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a-spes · 3 days ago

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| DEVIOUS LIES — Part three (8.929 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It may have been two years since the events, but you still can't stop think about what you've lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further. Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity. What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader (platonic), Other Avengers x R. Angst with comfort, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, severe injuries, no happy ending.

| Author's notes — This is the last part of the "Devious Lies" serie, and I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

Many people would say that you are not a hero, not anymore. You have lost this title years ago, the day you revealed your true face to the world by cheating on Natasha —; how could they trust someone with their lives when that person can’t even remain loyal to their girlfriend? A hero is not a human, it is a perfect being that exists for the sole purpose of saving the world, and making children dream. You exist only to give hope to the population, but there is none once they discover that you are just like any of them, someone full of flaws, and failures, just a mess —; just human.

Who knows the horrible things you might have done in the past, or the numerous lies you could have said to twist the reality? Not them, because they know nothing of the truth behind your departure, but they were still convinced that you were a monster who had been lying to them all this time, and it was too late to undo their hatred. A few days had been enough for rumours to spread, suddenly everyone had a story to share that proves how wicked you were. These stories have slowly replaced those of your greatest achievements, the many times you saved the world now forgotten in favor of all the little things you did wrong.

And you know these stories by heart because you have read about them in newspapers, heard them on television and in cafés. Wherever you go, these rumors follow you, they stick to your skin like an obsessive ex that won’t let you go, even after several years. The people never forget, nor they forgive.

Yet, none of them had the courage to hate you to your face. No, it was always behind your back, a bunch of glances they thought were discreet and whispers as soon as you turned around. You might not be their hero anymore, but you haven’t lost your abilities, and they are aware that you could easily kill any of them in less than a minute. But, instead of letting the anger consumes you, you pretended to not see the fear in their eyes, mixed with hatred. Except that, the longer this situation lasted, the more difficult it became for you to ignore their hostility. You would lie if you said it didn’t bother you to see these emotions replace the admiration that used to sparkle in their eyes.

If you are being honest, you have thought about it, about killing some of them. These thoughts come to your mind more times that you care to admit —; it would be so easy to snap their necks so you will never hear their hateful whispers again.

What do you have to lose anyway?

Nothing you haven’t already. At worst, they will send you in prison, but to your exhausted mind the idea sounded more tempting than repellent. Sometimes, you think about it as a sweet dream, and it brings you some peace —; if you were in prison, you would be blessed with ignorance. If you were in prison, they would have a real reason to use these slurs. If you were in prison, you would eventually be where you deserve to be. But, no matter how many times you thought about it, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and so, instead, you shut yourself away in your crappy apartment, where you could no longer harm anyone.

— — —

“But you are still a hero,” the man told you. It was months ago, almost a year, and it was the first time you had seen Fury since the events that led you to take a break.

A break that was coming to an end, and that you were desperately trying to prolong. Unfortunately, the man is as stubborn as you are, and he is determined to convince you to return to the field. He needs you, and that is obvious, even though those words haven’t crossed his lips. You can feel his desperation.

You disagree with him.

You are not a hero, and he definitely doesn’t need you. There are dozens of agents more talented than you are, dozens of promising, and less controversial, souls who deserve a chance. He should better abandon you now, and let you rot in your apartment, because he will be disappointed sooner or later. But you didn’t tell him that. Instead, you stayed quiet, because the words were stuck in your throat.

“Don’t tell me that you are that kind of agent?” he asked, to fill the silence. The tone of his voice had changed slightly. There was something petty about it, something that is crawling under your skin —; it is the disappointment that his words carry. Yet, you have no idea what he is talking about —; “that kind of agent”? The worlds held no meaning to you, but you could still feel that they didn’t bode well, and that you didn’t want to be that kind of agent. You can see his eyebrows rise in anticipation of an answer you can’t give him.

“What kind?” you asked back, without any conviction, just because you know that is what he expects. You accompany these words with a sigh.

You are not in the mood for this kind of game. You only want one thing, and it is to go back to your apartment, to slip back into the comfort of your sheets and stay there for days to come. In fact, you may never leave them ever again. That is the only place where you can ignore the world, where all your worries disappear along with the rest. The only place where you do not need to be human, or pretend to be strong, where you can be a mess, and no one would be here to judge.

You were really not comfortable at the idea of coming here, to Fury’s office, at the S.H.I.E.L.D. 's headquarters, and being there makes the feeling even worse. He promised you that no one would know, but how could he be sure? The mere thought that one of them could see you there makes you nervous, and prevents you from concentrating.

What if it happens?

What if, despite Fury’s promises, you run into one of them?

You have no idea what you might tell them if it happens. Is it better to beg for their forgiveness, or would it be too much? You bet they wouldn’t even listen to you, anyway —; they haven’t in the past, why would it be different a year later?

Maybe they won’t even acknowledge you, and you should probably do the same —; but wouldn’t it be worse? You are not sure that you could handle this possibility, that you could walk by the people that once were your family as if they were complete strangers.

Maybe it is better if they decide to scream —; that is what a part of you is craving for, no matter how twisted it can be. Because, if they scream, if they still hate you, it means that they care, right? No one would take some of their time and energy to yell at someone they don’t care about, right? Because it wouldn’t make sense.

“The kind that does it for fame,” he replied, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. It was so intense that it made you want to disappear. You hate it, the way he looks at you, as if he knows all the secrets of your soul, and so you are fidgeting in your seat, unable to stay still because of your nerves.

“No, I am not,” you sighed the words that you knew the man was expecting you to say, falling right into his trap. You are conscious of it, but you are too exhausted to fight, and it is way much easier to give the man what he wants.

Yet, your voice is full of uncertainty —; does it make you a bad person to want to stop helping people? At least, that is what he seems to be suggesting, and maybe he is not wrong. Maybe the only reason you want to stop is because you are selfish —; anyone with your skills wouldn’t hesitate to save the world. But not you, not anymore. Why? When did you become one of the bad guys, one of those who don’t care about others?

You want to tell him — to yell at him — that it is not about lost celebrity, that it was about being hated by almost every soul living on earth, but the words get stuck in your throat —; what’s the difference, after all? Are you really gonna let people die because they do not like you, is that the kind of person you became? No, it is not, and it will never be.

“Does that mean I can count on you?” he asked, and you answered with a murmured yes, because that is what he wants to hear, and because you only want this conversation to end. From the very moment you sat on this chair, you have been eyeing the exit, and you are more than willing to give the man what he wants in exchange for the right to leave.

— — —

Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity.

What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain. It has been several years since you lost the title of hero. It is not about your great successes anymore, it is about all the mistakes you have ever made, the ones that make you detestable in the public’s eyes. Now, you are just an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and a controversial one at that. You are the rotten apple that the direction doesn’t really know what to do with. They might desperately need you — or, more accurately, your skills — but they do not want the world to discover that they didn’t fire you despite what they had announced to ease the minds.

Nevertheless, you had agreed to pretend, and to play Fury’s little games, because you didn’t know what else to do. You have been a little lost since you left the team, and the missions you were regularly sent on were a good distraction, but it has been months now, and you do not have the energy to pretend anymore.

Once this mission is over, the first thing you are going to do is to tell the man that it is over, you are quitting — yeah, you are going to leave the agency, and start a new life. The idea sounds appealing, and warms you heart with an emotion you thought you had forgotten; a will to live. You have waited long enough. You are not sure what you are going to do yet, but you know that it will be better — anything would be better than your current life. It will be a second chance, and a real one this time. Maybe you will change your name, and your face, and so you could be anyone you want to be — someone that no one hates.

But, for now, the only thing you want is some rest. Slowly, your limbs become numb and, soon enough, you are not able to walk anymore, the ground disappears beneath your feet and you collapse into the snow, your legs unable to support the weight of your body.

Maybe that is your second chance, you thought. Maybe the afterlife will be gentle.

It is so tempting to just close your eyes, to let the cold soothe your pain, and take all your worries away. You don’t know how long you have been walking, wandering around, waiting for help that may never come — probably for days. Days that seemed like an eternity. You were trapped in a landscape that you would surely have found magnificent, had the circumstances of your presence here been different.

The snow falling from the sky covers everything, and not an ounce of greenery escapes it. Yet, the sight wasn’t comforting — it was threatening, and scary. It was so cold that you couldn’t feel your fingertips. Everything was white, and all looked the same, turning the forest into a maze with no way out. The trees rose up, mocking and oppressive, as if they were only waiting for the moment you would give up.

Be patient. It will be soon, you thought, as your body hit the ground in silence.

You hardly notice you’ve fallen. You don’t even have the strength to try and get up, but maybe you don’t want to. The snow forms a gentle embrace, and you feel it begin to cover you in white too. Soon, you are going to disappear, and you��ll become a part of the landscape — How is it going to take, for nature to hide your body, to make it seem like you have never been here? A few hours? And how long would it take for them to find you? Probably more time. Who is “them”, anyway? You are not sure someone is coming from you, and despite your hopes, it is more likely that they won’t come. Did you forget that you have no one? If people do not care enough to show up at your funerals, do you really think that they would go to the trouble of looking for you in the middle of nowhere? What an idiot you are, you should know, by now, that there is no hope.

No one is coming.

Even though the idea might sound sad, it brings a small smile to your face, as well as a weird sense of comfort — The peace you’ve been looking for is eventually within your reach. Soon, the world is going to forget your name, and your story. Maybe they won’t even know that you died here, alone in the woods, where no one can find your body.

You have tried to warn them about the situation. A last desperate plea for help to be sent, but you never found out if they got your message because your broken radio had died before they could confirm. Despite being an experienced agent, you have been caught out of guard by the situation — Should you wait for them here, or should you try to find a way back home on your own? The decision was made for you when the enemies started looking for you, there was no way you could escape them by staying in their base. Outside, you could hide more easily, and maybe even find a way out of here.

Yet, the days went by, and all you have done is get lost in the forest, a labyrinth made deadly by the snow and very low temperatures. There is no room for life in this place, and the fact that you survived for a few days is a miracle in itself.

You were perfectly aware of the risks when you accepted the mission. There are always high risks in this profession, and you were prepared to take them all, even the most irrational ones because nothing scared you — That’s your strength, you’ve never shied away from a mission. You knew that it wouldn’t go on forever, and that the risks you were taking would eventually lead to your demise — But who cares? Not you, nor Fury. Maybe it was exactly what you were both looking for-; the man wanted a soldier, and you wanted a way to die with dignity, which is exactly what he offered you.

And so, you accepted every mission he presented to you, worked on every file that was put on your desk without thinking twice about it. There was always a good reason to accept, many lives to save, and countless threats to the world, and for that, you were willing to take the risks that nobody else wanted to take. That’s what heroes do, right? They put their lives in line, for the sake of the population.

So far, you have done surprisingly well, successfully returning from each of your missions. Yet, you knew it was only a matter of time before you ran out of luck. Maybe your current situation is solely your fault, for thinking that you could keep pushing your limits indefinitely — For forgetting that you are not a hero, only human. The blood between your fingers is there to remind you of that. It is red, as the one of all the people who live on this planet, and you can pretend all you like that you are a hero, but you’ll never be able to escape your condition, that of being human.

Yet, there is something oddly comforting in watching your blood staining the snow. Something that cradles you until your eyes close, something that helps you accept your destiny. These bloodstains are the silent promise that peace will soon arrive, the peace you have waited patiently for for years.

— — —

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” the woman screamed, her voice echoing throughout the room. No one dared looking at her, everyone avoiding her gaze. The team had just returned from yet another search mission, one of their last hopes of finding you, only to inform her that they had lost track of you — Again.

The woman knows that she should not have listened to Clint when he told her that she’d better stay in the Quinjet and rest, something she has clearly been lacking in recent days. He even promised her that he would do his best. They all promised, but it was just lies.

Natasha has waited for them for hours, obviously unable to rest because she was so consumed with anxiety. She had walked the whole length of the Quinjet more times than she can count, waiting for their return. When they came back empty-handed, she was furious. Not only they didn’t find you, but above all they had lost the only hint of your presence that they had managed to find since the search began, almost a week ago.

If she had been with them, things would have been different. She would have found you, she is sure of it — because she would have refused to come back before that happened.

Everything now seemed hopeless, and everyone was aware of this. That probably explains why they are abiding her gaze, not to escape her anger, but because they do not want to witness the pain they could read in her eyes. The spy had always been good at hiding her emotions, and no one had ever been able to read her — even after you left, two years ago, she remained composed — but her mask had started to crack in the last few days, and everyone could now see her worries.

Natasha was the one who insisted for the Avengers to come for you, and although she insists that this decision is only motivated by her duty, everyone knows there is more to it than that — Feelings that the years had not erased, strong ones that she had buried, but which were resurfacing since she learned that you were in danger. You are her weakness, you are the only one that can make her lose her temper that easily, it is as if she was suddenly a child again — One with emotions too big for his understanding. It is like two years ago, when she saw the pictures and felt her heart being shattered.

“It is okay, I am sure that we are going to find her,” a voice raised, and it was Fury’s. The man was the only one to be brave enough to do such a thing, the only one who didn’t fear the redhead, even though he was the one who should be most wary. The man is standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, his arms crossed — They could have been talking about their next meal, and he would have had the same fucking attitude, she thought. “She is strong, and smart. I am sure she will find a way to survive, do not underestimate her, Romanoff,” he calmly added, but his disastrous attempt to calm the atmosphere has the opposite effect — All she wanted to do was to violently rip the expression on his face, she couldn’t stand the overconfidence she could read on it, and the calmness that didn’t fit with the seriousness of the situation.

“You know nothing,” she replied through gritted teeth, the only way she had found to not scream at him, “you are just trying to make yourself feel better about what’s happening because it is your fault. One of your agents is going to die, and it is all your fault!” she yelled the last sentence, unable to keep her voice low as she felt the rage building inside her. The man didn’t even care, he sees you as an asset, not as a human.

“She is an agent, Romanoff, and one of the best. It is her job to take risks, and she knew them before accepting the mission. This regrettable accident is no one’s fault,” he said, unimpressed by the redhead’s outburst.

“Oh, please!” she exclaimed with a bitter laugh, “this mission wasn’t risky, it was suicidal, and you are perfectly aware of that. No one in their right mind would have accepted it, but she was vulnerable, and you knew it, and took advantage of her state to get what you wanted!” she had moved closer, until she was almost spitting in his face, until the accusing finger she was pointing at him almost touched his chest. She knows the man and his tricks, she knows that he always finds a way to get what he wants. “I hope it was worth it because, if we don’t find her alive, I’ll make sure to bury you next to her grave,” she spitted, not even trying to hide her threat — No, not a threat. It was more than that, it was a promise.

Those are the last words she said before leaving the Quinjet.

They have been looking for you for days, and everyone is painfully aware that the chances of finding you are diminishing with every passing minute. Yet, the woman is not ready to stop, not until she has hugged you one last time, dead or alive. Looking for you was no easy task, and every clue they have found eventually led to a dead end — You are too skilled for your own good, she thought, and it was almost frustrating. If it wasn’t for your skills, and your ability to disappear without leaving a trace, they would have found you days ago. If it wasn’t for your skills, Fury would have never sent you on this mission alone, and he definitely wouldn’t have waited for so long before sending a rescue team.

The woman had to beg him, to scream, for him to accept to give in some pieces of information about how you were doing. He said that you were fine. He said that you were fine, but it was just a lie. He looked at her, promising that nothing would happen to you, but he only said that to get her out of his office. As she later learned, the man had no idea of how you were doing because it was a no-contact mission, and if you gave them news, it would only be to share bad ones.

She heard the message you sent, a plea for help playing on a loop in her mind. Despite the poor quality of the transmission, and the cut words that prevented them from understanding your situation clearly, she could feel your fear, one that made her blood run cold — The woman has never heard you being so scared before.

Fury has waited two days before sharing the message with her. He said that he was positive you would find a way out on your own, and it would be too risky to send a team there when they had no idea how the situation was, but she hadn’t listened to him. All the woman could see was how he almost ruined every chance to rescue you for some ego problems, and foolish confidence — Everyone knows that after two days the chances of finding a missing person alive are slim.

