to go backstage. There’s a man waiting for you“, she whispered and you nodded, leaving the stage.  You heart was bounding like a jackhammer as you walked along the back area, looking for this maniac’s devious smile. „Y/N L/N?“, a man that you were about to pass addressed you. „Yes?“, you responded unsure and stopped. He had a solid body language and a stern expression, but his eyes shimmered with relief at your confirmation. He didn’t look like your regular customers. He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a white shirt and grey tie, too formal for a little fun. „James Gordon, GCPD“, he introduced himself and offered you his hand. That’s when you noticed the police badge and gun on his belt. You licked your lips that became dry all of a sudden. „GCPD…?“, you repeated and took his hand, his grip was strong, but reserved. He nodded. „I’m sorry to bother you at… work.“ His eyes darted around in a appraising way and you mentally shared his dislike for this shithole. „But I need to ask you a few questions about an incident you have been involved in.“  There it was. Your fear came true. Acting settled and collected, you smiled politely and nodded. „Of course.“ „You may want to change in your regular clothes. The interview will take place at the GCPD’s Headquarters.“ ___ The interrogation room was cold and sparingly furnished with one metal table and two chairs. A small rectangular window was the only source of light along two lamps on the walls. The huge mirror next to you made you feel observed. You had no idea how many police officers had gathered behind it. 

Gordon sat opposite to you. He waited patiently until you felt comfortable enough to talk. You held a warm cup of black coffee in your hands and formed the sentences in your head.  „Are you ready?“, the GCPD captain asked with his voice low, careful not to yank you out of your thoughts. You met his eyes and took a sip of your coffee. „Yes.“ „Alright“, he said and coughed. „Tell me, what happened in the night of the shooting?“ And so you did. You told Gordon about the group of men that had molested you during your performance, how they chased you outside and that Jeremiah Valeska had shot them in order to help you. You mentioned the other men he killed, that Jeremiah used you to get away from the crime scene. „And then?“, Gordon who had listened very carefully asked. You’d noticed how his jaw tensed at the criminal’s name. You hesitated shortly before you continued: „And then he guided me to a dark alley where a car picked him up. That’s it.“ „And this was his farewell gift?“, he pointed at your injured cheek and you shook your head.  „Just a misunderstanding“, you lied. Gordon opened the file that laid the whole time next to him to read something.  „All three men have been robbed. I doubt that Mr. Valeska was after their money.“ Shit. Okay, this time you chose the truth. „I stole it“, you confessed. „My sister is very ill and I needed the money. You see, I don’t let myself be humiliated night after night because I like it.“ Gordon lowered his gaze and you believed to see some sympathy on his features. Just as you considered yourself on the safe side, he put a spoke in your wheel.  „Where were you yesterday?“ You fumbled with the tip of your hair to avoid Gordon’s eyes. „At home. I’m sorry I didn’t answer the door. I was too scared“, you mumbled and the man sighed. He leaned a little over the table. „Y/N, if you have any information about Jeremiah Valeska’s whereabouts then you need to tell me. Whatever it is you’re afraid of, I can help you.“ A shaky breath escaped your lips that you covered up with coughing. You wanted to tell him the truth, you really did, but you couldn’t.  „I have no idea where he is and that’s the truth.“ You stuck with your story and Gordon gave in. He nodded towards the mirror and stood up, making the chair screeching. He accompanied you to the door which he opened for you. You thanked him with a smile and took a step outside when Gordon grabbed your wrist. „Stay away from Jeremiah. He is dangerous and unpredictable“, he whispered and you stiffened. You hoped that he didn’t notice the twitch in your face, so you looked him straight in the eyes and lied right in the face of law. „I will.“ Gordon had no idea that you would break your promise within the next two minutes. In your defense, it wasn’t your intention. As soon as you stepped out of the GCPD building, a familiar car stood by the side of the road. You didn’t waste any time and got on, shutting the door way too hard. Jeremiah kept silent and seemed to ignore your presence. The driver pulled on the busy road. „You didn’t tell them about the boy. Why?“, Jeremiah asked monotonically while he adjusted his gloves. You turned towards him.  „You wanted me to tell the truth. You wanted the police to know about the boy… That’s part of your plan“, you hissed and he leaned his head back, studying your face. „I’m not your puppet. I won’t fulfill your insane plans.“ God, you would pat yourself on the back if you wouldn’t shake like a little baby. „I must admit, Y/N, that I feel hurt“, Jeremiah spoke slowly and bent over to you. „I thought my charm would be enough to persuade you.“ You didn’t flinch, even though his face was a few inches away. His breath ghosted over your skin and the craziness in his eyes seemed within reach. „What charm?“, you stroke back and raised an eyebrow. It was a risky move, but his arrogance literally asked for that. 

Your cockiness triggered something as Jeremiah’s lips curled into a wide smile, revealing his teeth.  You hoped that he didn’t see the goosebumps on your arms as he stared at your trembling lips. Suddenly, his hands crashed on your body, holding your waist tight and in place when you tried to jump up. His grin was gone, but his eyes were still fixed on your face. Panic began to build. „I’m really tempted to taste that little nasty tongue of yours“, Jeremiah growled lowly and his gloved nails dug into your flesh. You winced at the pain and clutched his west firmly, so hard that your knuckles turned white.Then, he started to approach you, slowly but surely to savor your horrified look. But when his hand glided on your tight, you lost it - and you spit on his face. Jeremiah pulled his head back and blinked a few times as some of your saliva had hit his eye. He wiped it away and let out a muffled chuckle while looking at your spit on his fingers. You were sure he would hit you, beat you into the hospital, but instead Jeremiah moved his hand to his mouth to lick off your saliva. You couldn’t believe it and stared at him closing his eyes in consumption. „Thanks for the foretaste“, he said and you shook your head. „You’re crazy, you’re…-“ A loud explosion interrupted you and you automatically ducked down. „What was that?!“, you yelled and looked out of the window hastily. You saw a huge cloud of black smoke hovering above Gotham. People were screaming and running away from the disaster.  „That is my foretaste“, Jeremiah said calmly and observed the chaos outside the car casually. „I blew up a library near Grant Park. I guess that 30 people died in that explosion. 30 people that would be alive if you hadn’t disobeyed me, my dear.“ To be continued… Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 🖤Masterlist🖤

Tag-List: (Please let me know if you want to be added)

@riddlersriddlet @lilith-shachath @manicmaven @crazydcchick @malectrash8714 @moonlit-mornings-blog @melli-1808 @nikkipaigesalinas @ohyesmarvel @subtlemalice @fraxxavier @miahworshippe  @fand0msgal0re @nanuks-hell-hole @lonely-entity

[littlereyofsunlight]

Goodbye, Dreamland (part 1)

Steggyweek2k18 Day 2! Part 2 of this needs a little more polishing, so it’ll be up later today. This one goes out to @roboticonography and @indiefic, who spit-balled ideas with me for this story one fine May day.

Fic: Goodbye, Dreamland Pairing: Steve/Peggy Rating: T+ Summary:  Steve and Peggy take a trip to Coney Island in an alternate-timeline in which Peggy is brought to the future and Ultron never happened.

“It’s real different than my day,” Steve said, slight hesitation slowing his voice. They’d come out of the sprawling Coney Island subway station on Stillwell between Mermaid and Surf, right by the Subway sandwich shop, into a dazzlingly bright late June morning. A solitary breeze wafted the sea air past overflowing trash bins, combining those scents into a familiar Brooklyn perfume as they walked up the steps by the improbably twisted red and blue tracks of a roller coaster.

Peggy, preoccupied with digging into her beach bag to touch up her sunscreen—it had been over two hours since she’d last put it on, and all of today’s literature suggested, as did Peggy’s own fair-skinned experience thus far this summer, that reapplication was necessary after that much sun exposure—so she didn’t quite catch it. “Well darling, it’s been seventy years.” She held up the tube, triumphant, then frowned up at him from under her floppy-brimmed hat. “Also, wasn’t there a flood recently?”

Steve shoved his hands in his shorts pockets and started to amble down the boardwalk. “2012, Superstorm Sandy. Maybe five months after the Chitauri attack on Manhattan.”

“Steve,” Peggy said, realization dawning as she rubbed extra SPF onto her cheeks, “I thought you hadn’t been here since you’d…” She stumbled over just what to call it, his miraculous return to the living.

“Since I was defrosted?” There was a sardonic edge Peggy didn’t miss this time. Wisely she held her tongue, knowing he’d elaborate in his own time. She offered him the sunscreen, but he wrinkled his nose and waved it away. “We all watched the storm from Stark Tower. There was a crane in Midtown that collapsed, and Tony went out in the middle of it, to secure that. But mostly we could only sit around til it passed.” He looked over at her. “Hell of a view, though.”

He took her hand, directed her past the entrance to Luna Park, headed away from most of the crowds. “They thought I’d be helpful here, since there had been looting. The beach had been washed clear up over this whole boardwalk, and all I saw were store owners trying to clean out and citizens just trying to get by when everything was closed or wrecked.” He shrugged, and Peggy squeezed his hand. “Coulda done something more in Breezy Point, maybe, but I went where they sent me.”

“Steve, I wish you’d told me.”

He gave her a lopsided smile and squeezed back. “Well, you said you wanted to come. I know you lived in the city for a while before you came to this time, so I figured you liked it, or maybe hadn’t had the chance to visit.”

Peggy gave a brittle laugh and stopped walking so she could face him. “Neither, I’m afraid. I have been before, and I was miserable the whole time.” Steve blanched, frown lines forming between his brows. “Darling, I came out here when I first moved because you’d spoken fondly of it, and then I spent the entire day crying about you, because you weren’t with me. I suggested this trip because I thought you’d want to see it again.”

His confusion gave way to sadness as his heart clenched, thinking of Peggy alone on a bench, staring out at the freezing winter surf and missing him. He drew her close, intending to sweep her into a hug.

But Peggy started laughing as she watched the emotions play across Steve’s face. “Listen to us! This isn’t an O. Henry story, Steve, it’s a trip to Coney Island! Sunshine! Roller coasters! Hot dogs! Splashing in the water! For pity’s sake, we’re here together and the beach is back where it’s supposed to be, so let’s just enjoy it.” When he smiled in return, she rewarded him by throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss so deep, an onlooker wolf-whistled as they passed.

“You know,” Steve said, straightening his crooked collar, “I have a feeling today’s going to be a good day.”

Some time later, having walked the length of the boardwalk several times to soak up the sun and take in all their options for amusement, Peggy happened to remove her sunglasses and see just how red Steve, staunch refuser of sun protection, had gotten since they’d arrived. “Steven Rogers!” she exclaimed. “You are turning into a lobster before my eyes.”

Steve gingerly touched his nose and winced at the too-tight, sore feeling of a sunburn. “It won’t last,” he said, sheepish. “As soon as I’m out of the sun, I’ll be fine.”

Peggy goggled at him. “We have no indoor plans! Do you mean to tell me I’m to spend my entire day with a man turning ever-increasing shades of red?” He shrugged. “Steve, doesn’t it hurt?”

He squirmed under her scrutiny. “I’ve had worse.”

Peggy snorted. “Forgive me if I don’t exactly trust your sense of scale. I’m buying you a hat right now.” She steered him into a souvenir shop. “Your ears look absurd!”

Though he protested the bucket hat Peggy had first tried to cram onto his skull and lobbied unsuccessfully for a baseball cap (“Steve, your ears!”), they eventually compromised on a straw trilby, which had enough of a brim to satisfy Peggy’s shade requirements and didn’t make Steve feel as though he’d missed the boat for a fishing trip, or a John Candy movie. In retaliation, Steve picked out a t-shirt while Peggy was at the register. He wouldn’t let her see it until they’d left the store.

“Oh, bloody Nora!” Peggy pulled the shirt from its plastic bag. “Honestly, Steve, this is a complete waste of money. You should return it.”

“What?” Steve asked, all innocence now that he’d managed to turn the tables. “It’s cheeky. You’re cheeky. I thought you could use a souvenir.”

Peggy turned the shirt over to examine the back, which, like the front, was printed with a cartoon woman’s bikini-clad body. “It’s cheeky, all right,” Peggy muttered. “I’m never wearing it,” she told him.

“That hurts. You don’t like my gift?” He tried to hold a pout but the outraged look on Peggy’s face was too much, and he broke down in giggles. “It’s terrible!”

“It is terrible!” Peggy couldn’t fathom why he’d bought it.

Steve slung his arm around her shoulders and started walking again. “It’s not a day at Coney without a terrible souvenir.” He went to drop a kiss against her temple, but Peggy’s sensible hat got in the way and all he got was straw and a bit of grosgrain ribbon. “You’re welcome, my dear.”

“Thank you,” Peggy grumbled, outrage melting slightly as she shoved the offending shirt into her bag. “Still not wearing it.”

“Nah, you’re way too classy for that shirt.” Steve agreed. “We can give it to Tony when we get home.”

That, at least, made her smile. “He would like this shirt.”

“The man’s got no class, we all know it.”

They’d arrived at the entrance for the midway games, and Peggy had an idea. “You know what? I think it’s time I took you to school, Rogers.” She grabbed his hand and set off through the milling crowd, making a beeline for the shooting range. When they arrived, Steve took one look at the carnival game and then looked back at her. “Loser buys lunch?” she suggested, oh-so-casual.

Steve chuckled, knowing just what he was getting himself into, but he still said yes. This was going to be fun.

Twenty minutes later, the barker running the shooting range was pleading with Peggy to move along. “You’re intimidating everyone! No one wants to go up against you! I’m not gonna hit my numbers if you stick around, lady, come on.”

Peggy surveyed the small mountain of stuffed animals she’d amassed with her sharp-shooting skills. “Well, I suppose this will do, then.” She turned to Steve and loaded him up with an armful. “Let’s pass these out and then see what other games look fun.”

It didn’t take long for word to spread to all the kids on the midway that there were free toys to be had, and they quickly dispersed Peggy’s winnings among the group. Task accomplished, they decided against the ring toss and some game known as “Fried Frogs,” but Peggy made Steve stop when they reached the strength tester.

“Aw, Peggy, I hated this one back in the day,” Steve complained.

“Great,” Peggy winked at him. “Now you get another crack at it.”

Steve rubbed at the back of his (sunburned) neck. “I don’t know, isn’t it just...showing off now?”

“I don’t know why you’re not seeing that’s precisely the idea,” she said, a wicked gleam in her eye as she raked her gaze over his impressive physique. Oh. Now Steve got the point. Could you blush with a sunburn? Because he was pretty sure he was doing that just now, and feeling warm all through his body as Peggy continued to openly appreciate his looks.

Some of the kids had followed Peggy and Steve after the stuffed animals, so there was a small crowd to witness when Steve, quite unexpectedly brought the hammer down and broke both it and the bell when the force of his swing shot the puck straight through and off the tower.

“Woah!” One of the kids, a tousle-headed boy there with his chubby friend, exclaimed. “Did you see that Ned? Did you see it!”

“That guy’s gotta be as strong as Thor,” Ned replied.

Peggy just smirked while Steve stammered an apology to the flabbergasted worker. He couldn’t beg off when the woman insisted he take the prize he’d won, either, but Ned and his scrawny friend were all to happy to step forward when Steve offered it to them.

“Are you Thor?” The kid shouted at Steve, eyes wide with awe. “Mister, are you THOR?”

“Peter, you can’t ASK people if they’re Thor!” Peggy heard Ned admonish as they waddled away, dragging a giant stuffed bear between them. “What if he’s UNDERCOVER?”

Laughing, Peggy looked back at a still embarrassed Steve. “Well, is it time I collected on my winnings? I think I fancy a hot dog for lunch.”