She hates him for that. She hates him for allowing you to die.

Or maybe it is herself that she hates, for letting you down years ago, when you needed her the most — If she hadn't, none of that would have happened, you wouldn’t have taken such risks in the hope of achieving some kind of redemption.

“What do you want?” she asked curtly to the person that was following her. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was — Steve. In recent years, the man had developed the bad habit of following her wherever she went, convinced that she needed him.

“You forgot that,” he said, and she looked over her shoulder at the jacket in his hands. A wry smile appeared on her lips at the sight of the garment.

“Because I don’t need it,” she sighed, her tone as cold as the forest because of how exasperated she was by the way the man was trying to play hero. Maybe he was one for the rest of the world, but the woman definitely didn’t need to be saved, and especially not by a man that is convinced he knows everything better than everyone else.

“And, how exactly, do you expect to be able to help her if you are freezing to death?” He asked, trying to coax her into taking the jacket — But only someone who doesn’t know her well could imagine having any chance of convincing the woman.

“Did you forget where I am from, Roger?” She asked back, stopping in her tracks to face him, the sudden act surprising the man who almost ran into her, “If you are cold, then you can go back to the jet. No one asked you to follow me. So now, shut up or leave me alone,” she warned him before resuming her journey, the man at her heels. Natasha wasn’t walking in the forest for pleasure, and she couldn’t afford any distraction.

The woman has to concentrate to make sure she doesn’t miss any traces of your presence. These are rare, almost imperceptible, and easily hidden by the snow. She needs to be sure that she won’t miss anything, and that is something she can’t do if the centenarian doesn’t stop rambling in her ears.

Fortunately, the message seems to have got through because not a word was spoken for the next hours, and the two Avengers just walked in silence. Only the snow crunching under their feet broke the heavy silence. It had been hours, and the landscape didn’t seem to change, giving the impression that they were walking in place, or that they were going in circles. No matter where her eyes landed, all she could see were snow-covered trees, but that was until she spotted it. It was almost invisible, but there was no way she was going to miss the only thing that wasn’t white in the landscape — A red stop. A spot of blood, probably caused by a few drops, but that was leading to a trail staining the forest’s perfect white coat.

“Wait! Where are you going?” the man exclaimed when he noticed that his partner had run off, but he got no answer. His eyes weren’t as sharp as hers, and so he didn’t notice the stains straight away.

When he finally catches up with the woman, he was so taken aback by the scene that he was unable to move, or speak. It was so unexpected that he felt like he was daydreaming, and wondered if it wasn’t the cold that was causing him to hallucinate.

There, a few meters away from him, the redhead was kneeling in the snow. She was close to a body whose identity was in no doubt — You. Suddenly, all he can see is the rigidity of your body, the bluish tint of your lips, the snow that is covering your face, but above all the scarlet puddle that is staining the snow, so big that no one could miss it.

“Give me the jacket,” she asked him, her tone firm despite the obvious tremor in her voice. Her eyes never leave you, even for a moment, perhaps because she was afraid that you would disappear, and that she would lose you, again. “Steve. The jacket,” she asked again, but more urgently this time, “give me the fucking jacket, and go get the others!” she repeated, and the shout seems to shake the man out of his torpor because he eventually hands her the jacket before running off, in the direction of the jet.

Natasha didn’t look back, but she heard his footsteps in the snow as he walked away. Now alone, she gently lifts your body, wrapping you in the jacket, and even pulling the hood down your face to protect you from the snow and wind. She can’t help but let her hands linger on your visage, her thumb gently tracing your features, then brushing past your now blue lips to eventually follow the wound on your cheek.

For a few seconds, she allows herself to get lost in the familiarity of your face, but the blood that is left on her thumb after she ran it over your cheek brings her back to reality — You are dying. Maybe you already are, dead. Yet, there is not much she can do before the arrival of the rest of the team, except praying to all the gods whose names she knows, even though she has never believed in them — Please, if you exist, it is the moment to do something good, she thought, and the woman was so deep in her thoughts, trying to keep the last shred of sanity she had, because the last thing you need is for her to lose her temper, that she missed it at first, those words that came out of your mouth.

“What?” she asked, a little abruptly, as her eyes fell on your face. Your expression hadn’t changed, your eyes were still closed, and so were your lips, giving the impression that she had imagined the whisper. “Did you say something?” She nevertheless asked, and several seconds passed in silence. She felt the hope that had made her heart beat being replaced by despair, until she notices the trembling of your lips as they try to come to life. At first, no sound escapes, only a whimper that breaks her heart. “Shh, it is okay, take your time, baby. You can do it,” she quietly encouraged you as she noticed your struggles.

Her hands cup your face, and the warmth of the contact, accompanied by the circles her thumbs are tracing on your cheeks, is comforting. It helps you to ignore the pain for a moment. The gesture even gave you the strength to talk.

“You..,” you started, but this simple word requires so much effort that you need to catch your breath before continuing. “ ..came..,” you eventually added, the second word coming out as a broken whisper, and the woman has to be close if she wants to understand what you are saying.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, “yes, I did. W- We are all here, baby,” she softly replied, her voice trembling slightly because of emotion, just like her hands as she continued cradling your face.

They are here? All of them? You thought, and the realization brings tears to your eyes. The woman can also feel tears welling up in her eyes, and you can see them. Yet, she should not cry. She has no right to cry when you need her to be strong and calm your fears. The woman knows it and yet, she can’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. For so long, she had hoped to see you again, prayed for a second chance even though she knew she didn’t deserve it, but she hadn’t imagined that life could be cruel enough to offer her what she most wanted under the worst circumstances — Once again, she was about to lose the most important person in her life.

“Is.. that.. end.. ?” You painfully asked the woman.

You have once heard a belief saying that the Angel in charge of helping a soul to travel to the other side always takes the appearance of the person the deceased loved the most during their life. You wouldn’t have expected anyone but the redhead to be yours. You may have tried to hate her for years, but the truth is that you have been unable to stop loving the woman.

“Because..,” you continued, but were stopped by a violent coughing fit. “Am.. ready.. now..,” you eventually managed to say. You want nothing more than to touch her face one last time, but your body refuses to listen to your desire and, as you try to move your hand, all you manage to do is to wiggle your fingertips — But it is okay, you thought. You are content enough with being able to see her one last time, and knowing that her comforting touch is the last thing you would feel before Death wraps its arms around your body, taking you somewhere where pain does not exist.

“The.. end?” The woman repeated after you, a bit confused at your words, and you can tell because of how her eyebrows are knitted together. “Oh no, honey, it is not,” she whispered, trying to bring you a bit of comfort. “You are going to be fine, I promise,” she said, repeating those words a few times, unsure if they are really meant for you.

“I.. know.., I.. believe.. you..,” you whispered back.

“Then stay with me, baby, okay? Keep your eyes open for me, please. Just a few more minutes, and then everything will be fine, I promise. Do you think you can do that for me?” She started rambling when she noticed that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Yet, it doesn’t seem to work as she watches you slowly slip into unconsciousness. “Tell me, love, where does it hurt? Could you do that for me?” She attempted, hoping that the question would be enough to ground you, to keep you here, with her, until the others arrive.

“Everywhere..,” you whispered, and it was the last thing you said. You were in so much pain that your whole body was numb, and you could barely feel something, unable to tell the difference between your arms and legs.

You are not sure what happened next, or how long it was before the rest of the team arrived, because despite Natasha’s attempts to encourage you to stay awake, you ended up losing consciousness. The last thing you were aware of was the sound of a vehicle, along with a few words that were yelled, and even if you couldn’t understand what they were saying, you were able to grasp the urgency in their tones. The last thing you remember was being lifted. That is when you knew you could do, before the arms that were carrying you were comforting, they were the promise that everything would be fine now.

After all, she promised. Didn’t she?

— — —

It was all a lie, when she promised that things would be okay now.

Since the very moment you have opened your eyes, after a few days spent in a coma, the world has been nothing but pain. She had promised you a world where suffering doesn’t exist, but had given you the exact opposite, every day being worse than the one that preceded it. Your wounds won’t heal, and despite the weeks that had passed, you were unable to walk properly, or anything without help. Every step you make, every breath you take, are the reminders of what was taken from you.

You had wished for Death. You had waited for the moment you could leave this world almost impatiently, but when the time eventually came, you were brutally ripped from Its arms. When the woman wrapped her arms around you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace, whispering the promise that everything would be fine now, you naively believed her. It is not before it was too late that you realized your mistake. You have thought that the woman you saw was your angel, but it has only been Natasha, a human, with her flaws and mysteries.

Why did she even decide to come?

The question has not left your mind since you opened your eyes. It raises a feeling of confusion, and anger, because there is no explanation you could think of that would make a bit of sense.

You have not talked since they brought you there, at the compound. It is a place that you’ve never thought you would ever see again, but mostly a place you never wanted to return to. At first, they thought that you just needed a bit of time to adapt, but the days soon became weeks, and you remained locked in your silence despite their many attempts to encourage you to say a few words. The only sounds they have heard coming from you are the whimpers of pain that sometimes fall past your lips.

Natasha has tried to speak to you, but you would always ignore her questions and ramblings. Yet, it has never stopped her from trying. Even though she is not sure that you can hear her, even though whenever she enters your room, she finds you looking out of the window, staring blankly. The woman had stopped closing the shutters a while ago, so you would always have something to look at, but you probably didn’t even notice the difference. It seems that your mind is somewhere else, somewhere she can’t reach.

You are far from here, from this room you hate with your whole heart but that you can’t leave despite your desires. A room that is not yours, and certainly not home despite what they may say, and you would rather be anywhere else, even if it means locking yourself in your thoughts.

It is something they would have known if they had asked you, but apparently they didn’t think to ask for your opinion when deciding your future. The Avengers Tower is quiet, and comfortable. Somewhere you are familiar with, and where you would be able to get the care you need — The perfect place. The only place. You have no family, no friends, that could have agreed to take care of you until you are back on your feet. The Avengers may not be your family anymore, but they are the only ones who have agreed to bear this responsibility — Or most likely they felt like they had to. You probably want to be here as much as they want you to be there, and you know that they are silently praying that you will go away soon. You are the constant reminder of what they want to forget.

And so, you have slowly found comfort in your own mind. The only place where they can’t bother you, where suffering and time does not exist. Except that, as the days go by, it gets harder to ignore the woman. She is the only one who has never given up, always trying to talk to you when she comes to your room, even though you have never replied once. Whenever she comes to bring your meal, or your medicine, or help you to change, she would stay a bit longer, rambling about anything that comes to her mind — And you hate it. You don’t care about her last mission, nor do you care about the last movie she has seen.

When she is here, time seems to flow slowly, minutes becoming a painful eternity. You wish the woman would understand your silence as the sign that you don’t want to talk, but it is apparently not a sufficient clue because she has never stopped talking.

The last thing you want is to get out of your caparace, because you don’t want to see what is outside, but it becomes almost impossible to ignore the world when the woman keeps invading your bubble. Her voice, her soft touches,.. they held a new promise — Everything will be fine, she continues saying, but now you know it is not true. You have fallen for her lies one time, and promised to yourself that you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. These touches didn’t bring you any comfort, only frustration which then turned into anger. You have felt it boiling inside you for days now — Until you couldn’t bear it any more.

“Why?” You whispered. The woman was helping you to put on clean pyjamas, and you think she was rambling about her day when you cut her off with your question.

You are not sure why you have decided to talk that day. You are not even sure that it was your decision, the broken whisper falling past your lips before you could realize what was happening. You wish you could take back your word, but it was too late. The woman was as surprised as you were, judging by the expression on her face. Her lips are moving, but it is her turn to be at a loss of words.

Somehow, the hesitation you could read on her face made yours disappear instantaneously. Suddenly, you didn’t want to stay silent anymore. You wanted to be heard, to get the anger out of your body because you couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.

“Why?!” You repeated, but this time you yelled the question. At least, it was the intention, but after so much time without talking, the word was nothing like a scream, only a strangled cry. Yet, despite your voice being weak, you realized that you didn’t want to stay quiet anymore — Not now, when you just got it back. Not when there are so many things you want to say, to scream in their faces.

“Why what?” She softly asked, stopping what she was doing for a second. Her hands were resting on your knees as she was talking. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, and had to lower your head a little to meet her eyes. Yet, she doesn’t dare to hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.

You scoff when she looks away, doing the same thing as you can feel tears coming in your eyes. She must not see them. “Playing games, are we?” You said back. Your tone is venomous, your words rude, and meant to hurt the woman, even though she took care of you the past few weeks.

It may sound unfair to treat the woman after all she has done for you — After she saved your life. Yet, she is still the one who dumped you years ago, the one who broke your heart, ruined your life, and made promises she couldn’t keep. The truth is that, if you can’t handle her presence, it is because you know that you don’t want her to be really gone — You shouldn’t, but you want more of it, more of her and her reassuring presence. Her sudden gentleness, after she pushed you away so violently, is building your hopes back up. A feeling that is painful when you know that they would never become a reality.

“Listen,.. I-,” she sighed, but before she could find the right words to answer your questions, you cut her, again. You already had enough, wanting this conversation to end, and now.

“If you can’t give me an honest answer, then I don’t want to listen to you,” you abruptly said, warning the woman that she should carefully choose her next words.

The woman may want to say something, but when she opens her lips, no sound comes out — Because she has no idea what to say. The truth is that Natasha is as confused as you are, the same unanswered questions occupying her mind. She doesn’t know why she went after you, and the lack of response keeps her awake at night.

The woman simply knew that she needed to be there, that her place was by your side, and no word was strong enough to describe how worried she had been about you all this time, a feeling that has lingered inside her since you left. She pretended not to care, tried to bury these feelings as she had been raised to do, but it never really left.

You had poisoned her soul, her heart.

But you know. You already know the answers to your questions, you only asked because you wanted to hear them from her mouth. You want her to admit that her actions were only guided by her guilt, not by the love she pretends to bear for you, because that is the only way you would be able to get rid of the painful hope that, maybe, things could go back to the way they used to be.

But obviously she wouldn’t say that.

The great Natasha Romanoff would never admit that she is selfish, and imperfect.

That she is far from the hero everyone thinks she is.

“Get. out,” you eventually asked the woman. She has hesitated, and missed her chance to say something. “GET OUT,” you yelled when you noticed she was about to protest, “LEAVE ME ALONE,” you added, pushing the woman who was kneeling in front of you with all your strength. When she didn’t budge, it only added to your distress.

For once, she listened to you, and left the room. The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and just like that you found yourself plunged into the silence you’ve been longing for — Yet, it didn’t feel as comforting as you expected it to be.

Somehow, since that day, you have only felt worse. Since you have found your voice again, you only used it to express your anger, yelling at anyone trying to get into your room. It has been several days now, that your cries have been echoing in the tower, making it clear that you wanted to be left alone. If the past few weeks you have been bearing Natasha’s presence, it wasn’t the case anymore, and now the woman couldn’t even do something as simple as knocking at your door without you screaming. You do not want to see, hear, or feel her — Even the mere thought of the redhead was too much.

All of them had tried to step in your room, convinced they would be the one able to calm you down, but everything they achieved was to worsen the situation. Eventually, they stopped coming, giving you the loneliness you thought you wanted — Then why are not feeling better, now that you have what you asked for?

You are torn apart by contradictory feelings and needs, unable to quite understand what is going on in your mind — It is obvious that you don’t want to see Natasha. And yet, everytime someone other than the woman opened this door, you felt disappointment filling your heart. Maybe that is why you yelled, why you were so angry.

When they eventually stopped knocking at your door, you caught yourself hoping for them to come back. Your days are now an endless succession of hopes, built up at every sound of footsteps in the corridor, and disappointments, when you eventually hear them going away. She has proven you right, you thought. She has proven to you that she doesn’t care, and you have used up all your tears crying over this idea, days and nights.

You wish you hadn’t said those things, that you hadn’t screamed at the woman, because you were now missing her presence. Her gentleness may have been annoying, but it has been so long since the last time someone has been this gentle with you, that now it was gone, you were craving to get it back. She gave you a second chance, and you have thrown it away for what? Nothing.

It took a few days before you eventually decided to leave your room. It was not by choice, obviously, and you only agreed to leave the comfort of your bed because of the hunger that was slowly gnawing at your insides. The last meal you got was the same day as the last time you saw Natasha, and you knew you couldn’t go much longer without eating. At first, you told yourself you would endure the pain, that you deserved it for what you did to the woman, but it didn’t make it more bearable, and you eventually gave in.

The plan you made in your mind was easy — Waiting for the night to come, make sure that no one is awake, and then quickly getting down to the kitchen. Only a few minutes, only time to grab some snacks before making it back to the comfort of your room. Yet, you should have known that things never go as they are meant to.

The journey to the kitchen was everything but easy. You have probably been a bit too optimistic about your ability to walk when you thought about your plan. The pain in your leg was so intense that you were only able to take a few steps before collapsing, and had to almost drag yourself down there. Every step felt like running miles, leaving you short of breath. And yet, despite all your efforts, despite your strong will, you were eventually forced to give up when your legs have once again shifted under your weight, leaving you on the ground, unable to get up despite your attempts.

When even crawling felt too demanding, you were left with no choices but to wait for someone to rescue you. Suddenly, you were submerged by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, and shame, that only worsened when you heard footsteps. You didn’t say anything, and only closed your eyes, hiding your tears behind your eyelids. You were softly praying that whoever is here would ignore your limp figure, scattered on the living-room’s floor, and do whatever they came here for as if you weren’t here.

“Oh sweetie, no.. I won’t do that,” a feminine voice softly said, and you immediately recognize it as Wanda’s. It holds a gentleness that is unique.

Your suspicions are confirmed a moment later, when the woman kneels beside you. For a second, you thought about pushing her away, especially when her hand brushes your hair out of your face. The witch is aware of that, but she also knows that, deep down, behind the walls that you’ve built to protect yourself, you were craving for her attention. That’s why the woman didn’t remove her hand right away, a sad smile stretching her lips when she realized how you were leaning into her touch.

“Are you hungry?” She eventually asked, and you opened your eyes, a bit surprised by the sudden question. You blink, twice, unable to give the woman a verbal answer — But she doesn’t need one. She is perfectly aware of why you came downstairs, and she doesn’t need to use her mind-reading abilities to know that, already aware of how you have been refusing to eat anything for the past few days. “Good,” she whispered, careful with her words. She couldn’t risk you shutting down, again. “Because I was cooking, but did way too much for one person,” she explained, smiling.

It is a lie, and you both are aware of that.

It is past midnight, and the woman was probably just looking for some water. She definitely wasn’t cooking, and is probably not even hungry, but she knows that this innocent lie would help you to feel less guilty. The woman knows how stubborn you can be, and how you would probably have refused if she had proposed to cook you a meal, scared of wasting her time. Yet, she couldn’t let you go back to your room with only a snack. You need energy, if you want to get back on your feet as soon as possible.

“Come here,” she said when you hesitantly nodded, “let me help you,” she added, and you didn’t protest when the woman wrapped her arms around you — Her embrace was soft, and comforting.

“I got you,” she whispered in your mind, “everything will be fine now,” and, this time, the words felt true. It has been a long time since you felt as safe as you did in the Witch’s arms, the woman being the only one who has never treated you differently, or hated you for what happened years ago. She was the hope that things could work out.

THE END. —

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @liasxeatt, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

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lemotmo · 4 months ago

Note

Some of them clearly got the point of Tim's call-out.

Q. What did you make of Tim's interview? I realize the bulk was Lonestar but the fandom stuff was interestingly phrased. The fact that so many people involved with the show, and now the showrunner himself, are openly discussing how bad things are cannot be a good sign. I know we had some fans who were saying we could 'bully' Tim and the show into giving us more Tommy but I think that was a massive mistake in hindsight. I think certain people got carried away and went way too far. Weather their intentions were ever bad or not I just think some people took the bullying idea too far. I'm a little worried we may not see Tommy at all now.

A. The bullying idea was always going to be a massive mistake. Normally you can take Tim's interviews with a bit of 'lol, why is he so dramatic' because he's not immune to getting his feelings hurt, and using his interviews to tell people that. In this case though it was definitely a direct callout. I have been here from the beginning and the show has never experienced anything close to what they have experienced this off-season. It's one thing to root for a particular show ship it's another thing entirely to openly send, and openly encourage others, to send hate to the cast and creators of a show. Then those same fans dragged the lighting director, director of photography, show directors and professional media members who have covered the show for years into their bullying game as well. It was insane, pathetically immature behavior. At times it was also incredibly disturbing. And every single bit of it can be traced back to the cameo videos. The second the storyline they were paying to be told didn't match the storyline we were actually watching they revolted.

And unfortunately because I think Tim, and ABC, just didn't think they were anything worth paying attention to initially, he was allowed to do them way too long. The more he did the more obsessed with him that particular group of people became. This has nothing to do with 911. Those people aren't at all interested in 911. Their entire interest is Lou and Lou alone. It's a small group of people. A small sick group of people who created a bunch of separate accounts in order to appear to be more people than they actually are (and they were stupid enough to openly admit that is what they did). Then that small group of people got together and from every single one of their many accounts they attacked as a group. They started with Oliver. They pointed out that Oliver wasn't interacting with Lou or engaging with any of them, or B/T content, and decided, at least initially, that he was solely to blame for B/T not getting the attention they thought it deserved, again the Buck part they don't care about. They were upset that they weren't seeing more of Tommy and they blamed Oliver for that. Suddenly Oliver was being tagged in posts that were calling him unprofessional, immature, bratty, selfish, and because of course, homophobic (they're really not a bright group of people). However instead of taking their bait and engaging with them, Oliver, rightly, blocked them. Meaning they needed a new target. Briefly it became Tim because their moronic leader screenshot a message she sent him that he, stupidly, responded to. She took that and spun and ENTIRE relationship theory and spread it through her many accounts. Tim then admitted in another comment that he actually didn't know what she was talking about but didn't want to be rude by continuing to ignore her so he responded to her. He then said that was a mistake and he wouldn't be responding to anything else. And he hasn't (she should be very embarrassed by his interview today because he may as well have used her name). And the show also continued to not align with her/their theory and they got more upset. Then found a new target.

Throughout the season Oliver did what Oliver has always done. Oliver posted, liked and promoted Eddie/Buddie/Buckley Diaz family content. He has always done this. This was nothing new. But it infuriated Lou's fans and they turned their anger on Ryan. Suddenly Eddie was the worst character in the history of television. He was an abuser (to Buck especially), he was a user (of Buck especially). He was a terrible friend (to Buck especially). Depending on the day he was either a deadbeat dad or obsessed with his kid in an unhealthy way (they couldn't ever really decide which way to go on this one. That opinion was dependent on how the poster felt about Chris). When that attack didn't really get the attention they were begging for, they changed direction and made it personal. Post after post, that Ryan was always tagged in, calling him racist, a deadbeat dad, an asshole, unprofessional, manipulative and controlling of Oliver (wtf, god they really are a stupid group of people), a whore (I actually read that one myself, it was a trip), a terrible actor that only has a job because Tim thinks he's hot. And so on and so on. At first Tommy didn't kiss Eddie because Ryan is homophobic and refused to do the storyline, then Tim, very publicly, corrected that lie so Lou's fans had to pivot and said Lou actually refused to do the Eddie storyline because he knows Ryan isn't a good guy ( a special kind of crazy that makes me need to drink ). Then they sunk to their sickest, lowest, most pathetic, vile, disturbing, and inexcusable moment. Ryan did a podcast where he discussed his past mental health struggles and suicidal thoughts. They went into the comments on the podcast and told Ryan that they wish he had committed suicide. That if he had killed himself then Tommy could have his screen time and they wouldn't have to see Buck have scenes with Eddie. Not only did they leave those comments (the podcast has since deleted most of them, thankfully), they sent similar messages directly to Ryan on Instagram. Knowing he would see them. It was appalling and very, very disturbing. The cameo videos ended fairly shortly after. These people are sick. They get zero sympathy or understanding from me. It's a fucking television show. Tommy is not a real person. Ryan is a real person.

As for maybe not seeing Tommy at all, I would imagine conversations have certainly taken place. He was never sticking around permanently. The conversations most likely involved deciding if they needed him at all, and if they did, how many actual scenes did they need him for. I don't work on the show, but if they decided he wasn't necessary to the storyline, and they could get away with his stuff happening off screen I would imagine he's been dismissed. They probably decided they needed him at least for a few scenes though. Unless other things happened behind the scenes we're not aware of he will be around the first few episodes at least and then and probably no more. He can take his tiny army with him when he leaves. No one will miss them.

Okay, just ... yeah, all of this. It's crazy how these people did all of these horrible things in the name of... a ship? I mean, what?

I've been in fandom for a very long time and I have been shipping characters for a very long time, but I've never seen behaviour like this. Behaviour where people think they are justified to bully, harass and vilify the actors playing a character on a TV-show. To the point where they get blocked by the actors and crew.

I don't understand what would drive someone to do that? I genuinly don't.

These are the kind of people that need to put down their phones forever, go outside and touch all the grass they can touch. After that they should never watch 911 again. If you don't like something, just walk away. I have done that before. Shows don't always go where a fan wants it to go.

Look. I want Buddie. You all know that. I'm 99% certain that we're getting Buddie in season 8. But, if it turns out we won't, which is always a possibility since I don't know what Tim is cooking up, I will be disappointed, but I won't start spewing hatred all over the place. I will just take a step back and focus on other things in life. I'll keep shipping Buddie and read fanfiction. I'll be fine here in my Buddie corner of the Internet with my Buddie mutuals.

So yeah, this is insane behaviour to me. I truly don't get it.

Thanks Nonny for dropping this in my inbox!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting these anon OP updates instead of reblogging. Don't get mad at me. There is a reason for it and it's all done with consent from the OP. You can find out more about that here.

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #insight into 911 fandom & season 7 and 8 #BT fandom #oliver stark #ryan guzman #911 abc #nonnies galore

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leafostuff · 6 months ago

Text

One Heck of a Joyride[Ft. WooAh's Nana]

Word Count: 14-15K~ words

Collab with @octoberautumnbox

My Author's Notes: we are so excited to finally release this fic for yall, me and box have been working on this fic since the end of FEBRUARY (almost 3 months) and we have been working on it so hard to make it the best it can be so I really hope you will enjoy this fic

@octoberautumnbox's author notes: there u have it! took the better part of three months, but it was really fun to work on :DDDD Thanks to leafo for making sure i didn't slack LMAO

No tags since it is too long but this is fluff and smut

Thanks: of course @octoberautumnbox for working with me on this amazing collab. @4m1rz for being my lovely beta reader and @libraryoferos for being my motivation to not be lazy on this fic

And so without any further preface, let's get started, shall we?

================================================

“And I expect you all to get along this year. Leave the past behind you as you all face a new future together.” Sporadic applause rises slowly from the crowd and dies down twice as quickly. The dean sighs away from the mic and drifts offstage, leaving everyone disinterested in the rest of the program. It all goes by in a blur, and finally ends right as the air conditioners start to fail against the heat of a summer not-yet-ended.