All ten registers at the boardwalk Nathan’s were stacked at least twenty people deep. Peggy couldn’t quite make out the menu board from so far back, but Steve’s super-soldier eyesight was helpful in that endeavor.

“Two fifty for a hot dog?” Steve sputtered, incredulous. Several people turned to stare, Peggy included.

“We’ve been out to eat before, Steve. You know what things cost now.” This wasn’t the first time they’d had some version of this conversation, but she’d thought he had finally accepted the changes inflation had wrought over the past seventy-odd years.

He looked at her, then back at the menu plastered with colorful photos. “It’s just, the last time I ate a hot dog here, it cost me my last nickel.” He shook his head. “Bucky wound up sharing his lemonade with me ’cause I couldn’t afford a drink.”

Peggy grabbed his hand and laced her fingers with his. He gave her that lopsided smile again and she felt a sympathetic pang in her heart.

“Sorry, I’m doing it again. We’re here now and the sun is shining, right?”

Peggy tipped her chin up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s a good day.”

Still, he’d drawn the line at buying himself more than a single hot dog and a small lemonade. Peggy rolled her eyes and ordered herself all the food she fancied, including the chilli cheese fries. Steve grumbled a bit but he didn’t welch on their bet.

He polished off his lunch in no time flat, then snuck fries off of Peggy’s plate when her hands were full of the burger she’d ordered. He stopped after she glared at him, because he knew better than to get overly familiar with Peggy’s food if she hadn’t offered. Eventually, slowed down a bit after the hamburger, hot dog and giant lemonade, she gave him a few more fries of her own accord.

Though it was past noon, the day seemed to just keep getting hotter. Steve suggested they duck into the small museum, but they were chased off by an overzealous docent who spouted one too many incorrect facts about the time period Steve had grown up in. Peggy suggested they try some of the rides, instead.

[pnksausage]

a/n: i saw this perfect prompt and immediately thought of daniel when i thought of who to place into the position of the person coming from the fantasy world!! idk if it’s because he’s so childish (in a good way) or what but i thought he would work the best with the prompt!! i wrote this more for fun than anything so it’s super sloppy skdfjkdslf please let me know what you think about this and i appreciate you reading my stuff! the song i named this after is here but there isn’t too much of a connection really?? anyway, hope you enjoy :-)

prompt: write the opposite of an Iskai (a story about someone who gets sent to a fantasy world). write about a fantasy person sent to the modern world.

so daniel comes from a world in which he’s one of the many adventurers trying to rid the world of evil but he’s not like super high leveled or anything

actually he’s one of the lower level warriors, think konosuba where the guy isn’t all that talented but he’s trying his best

yeah that’s daniel except he isn’t a giant shithead he’s a very kind boy trying to find his place in the world and do the right thing 

anyway

somehow he gets transported into the real world

one moment he was fighting giant frog monsters to earn some money to buy some new weapons and the next he finds himself in the middle of a city at night

he still has all his stuff from the fantasy world with him, though, including the outfit and weapons

so there he is in an alleyway eyeing the cat hissing at him from the corner with narrowed eyes before picking his head around the corner to survey his surroundings

there’s not too many people out because it’s the early morning hours and most people have already retired for the night or at least aren’t hanging around the area where he’s landed

except that’s where you come in

you’d stayed late at school to finish up some project you had started working on and hadn’t realized how late it had gotten

you hated leaving anytime after midnight because there were fewer people around and you were of course rather cautious of being attacked or something even if nothing bad had ever actually happened to you

so you were walking rather quickly, keeping your eyes forward and trying to ignore any odd rustling sounds to avoid getting spooked by nothing

but for once maybe you should have listened because the next thing you know there’s a tall guy with broad shoulders dressed very oddly jumping out in front of you

before you can stop yourself a shriek breaks free from between your lips and he’s quick to wave his hands around wildly

“ah, i’m so sorry!! i didn’t mean to scare you!!”

you stop screaming but..... take a couple steps back just in case eyeing him suspiciously

sure, he seemed nice enough and he hadn’t hurt you yet but you had always been warned not to talk to strangers

especially strangers that dressed like that 

had he come from a cosplay convention nearby? you hadn’t heard of any of those... maybe you should check the school board more often-

“um.. hi i’m daniel and i’m supposed to be defending the world from the big evil... nobody has ever seen him but i guess he’s super strong.”

you stare at him blankly. who the hell was the big evil

“anyway... i was wondering if maybe... you know the way? i’ve never been in this village before... so..”

village? big evil?

wait, was that a sword in his hand???

you immediately assumed that he had to have been coming from a costume party or something along those lines and decided that he had gotten a little too into character or maybe just had a few too many drinks

either way one thing led to another and suddenly he’s sitting on your couch while you rustle through his bag

you had permission of course!!! but you wanted to make sure everything dangerous was out of his reach so he couldn’t turn and attack you or something

but by now you were positive he wasn’t... going to... do that

he would have already and if anything he just seemed confused

the whole way to your apartment he’d constantly stop and ask you a million questions about the simplest things

why did those signs have lights? why wasn’t fire the main source of lighting? coffee?? what’s that?? woah food is so cheap here i’m hungry can we go get some-

so after quickly making a pitstop in the convenience store near your apartment which took longer than you had expected because he wanted to try one of eVERYTHING which of course... you said no... because money..

still you let him pick out a few things and you quickly came to the conclusion that he wasn’t from... here

by here you meant this world

because... clearly... something was up

then again you didn’t believe in magic so you weren’t sure how it was possible yet... how else would any of this make sense??

so back to the present

while you were going through his bag and eyeing his possessions with both awe and confusion he was sitting on the couch taste testing everything you’d bought for him

by the time you’ve finished pulling out all his items he’s finished eating and you look up to find everything emptied completely and him eyeing you with a grin

“everything was good thank you, we don’t have cheese puffs where i’m from!!”

you can only laugh a little at that before you carefully lift up one of his weapons with a small grunt as it was much heavier than you expected

“i’m glad you like them but uh... what are we gonna do with these? you can’t wander around the city with this stuff unless you wanna go to jail”

when he looks at you with confusion you kinda just laugh a little bit again

“daniel there’s no big evil here you need to defeat we just... go to work and school and stuff so... i guess while i do that you can hang here??”

you only suggest it because you know he doesn’t have money and also know he doesn’t really have the knowledge to be going out by himself anyway

lucky for both of you you’re off school for a few days as it’s the weekend and you didn’t have friday classes anyway so you’re able to take him around and introduce him to new things

you had called up your friend seongwoo to ask to borrow some of his clothes as your stuff didn’t exactly fit daniel and you assumed that seongwoo’s would fit even if it were a bit small

when he had come over he’d immediately quirked an eyebrow at the sight of daniel resting in one of your bathrobes on your couch after you had introduced him to the shower in your bathroom because it was much more high tech than what he was used to

(he had spent so long in there you thought maybe he’d died so you had pounded on the door until he yelled back because you refused to open that door)

“he’s just a friend” you quickly explain trying to get seongwoo to leave your apartment as quick as possible but he’s just as quick to shove his way inside with a grin

“friends don’t share bathrobes though??” he kinda whispers before walking over to drop his bag of clothes near the couch and eyeing daniel a bit

“hey i’m seongwoo! you’ll be borrowing my clothes... so... what happened to yours?”

you curse how straightforward ong is and also know as soon as you two were along he’d tease you like there was no tomorrow

damn you ong seongwoo

“y/n said they were ugly and i needed to dress appropriately to the current day and age” daniel replies, grinning as he rises to peek into the bag

and damn you too kang daniel

ong looks over at you with a raised eyebrow and a small grin and you’re quick to look away attempting to busy yourself with something in the kitchen that was much more interesting and much more important than anything seongwoo had to say to you

but of course you’re still listening to their conversation too because you had yet to explain daniel’s... situation.... to seongwoo

i mean... how do you even bring that up??

“current day and age huh?” you hate the way he laughs a little “what were you dressed like, a grandpa?”

daniel’s about to reply but you’re faster

“yup. exactly. it didn’t fit him at all!”

daniel looks at you with confusion but you only beam at him in response to which he smiles at as well, content with whatever you’ve said

“ah... well i’m sad y/n didn’t tell me about her boyfriend, but i hope i get to know you better soon! maybe over coffee someday?”

“i don’t know what a boyfriend is but coffee sounds great!!”

you’re thankful ong doesn’t press for once... at least he doesn’t press daniel but he doesn’t hesitate to drag you to your bedroom to discuss the whole daniel situation

“so... who is he and why is he staying on your couch? y’know i have a free spot on mine instead”

“uh well.. i sort of found him last night and.. now he’s living with me??? for now??”

ong looks at you like you’ve grown a head

“you... found him?? like a stray cat? y/n what the heck do you mean??”

you fiddle with the hem of your shirt before answering, a nervous habit

“uh.. well.. he comes from a fantasy world.. or something. i don’t really get it either!! but his story checks out and i trust him but i think he could probably learn a lot more from you so maybe he should stay with you after all??”

it’s a back and forth like that for a while but you both eventually come to the conclusion that daniel is from a fantasy world and has no life skills suited for the current time and that he should definitely live with ong

yes. definitely.

but that doesn’t mean you didn’t constantly go over there to visit

and of course it was because you were worried about him and whether or not he was progressing and figuring out how to live in the world and not because you had begun developing a crush on him or anything

no... of course not

so like six months had passed since daniel had first arrived and you weren’t sure if he was going to stay forever or if he’d eventually be sent back to his own world but you found yourself growing more and more upset at the idea

but you tried to convince yourself that it was just because daniel had become such a close friend already that you were scared of losing him not that you’d definitely begun to fall for him

little did you know that he was feeling the same way but was at even more of a loss of how to explain it to you

seongwoo, of course, saw the way you both looked at each other and was devising a way to get you two together because he was convinced daniel was staying forever

after all, if he were going back to his world he probably would have done it already

and in all the anime he watched they were usually stuck in that world forever so....

not that anime was real life or anything but... apparently some things from it were true???

so that brings you to sitting across daniel in a cramped cafe playing too loud music and an annoying best friend laughing much too loud

it was weird, but you weren’t going to question it

conversations carried on like usual, daniel questioning things here and there and struggling a bit with usual everyday things

but he’d gotten a lot better since he arrived, especially when it came to things like chopsticks

but that’s not important right now

suddenly halfway through the outing seongwoo declared that he had something to take care of and before you could call him out on his obvious lie you were left alone with daniel who... suddenly.. wouldn’t meet your eye??

ah... this was.. awkward

you tried to keep up a conversation but it constantly fell flat on both ends and you didn’t notice the flush on his cheeks because he kept his head slightly down and eyes on the table so you thought maybe he only talked to you because you hung around seongwoo??

so after that “date” and after you walked him home so he wouldn’t get lost you avoided him for a while

you would only meet up with seongwoo if he promised to come alone and you wouldn’t approach him at campus if you saw daniel with him so you began to feel a bit lonely but... you didn’t want to make things more awkward

seongwoo noticed the change and obviously immediately came to the conclusion that something had happened between you two and questioned daniel about it but he stayed quiet not knowing ong had already figured out you two clearly had feelings for each other

which.. it was kinda sad YOU hadn’t pieced it together

actually you were oblivious until seongwoo showed up at your place one day with a serious expression on his face

too serious please stop seongwoo this isn’t right-

“you like daniel, right?”

... what? he knew?

“uh.. no. course not. he’s just a friend... well i thought we were but i think he hates me so... no”

seongwoo just looked at you like you were stupid and maybe you were a little bit in this situation but that’s beside the point

“he doesn’t hate you y/n... sometimes you’re so oblivious”

he rolls his eyes fondly then but you can’t help but look at him as though he’s said something completely crazy “what do you mean??? of course he does?? that day you left us alone he wouldn’t even look at me??”

to that he can only laugh and again you’re just left looking at him like... huh??

“y/n, daniel is like.. completely in love with you i can tell when he looks at you but he won’t admit it either”

daniel?? in love with you??? IMPOSSIBLE

but that whole night after seongwoo leaves after you denied the possibility 29849234 times it was all you could think about

daniel loves you too??

daniel with his soft smile and strong arms

the way he hugged you and the way he was so kind to animals and other people

daniel who always thanked you even for the smallest things and looked at you as though you had saved the entire world

thinking about it, it made sense

but still, you wanted to hear it from him

so you made a plan of sorts with seongwoo and after getting him to leave daniel alone in the apartment you showed up because seongwoo said there was no way he’d confess as... y’know.. it was daniel

this whole falling in love boyfriend thing was a bit new to him,, he had never worried about that kind of stuff in his world

you knocked on the door and waited patiently and daniel opened the door with wide eyes obviously not expecting you since you hadn’t talked to him in weeks now

poor boy

“oh.. hey y/n” 

he steps aside to let you in, smiling softly as you make your way inside 

he shuts the door behind you and fiddles with his fingers nervously, having not been alone with you for a while

“daniel, i have something important to tell you”

he looks at you expectantly, almost a bit scared you’ll tell him you never want to see him again

“i think that somehow, somewhere along the way i fell in love with you... and... i’ve never felt this way before so i was hoping you felt the same way?”

he’s silent. you’re silent. inside you’re screaming, sure that seongwoo and you had both been wrong all along and god this was the worst day of your life you were going to kill ong when this was all over-

“i think i love you too y/n”

you pull yourself away from your inner monologue to meet a blushing daniel’s eyes to which you flush a darker shade of pink

he was so cute

of course he was, it was daniel

you didn’t know he was thinking the same thing about you in that moment

not that you had a lot of time to dwell on it because the next thing you knew he had his arms wrapped around you and his lips pressed against yours

it was a little... awkward

you hesitated a bit too long and he had begun to pull back when you finally reciprocated

awkward first kiss or not, it was still amazing

you were kissing kang daniel, fantasy man from another world

heh that sounded pretty cool

not that you’d ever tell him you thought that during your first kiss, he was already bashful enough around you

after that you officially started dating which was... sort of funny because he really had no clue what a boyfriend was supposed to do and was typically too formal

so seongwoo gave him “dating classes” which ended up with daniel attempting to be smooth and failing miserably which was even cuter than daniel being daniel

maybe it was because he was from unknown fantasy land but it really did feel like you’d managed to maybe find what people called a happy ever after

only time would tell 

[ghoultyrant]

FoZ Notes 4

Ragdorian Lake is roughly 600 square kilometers. The distance from the Gallia side to the Tristainian side gets compared to the distance between the Magic Academy and Tristain's capitol. "Water Spirits" have a castle (why??) and town down there. Supposedly they don't break their oaths, and they have some oath with the Tristainian Royal Family. [Future note: We never do see this Water Spirit castle and town, and the idea that they’d bother makes even less sense once we see what a Water Spirit actually is]

Wales is the oldest son of his father. His father and Henrietta's father are brothers, because of course we gotta be creepy. [Reader note: Wales and Henrietta are Twue Wuv. While being this close of cousins. Ick]

Henrietta has brown hair. Magic hair dye, because magic is all about being plot-convenient here. [Reader note: She uses the magic hair dye to have Louise pretend to be her sleeping in bed at a party]

... the marriage gets canceled because of driving off Albion. This pains me on far too many levels. [Reader note: The marriage to the Germanian emperor]

Only a handful of princesses in Halkeginian history were enthroned as the ruler. Ridiculously few. Story still can't make up its mind... [Reader note: Can’t make up its mind about how women work in this society, that is]

All right, her mother has refused to take the throne. Mourning her husband. Plot hole closed.

Siesta, if she decides she wants a kiss, isn't going to be stopped by silly things like her kissee doing nothing because he’s a doofus. Undecided as to whether that's awesome or if it smacks too much of the rape-y elements elsewhere in the story. I mean, Saito is at least CAPABLE of saying 'no' in this case...