Your attention is drawn away from the droning on and on from the stage and towards the many characters that populate the theater with you. You catch glimpses of people talking with their friends, a few crazy hair colours, and the occasional sleeping student who’s no doubt already saving up hours for the all-nighters to come.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone in the front row with both people sitting next to her conspicuously leaning away. They seem to want to get up and leave her there by herself, but the way she gives no reaction despite the jeering tone coming from her seatmates leads you to think that she’s asleep herself.

~~~

“So yeah, That's the tour, bucko. Check the map if you’re ever lost.” Your student tour guide points at the multi-colored document on your phone. Vaguely you recall the various little symbols: which classrooms you can sleep in, which bathrooms are haunted, which shortcuts are best, all of the must-know basics of college life.

As you continue scanning around the campus, the girl from the assembly catches your attention again. She has her hood up this time, but you can tell it’s her; her quick pacing and how she is not looking around at anyone making you believe that she’s trying her best to hide.

“What about that one? Do we not talk about her?” you ask, pointing at the oblivious figure walking past, drawing eyes and whispers much like your own.

Your guide scoffs at the absurd idea. “That’s Nayeon. And no, we don’t. She fucked up last year, big time. Got a bunch of us in trouble. So stay away from her, she has those goody-two-shoes germs.” he says, walking away as while signaling you to follow him.

You wonder what she could have done to gain such a reputation. She was adorable earlier with her hood off, but the way people talk about her makes you want to steer clear against your own will.

~-~-~-~

Curiosity ends up killing the cat, and you manage to gather bits and pieces of the incident from last year from gossip, class lore, and even the way some professors acted:

“She’s the luckiest bitch in the world with not a single shred of common sense. Seriously, who goes and rats on a hundred other students like that?”

“The test incident shows she only looks out for herself, even if it means bringing down the entire class.”

“There’s really no excuse for it. You have the answer key in your hand, of course you take a picture! You don’t just leave it where it’ll incriminate some other innocent loser and say you’re only trying to do the right fucking thing.”

The sheer number of factoids you gather from the wild bunch of sources only slightly make sense. Unfortunately, trying to piece them together only took up more space and brainpower which you should have used to study for your midterms coming up. Keep to yourself and you can just barely pass and move on; there is no time for college drama.

After the exam, you approach the professor to ask about possibly bumping up your grade. You decided to maybe half-ass an extra credit assignment and get the lowest passing score, but you resolve to just see where it goes. While lost in thought, you nearly bump into the small girl in front of you. already talking to the teacher, and by the way they’re whispering, it seems like it’s something serious.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here anymore, Miss Kwon,” the professor admits as he takes off his glasses and rubs his nose bridge. “None of this was necessary. I thought we wanted to leave all this behind us.”

Nayeon looks down to her toes in defeat. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was just thinking, maybe I’d get sent out of class this time.” Her voice cracks, giving away her vulnerable state: she’s near tears but trying to fight everything back to look tough. Sadly for her, you think, none of it is working.

“Look, just try to lay low. It’s your last year before all of this starts to not matter anymore.” Your professor finally puts his glasses back on and looks Nayeon straight in the eye. “Trust me, you’re better off keeping your head down. You’ll be fine.”

She walks despondently off to the right and out the door. Your feet choose to follow her, but a sudden jolt restores your common sense. “And you, Mister New Guy, what seems to be the problem? Beside your dismal score, that is.”

You have a slight feeling you are not getting a higher score.

~-~-~

After talking it out fruitlessly with the professor, he releases you from his classroom and you make your way out. The conversation with him didn’t take long, and so you arrive to a few jeers and muffled laughter once you step outside.

“Serves her right. Trying all this bullshit isn’t gonna change anything.”

“Seriously, cheating on a test she obviously studied for? How dense could she be?”

“I bet she just wants to show us up. She’ll study and then cheat, then she gets perfect marks on the test and she’ll show us she’s untouchable again.”

You find it hard to believe that Nayeon would resort to something as convoluted and pointless as that, but then again, you really don’t know her to make a judgment. Whatever she was thinking, you agree that it was idiotic to pull that sort of thing, even if you didn’t see any of it.

The weather on campus is the right mix of cloudy and sunny, with rays of light shining respectfully on the grass and pavement of your college courtyard. Something tells you that people-watching by the gym feels like the perfect lunchtime activity for a day like this, so you find your way to the properly noisy setting and look for a spot out of the way.

You settle on a spot by the side of the gym with the perfect amount of shade and wind, but you’re instead drawn further back to the rear by strange and irregular noises. Turning the last corner, you’re met with a surprising figure.

It was Nayeon, sitting with her back against one of the walls, her entire body curled up like a ball. You slowly inch closer and closer to her, and you realize the strange noises that you heard before were instead sniffles and cries coming from the lonely girl. Finally as you get close enough, Nayeon feels your presence and raises her head.

Her eyes were full of tears, who knows for how long she had been crying, and you could feel the sadness coming from her eyes; they were trying to tell you something, however, it's hard to figure out what. Her expression of sadness didn't stay for long though as soon enough her expression turns angry when you get closer to her, squatting down to look at the girl from a closer angle.

“Please, go away. Leave me alone.” The small girl pushes you away, but with her hand preoccupied wiping away her tears, she can’t do much to get rid of you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You have the nerve to do what you did last year and still show your face?” The anger in your voice catches you off guard. Since when did you take it personally when it came to her?

“Oh fuck off, new guy,” she taunts. “So I’m fucking hiding here, what more do you want?” She tries to act tough again, but it’s painfully apparent to both of you that it isn’t working. At this point, you really do just want to leave her alone. And just like every other time, nothing’s stopping you. So why are you staying?

You breathe a sigh of defeat at the situation you find yourself in. “Look, I don’t have any sort of beef with you personally, but come on. This is pathetic. You’re only embarrassing yourself by doing all this bullshit that isn’t like you at all.”

“And what if it’s not like me?!” Her shout sends a few birds hiding in nearby bushes to take off. This sort of language takes you aback from her; Little Miss Perfect Kwon Nayeon, top honour student, teacher’s favourite pet, hating herself?

“I… I don’t like being me, and I don’t like what I am.” She wipes her tears again and tries (and fails) to look you in the eyes once more. “So if you’re another member of the ‘I hate Nayeon’ club, well… Better show the club president some respect.”

She sits back down with her back against the wall. Nayeon's eyes are wet for the last time before she wipes them off and faces her lack of tears.

Normally in situations like those you would just walk away and ignore people like those for the rest of the school year, but for some reason with Nayeon in front of you, showing herself being weak, fragile, and sad, something about her makes it so you can't leave the situation alone. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you have to know why.

“No,” you turn back to her as a determined expression is painted on your face.

“What?”

“I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me.” You stand your ground, arms crossed, and Nayeon can't seem to be any more pissed than before. “What is going on? What do you mean you don't like yourself?” you ask.

For a while, no one dares to speak another word, and you wonder if what you have here is an argument. For a good few seconds, she stares at you intently as silence hangs heavy in the air.

“You think,” she says defeatedly between sniffles, “that I'm Little Miss Perfect, right? Like everyone calls me ‘the straight-A girl?’ Well I’m not, and I’m tired of everyone saying so.” She fishes out a very used handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her eyes of tears, only for them to be replaced by more.

“It can’t be that bad, Nayeon. People look up to you, I’m sure.” You finally notice your alarms are blaring and you’re put on high alert. What you just said was the exact wrong thing to say, and you’re at critical risk of involving yourself in her messy situation more than you should.

She side-eyes you, calculating if you’re being sincere or not. She stuffs her handkerchief back into her pocket carelessly as if knowing that she’ll only pull it back out again soon. She looks down at her hands, deep in thought, looking like she’s trying to grapple with something she might regret.

Once she’s done, she fumbles around in her backpack. She fishes out a tiny black notebook she seems to keep so well hidden, on the cover of the notebook the words ‘Nana’s Bucket List’ are scrawled in big, bold, immature-looking letters.

“Throughout all of my life, I always wanted to be the top student, the best of the best like no one ever was, and I succeeded, you know…” she scoffs. “Top marks in Elementary, Middle school, and Valedictorian in high school.” She sighs and tries to fight back more tears, though you notice she’s a bit more successful this time, with a bit of hope and yearning in her eyes.

"But on the other side… The other side seems so great. I mean, I see all these movies and books about college life," she says in between residual sobs and hiccups. She opens the notebook, showing you a not-so-long list, and even though it's hard to see the text from the small size of the writing, you can make out a little bit of what’s written on the paper.

Cheat on a test

Get drunk

Party all night

Dye my hair

Sing in an Open stage show

Sneak into a Public pool

Shoplifting

You know...

Most of what you read makes zero sense, and you’re half-convinced this girl is just crazy. You stare at the scribbled letters, hoping to draw more meaning from them, but Nayeon shuts the little notebook in your face and starts putting it back away.

"I want to do them all. Drinking, breaking glass bottles, partying, all that stuff," she explains dreamily. She zips up her bag and pats it down, making sure it’s secure beside her, and turns her attention back to you, “I want to live like a normal girl, you know what I mean?” she asks, you are not sure if its because of the tears, but her eyes seem to glitter.

"That's very cliche, Nana," you jab at her, making fun of the nickname she gave herself.

"That's all I know, though. Please." She takes your hand in between hers and looks up at you, teary-eyed and seemingly begging for her life.”This wouldn’t kill you, all I’m asking for is some help crossing stuff off of the list.”

You hate how well it works on you: her big, round eyes, her adorable little pout, her cute pleading voice. It goes against everything you know, and even now you’re sure you don’t want to get involved in whatever this would turn out to be. And yet, despite even the most deeply ingrained lessons you’ve learned for yourself, all it takes is a brief moment for it to come crashing down.

With a disbelieving sigh and a sense of regret creeping in, you ask: “What’s in it for me?”

~-~-~-~

You take a bite of your burger and breathe out. Cheap bun, dubious patty, artificial cheese, it all takes you back to a past life. You're left to momentarily wonder how you ended up where you are now, and slowly it comes back to you. You messed up.

"So, about the list." Nayeon sets down her cup, ice cubes clinking against each other as they swirl around her soda. "I already did one. So that’s one less thing for us to do”.

"I can do that much math, Nayeon. What do you take me for?" You chomp down on a few fries grumpily.

"I didn't mean it like that. All I'm saying is there are just a few more months left until graduation, so we'll need to be quick. We can’t be lazy about this." She pulls out the little black notebook and flips to an unfamiliar page. The words "cheat on a test" has doodles of a devil's horns and wings and tail around it, with lots of eyes and ears decorating the rest of the ruled paper. Above it, the poster you recognize from the movie "Bad Genius" is copied, albeit crudely, in a thought bubble.

"I did this one last year, don't ask. Anyway, this next one should be easy enough." She flips to the next page, showing a couple pictures of beer cups and wine bottles, surrounding the words “Get Drunk.”

“Wait, is this the ‘incident’ people hate you for? What even happened there?” You eat more of your fries, trying to hide your curiosity. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work and she nips the conversation in the bud.

“That’s not anything you need to know. What matters is now and the future. Now are you with me or not?” She snaps the notebook closed and yanks it away from your sight, back into the pocket she keeps it in.

“I can’t help if I don’t know what exactly your deal is,” you say disappointedly. You pick up your own drink and take a sip, and the cool soda washes over your tongue and throat on the way down. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be with everything that’s going on.”

For a moment, you catch Nayeon’s gaze on you, dumbfounded. You could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she tries to process your logic, but it takes a while. As she thinks, though, you take a particular interest in how she handles it: her mouth is hanging slightly ajar and her eyes are only half-focused on wherever they’re pointed. You notice how delicately her bangs fall on her forehead, how her eyebrows furrow and crease, how she tries finding the right words yet can’t find the message she wants to send. Odd things to notice, surely, and yet here you are. You messed up.

It starts coming back to you. The jeers from your classmates as you walk down the hall grow louder in your ears, and you fight against your hands trying to cover them with the knowledge that none of it is real anymore. The tears you fight back all the time surface for another rematch, but with your current state, you may be at a disadvantage.

Fortunately, she shocks you back into reality. “Hey, are you listening? I’m feeding you, so the least you could do is pay attention.” She bites a small chunk of her burger and chews, and you notice how her cheeks puff slightly and the corner of her mouth is decorated with a dollop of mustard.

Cute.

1 + 2. Get drunk + Party All Night

“God, this is stupid,” you think to yourself, exiting the convenience store. With a plastic bag in your right hand and your phone in your left hand, checking the time and the address Nayeon sent you earlier today. Finding it was easier than you expected, and you tried not to let the walk to her dorm set any expectations for you.

You bring your knuckles to the wooden door and make three quick raps. It swings open very quickly and you’re dragged into the cozy space without even the slightest chance to take off your shoes.

“You took forever! Did you bring the stuff?” She looks all over you and pats you down, looking for what you brought her.

“Get off, will you? I put them all in my bag like a normal person.” You swing your backpack off your shoulder and carefully place it onto a nearby table. Nayeon takes a seat and waits excitedly for what you brought for the two of you. From your bag, you produce three bottles of soju, three five-packs of Yakult, six cans of beer, and four bags of chips. She eyes each item with absolute interest as they leave your backpack, and she hardly contains herself once you finish and zip up your bag once more.

“Okay, so how does this work?” Her eyes sparkle with wonder, and while waiting for your instructions, it was clear that as much as she was excited, she was also inexperienced.

“First off, get us some shot glasses and a pitcher. Oh, and a can opener.” Nayeon bolts off to the cooking area, and you can hear drawers opening and shutting loudly. You start getting concerned when you hear plates start to clatter against each other, but thankfully it dies down quickly and she returns with two small glasses, a decently sized pitcher, and a can opener.

“Shit. I meant bottle. Bottle opener.” Without even a hint of annoyance, she rushes back off into the kitchen and, after a few more rummaging sounds, she returns with the correct item. She really must not know what she’s doing.

“Come on, show me!” She shoves the bottle opener into your hand, and you’re left with no choice.

“Don’t you have a roommate we have to worry about?” You pop the cap off one of the soju bottles and then tear the aluminum top off two bottles of Yakult. “She’s out with her own friends. Hurry!” Despite her starting to get on your nerves, you pour all three into the pitcher and swirl them around together. Once you’re done, you pour the mixture into each of the glasses until they’re full.

“Bottoms up, Nayeon.”

“Bottoms up!”

The both of you down your drinks: yours slowly crawls down your throat, but hers disappears straight into her stomach. She reels at the burning lines left by the alcohol all over her esophagus and takes a bit of time to recover.

“Whoa, that was,” she says, and a burp erupts from her mouth, “intense.” She sways a little bit to the left before righting herself, and then overcompensates to lean to the left again.

“Easy there, champ. We’ve got two more bottles to go through.” You pour another shot for each of you, hers first and then yours, and raise your glass once more.

“Open the chips now,” you tell her. “This’ll be less dreadful with food.”

Both of you down your shots at the same time, and Nayeon reels at the sensation once more.

“Does that get easier?” Her speech is slowly starting to slur, the poor thing. “I’m kinda feeling a little something right now, too…”

“Yes, but only if you keep going at it, idiot. Don’t down everything so quickly.” Grab one of the bags of chips yourself, open and present it to Nayeon on the center of the table.

“Eat. You’ll hate this less.” You take a handful of chips and bring all of them into your mouth. Once you do, you raise your eyebrow at her to tell her to do the same.

“Isn’t… *hic* being hungry the thing for… faster drunk?”

“Apparently so, Nayeon. I don’t even know what I expected from you.” You take another shot, alone this time. She tries to pour her own shot, but fails miserably at getting the liquid anywhere near the inside of her shot glass. It’s adorable how she tries, though.

You pour her another shot despite a small voice telling you maybe she isn’t cut out for this much in such a short time. You shove the voice aside in favor of Nayeon’s own words: “We pregame, drink a little, and then we go. Party starts at 7:30, so we leave here by 7 o’clock.” Her shot glass fills with the drink, and you place it in front of her, making sure at least to keep an eye out for what might happen next.

She successfully picks up the glass and, sans the spills she made on the glass's way from the table to her mouth, drinks everything she could. She slams the glass onto the table in no light movement and you have a slight inkling of regret at letting her do that to herself.

“You… We have to… Fuck.” Nayeon’s head droops and she catches her face with her hands. She may have underestimated how strong soju is, or maybe what being drunk actually does to a person. A groan emanates from behind her palms, and you notice she’s having trouble holding herself up.

“Aren’t we going out after this? You might wanna slow down, idiot.” You pour yourself another shot and drink it leisurely. Nayeon tries leaning back onto the chair, and she finally pries her hands away from her eyes. She does a few quick blinks, and she tries to focus her sight on you. Her head sways a little bit, and it dawns on you that you may have overestimated her.

“I’m okay… just… we have to go.” She tries to stand up, but she wobbles dangerously and you have to catch her. Dive under her and take on her weight, thankfully not too heavy, and keep her from hitting the floor. She mumbles a bit about something you can only kind of understand, but it's enough to guide your next decision.

“Forget it,” you grunt as you plop her back into her chair, “we're not going anywhere.” An exasperated sigh leaves your lungs, and you head off to the kitchen to return with a large bottle of cold water.

“No… we have to go. We'll be late.” Nayeon tries to get up again, but there's no strength left in her body. She sits motionlessly, probably thinking that she's already stood up, and it gives way to a confused look on her face as to why she's still in the same place.

You fill a proper-sized glass with water and hand it to her, which she drinks obediently. You fill her palm with potato chips which she also eats without objection. The way her jaw moves, clumsy and slow, signals a threat that she might just fall over any minute.

You move your chair to her side and sit there, allowing Nayeon to lean her head on you. Her hair covers her reddening face, and her hiccups arrive in growing force.

“If you're still in there, Nayeon,” you say quietly, “we're not going out. I can't look after you this closely at a party.” All she does to respond is nod. Her hiccups are punctuated intermittently with sniffles, which you take as a sign that she knows she has no power left to object.

Still, you feel bad for her as her plans fall through. Despite the responsible thing to do, put her to bed and leave, you kick yourself mentally before deciding to stay anyway.

“Movies and snacks?”

~-~-~-~

Before you know it, the night goes by just as quick. You go through the list of movies she’d always wanted to watch: The Truman Show, The Great Gatsby, Mean Girls, and even then there’s still a few left on her list. You could tell she was watching properly halfway through the first, and that was the telltale sign that she’d sobered up.

You drink a bit more with her in between movies, and she would frequently pause to get up and put on a song to dance to. “It keeps me awake,” she said, “I can’t fall asleep before the good part happens.” The songs she put on are generic pop and the kinds you skip whenever they come up, but you let it pass for tonight.

At some point, she pulls out an old Wii and challenges you to Mario Kart. “I am undefeated in this game. I’m not even that good, everyone else that challenged me just sucked.” You take her up on her offer, and the match begins. You try and almost get ahead of her in a few of the turns, but she would always take back her lead at the slightest opportunity of you hitting a wall or missing an item. And the way she glows with pride every single time she crosses the finish line before you do, the sudden brightness that fills her face when she wins race after race, the confidence it gives her that she isn’t actually the worst person in the world, all of it is a sight to behold. People may see Kwon Nayeon as an arrogant goody-two-shoes traitor, but the way you see her now is different: just someone with a past to outgrow.

Right as the last movie’s credits start rolling, mischievous thin rays of dawn sunlight slip past the tiny gaps in the curtains. Both you and Nayeon have little energy left for anything else, and you maybe think it’s time to call it a night and go home.

“Let me walk you out,” she says while trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes for a little bit longer. You both get up and walk to the door, and as it opens your faces are flooded with a world right before it wakes. Dewdrops sit respectfully on leaves and blades of grass, birds are only starting to stretch their wings, and the crisp morning air fills your lungs with a calm grace.

You turn back to Nayeon, who you find is still admiring the dawn, and grasp her elbow. “Sit with me.”

You both squat down and take your seats again on her doorstep. Clouds roll in and dot the sky, wandering on the blank canvas of today, eagerly waiting for sunlight to block out. The sun peeks over the horizon and the first proper rays start to arrive, spreading warmth where they land. Nayeon meets your eyes one last time, and the pair of you find a sleepy and still a bit drunk person when you look at each other.

“Well,” you say as if it was a farewell, “good night, Nayeon. And good morning.”

“Good night,” she giggles back, “and good morning to you too.”

3. Sneak into a Public Pool

“Are you sure about this?” Nana’s tone is subdued by fear. Her voice shakes and struggles to be as quiet as possible, but at the same time you get the feeling that if you didn’t need to be quiet, she’d be yelling right now and trying to get the both of you to leave.

“Can you please shut up? I’m trying to focus!” You find the first of the pins and push it out of the way. For a moment, you lament how restricted you are: this could have been such a simple lock to break, replace even, but the girl dragging you around was deathly insistent on leaving as little damage and evidence as possible.

“You shut up! I'm whispering here!” Anger rises in her voice, and you almost feel anger in yours too. You're able to stop it though, and you remind yourself that if ever a guard was on watch that actually cared about this place, they'd be easily outrun.

The lock presents more of a challenge than you thought; despite the agonizingly simple solution of snapping its shackle, its inner mechanisms are harder to crack for whatever reason. Taking it pin by pin is supposed to be an easy task, but the warm and humid air and the incessant nagging seem to debilitate you. It’s such a nice night out for a swim, why make this any harder than it needs to be?

After what seemed like eternity you finally manage to pick the lock, sighing in relief as the both of you head forward quietly, but cautiously looking side to side just in case. The metal-grate door swings open slowly, avoiding any creaking sounds it may make otherwise, and the both of you enter the pool area.

“I gotta say Nayeon, this went better than I thought it would,” you say, both of you looking at the rectangular box of water which unlike during the day, was completely still, no waves, no splashes, just the water. It glistened and reflected all manner of light: the pool lights above and below the water, the yellow street lamps far off on the sidewalk, and the moon overhead, singing tones of wonder and mystery to those touched by its borrowed glow.

Off to the side, you find Nayeon fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her head whips round incessantly as she tries to keep a lookout of the surroundings rather poorly. Sigh a deep one, and finally go over and take your seat next to her.

“Thanks… gimme a sec.” She finally grabs the hem decisively. The fabric crumples a bit under her grip and folds as it's pulled up.

You can’t help but watch as the shirt starts to leave her body, revealing a slim and toned tummy underneath. Your breath hitches as it crawls higher, reaching her face and obscuring her sight, and she inadvertently shows off a dark purple sports bra that’s… a size too small. Your gaze lingers on her cleavage and the flesh of her boobs lightly spilling out of the garment.

Nana turns around and you’re treated with the view of a beautiful back and shoulders to die for. The way her body twists and turns in the slightest ways to negotiate the shirt off of her form is the most sensual dance you’ve ever seen.

And you realize you’re staring. Fortunately for you, she doesn’t seem to notice, and she continues on to fold the shirt properly before setting it next to her sports bag. You opt not to risk staring any longer, and you decide to get rid of your own shirt. You strip quickly, and your shirt flies off approximately near Nayeon’s things in a messy pile by itself.

Sit on the edge of the pool, dip your feet into the water. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be this warm, you think, but whatever the case may be, it feels like a tea that’s just about to go cold. This, coupled with the humid air and quiet atmosphere, makes for a perfect night to spend on whatever this is with her.

She joins you and takes her seat at the edge of the pool, and in every other situation, you’d ask her to back off a bit. Instead, as she lays her head on your shoulder and takes your hand in between hers, you lose your steel in the most important of times.

“I’m scared.” Her eyes never leave the water, taking in the light dancing on its surface. Her face is fraught with worry, and while you know it’s for no good reason, you nevertheless try to reassure her.

“Yeah, someone might jump out of the bushes and arrest us for swimming in a swimming pool,” you say mockingly. “They’re gonna take us to court on the charges of ‘using something the way it was meant to be used’ and we’re gonna get life sentences. When we’re all old and wrinkly they’re gonna sit us in the electric chair.”

“Okay, I get your point. But still, though, I’m scared.” She grips your hand tighter, and for some reason you can’t resist her. Place your other hand over hers and try to calm her down. Nana takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, and finally looks at you with a reserved grin.

“Alright, I’m good. Let’s go.”

You feel her hand on your back, and warmth spreads from her palm. Her smile grows just a bit wider and her eyes follow suit. Her teeth show themselves from between her lips, and you’re almost tempted to dive right in.

Lucky for you, she helps. The hand on her back suddenly applies more pressure, pushing you to the pool and causing a splash going all directions. Collect your thoughts and raise your head above the water to see Nana, face full of laughter, right before she dives in the water with you.

It takes a second, but her head resurfaces and you find yourself relieved. She catches her breath once more, and before you know it, you're met with a faceful of chlorinated water. “What are you staring at?” She says between hearty laughs.

Wipe the water from your face, find the humor. Laugh with her, and face her properly.

Another shade of Kwon Nayeon. Granted, it's one with no makeup and way less clothes than usual, but none of that takes away from her natural, elegant beauty. It's captivating, the way her figure glides around the water, the way the cool night air wisps around the pair of you, the way the moon throws its rays around the world, your world, so haphazardly.

Another faceful of water, and you snap out of your daze. “Creepy ass,” she snorts happily. She splashes you again, and this time you fight back.

“Race you around the pool.” You start paddling, and the water grows loud against your ears. She says something back to you and starts paddling herself to catch up.

“Yeah,” you think to yourself, “whatever this is with her.”

4. Sing in an Open Mic

“Another night, another goal,” you muse, sitting in your car with Nayeon in the passenger seat. It has become quite a routine that every time she wants to do something on her bucket list she asks you to pick her up. You don’t mind too much — she pays for gas after all.

“Where do we go this time?” Nayeon just shoves her phone in your face, showing a map with directions to some bar out of town. She looks at you expectantly, but without any more information than what you’re currently getting, you’re at a loss for what she’s trying to make you see.

“A club.”

“Exactly.”

“We already did ‘get drunk.’”

“I know. This is different.”

“How so?”

“Take me here. Make me sing. Take me home.”

The pieces connect in her head and she pulls out the notebook again. She flips to a page you again haven’t seen, and when she shows it to you you’re treated to the sight of “Open Mic Stage” in graffiti-style letters and the poster of “Wedding Singer” scrawled in the bottom right corner of the page.

“If you have the map, why not just do this yourself? You didn’t need to wait for me. If anything, I’d only laugh at how bad you might be.” You push away her phone and notebook, choosing to return your attention to the sidewalk instead. The boba tea place you keep hearing about is nearby.

“That’s the thing,” Nayeon interjects again, “I have been there before. I listened to all the people singing, and they’re… some are good. I don’t know if I am, but I got shy at the last minute and I never even got near the stage.” She grabs your sleeve and your attention. “I need you to make me sing. Don’t let me chicken out.”

You shrug, “Sure, let's do it.”

~-~-~-~

Taking up two seats at the bar, you try and seem to fail at helping Nayeon calm down. Her guitar rests against the bartop beside her while she fans herself hurriedly with her hand. “It’s so nerve-racking… I knew this was a mistake,” she adds before turning back and trying to leave the place, however, you stop her in her tracks

“Come on, you worked so hard for this,” you say, recalling the number of recordings she sent you: one for each take she was doing. “You can do this,” you continue reassuring her, knowing she’s more ready than ever. At the same time, you could see your friend get more nervous by the second, now taking more sips of her water bottle.

“But what if I miss a chord, or I sing badly? Everyone will laugh at my mist–'' You know at this point she’ll only spiral to worse and worse thoughts, so you nip it in the bud and stop her right there. You take both her shoulders in your hands, making Nayeon stop her nervous rambling, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink.

“I believe in you, Nana. just take a deep breath.” You stop to let her do as you say, taking a deep breath in and slowly breathing it out. The tension leaves her with each breath she takes, and you find a moment to keep her stable. “Good, I am sitting right here, not leaving for any reason, so if you feel nervous, just find me. Look at me.” Her gaze softens at your promise, and her lips form a tiny smile in response to your words.

Hearing the current open mic singer finishing up his song, you send her off with some final words. “Your turn now, Nana. Break a fucking leg.” You leave her shoulders as her smile slowly starts to grow.

You watch her heading toward the stage, taking her guitar out of the cover, and taking her seat on the chair in front of the mic. “Hey,” she starts, “I am Nayeon… and I’m gonna sing Spring Day by BTS… I, uhh, hope you enjoy.”

She takes one last deep breath as you find her gaze on you. You return a reassuring smile, and Nayeon’s eyes fly back to her guitar. She strums her first chord, and the crowd’s welcoming applause rises.

youtube

“I’m missing you, when I say that I miss you more, I’m missing you…” Nayeon’s fingers strum the strings delicately, and it enchants you how graceful and in control she is of her instrument. The wood and metal of her guitar work together under her guidance to produce a beautiful sound, one you feel deep inside you'd never have heard the beauty of if not here, not now.

The way her lips move to articulate her words is heavenly, like she has you under a benevolent spell to bring you a rare sort of peace. It captivates you how she carries herself; behind her tough outer shell is a scared and confused layer, which hides a soft and optimistic core and wants to chase a brighter, happier future by cherishing the present. You marvel at your luck, that you were permitted to see so much of her, and how openly she welcomed you in when all she knew was aloneness and to shut people out.

“Snowflakes falling from the sky, are drifting further by and by…” Her heavenly voice draws you in, and it commands your attention like it speaks directly to your soul. The sound of Nayeon tugs on your heartstrings, pulling you closer to its source, and you let yourself get whisked away.

And to its source you look; find a girl with courage like you’d never seen. See Kwon Nayeon in a different light than the harsh monotones of the classroom fluorescents, but in a spotlight that she takes up with everything in her soul. It’s a different shade of her: a shade of Nayeon that only you could comprehend, a part of her that only you had the privilege to understand.

“I breathe you out there somewhere, like smoke in the air…” The space grows warmer, like a hearth welcoming you home. Your surroundings quiet down as Nayeon pulls them deeper and deeper with her subconscious command: rest, lay down your worries and fly for the moment towards your peace. You look around, and every fellow face in the crowd you see has their eyes fixed on Nayeon’s performance; they’d never know it, but it’s the debut of a person coming into a whole new life free of regret and cowardice. It’s Nayeon building herself up from the rubble of a past that she aims to forget.

“Flowers blooming towards the sky, has winter finally passed by?” The noise of the world seems to die down, as if just you and Nayeon are the only two things in existence. The pace of her strumming slows, as do the lyrics that escape her mouth. Every note she produces is deliberate, gentle, comforting, and for once you feel like you’re able to imagine a brighter tomorrow like her.

With her.

The song draws to a close, and she looks all over the crowd as they start to clap. You can't help but join in. Nayeon just bows lightly, and you can feel how happy she is that everything went well in her song. As she steps off the stage, you leave your spot and head toward her.

With both of you only a couple of steps apart, you chuckle lightly, “Well it wasn't so bad was—” You were stopped, caught off guard by your friend, dashing to you with open arms and crashing into your chest, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into an embrace.

No words are spoken; both of you just stand there, hugging each other, her face nuzzling your chest as you could faintly feel her heartbeat. You were quite surprised with Nayeon being so open with you, since it was just a short time ago you made your promise to help.

“Thank you…” she says, now releasing you from her embrace, noticing how her eyes shed small tears, that you couldn't figure out if they are tears of sadness, or happiness.

“... Always here for you Nayeon.”

“Please… call me Nana,” she says. She takes her notebook and crosses off another line from her bucket list, and as she walks toward the exit, you make way for the people coming by to greet her for the performance.

You can't help but wonder… has something changed after that performance?

5. Shoplifting

“Pick something already, it's not that hard,'' you remark impatiently while tapping your feet. Both of you are staring at the snack section of the local convenience store near your college, and Nana hovers her hand over the selection of snacks to look for the perfect one.

“Stop rushing me, I'm trying to choose which one will not get me caught,” she replies, still focused. The veteran petty thief in you groans, recalling your highschool days where nicking a cigarette or two (or ten) every once in a while gave you back huge chunks of your monthly budget. You miss the simplicity of it, and you once again find the restriction of being so careful more annoying than anything else. How come for Nayeon it is such a big struggle to steal one snack? You shoot the question up to whichever god might be listening, and you even half-expect an answer back.

“You are thinking about it too much, the cashier is probably not gonna notice even if you stole something that made noise,” you add, tapping your foot rapidly, like you were some parent spending too long in the toy section.

“Well, please forgive me, oh thug master, it’s my fault that I never did that shit before!” Her whispers are loud enough for you to hear clearly, your less-than-welcoming attitude leading her to take a deep sigh.

“Fine, if you want to make it easier, do the buy one steal one method,” you explain.

“The what?”

“Well to make it simpler than it already is, you dolt, you take two things, one you buy normally, and the other one you don't pay for,” you added as it seems to all make sense in Nayeon’s head. “Defeats the fucking purpose why we’re here, but really, the longer we spend here to leave with just four things, the more anyone will suspect us.”

Despite your best efforts to hurry her, they all seem to only make her take even longer. Her brow furrows deeper, as if trying to form lasers in her eyes to burn holes through the plastic wrappers.

Your patience wears thinner by the moment, and you resolve to isolate before you lose it completely. “So if you’ll excuse me, I will get my shit and meet you outside,” you say, leaving her alone in the aisle.

As a promise to yourself not to shoplift anymore, you decide to buy just one pack of cigarettes. You light one of them as you lean against one of the store’s walls, watching the sun start to set. Find yourself sitting down, admiring the beauty of a day near its end, taking in the world around you.

Two cigarettes and fifteen minutes later, a small ding sounds from somewhere in the front of the store. It’s Nayeon, half-running out of the building, her face painted with worry as she finds and walks towards you.

“So, you did it?” A smile forms on Nayeon’s face as she takes her right hand to her jean’s pocket, revealing a small candy bar. She brandishes the candy around like a magic wand, as if trying to charm you into being proud of her.

“Well… it's something,” you nod, while the two of you start towards her dormitory.

“Oh don’t say ‘it’s something’ when you didn't steal anything,” she exclaims. She holds the candy bar up against the setting sun, examining its entire wrapper. Now that you’re a considerable distance from the store, the worry on her face has been replaced completely by pride and excitement.

“Well I don’t shoplift anymore, the only reason I'm letting you do it is because you wanted the experience, which by the way,” you scoff, plucking the snack out of her hands, “all of that was for a chocolate bar.” This earns you a pretty strong punch on the shoulder, and the force loosens your grip on the snack enough for Nayeon to steal it back.

“Shut up,” she says, her cheeks seeming to grow a small shade of pink. She walks faster, leaving you no choice but to speed up as well.

6. Dye my Hair

“Do you think blonde hair will suit me?” Nana asks, holding the color card next to her face. You come in for a closer look, but as you stare you stop and wonder why you even did so in the first place.

“Yeah… uhh yeah, I think it can suit you well.” You weren't an expert in hair styles and colors, so honestly unless it was a color that was actually hideous, everything was fair game.

Nana smiles at your response and picks out a box of blonde hair dye to add to her basket. You’re a bit nervous that she wants to dye it at home with you, but any attempts you made to convince her to see an actual stylist have been dismissed. “It’s easy,” she said, “there’s instructions on the box.”

“So, how was it?” You’re half-convinced that the bleach is eating through your rubber gloves, but you soldier on.

“Was what?” Nayeon checks herself out in the mini-vanity mirror in front of her. You have to swat her hands away from her head with your elbows, but apart from that she stays on her best behavior.

“You know,” you shrug, “this whole thing. The stealing, the swimming, the dyeing your hair.” You try to keep the bleach from dripping onto your arms, mostly aiming for the scattered sheets of newspaper the two of you prepared on the floor, but there’s only so much you can do. You just resolve to wash off any drops as quickly as possible.

You get the feeling that she hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you did. The smile on her face dimmed the slightest it could before she could fix it. “It was… great! Stuff I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for sure.”

Like some form of cosmic karma, she spots your involuntary grin in the mirror. “Good. That’s good.”

The color drains from her hair bit by bit as you apply the bleach carefully. You’re not sure how quickly you have to finish, but Nana seems not to mind. You gently stroke and rub the product through her hair, taking special care not to come into contact with her scalp too often, all the while she turns her head from side to side to admire the look she’s going to have soon.

“You know…” she says suddenly, avoiding your eyes in the mirror, “this was really fun. I’m so happy I got to do all that stuff on my list.” Her smile changes: what was once a cheerful and optimistic smile just a few moments ago is now a wizened and melancholic one. “I mean it. Thank you for helping me.”

She makes eye contact with you again in the mirror, and she flashes that smile to you once more. Her hair grows lighter with each passing second, and as her back relaxes and straightens, it seems that the weight of the world leaves her shoulders as well. She breathes more easily now, and despite the fumes the box says you should do your best not to inhale, you breathe easier too.

~-~-~-~

You’re sat back again on her sofa, and Nana tries her best not to mess with her hair that’s still soaking. She looks kind of silly, what with her old towel around her shoulders faded to near oblivion, her hair in sections making her look like a half-done scarecrow, her hands going up halfway to her head only to be forced back down by the other.

And yet, you admire another shade of Nayeon. This time, it’s a girl who’s scared of the future, of changes she might regret later on. It’s something deep in her character, even central maybe, to be afraid of things she can’t take back. Even then, she takes her leaps and bounds to try and outrun her past, and finally, you see the razor edge that keeps everything in balance: Nayeon’s fear which dictates her present, and Nana’s strength which leads her to her future.

“Hey,” you say abruptly, surprising even yourself, “you good?”

“I think so. My head’s itchy. Is that supposed to happen? Should we wash it off?”

“No, jackass, it’ll look even worse if you quit halfway.”

Your words set in and she realizes you’re right. Worry seeps into her face and you notice tears start to well up in her eyes.

“Look, this might not be comfy right now, but I promise it’ll be worth it later on.”

“Really? You promise it’ll look good?” She looks over to you with pleading, shiny eyes, and it almost hurts to tell her no.

“I said I promise it’ll be worth it. Not that it’ll look good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

You chuckle at the sudden rise in her voice. After all this time, she’s still Nayeon, still Nana. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It means… if you stick with it, there’s no way you’ll regret what we just did.”

7. You know…

The end of your senior year of college rolls around, and the graduation ceremony is still fresh in everyone’s minds. Photos of friends together and square caps thrown into the air decorate your social media feeds for a good few days, and you can’t deny the whole thing was something you wouldn’t forget for the rest of your life.

And finally, Nana’s bucket list has been finished. To think that all of it was done in the span of a college year is quite impressive to say the least, as before you started she was lost in her own goals and left sitting for a good three years. Now, looking at your diploma, it was not only a sign of your successful studies at college, for you it was also the sign of helping your dear friend get to where she wanted to be.

Speaking of the devil, now sending you a message

On the way, you see various people from her dorm building heaving away bags and suitcases, undoubtedly taking advantage of the nice weather to move out. You see people hugging each other, taking selfies, exchanging numbers, and all the while you think of each of them with their own stories to tell when they get home, but none so interesting as the one you and Nana built together.