Having cast "Explosion" once (rather curious as to how else it could be translated), suddenly Louise can cast "common" spells, such as magically locking a door. Ooookaaaay. [Future note: This idea drops away in fairly short order, and even here no acknowledgment is given of, for instance, how Levitation has never been stated to have an affinity]

Pelicans delivering packages. Totally Not Harry Potter.

Louise was able to buy an "animal training suit" that works by delivering electric shocks. What a noble and compassionate world this is. [Future note: Nothing about later setting details supports the idea of this being plausible for Halkeginia to produce, either]

Cromwell is an asshole willing to have Zombie Wales torment Henrietta with his very existence. "Invite her, keep her company so she doesn't get bored". Ugh.

Fouquet romancing Wardes... why? [Future note: It doesn’t work and nothing comes of it and we never find out why Fouquet would be interested in the man. It just seems to serve the purpose of establishing that Wardes is not a man moved by romance/women, end line]

Oh. Three rings, not four. Oookay. [Future note: Eventually contradicted. It’s four rings] Also, Louise has royal blood from a bastard of Tristain, which A: she didn't know but Henrietta did and B: supposedly somehow connects to her having Void magic. [Future note: Hey something the plot keeps consistent more than ten volumes later!... it’s sad that it stands out so much when the story successfully pulls off something so basic]

Henrietta wants Louise to stop using magic so people don't try to steal Tristrain's nuke or otherwise freak out. Louise sets her jaw and refuses -Honor And Duty demand she Serve her Queen and her Country! There's some back and forth, but Henrietta gives in, and converts Louise into an Inquisitor, answering to no one but Henrietta. Not that she calls it "being an Inquisitor", mind, but it's basically what it is.

... so in addition to be a rapist, Saito engages in fetishism in place of sense. Lovely. [Reader note: Maid fetishization, specifically, if anyone cares about this piece of shit’s behavior]

We get the dump about Willpower and dot/line/triangle/square mages and costs. Louise hasn't been able to cast Explosion since the first time. Saito's theory is she has stored-up Willpower from being unable to cast spells for so long. [Future note: I’m honestly not sure if the later system is a clever reveal of something always planned or if it’s another case of Consistency!!!] We also get a dumb explanation for why gold can be alchemized but it hasn't had a big impact. [Reader note: The short version is you need to be Square-level Earth affinity and that’s rare. This is a terrible explanation, though]

... it's depressing how Pointless And Horrible Harem Antics are overtaking the plot even as we get actual worldbuilding and so on. [Future note: hahahahaha past me has no idea how good he has it]

Wait, making a love potion is forbidden... but the punishment is just a fine? The hell? In any event, Montmorency literally made it just to challenge herself because regular potions were boring her. Wow, girl.

The Liar's Mirror, which "makes pretty things ugly and ugly things pretty" in its reflection. Hi Mirror of Erised.

Kirche has been Tabitha's friend for "more than three years". So before the academy. [Future note: This makes no sense with their later backstory]

After entirely too long, we finally get this Ragdorian Lake nonsense having actual relevancy: Water Spirit tears are the secret ingredient in love potion and its antidote. Because of course you need the tears of pretty girls to make a love potion. Ugh.

Guiche claims to have not gone to school for six months, connects it to Saito's arrival. That sounds like too long, to me. [Reader note: That is, it doesn’t feel like six months have passed since Saito showed up]

Montmorency's family has negotiated with Water Spirits for ages, implying affinity tends to run in families, as water affinity is what she blames for magically sensing the Water Spirit's anger by just dipping a finger into the lake. I hate this story. [Future note: This is the one and only time Montmorency is anything other than “Guiche’s main girlfriend who sometimes makes potions”]

Ragdorian Lake has been rising for two fucking years, the peasants pointing it out ignored by the nobles.

Montmorency's familiar is a tiny, colorful frog. Yellow with black spots, like a poison dart frog or something. [Future note: We never see it ever again]

The Lake has been rising because people have been attacking the Water Spirit every night, cutting off parts of it. (ie "tears" )

... turns out Tabitha has been assigned to kill the thing. sigh

Oh wait it's been raising the water level to get back a stolen "treasure". The Ring of Andvari. Cromwell used it to revive Wales.

Henrietta drinks heavily when stressed. [Future note: This trait never crops up ever again] Zombie Wales claims a body double died, so the zombie loyalty goes pretty deep. Zombie Wales can cast a sleep spell without chanting, because who cares about consistency?

Why the fuck was Wales coming FROM Ragdorian Lake, such that Kirche could see him? [Reader note: Ragdorian Lake is east of Tristain’s capitol. Wales came from Albion, which flies over Halkeginia but also hangs out northwest over the ocean. I mean, I guess it’s possible Zombie Wales dropped down when Albion was flying over to the east of Tristain, but why would he even do that?]

Zombies keep going when grievously injured, basically unaffected. Aaand they regenerate, because Impure World Resurrection. There also seems to be a hivemind thing going on. [Future note: We never get a clear idea on the details, and indeed after this volume Andvari zombies never crop up again -even though the ring does] Fire apparently puts them down permanently, which seems a bit odd for a Water relic.

Aaaand here's Louise fighting her Queen because Henrietta tried to attack Saito. Goddammit. [Future note: IT BEGINS. By which I mean Honor And Duty is eroding in favor of Everybody Loves Saito]

Derflinger claims Louise can read the Dispel spell, right after claiming she'll be able to read it if she needs it. Consistency! [Reader note: I actually am not sure what the hell Past Me is saying here. I’m willing to trust what he read was stupid and inconsistent, though] Surprisingly, dispelling the zombies doesn't disintegrate them, it just de-animates them.

Wales un-dies long enough to have a tearful conversation with Henrietta. He's immune to healing because shut up. He's alive because shut up. Oh, excuse me, he un-dies long enough for them to go to Ragdorian Lake and demand Henrietta promise to "forget" him.

This. Fucking. Bullshit.

End fucking Volume 4. -----------

Plot is two dumb love stories being dumb. Why?

[Reader note: I didn’t make notes of it in detail because fuck this bullshit, but a large chunk of the volume is flashbacking to Henrietta and Wales having Twue Wuv during some party a few years back. The other love story is that Louise ends up drinking a love potion via contrived nonsense and thus being in love with Saito even more than the plot has already been hinting she was. Oh and I guess Albion tried to kidnap Henrietta but this has surprisingly little relevancy to the overall story. Not that this volume has much relevancy to the overall story...]

[dimensionhoppingrose]

A Drop of Magic || Year Seven (Complete)

Title: A Drop of Magic Rating: K+ Pairing: Rose/Ninth Doctor Summary: Their first meeting wasn’t in the halls of the great castle, but in a dusty, forgotten corner of Flourish and Blotts. “Are you bored too?” He asked, and when she nodded he took her hand and said one word: “Run.”

Note: So this is the last chapter. I hope everyone enjoyed it, and please, if you’ve been an invisible reader, please review? I have anon on so you don’t even have to attach your name to it. Please.

Read on AO3.

“When did John say he was getting here?”

“Around noon, I think.”

“You think?” Martha raised an eyebrow. “Right. Because I’m sure you guys haven’t spent every single waking moment writing letters to each other or anything.”

“No, of course not.” Just close to every moment. Honestly, Rose needed to teach him how to use a mobile. John’s poor owl was getting such a workout. Martha rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. They were waiting at the Leaky Cauldron to go pick up their school supplies. John had said he would meet them, but he was running late. Of course.

“He’ll probably be here around five,” Martha said with a teasing laugh. Rose snorted.

“Yeah, his watch probably broke.”

“He Apparated to the wrong place.”

“He—”

“Yeah, you two are hilarious,” John said dryly, and they looked over to see him glaring half-heartedly at them.

“Hi!” Rose said happily, leaning in to kiss him and ignoring the mock-gagging noises Martha made.

“If you two are gonna do this all day, I’m leaving you.”