The walk up the stairs was more of the same, people saying goodbye, and you can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. It was by no means a short year, but for everything you did, the feeling of wanting just a bit more time never seems to leave you. You recall the first time you saw her, that quiet girl in the front of the auditorium with four seats of clearance around her, and how you slowly watched her grow into the fine and confident woman she is now. Part of you is unbelievably proud of what she’s achieved, but another part of you knows it’s all her doing and you were only along for the ride.

You reach Nana’s room just as her roommate was leaving, and you exchange pleasantries with her before she goes off. “Hey, just so you know, Nayeon’s a really nice girl,” she says in whispers to you, “I’m glad she found you before she left.” She pats you on the back before going off to the stairs herself. Something deep inside you glows in agreement, and you think to yourself how lucky you were to be able to meet and spend time with a person like her.

“Hey, come in!” Nana pushes you into her now half-empty room. “Yuri just left, so we have the place all to ourselves!” You take a seat on her easy chair while she plops herself down onto her bed. The half that still has stuff in it is simple and unassuming, and the realization dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve been in Nana’s room. Despite this, the space is warm and cozy, like it was filled with a good sort of energy for a long time.

“Cheers” you both say at the same time, each with a can of beer that you both drink fairly quickly. You recall the first time of her drinking with you, how easily she felt her stomach hurting but this time she quickly shrugs off the bitter taste.

“You know,” Nana says, her eyes shining and her smile flashing itself directly at you, “I am really happy that you helped me with the bucket list, I couldn't do it without you.”

You simply laugh casually and say “Come on Nana, all you needed was confidence.”

“And who do you think gave me that confidence? I really mean it…thank you,” she says, and you can't help but smile at her back.

“Let me get some snacks, okay? Don’t move a muscle.” As she stands and heads toward the kitchen, you go to check up your phone to see what the time is. However, just as you are about to go into your Instagram, you notice something on the table: a little black notebook that’s only all too familiar.

When you think about it, She has never shown you the actual list besides that one time when you two first talked. “A peek won't hurt right?” you say, the alcohol definitely makes the choice for you. Your sober self would never invade someone's privacy, especially not some as close as Nana’s, but regardless, you open it and…

You flip through the pages, and the notebook reveals so much more. The few pages you’ve been shown were just decorated pages, and each mission was a chapter, filled with dozens of writings, pictures, scribbles, each for its own topic. You find yourself smiling, muttering quietly to yourself: “You really worked hard on it… didn't you?”

Your attention is snatched to Nana across the room, looking at you with cheeks fully red. You can't help but curse quietly, and you try to come up with something of an apology. However before you can finish your first word she says…

“Hey, come on, put that down!” Nana rushes toward you, nearly tossing the snacks off to some random part of the room, and snatches away the little black notebook from your hands. She hugs it close to her chest as she turns away, and she looks over her shoulder to peek if you might still be thinking about snatching the notebook back.

Instead, you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Sorry. But what's there to hide? Aren't we done?” You take another sip of your drink before picking up one of the snacks. You open the bag of chips and place it on the table for the both of you.

“Well… I had one other thing. I gave up on it a long time ago, just never ripped out the page.” Nana turns back toward you and fiddles with a leaf of the notebook. Her steps are careful when she gets nearer to you, as if cautious to scare you away.

“What?!” You bolt to your feet in surprise, your drunkenness taking a backseat at the sudden exposition. “Shit, we gotta go now! What is it?”

“Calm down,” Nana mutters, her feet rubbing against the carpet, “it isn't something we can do anywhere else anyway. Or, I mean, it’s done? I don’t know…”

Your nerves are still flaring, but you get the feeling that whatever it is, there's nowhere else but where you are now that Nana could do the last bucket list thing. Your gaze steadies on her, and she looks like she wouldn't budge for the world. Her eyes never leave the floor, her hands stay guarded on the notebook, and for some reason, she's also able to keep you just where you are.

“So… what is it, then?”

“Promise me you won't get mad?”

“... Promise.”

Once she hears you say it, her eyes shut tight. As if gathering courage, she takes a deep breath before taking deliberate steps to where you're standing. You never see it coming, but the next thing you know, Nana's soft lips are on yours, her delicate fingers keep you steady in place, and her vanilla scent fills your nose and overwhelms your senses that you can't think of anything at all but her.

It takes only half a second, but you melt into the kiss yourself. Your eyes flutter closed and start to forget the world around you in favor of the girl who stayed by your side. The space between the two of you grows smaller, your hands make their way to her waist, and you let your selfishness take over and keep her for yourself as well.

The kiss breaks just as you hold her, and both your eyes shoot open to find hers just as wide as yours.

“I-I, umm… I’m sorry, it was too sudden, and uhh…” It wasn't too hard to see how much she was stuttering, and if you weren't so surprised yourself you would've also joined her like the blushing mess she is right now.

The alcohol was starting to hit you again, and your better judgment slowly left you as you took her lips once more. You have no time to be surprised at how willing she is, and you resolve to just enjoy the kiss with her. You lead her to the edge of the bed and sit her down; and the first chance she gets, she lies back onto the mattress and pulls you with her.

“If you really wanna know…” She flips to the last page of the notebook and shows you. It’s a simple picture, just two stick figures in a heart, holding hands. You don’t recognize the poster, but the quote is unmistakable: “You should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how.”

“I’m glad we got to spend all this time together, and I know I keep thanking you, but I really am so happy…” Nana pulls you back in, and with your own sweet defiance, you trace kisses across her cheek and onto her neck. The whimpers that escape her are adorable, but at the same time they also confirm thoughts you’ve only ever tried to suppress: she likes you too.

You go lower and lower, tracing kisses from her neck to nibbling her collarbone, and you settle right before you reach her chest. Her breath hitches when she figures out what you want to do, but ultimately her fingers rake comfortingly through your hair.

“So tonight… let me show you… let me thank you… properly.” Her eyes may look pure when she says those words, but with how you are inches away from her lips, with how you have been kissing her now, it's anything but.

She slowly pulls off her jacket, her eyes never leaving you. The fabric slides off of her arms, revealing the smooth skin of her slender arms. The next to go is her tank top; her fingers grip the hem lightly, tugging slowly upwards, showing you her toned tummy and milky skin. The hem rises higher and higher, until she stops right under her chest.

“Are you sure?” Your question is breathless, not in the slightest bit annoyed, but your tone full of concern reaches her. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know,” she says, the sound of her voice betraying a dry throat, “I love you.” She pulls the rest of her top off, and her boobs bounce freely in front of you. Nana takes your hands and places them on each, and asks you playfully, “Come on, you think I never caught you staring?”

She pulls you back in for a kiss, a proper one this time, the kind that quenches your thirst for her. She tries her best to wrap her tongue around yours, all the while you take your fill of her soft tits. Pinch and tweak her nipples, feel them stiffen as her tiny whimpers grow into careless moans. You never let up, delivering constant pleasure to her chest, and your surprise when you feel her palming your growing bulge is quickly replaced with anticipation.

Her hand slips under your waistband and her moan fills your mouth when she feels how hot and hard your cock is for her. She wraps her fingers around your shaft and gives long, slow strokes, nothing that would make you cum on the spot, but just about enough to make you leak precum onto her palm. She relishes the feeling of your arousal on her skin, and as she picks up her pace, seemingly trying to entice you to do more, you’re left with no choice but to give her exactly what she wants.

You work on unzipping your jeans and taking them off, and with Nana’s help, it feels like the second easiest job in the world. They fall to your ankles and you kick them away, and all of a sudden your cock rests on the skin of her luscious thigh. The heat and the precum that leaks onto her flesh surprises her, but her senses come back to her and she asks for a time out.

“Gimme a sec, I have to breathe,” she gasps unsteadily. You get off her, wondering what you might have done wrong. Her breathing is ragged and she seems to not be able to focus on much else, but a reassuring look in her eyes lets you know she’s alright.

“I just– I needed to see it.” Her gaze falls on your cock, and once she reaches and wraps her fingers around your shaft again, it throbs in her hand. A groan of pleasure escapes you, and she figures out that she’s doing something right. Her pumps start slow, gradually building up speed, all the while she brings her face closer and closer, and you don’t even notice it, but finally her lips meet the tip of your dick. Nana rubs your precum all over her lips like lipstick, and she takes your head in her mouth.

Small groans come from your mouth feeling her soft lips, you enjoy much more than you thought, especially knowing how inexperienced you thought she was. Your hands meanwhile grab a part of hair, pulling it lightly, causing Nana to moan into your cock.

“Don't get mad if I do this wrong–” she says, her eyes fraught with worry. Despite this, she makes careful moves to give you the best possible experience. She seals her lips around your head, and she gives slow but deep sucks as she tries her hardest.

“You’re– nngh– doing great,” you moan, the pleasure overtaking you. The eye contact you two share is enchanting; she’s undoubtedly a very pretty girl, and despite the amateur blowjob, she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Her head bobs slightly, trying to take more of your length in, but her worry of choking keeps her from giving any more.

On the other hand, she has no idea of the effect she has on you, and the sight of the gorgeous woman’s plump lips on your cock coupled with her eager attempts at making you feel good nearly sends you over the edge early. In an effort to stave off your orgasm for even just a little while longer, you regrettably pull her off of you.

“What– what’s wrong? Wasn’t it good?” Again her words are coated with worry of disappointing you, but the way you look tenderly to her reassures her.

“You are perfect, Nana,” you whisper into her ear. You lay her back onto the bed gently, and you let show your eagerness to please her too. You venture down until you’re level with her crotch, and you work slowly to peel off her thin shorts. As they leave her legs, you’re presented with a pastel blue pair of panties, though you can’t help but notice the growing wet spot right in the center and the scent of her arousal seeping through. It must be uncomfy, you think, and you strip it off of her as well.

The garment leaves her and you look to Nana for approval: her finger between her teeth and her face red as a tomato, she looks at you with a loving gaze. Only then do you realize that Nana is now fully naked, everything bare for you and you alone, and the way her thighs rub together needily sends the message you’ve been dying to get.

Part her legs, meeting little resistance as you do. Travel up from her knees to her thighs, planting kisses and light nibbles on the soft flesh of her legs. Hearing how she whimpers beneath your lips: “That feels really good… I want more…”

Your lips finally meet her pussy, and the initial contact draws out a sultry moan from her. Each swipe of your tongue on her cunt causes more and more of her love juices to leak out, sending waves of ecstasy up her spine. She tries locking your head in place as she runs her fingers through your hair, all the while she grinds her crotch on your face as she chases her pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, you feel so good! I love you~!” Nana humps your face more and more roughly, and you take it as a sign that she’s close. Good thing as well, as you’re running out of air, but on the other hand you feel as though this wouldn't be the worst way to go. You run your tongue over her soaked pussy, taking slow, deep licks.

She’s inching closer to her orgasm, her hips are bucking onto your mouth, your tongue meets her clit, she squeezes your head between her thighs, your lips seal around her swollen nub, she grabs your hair and pulls hard, and with a scream ripping through her throat, Nana squirts her love juices straight into your waiting mouth as you drink her essence up. Her scream turns into a drawn-out moan as she continues to grind on your face, making sure to pleasure herself enough to give you everything you’ve been working so hard for, and you lap every single drop of it up like it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted.

She releases her grip on your hair and head, and as she relaxes onto the bed her arms fall to the sides and her legs spread open. She lazily brings a hand to her pussy and rubs it, showing you just how good you made her feel, and she smiles up at you.

“That was fucking amazing.” It couldn’t have sounded any sweeter, and the fact that it came from Nana, lying on her bed wearing nothing but a smile that you gave her, fills you with a sort of pride that you doubt you’d ever get again anywhere else in your life. But as she starts to get up, and she places her lips on yours, you feel another weight lifted off your chest. It’s another shade of her, one that shows you how she is when she’s content. It’s her way of telling you that among the hundreds of firsts she’s had in her life, she’s grateful that you were this one too. And as you kiss back, your hands finding their way to her hips, you connect with her again on a level that you never put into words before. “I love you too, Nana.”

Upon hearing, her kiss deepens and her tongue works harder to play with yours. She leans on you more, until finally you let yourself fall backwards, and Nana is right there, straddling you, with an innocent yet horny look in her eyes again.

“Your turn. Relax, okay?” She caresses your cheek, and suddenly you’re made conscious of how bad you’re probably blushing right now. Despite this, her smile never leaves her face as she continues to reassure you. She giggles at whatever expression it is that you’re showing her, and she gets to work.

Nana reaches to her bedside table and opens a drawer, and from it she produces a peculiar box. “Remember when I ‘stole’ that candy bar?” She tears off the sticker on the edge of the box to open it, pulls out a little plastic square pouch, and tears it open with her teeth. “I… bought… the candy bar. This was what I stole.” She tugs on the contents of the pouch, and reveals a condom.

“What the–” you start, but you soon stop in favor of moans caused by Nana’s handjob. “Don’t ever belittle me like that again, okay?” Her smile is again just as sweet and innocent as the first time you saw it, but now is completely different. It never leaves her face as she pulls the rubber over your cock, but not before giving it a few more cursory licks.

“Ready?” she asks, and you nod furiously. Finally, she aims the tip of your cock at her entrance and slowly sinks down onto you. “Oh, fuck, it’s so big,” she gasps. She takes her time taking in your length, feeling every vein against her pussy walls as you enter her tight pussy. She sucks air in through her teeth, her eyes shut tight, her fingernails leaving imprints on your chest as more and more of you slides into her unbelievably tight cunt. As she does, you feel her wet velvet walls rub your cock inside her, her slick spreading all over you and coating you with a warm you can’t describe. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she finally hilts, having taken everything inside her, and she sits on your crotch without moving, still trying to get used to the feeling of her pussy being so full.

“You good?” you ask, genuinely concerned if she’s okay or not. Place a hand on her waist, pat to comfort her. Her eyes open slowly, almost releasing a tear, and panic rises in your chest.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, do you need to get off? I–” you start, but she shuts you up with another kiss. It’s slow and gentle as it starts, just simple pecks, as she reassures you once again that she’s alright. Once she pulls away, she flashes you another smile, and you swear she gets more and more beautiful with each and every one.

“I’m okay. Are you okay?” She traces circles on your cheek and neck, and all you could do is nod. She comes back in for another kiss, and this time it’s much deeper. She opens her mouth to moan, and you jump at the opportunity to swipe at her tongue too. She loves it, and once she’s comfy enough, she starts to hump against you as well.

“It’s really really good. Do you feel good?” Her question snaps you out of your daze, but you only nod as you fight off cumming too early. Not long after that, you note she’s had her fill as she pulls away from you. Her posture straightens and she sits on you properly again, this time determined to return the favor and blow your mind. She takes in a deep breath, braces herself, and lifts herself up carefully. Your breath hitches, watching her naked figure on top of you, and you admire the way her sweat collects in drops before they slide down between her breasts. She notices you staring again, and she brings your hands up to her chest, moaning at the first moment of contact. Your instincts overtake you; you push yourself off the bed to her boobs and start to suck. Your lips seal around her nipples and she runs her fingers through your hair as she tries to push you deeper into her delicious breast.

“Shit, don’t stop,” Nana pleads, and you continue kneading the flesh of her boobs more, sucking when and where you can. At that moment, she forces herself back down onto your dick, taking in everything again all at once. Her walls part suddenly, and once she settles her warm pussy walls squeeze your cock as tight as she can. She begins bouncing, her moans never stopping, and you find a rhythm: each time Nana brings herself down, you thrust up to meet her halfway. The first time you do, you reach a depth to her that neither of you thought was possible, and the heat from her sex with her slick drive the pair of you insane with pleasure.

She keeps bouncing on your cock as her lewd moans gradually grow louder and louder with each of your thrusts into her needy core. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her pussy tightens again, and just as you deliver a perfectly-timed bite to her nipple, another scream rakes out of her throat as her second orgasm overtakes her. Her pussy convulses as her hips buck again and again on your cock, her thighs and tits jiggle seductively, and her tightness reaches new heights as if she wants to keep your cock inside her forever. Despite this, you never stop thrusting her, never stop making love to her, and you cover her chest in kisses while you lick up all her sweat.

You never give her a chance to catch her breath, and soon enough, an unknowable number of seconds or minutes past, you feel your own orgasm coming. You take one last look at her godly figure and divine visuals, and you finally succumb.

Hold her close, hold her tight. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want you getting away, so you only return the desire. Keep thrusting into her, forget about how she’s losing her mind. She’s gone, lost in her own pleasure, and there’s no point in bringing her back yourself. Instead, follow her. Send yourself over the edge and join her in her ecstasy.

You momentarily lose your flow of consciousness as flashes of white fill your eyes, but you’re snapped back to reality with Nana pulling at your hair. Only then do you realize; you’re actually cumming inside her. With each spurt, you thrust into her as your cock twitches against her slick walls. The cumulative heat from your cum sends just the right signals to Nana’s body, and it sends back the equivalent of screams of desperation at the illusion of breeding. Your pumps are harsh and careless – thank the stars you’re wearing a condom – but Nana is too far lost to care past the unholy pleasure you deliver to her.

“Fuck, fuck! Aaaahhh!!!!” You feel her tighter, as if clamping down on your cock, her cunt pulsating and the connection between the two of you growing wetter, slicker. Despite this, you never let up, hell-bent on giving her everything you have. One spurt turns into two, then four, then six. It didn’t matter, none of it did. It could have been the end of the world and you wouldn’t have minded. All that was important was the girl sitting on your lap, losing her mind.

As both of your orgasms die down, the pair of you fall to the mattress. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and out of breath, and all you can do is smile and giggle at each other. As each of you catch your breath, the world quiets down, and all that’s left in existence is just you and Nana.

“Wow,” she sighs, “nice.” Her smile grows wide again, and her hand once more finds your cheek to caress.

“Yeah, nice.” You laugh back at her, the adrenaline fading quickly. “Does that check the thing off your list?”

“Oh, yeah!” Nana jolts up and off the bed, or at least attempts to. Instead, she falls back next to you, and only then do you realize the fatigue rendering your bodies useless.

“So… we good?” There’s nowhere else to look but right to her. Nana’s beautiful, round, just a bit teary eyes gaze back at you with adoration and love, something you never thought you’d have for yourself in this magnitude. And yet, here you are, and here she is, as if nothing else mattered.

“Shit. That was crazy. Anyway, yeah. Thanks.” With her last ounce of strength, she comes in for one more kiss. She collapses in your arms, cuddled right up to your chest, and you can imagine she could hear how loud your heart was thumping, just like hers.

Catch her snoring an adorable snore, wrap her in an embrace that would protect her from the worst the world could throw at her. A small thought in your head says you want to keep her safe forever like this, but you know better: she’s a strong woman who can take care of herself. Think back to how lucky you are, and how you walked this journey with her. Recall how she was just a fearful nobody when you first met, remember how you watched her grow into the amazing person she is now.

Your eyelids grow heavy, and you realize your waking seconds left are numbered. Right before you drift off to sleep yourself, you hear her, in the tiniest voice ever, mumbling her confession: “Stay with me.”

“Go to sleep, Nana.” You smile and turn your head toward hers, arms wrapped around her waist.

“Not without a promise.” Her own eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell she’s fighting back her drowsiness as hard as she can. She tries blinking the sleep away, but it only works marginally.