“Oh shush.”  Rose finished her drink and left a few Galleons on the bar. Martha did the same, and they headed out back.

“So what’re you guys taking this year?” John asked as they started down the cobble road and into Diagon Alley.

“Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Martha recited her class list.

“Yeah, have fun with that. You’re going to hate yourself.”

“I already do.”

Rose giggled, and John smiled a bit as he took her hand, intertwining their fingers. “What about you?”

“Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Astronomy, and Charms.” Rose still wasn’t entirely certain what she wanted to do with her life, but those classes were a safe bet for her. And she would have Martha in two classes — the N.E.W.T. classes were so small, they didn’t bother separating by House. Everyone was just tossed in together.

That would be nice.

They ducked into Flourish and Blotts first, stocking up on the books they needed. Martha, of course, had to buy several extras. “Oh, by the way,” she said as they explored the shelves, “I was made Head Girl.”

“What?!” Rose burst out. “That’s brilliant, congratulations!”

She threw her arms around Martha, who laughed. “No surprise,” John said. “You’re practically a saint.”

“Oh I am not, shut up.” Martha rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s check out.”

“Do you guys mind if we stop at the Quidditch store after we’re done with school supplies?” Rose asked as they made their way to the counter. She was hanging on Martha’s arm now, so proud of her friend. “I think I’m going to get a new broomstick.”

“Treating yourself?”

“Something like that.” She was still halfway considering trying for a professional Quidditch career when she was done with school. But also her poor Cleansweep was five years old and on its last legs. It was time to retire it with grace before it sent her plunging out of the air. “I think I’m gonna donate my old one to Hogwarts. It’s still in decent shape, just not good enough to constantly be flying on. It’s better than most of the school brooms.”

“Did I ever tell you about the time an old school Shooting Star threw me off?” John asked, and Rose laughed.

“No!”

“It was my first flying lesson — and last, I refused to take them after that…”

They finished getting their school supplies, and ducked into the Quidditch supplies store so Rose could try and figure out what broom she could afford. The new Firebolt was her dream — Amy Pond had one, and had told Rose it was absolutely brilliant — but it was also way out of her price range. She wouldn’t have any money left for the rest of the year.

Still, she could stop and stare and dream.

“You could just get it,” Martha suggested. “How much money do you really spend when you’re at school?”

“A lot when I go to Hogsmeade.”

“And god forbid you go a year with Chocolate Frogs.”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you really want it?” John asked, and Rose sighed faintly. Yes. Yes she did. It was an amazing, broom and if Rose really went for a Quidditch career after school this would give her such a boost.

But it was too expensive.

“Alright, then.” John scooped up the broom and headed for the counter to check out.

“Wait — what?” Rose gaped, whirling around to hurry after. “John, what the hell are you doing?”

“I think I’m buying a broom.”

“You can’t afford it!”

“Watch me.”

“John, seriously, you can’t,” Rose insisted. It was far too much money. Sure, the price had gone down since it had first been released, but still. It was too much.

“I’m saving a lot of money not being a student anymore,” John assured her as he doled out the Galleons. The fact that he just happened to have that much money on him gave Rose a sneaking suspicion he had planned on doing something like this anyways.

He finished paying, the cashier wrapped up the broom for them, and they left. Rose was a bit of a stuttering mess as she tried to figure out what to say.

“She’s pretty cute when she’s speechless, isn’t she?” Martha teased, and quickly dodged when Rose tried to kick her shin. John laughed as he leaned in to kiss Rose, and she sighed against his lips.

“Thank you. Really.”

“It’s nothing to thank me for.”

Honestly, he was mad.

* * * * * * * *

It was weird, getting on the train without John and sitting alone. Martha, in all her Head Girl glory, had to meet with the Prefects and other Heads first. And of course, John wasn’t there. She had kind of hoped he would come to see her off, but he’d had something else come up at the last minute. He’d come around the night before to say goodbye, at least.

Hogwarts was going to be weird without him.

Rose kissed her mother goodbye and climbed onto the train, heading for the compartment she’d managed to get to herself. She let Luna out and settled against the window, watching as they slowly left the city behind.

It was her last year at Hogwarts.

God, that was so weird to think about. She was seventeen. She was an adult in the Wizarding world. She could take her Apparation test. She’d meant to do it over the summer, but she had no idea how to get to the Ministry of Magic. John had promised to take her during Christmas break.

It was all exciting and terrifying at the same time.

“Blimey,” Martha said with a sigh as she let herself into the compartment. “Being in charge is hard.”

“Yeah, sounds like such a burden,” Rose teased lightly, and Martha laughed.

“I saw the food trolley on the way here, so at least I didn’t miss it. Could you’ve found anywhere further back on the train?”

“I got here late, leave me alone.”

“John’s rubbing off on you.”

They got some snacks for the ride, and Martha broke out a book to begin reading. “Seriously? We’re not even there yet.”

“Rose, have you seen my classes?”

That was fair. Luna nudged at Rose’s ankle and she bent over to pick the cat up. “Did you ever do your Apparation test?” She asked.

“Oh. Um. Yeah.” Rose raised an eyebrow as Martha ducked her head. “Twice.”

“Twice?” Rose had to try not to laugh. The idea of Martha failing at anything was stunning.

“Shut up,” Martha mumbled. “I overshot the first time, missed the goal by a couple miles. Mum said it was probably nerves.”

“But you passed the second time, right?” Martha nodded. “That’s all that matters, then.”

“My brother and sister didn’t shut up about it for a week.”

“Well you’ll have to remember that when they take the test.”

Martha laughed at that. “Fair. Ten galleons says my brother Splinches himself.” That seemed to cheer her up considerably.

They changed as they got closer to Hogwarts, and in no time at all they were arriving at the platform. Rose closed Luna back into her carrier and they headed out. They rode up to school together, only separating when they arrived at the Great Hall. Rose felt a little weird, sitting at the Gryffindor table without Clara. She missed her friend.

The rest of the Gryffindor team welcomed her happily, of course, so she wasn’t completely alone.

After the Sorting and eating, the Headmistress stood up, and the Hall slowly went silent. “Welcome,” she called, “to another year! I’m sure you’re all ready for bed, but I have a few announcements to make before we release you to your dorms, starting with staffing changes.

“First, I’m sad to say Professor Flitwick, who has been with us for nearly sixty years, has decided to retire. He’s been a wonderful professor, and we’ll all miss him terribly. However, I’m happy to say we’ve found a suitable replacement, recommended by him, even. Clara Oswald, whom I’m sure many of you will recognize as a former classmate, will be taking over his position.”

“Ha!” Rose burst out as the rest of the team started laughing and clapping. That was brilliant. The Headmistress smiled.

“Yes, I’m sure Professor Oswald’s friends are very happy for her. Madam Pomfrey has also decided to retire after this year, after faithfully serving Hogwarts for over fifty years. She’ll be staying on one more year to train her replacement — another recent graduate, John Smith.”

Rose nearly choked, and she heard Martha laughing over at the Ravenclaw table.

Oh that was too good.

A few more announcements, and they were finally released to go to their dorms. Rose pushed her way through the crowd to get to Martha so they could talk before she disappeared to the Ravenclaw dorm for the night.

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell us!” Martha said as soon as Rose was close enough.

“I can. He’s such a dork.” Rose laughed. Martha rolled her eyes, also laughing. Absolutely ridiculous.

* * * * * * * *

Clara and John were at the staff table when Rose got to breakfast the next morning, and she couldn’t quite look at them without laughing. She kept her eyes on the floor and tried not to giggle as she hurried to the Gryffindor table.

Growing up was kind of weird sometimes.

Professor Longbottom came around to hand out the class schedules, and Rose laughed when she saw she had Charms first. Oh brilliant.

She hurried over to the Ravenclaw table to meet Martha once she was done eating. “Looks like we have Charms first,” she said brightly, and Martha laughed.

“Looks like we do. We better get going, we don’t want to be late for our first class, do we?”

“Of course not. That would be horrible.”

They got to the classroom and got seats right in front. Clara rolled her eyes when she walked in and saw them. “Don’t start.”

“Don’t start what, Professor?” Rose asked sweetly. “Professor. That’s a good name for you. Professor Oswald.”

“I hope you plan on teasing John just as much as you plan on teasing me.”

“Oh absolutely.”

They behaved perfectly once the bell rang, of course. Friend or not, Clara was a teacher now and she deserved respect.

And there would be plenty of time to take the mickey out of her after class. Rose had a free period.

“Hi Professor!” She said happily as she approached Clara after the bell rang. Clara rolled her eyes as she collected her books.

“Alright, Rose, have at it.”

“I would never.” Rose put on an honest smile. “Seriously, this is brilliant. Congratulations.”

Clara smiled a bit. “Thanks. Really. You got a free period? Let’s have tea.”

They walked back to Clara’s office, and Clara waved her wand at a tea pot to start the tea. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Rose asked curiously. Clara shrugged.

“I dunno. It seemed kind of stupid, ya know? Professor Flitwick approached me about it at the end of last year — he knew I was interested in teaching and he thought I’d be good for the job — and I thought he was joking, honestly. I mean, who in their right mind would make me a professor?”

“Hogwarts, apparently.”

“I guess their standards aren’t as high as I thought.”

Rose rolled her eyes, slapping Clara’s arm. “So are you Head of Ravenclaw now, too?”

“I think so, technically. There isn’t much for Heads of Houses to do, though. Professor Longbottom took care of handing out schedules for me this morning since I had a class first thing.”

“Do you think they’d let me keep you as Keeper for the Gryffindor team?”

“I doubt it.”

Rose spent half of her off period with Clara, then hurried to the Hospital Wing. It was empty, of course — it was only the first day, no one was hurt or having a nervous breakdown yet. John was standing with his back to the door, going through a cabinet and checking things off on a clipboard.

“Excuse me, hi,” Rose called jokingly. “I think I need help.”

“Did you fall off your broom already?” John deadpanned without turning around, and Rose snorted.

“Very funny. Come on, why didn’t you tell me you got a job here?” She sat down on the edge of the bed closest to John.

“Wanted it to be a surprise. And I knew you would laugh at me.”

“I would never laugh.” John raised an eyebrow at Rose. “Okay, maybe I laughed a little. Just a little. But seriously, I’m really happy for you.” And she couldn’t deny that she was thrilled to have John here. Hogwarts without John just felt… wrong.

“Ms. Tyler did you fall off your broom already?” Madam Pomfrey asked in disbelief as she came out of her office. John snorted and coughed to cover up his laugh, and Rose blushed.

“No, ma’am. I just wanted to say hi to John.”

Her free period ended far too soon, of course. She kissed John quickly before hurrying off. She had Care of Magical Creatures next.

* * * * * * * *

By the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, Rose was already snowed under in work. She’d thought only taking four classes would make the year a little easier. She should have known better.

“How’d tryouts go?” Martha asked as they made their way down the path to Hogsmeade. Rose had held tryouts for Gryffindor Keeper the night before.

“They don’t make them like they used to.” Rose sighed. “Found a pretty decent one though, I think.” Danny Pink, a fourth year. Honestly, Rose would be so glad when she didn’t have to replace any more teammates. “I still wish I could’ve kept Clara.”

“I don’t think professors are allowed to play in a student game.”

“Well that’s stupid.”

They stopped in the Three Broomsticks first — John had said he’d try to meet them, if he could get the day off from Madam Pomfrey. Rose was excited. She hadn’t had many chances to see John since the beginning of the semester, and she missed him.

John got there about five minutes after they did, and Rose unashamedly lit up when she saw him. “Hey!” She said happily, hopping up to kiss him.

“Making out with a student?” Martha tsk-ed. “That’s just inappropriate.”

“Oh shush,” John and Rose said at the same time, and Martha laughed.

It was so nice to just take a day off and wander through Hogsmeade, and even better to do it hand-in-hand with John. John and Martha spent a lot of time talking about Martha’s classes — he knew her pain, he had taken all the same ones — and Rose was happy to just listen. It still hurt, sometimes, that she wasn’t as smart as them and she never would be. But she was also finally happy with the place she was in.

Besides, she knew John cared about her, even if she wasn’t brilliant like he was. And that was all she needed.

* * * * * * * *

“Do you know how to play Quidditch without getting hurt?”

The first game of the season had been otherwise amazing — they had won two-hundred to twenty. Danny was almost as good as Clara. But a Bludger had caught Rose in the side and broken four of her ribs right before Bill Knight caught the Snitch.

That had hurt like hell.

“Hold still,” Madam Pomfrey demanded as Rose tried to curl in on herself to minimize the pain. John was trying to hold Rose still while the matron took care of the actual healing. “This’ll only take a few minutes, but I can’t do anything if you keep squirming.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Rose mumbled, swallowing hard and ignoring the tears stinging in her eyes. It hurt.

Madam Pomfrey healed her up, and left her and John alone to go tend to the Ravenclaw seeker, who had taken a Bludger to the head. Rose took the opportunity to curl up in John’s arms, smiling faintly.

“You’re too danger prone for Quidditch,” John teased, and Rose laughed.

“Apparently. Is it mad I’m thinking about trying to get into it professionally?”

“A little,” John said honestly, but he was smiling. “But being able to say I’m dating a professional Quidditch player would be pretty amazing.”

Rose laughed, tilting her head up to kiss John gently. “Oh, speaking of professional Quidditch players—”

“What segue could you possibly have for that?” John asked. Rose ignored his interruption.

“I got an invitation to Amy’s wedding next summer. Wanna go with me? I’ve never been to a Wizard wedding before, thought it might be fun.”

“How does professional Quidditch make you think about a wedding?”

“Well the invitation came with a note that Amy has a tryout for the England Quidditch team next month.”

“Of course it did.”

* * * * * * * *

“This is it. This is how I die.”

“Stop being so dramatic.”

Martha and Rose had retreated to the very back of the library, piling up their books around themselves so no one would bother them. Rose, amazingly, wasn’t as behind on homework as she could have been — one of the perks of having three free periods a day — but she was still pretty behind. She had an essay due tomorrow for Herbology that she hadn’t even started yet.

And now that she was actually trying to write it, she realized she had no idea what to say.

“Remember me fondly, Martha. Make sure John doesn’t date again.”

“Yeah, sure Rose.” Martha went through her pile of books, frowning. “I think I left my Charms book in my room… do you have yours?”

“Yeah, hang on…” Rose dug hers out and handed it to Martha. “Have you started that essay yet?”

“Doing it now.”

Clara Oswald was a surprisingly strict teacher. They had at least one essay to do a week, and she was a hard grader. Rose had managed A’s on most of hers, and an E in one case, but they were all well-earned grades. Even Martha had gotten an E on one essay. That had been more shocking than any of Rose’s grades.

“Martha, serious question. Are we going to survive this year?”

“Probably not, Rose. Probably not.”

* * * * * * * *

“Honestly, it’s not that bad,” Rose insisted as Madam Pomfrey tsk-ed at her. They had been working with Kneazles during Care of Magical Creatures, and Rose had, unfortunately, gotten a particularly mistrustful one, which had scratched and bitten her arm. She had tried to say that she was fine, and asked Hagrid for a bandage, but he had insisted on dismissing the class so he could walk her to the Hospital Wing.

“It’s not as bad as some of the stuff she’s done to herself,” John piped up unhelpfully as he brought over the magical salve for Madam Pomfrey.

“You’re not helping.”

Rose winced as the salve was wiped on to her injured arm. “I shudder to think what’ll happen when Professor Hagrid breaks out the fire crabs,” Madam Pomfrey muttered with a look in Hagrid’s direction. He smiled sheepishly, and Rose beamed.

“I can’t wait for that.”