You could say anything to her at all right now, anything in the world, but there’s really only two things that need to be put into words. Your mind rushes at a snail’s pace, and you reach for faraway ideas when the right one is just in front of you. In your mind only one question appears: “So is this like…a one time thing?”

In response Nana just leans in and kisses your cheek, then giggles. “Would me saying ‘I love you’ outside of sex prove it?” she asks playfully, her tone betraying her desire for rest.

“Touché.” One hand goes to her soft blonde hair, brushing it to the side. “But in my defence, suddenly kissing me and then getting me naked was not the first thing I expected when you said there was ‘one last thing’ in your bucket list,” you state matter-of-factly.

You share a bout of tired laughter for a moment, and then you both look at each other with pure eyes, as if you two compete to see who can make the other blush first. Decidedly, Nana loses while she confesses. “I used to think that college was supposed to be all rose-colored, that it was to be the peak of my life. But spending it with you, I learned that it doesn’t have to be all grand milestones to live through.” The air in the room swirls differently, replacing stale breaths with new ones from the open window.

“That time you cheered me on during the open mic, how you looked at me… It made me realise that after everything’s said and done, I wanted peace. And I can feel peace with you, without all the guilt of past mistakes, nor ghosts of regret that would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life,” she says, now leaning toward your ear muttering, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back, smiling from ear to ear. Eventually you both released the hug. Look around her room for your clothes, which was surprisingly hard for how your sex wasn't too feral, and in turns take showers to clean yourselves up.

As you get out of the shower, fully cleaned and with some good-enough-for-sleep clothes, you find Nana on her bed fully knocked out. You simply laugh and join her, and her instinct leads her to wrap her arms around your waist while her head leans into your chest.

“Goodnight, Nana,” you whisper with finality, as if ending the night on a perfect note. Peck her forehead and close your own eyes, and fall into slumber just as deep as hers.

Bucket List Completed

“Argh, I’m so excited!” She grips you by your collar and shakes you as she screams, jolting away any sleep you wished to get.

Two months have come and gone, and while you know it hasn’t been long, things have changed so much. Despite you trying to get just a bit more sleep in the backseat of the taxi, Nana right next to you can’t stop bouncing in hers as the sights outside the window pass her by.

“Okay, okay. Just get all this energy out before we get on the plane, please?”

She returns her attention to the window just as the taxi slows to a halt. Your new girlfriend practically throws open the door and leaps out, heading straight for the trunk to retrieve your luggage.

“Hurry up! We might miss our flight!” She struggles lifting her comically large suitcase before you hear it hits the concrete pavement followed by its handle extending with its clack-clack-clack.

“Hawaii isn’t going anywhere, Nana, please,” you mutter as you lazily exit the cab. You hand the driver your fare, and he reaches out to accept. As he does, he gives you a knowing smirk and tips his hat to you, as if saying “good luck.”

Turning around, you find Nana with all of your luggage too, eagerly awaiting your arm for her to cling to before you make your way inside. The hustle and bustle of Incheon International Airport fills her with a deep sense of excitement, and honestly, who could blame her? Your girlfriend is in the midst of all these other people — travelers, tourists, adventurers — and she fits right in. It’s the most natural thing for her now, to find herself in new situations that broaden her horizons and make her feel alive.

She yanks you to her side in line for the desk, holding her brand-new polaroid camera at a high angle. “Cheese!” she screams, not far enough from your ear, but with how happy she is, you can’t help but smile her smile too. “Our first overseas trip! This is the first time I’m leaving Seoul, let alone Korea!”

“Okay, Nana, calm down,” you chuckle, but you know she won’t. Divert her attention instead, put her energy to good use. “Do you have your passport? Carry on? Pink notebook?”

Though you both are sure she hasn’t missed anything, Nana rummages through her bag again anyway. “Check, check, and check! How could I forget?” She takes each item to show to you, and she flips through the pink notebook once it’s in her hand.

One thing about Nana, she never lets the moment escape her anymore. Once she sets out to do something, she’ll do everything in her power to accomplish that goal. This is no different, and you love her so much for it.

After looking through the notebook, she claps it shut. She flashes you the drawing of a gray bucket on its front cover before it disappears back into her carry on, and you both are reminded that a part of who you are as a couple is just that: a notebook that predicts the future by rooting itself in the present. Sadly, a weeklong trip won’t be enough for everything on her list this time, but who’s to say you’re not coming back eventually?

And at the end of the trip, you have it ready, the best gift you could give her: a little green notebook, every left-side page filled with things you want to do, and the corresponding right side page blank, all for her. And on the very last leaf, where the cardboard of the back cover accompanies it, is a drawing of a ring, with the words: “I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.”

“Come on, hurry!” She yanks again, snapping you out of your wistful thoughts. “We’re gonna miss the plane!” Nana pulls you to the gate just as the intercom announces your flight has begun boarding. “Alright, alright! Easy,” you chuckle again, and you can’t believe this is the same girl behind the gym crying her eyes out alone just last year. Funny how people change like that, but at the same time, it’s impossible to think that Nana would ever stay the same.

================================================

Thank you all for watching, it has been a long time working on it and we are really happy it is finally out, hope yall had a good read with this one,

i will see you all next time leafies~

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop smut #nana wooah #nana smut #wooah #wooah smut

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mayullla · 1 year ago

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Title: Nahida's dream and plushies

Character(s): Nahida and most of the Sumeru characters (Genshin Impact)

Summary: In her dream, she saw a lady, someone she recognized but didn't remember who till she woke up, and right beside her were plushies waiting to be taken to their look a like

Warnings/tags: Fem!reader (but doesn't appear here), sagau as in cult au/god au, no romance just mainly fluff!

Klee and the little plushies Qiqi's plushie delivery Sayu's plushie mission Nahida's dream and plushies (you are here!)

Nahida was a little bit in a daze. Her mind was elsewhere as she looked at the dolls in front of her. Small dolls made out of felt and wool. They all looked familiar to her, and she would have cooed at how cute they were, yet her mind could not help but think about that lady in her dream.

She looked like someone she knew... that aura of comfort and kindness that surround her wasn't like those old grannies who gave kids candies kind of gentle but something more eternal, more powerful than that. It would be hard to compare the power she had to the archons cause you and they were so different... so far apart.

This supposes elemental power... colorless but moldable and changing. Even archons were limited to their own element and weren't limitless, the Geo archon was strong, and he could command meteorites to fall into Teyvat and build high mountains. But he could not command the sea to flood the world. She herself even as an archon wasn't able to do much in the face of many who didn't want her back once.

"What are you looking so gloomy at." Nahida snapped out of her thoughts when she heard a cold, harsh yet familiar voice speaking to her. Looking to the side, she saw that huge hat of a certain someone she knew. "Wanderer." Nahida smiled at him, moving to face him. "I was looking at these cute dolls. Don't they remind you of some people?" Nahida giggled, knowing full well that he was familiar with some of them.

Wanderer raised an eyebrow at the many dolls that were placed on a table at the side of the room. Small plushies with simplified designs of people he knew. Rather than cute...

"They look creepy rather than cute." Wanderer crossed his arms as he narrowed his eyes.

"Do not say that. What if you hurt the person who made them." Nahida shook her head sighing. "Then they shouldn't have made such creepy things. What are they, a stalker?" Wanderer sarcastically replied.

"She is not a stalker... rather, she is someone we know... and wish to see. She made these just for us." Nahida replied. Looking back at the dolls walking towards it, she reached out for a small plushie from the bunch and handed it to the Wanderer. "Here. This is for you."

"Hmmm? I didn't know that there was another archon." Wanderer looked at the doll that looked just like him with the hair and clothes to the pout with a suspicious look. He must have noticed the white elemental aura surrounding it, but as Nahida continued to hold it out for him. Grabbing the doll, he took a closer look at it.

"She isn't an archon, someone far greater than that, actually..." Nahida replied to the Wanderer in a serious tone but didn't elaborate. Instead, she looked back at the plushies. "Wanderer, can you help me hand out these plushies. She had asked my help to give them out."

"Do it yourself. You don't really need my help with something like this. You are probably using this as an excuse for me to interact with more people." Wanderer huffed in annoyance, turning to leave. "If you don't need me, I will be heading out then."

"Hehe.. you caught me." Nahida laughed and let Wanderer head out. She, too, was busy with this after all. In her mind, she stored the memory of the Wanderer holding on to his plushie in one hand, the thoughtful looked he gave it when he thought she wasn't looking. She knew that he would not throw it away.

Storing them in a bag, she headed out of the room she started to search.

And the first person she found was Collie!

Collie was flustered when the dendro archon walked up to her as she had just come to the city with Tighnari as he had an appointment with his friends. She followed along as wanted to see the place again and buy some stuff that she could only get here.

She didn't think she would run into the dendro archon, much less suddenly be given a doll. "Is this for me?" Collie asked, taking the doll and holding it as if it would break by a slight touch. She heard from her friend Amber that she had received a doll from a mysterious lady and that it was the cutest thing ever. And it really was cute when Collie saw a small doodle of it she thought of getting one for herself.

She didn't expect she would be receiving one from the dendro archon! The both of them soon parted ways, and Collie thought of what she would tell Amber later on in her letter. Her little doll also had a small cat plush connected to it!

The next person Nahida found was Nilou, who was street performing in the middle of city hall. Her dance was so graceful and lovely Nahida didn't want to bother and instead watched till it ended, clapping when it had finished. Nilou greeted the Dendro archon with respect, happy that her archon made a visit and watched her dance.

Nahida told her that the dance was so pretty and gifted her the plush. Surprised, Nilou asked her if she was the one who made it, but Nahida shook her head, telling her that it was from a special someone.

The fans were jealous of how much Nilou treasured the doll, while others couldn't help but smile. After all, it was an honor to receive something given by the dendro archon, and they were proud of Nilous.

Next, Nahida found Cyno, who was in the middle of a TCG match. She watched him conquer the match after struggling in the first few rounds. "It is an honor that the dendro archon watched my match." Cryo raved on about his journey to win this match, and as a congratulation, Nahida gave him a little plush. "I shall treasure and protect this till my dying breath."

"Please, you don't have to go that far," Nahida replied with a worried smile. Tho it made her a little happy that he would treasure the plushie this much.

Next, she found Kaveh speaking with Dori, something about a dept, but before Nahida could get more information (not that she was trying to eavesdrop), they stopped as they had noticed her.

"My do what do I owe the Dendro archon the pleasure of visiting the Palace of Alcazarzaray. Could you be looking for something? Fabrics? Spice? Or something rare? I have it all!" Dori said, couldn't be able to contain her excitement at the idea of the dendro archon becoming her dear customer.

Kaveh was slightly more flustered but quickly composed himself and respectfully asked why she was here and if she was looking for something or someone.

"I am here to find you two." Nahida smiled and showed them two plushies that looked just like them. "They are a gift from a certain someone!" The two were surprised at the dolls, accepting them from her.

Both had different reactions.

On one hand, Kaveh had a more touched expression asking Nahida if he could know who made this lovely handmade plushie of him and his bag and that he wanted to give back, while Dori was more materialistic having come up with "a brilliant idea!" Raising her plushie with a purple small genie plush jingling at the movement to the sky, her eyes twinkling at the thought of potential mora~!

Nahida could only smile, her face hinting that the maker doesn't want to be known. Kaveh, knowing that he could not do anything here, could not help but sigh but stated that if this person were to ever need any help that he could possibly give, feel free to ask. (Dori was disappointed that she would not hire the person who made these plushies.)

The next she found was Candace and Dehya at the desert village, the two catching up after fighting some treasure hoarders trying to steal from the village. "Ah, it is the dendro archon Nahida! It has been a while!"

"Welcome to Aaru village, dendro archon."

Giving them their plush, both of them found the plushies absolutely adorable and asked the person who made them if they ever feel comfortable to come and visit them one time. Candace would gladly welcome them to the village while Dehya offered a small shopping spree as she knew all the trends and shops or if they ever needed a bodyguard one day just call her.

The last two girls, Faruzan and Layla, were found at the academy as both of them traded notes that were of interest but also some chit-chat. The two were surprised when they found out that the dendro archon was looking for them as one of the scholars frantically searched for them told them so.

"This is so cute. It even has twirly whirly my shroom buddy beside it.... I miss them." "This doll is very cute. You could see the hard work and effort placed into making each and every single stitch. Send the person who made them my thanks. I would do it myself, but it seems that they don't want to be known." "Me too! I think with this I could do better in my essay that I need to finish... yawn"

The last two people she needed to look for were Tighnari and Al Haitham and soon found them sitting at the cafe along with Kaveh and Cyno. In Al Haitham's hand was Kaveh plush while one Tighnari's was Cyno both examine it.

Cyno was going on and on about the card game he won in the presence of the dendro archon and that it was an honor to win in her presence as Tighnari told him to stop telling the same story for the third time now. "We get it. We know that you will hand down this plushie as a family heirloom!"

"There is something about these dolls that is not right...." Al Haitham narrowed his eyes at Kaveh's dolls. He definitely knew that something was up with these. "They are given by the dendro archon herself. Of course, they are unique! Gah, you are always suspicious of everything." Kaveh stated frustratedly. "Do you ever know how to relax and just appreciate the work that went into making this!"

"If you would just stop and look a little harder, maybe you would notice that something is odd about them." Al Haitham didn't look up at Kaveh. These dolls in the end weren't gifts from the dendro archon but someone who is probably of higher rank than an archon to be able to make the archon do such work.

"Al Haitham is correct about them being unique. You would never find these dolls somewhere else, even if you searched the whole Teyvat." Nahida cut in, walking towards them with a smile on her face. Everyone looked at Nahida, who stopped beside them, Al Haitham and Tighnari greeted her as they didn't see her beforehand like the other two boys had.

"These are for you!" Nahida giggled, handing Tighnari and Al Haitham their own plushies both thanking her for them. "What do you mean by unique?" Tighnari asked curiously, his tail swishing a little faster as he looked at his own doll. He saw Collie's one and wondered if he could get one, too. Lightly tugging the doll's ear long as his own, he looked at Nahida again.

"They are from someone special, someone who watches over us all." Nahida stated, her eyes closing as she remembered the lady she met in her dream, the little conversation that she and you had.

She didn't realize who you were nor why she thought that you were so familiar to her back then inside the dream she only realize who you were when she woke up and saw the plushies on the side of her and a familiar white elemental magic surrounding them.

Returning back to her room, she saw a doll that looked exactly like her surrounded by Aranara plushies. Smiling at the doll, she hugged hers and hoped that one day she would actually see you in person and not in a dream.

Note: If you find any mistakes here please tell me! Anyway, phew part 4 of the series is over! I know that Genshin has released characters outside of Sumeru that are not included here in the series yet but I plan on saving it for a later date when more characters for the past regions show up!

Another note for taglist: The tag list will be open later when Fontaine is somewhat finished and most characters are already out which would probably take a longggg time. But for now, the taglist will be closed. If anybody does not want to be tagged later tell me so that I can remove you from the list.

Taglist: @victoria1676 @muse-hub @simpaghettits @patimiet @mrmoneymoney @tsubasa10126-unwinds @akenofujihara @landofstarwind @imyme20 @strawberrgyuu @frostines-blog @barbaraphoetathoes @zyphyrr @that-emo-elf @itsyacuhjake @glue-bottle @tiffthescales @eliciana @the-real-fandom-person @pimacolada-lulu @mei-eishi @scalyalpaca @atsukawolfcat @riiriin @pale-value @dreamoffireflies06 @3noa3 @lwqfhp @mei-simp @silentterri @mishapotato @oyayablog @esthelily @tikitsune @shizunxie @jennyzyn @azelalxforfun @myhandshurts @wolfyzey18 @karma-gisa @chaoticfivesworld

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storiesforallfandoms · 11 months ago

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santa's sister in law ~ bernard the elf;the santa clause

word count: 4292

request?: no

description: in which he is adamantly against the in laws coming to the north pole, until he meets santa's sister in law

pairing: bernard the elf x female!human!reader

warnings: christmas fluff, sylvia sucking a little bit but that's just canon

masterlist (one, two, three)

Merry Christmas everyone! 🎄

a special christmas gift for @omeletdreamer 😌

Bernard was firmly against Carol's family coming to the North Pole. He liked Carol, don't get him wrong. She was a fantastic Mrs. Claus, and he loved her idea to start an elf school at the Pole. He understood that it was hard to adjust to life at the Pole, especially while she was pregnant. But bringing outsiders there was a big no-no. They were already pushing things by letting Laura, Neil, and Lucy in on the secret of Santa.

But all of his protests fell on deaf ears. Santa wanted Carol to have her family while he was going to be busy, and the other elves just wanted Carol to be happy. It was a thousand against one. So, Santa got into his sleigh and flew to get Carol's parents while the elves fixed up the Pole to look like Canada.

"This is never going to work," Bernard said to Curtis. "There's no way they're going to think this is Canada. Even if they believe these ridiculous store signs, they'll never believe Canada is inhabited by a bunch of children."

"Can you not be so negative for once?" Curtis asked. "It'll be fine."

"We are seriously pushing it with how many people know about the Pole and Santa. You can't blame me for being stressed out over it."

"Everything will be fine, Bernard. We have a plan. We got this."

Bernard huffed a sigh and walked away. He was tired of being brushed off like this. He didn't become head elf for nothing. He knew what he was doing. If only someone would just listen to him.

As he was walking away, he heard something in the distance. He looked up to see Santa's sleigh breaching through the entrance to the Pole. He couldn't see them yet, but he imagined Carol's parents in there, asleep from Sandman's magic, expecting to wake up in "Canada". He cringed to himself. There's really no going back now.

"I need a hot cocoa," he muttered to himself.

The kitchen elves were busy baking away when Bernard walked in. Carol had told them her mom's favorite cookies so they were hard at work making a batch to welcome Mrs. Newman. They were wearing comically large chef's hats pulled down to cover their pointy ears, which made Bernard glad his hair was long enough to do that naturally.

"Hi Bernard," Abby said, giving him a bright smile upon noticing him. "Want a hot cocoa?"

"I'd love one, Abby," he responded, sitting down at one of the tables.

She rushed off to make it for him. He picked up a cookie from a plate in the middle of the table to eat while waiting. Abby returned with his hot cocoa. He blew on it, disturbing the steady steam coming from the drink. He hoped that escaping to the kitchen would give him some time to prepare for Carol's parents.

He was taking his first sip of his hot cocoa when the kitchen doors opened again and in walked Santa, Mrs. Claus and her family in tow. Bernard nearly choked on his drink.

"And here's our kitchen," Santa was saying. "Oh, and Bernard's here too! Bernard is my, uh, he's my...assistant."

Bernard tried not to roll his eyes at the title.

He reluctantly stood and plastered a smile on his face. "Hi, nice to meet you...eh."

Carol's dad shook his hand while her mom pulled him in for an embrace. Bernard wasn't prepared for a third person to approach; a young woman with a smile so beautiful it left him speechless.

"This is my sister," Carol said. "We didn't know she was coming too."

"I'm (Y/N)," the woman said. "Mom and dad mentioned they were coming for a visit, so I asked Scott if it was alright for me to tag along."

"Of course it would be alright!" Sylvia cut in. "Scott's already had Carol from us for so long, he'd never say no to bringing Carol's loving sister with us to finally see her again."

Sylvia had a smile on her face but there was venom in her words. (Y/N) cringed and tried to ignore her mother's comment. "It's really lovely here so far. I'm glad I could come."

Bernard was still tongue tied. He kept opening and closing his mouth like an idiot trying to figure out something to say. (Y/N) was watching him, waiting, while Scott and Carol shared an amused look.

"Let's show you the rest of the place," Carol said, putting an arm around her sister. "We'll meet up with Bernard again later."

(Y/N) smiled and waved goodbye as the group left the kitchen. Once they were gone, Bernard felt like he was freed from a spell. He let out a long breath and slumped back down to the table. His hot cocoa had cooled down enough that he finished the rst of it in two gulps.