A fifth year came in with another professor, who said the poor student had had a small break down during class — no surprise, it always happened during the O.W.L. year — and John was sent off to deal with that, so Rose didn’t get a chance to say bye before her arm was taken care and she left. Thank god it was almost Christmas. John had gotten the time off, and Rose had convinced Jackie to let John stay with them over the holiday.

Rose was excited.

* * * * * * * *

“…Your room is very… pink.”

“Shut up.”

John smirked as he sat down on the edge of Rose’s bed. Rose would admit, she was a little nervous about having John stay with her for Christmas. She knew her flat wasn’t overly impressive, and while she was mostly sure John wouldn’t judge her… it was still nerve-wracking.

Jackie, thankfully, was on her best behavior. It was actually a littles suspicious, how nice she was being to John, considering she had never quite forgiven John for taking Rose away from Flourish and Blotts six years earlier, and subsequently scaring the hell out of Jackie when she realized her daughter was gone.

But Jackie was behaving, and Rose was so grateful for that.

They left the flat early the next morning to go to the Ministry of Magic so Rose could take her Apparation test. She had sort of successfully managed to do it during the lessons they’d taken the year before, but considering Martha had failed her first test, Rose didn’t have much confident in her own abilities.

“You’ll be fine,” John said encouragingly as they walked through the Ministry to the Apparation office. “Just focus. Don’t get distracted. You’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.” Rose’s hand tightened around John’s. “Yeah, I’m sure I will be.”

In the end, it turned out, she was fine. Her landing wasn’t perfect, but the tester said it was still one of the best tests she had seen all day. Rose was flying high as she was given her license, and slammed into John out of pure excitement when she went to hug him. She had done it. She had actually done it.

Jackie was horribly unamused when Rose suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the living room, yelling, “I passed, I passed!”

* * * * * * * *

The first I love you wasn’t a big or dramatic moment. Rose and John were lying on the couch, Rose introducing John to bad nighttime telly while Jackie slept.

It was Rose who whispered the words into John’s shoulder, a little afraid of his reaction. She knew John had feelings for her. She didn’t doubt that they were love.

But it was still a big thing to say.

John looked down at Rose, who only dared to meet his gaze after a long moment. And she knew, as soon as she saw his eyes, that she had nothing to worry about.

“I love you too,” he said quietly, and Rose practically glowed as she kissed him.

* * * * * * * *

“So… what’re you doing after you leave Hogwarts?”

“You know, every time someone asks me that question, I die a little inside.”

“Very funny.” John rolled his eyes. They’d just finished Christmas dinner and were relaxing in Rose’s room, Rose half curled up on John’s chest. He was very comfy to lie on, she had learned. That was pleasing to her. “I meant were you going to move back home, or did you want to get your own place?”

Actually, Rose hadn’t thought much about that. Her main focus on been on her job. “I’m not sure. Why?”

“Well… I was thinking about getting my own place. I mean, I have to live at Hogwarts during the school year, obviously, but I need somewhere to go during the summer and Sarah Jane is kind of sick of me. I thought maybe… if you didn’t want to move back home we could… I dunno…”

“Move in together?” Rose finished the sentence for him, and he ducked his head, blushing faintly.

“If you want to.”

“No, that sounds like the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” Rose said dryly. “Living with you? I can’t even imagine.”

“I’m told I’m pretty insufferable,” John agreed, and Rose laughed as she kissed him.

* * * * * * * *

The next few months passed in a blur. Between studying and Quidditch practice, Rose had no time for anything else. She even had to skip the next Hogsmeade trip, which was heart breaking.

On the plus side, the Gryffindor team was having an amazing season. They won their next game against Hufflepuff, and were getting ready for their final game against Slytherin.

If they could win the Quidditch Cup during Rose’s last year as captain, that would be amazing.

Unfortunately, exams were also approaching, and Rose was trying to split her time the best she could. She was so close to the end — the last thing she wanted to do was trip at the finish line.

“I wonder if anyone’s ever just dropped out,” Rose said one night as she and Martha were working. “What jobs do you think there are for Hogwarts drop outs?”

“Cashier at Flourish and Blotts?” Martha shrugged. “That probably doesn’t require full Hogwarts education.”

“I think I could live with that.” Rose nodded. “That’s not a horrible career.”

Martha rolled her eyes and refused to grace that with an answer. They both knew Rose was just being dramatic.

* * * * * * * *

“WE WON!”

The shout echoed through the Gryffindor common room as everyone screamed and shouted, delighted at the amazing win their Quidditch team had managed to pull off — three-hundred and eight to one hundred. The game had last for nearly four hours.

It had been the best final game Rose could have asked for.

“Three cheers for Rose Tyler!” Someone called. “Best captain ever!”

Rose blushed deeply, ducking her head and busying herself with her drink while everyone else cheered.

The party lasted until nearly dawn, when Professor Longbottom finally came to the common room to tell them all it was time for bed. Rose was still glowing as she collapsed into bed.

She wanted to at least try to get into professional Quidditch, she decided as she finally drifted off to sleep. This feeling was too good to just give up.

Rose woke up a few hours later to John’s owl sitting on her window sill. There as a roll of parchment tied to its leg, with just a few words written on it.

You were brilliant.

Love, John

* * * * * * * *

Exam time came, and went, and Rose didn’t feel completely horrible about herself at the end of it. She would even dare to say she felt she had done well on all of her exams.

It had been a long time since she had felt this confident in something school related.

“It’s over,” Martha groaned as she and Rose collapsed under a tree, staring blankly at the sky. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s over.”

“I can.” Rose closed her eyes, yawning widely. “Can I just sleep for a week?”

“Absolutely.” There was still two weeks left of term, while the rest of the school took their own exams, and there wasn’t much for them to do besides pack and get ready to leave Hogwarts for the last time.

“So, I’m moving in with John this summer.” Rose hadn’t gotten a chance to tell Martha before now. They’d both been so busy.

“Of course you are. I’m sure I’ll have a wedding invitation by next summer.” Rose rolled her eyes.

“You gonna snark at me, or are you gonna let me talk?”

“Sorry, of course. Continue.”

“Well, I was thinking — and John agrees — he’s going to be gone for the entire school year. I mean, he’ll come home for Christmas and stuff, but once term starts he can never really get away. The flat’s going to be pretty lonely if it’s just me. So we were thinking, maybe… you’d want to move in too?”

Martha blinked, slowly sitting up to look down at Rose. “You want me to move in with you and John?” She asked. Rose sat up as well.

“I mean, we’ll get a big enough place, obviously. We were thinking two or three rooms. Definitely more than one bathroom. You don’t have to, just… ya know, if you don’t want to move back in with your mum, you could have another option.”

Martha stared at Rose for a long moment before her face split into a wide grin, and she practically tackled Rose. They laughed as they fell over in a tangle of limbs.

“So is that a yes?” Rose giggled.

“Shut up. Yes.”

* * * * * * * *

Rose slowly finished packing the rest of her stuff, looking around the now empty the dorm. She couldn’t believe this was the last time she would be in Gryffindor Tower. It didn’t seem possible.

Had it really been seven years?

Martha was waiting down in the Entrance Hall for Rose. She caught up to her, grinning. It was oddly fitting — they had walked through the doors of Hogwarts for the first time together. And now they would leave for the last time together.

“Ready to go?”

Rose beamed as she linked arms with Martha. “Ready.”

The trip back to London went by in no time at all. John was waiting for them when the arrived, and Rose happily kissed him. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then?” Martha asked as she prepared to Apparate. They were going to look at flats the next day.

“Absolutely. Meet at Rose’s place?” John suggested. He was spending the night there.

“Sounds good. See you tomorrow.”

Martha left, and Rose paused to look back at the train one last time. She would never take the train again. She would probably never see Hogwarts again. She had spent seven years of her life at that school, discovering things she never would have thought possible.

And it had been wonderful.

“Rose? Ready to go?”

She looked back at John, smiling as he held out his hand for her. Her time at Hogwarts was done. One adventure was over.

But she had another one waiting for her. And she wasn’t going to miss it.