~~~~~~

Bernard was up late that night doing his rounds of the workshop. All the other elves had left for the night, but Bernard was often the last one up making sure everything was shut down and nothing was left out of place. With the in laws visiting, he was also making sure the workshop was locked up so no one would accidentally wander in and discover everything.

He was preparing to leave when he noticed the door to the kitchen was slightly ajar. He was sure all the baker elves had left for the night, but maybe someone had stayed behind. He poked his head into the room and almost gasped aloud when he saw it was (Y/N) who was leaning against the counter, a mug of hot cocoa in her hands. She was in her pajamas, clearly preparing for bed. Bernard was about to back away and leave her be, until she looked up form her mug and caught him. She smiled and waved to him.

"Good evening, Bernard," she said.

There was no escaping now. He stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat, trying not to seem as weird as he had earlier. He discretely made sure his ears were tucked away under his hair.

"Hi," he said. Simple, easy. You can't mess up a "hi".

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

She giggled. "Touché. I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to come out for a hot cocoa. That nice baker, Abby I think? She offered to make me one before she left. I was told she makes the best hot cocoa in all of the town."

"Oh, she does. She's the one you go to when you want a good hot drink made."

"She works magic, I'm sure."

Bernard tried not to let his smile falter. "You have no idea."

A silence fell over them. (Y/N) softy blew on her hot cocoa before taking a sip from it. A small trail of foam stuck to her upper lip as she pulled her mug away. Bernard couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

"What?" she asked.

"You just...you have something..." He gestured to his top lip.

She ran a thumb along her top lip, only smearing the foam more.

"Here, let me." Bernard reached up and wiped the foam off with his own thumb. He was suddenly very aware of their closeness when he looked into her eyes. Any words he could ever say were stuck in his throat yet again and he could only imagine how insane he looked, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "And thank you for having us here, too. I know it's a busy time of year for you guys. We don't mean to impose."

It took Bernard a moment to remember the story they had been telling Carol's parents: that Scott was a toy maker in Canada and that's why he would be so busy this time of year and needed someone to be there with Carol while she was pregnant.

"It's not imposition," Bernard assured her. "If anything, I think it's going to make Sa - Scott feel better to have you guys here for Carol while he's working."

(Y/N) nodded. "It's very nice of him to have us here considering how my parents tend to treat him."

Bernard thought back to the comment Sylvia had made earlier. The strained relationship between Scott and his in-laws wasn't anything new to him. Scott had mentioned it a few times before, most recently when he was voicing his concerns about bringing Bud and Sylvia to the Pole with Bernard in private. It was evident that both Newman sisters also noticed how their parents treated Scott, and it seemed neither of them were too happy with it.

"I understand why mom and dad get upset," (Y/N) continued. "One minute Carol was a proud principal at the local middle school, and then the next thing we know she's writing us to tell us she got married to a guy we've never even heard of and moved off to Canada to be with him. I mean, even I was skeptical then. But when she'd write to me about Scott and about being here, it was clear that she was so happy and she found the man of her dreams. Who are we to judge the quickness that they got married? As long as she's safe and happy, which she clearly is. But mom and dad don't see it that way. Dad is still convinced that Scott is a cult leader who stole Carol away or something."

(Y/N) paused and looked at Bernard. He had been listening as she spoke, just nodding along and not saying a word. She chuckled a little and shook her head. "Sorry, I'm rambling on about my family drama."

"No! It's-it's fine. Trust me, I've heard similar stuff from Sa - Scott."

She gave him a look. "You keep stuttering on Scott's name."

"Yeah."

He couldn't think of a better explanation besides that. He felt an unfamiliar burning sensation in his cheeks. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or just from being so close to her that made him feel that way. She giggled, though; a sound more beautiful than any of the twinkling bells that were often heard around the Pole.

"I'm just glad to be here," she said. "And I'm glad mom and dad can be here for when the baby is born. Maybe that will help them be a little less harsh on Scott."

She finished what was left in her mug and looked around the oversized kitchen. When Bernard realized she was probably trying to figure out where to put the dirty mug, he said, "Oh, I can take care of that for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You're our guest, and I can handle this."

She smiled and passed him the mug. "Well, thanks for talking to me, Bernard. I guess I should try to sleep again."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Bernard." She started towards the door, but then paused to turn back to him. "I hope you're not too busy tomorrow. I'd like to spend more time with you."

His face was on fire as she left.

~~~~~~

For the first time in his thousands of years as the head elf, Bernard wasn't concerned with his head elf duties. Of course he was still there if Santa needed him, but he decided not to spend the entire day in the factory and to seek out (Y/N) to spend time with her. She was delighted to see him and was more than happy to accept his offer to show her around "Canada" for the day.

This became a regular occurrence for a few days. Bernard would make sure to check in often to see if he was needed, but if he wasn't he was with (Y/N). He would feel bad about taking her away from her time with her family, but it seemed her parents were more concerned with fussing over Carol than they were about all four of them spending time together. And (Y/N) also assured Bernard that she was making time for Carol and her family as well as spending time with him.

Bernard was more than well aware he was falling in love with (Y/N), and he was also more than well aware of how bad that was. Elves falling in love was nothing new; he had officiated quite a few elf weddings in his time. But falling in love with a human was out of the question. Elves were immortal, humans were not. Scott and Carol were different - upon becoming Santa and Mrs. Claus, their aging processes had slowed down considerably. They weren't completely immortal, but they weren't aging as fast as normal humans did. But that wasn't possible for a human that an elf fell in love with. Even if (Y/N) felt the same way towards Bernard, she would still continue to age while he would stay the same for the rest of time.

But he couldn't stop himself. He was falling fast and hard. Carol's due date was creeping closer, and once it came it would only be a matter of time before the Newman family would have to go back home, meaning that (Y/N) would leave and likely would not come back. That thought hurt Bernard.

Bernard was approaching where (Y/N) was staying one day when she slipped out of the house instead. He was surprised; she had never left before he had gotten there before.

As he got closer he realized that her face was tearstained.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

(Y/N) jumped and turned to look at him. "Oh, Bernard. Sorry, I didn't see you coming. Nothing's wrong."

He was about to point out that she was very obviously upset over something when the door opened again and Sylvia slipped out. She looked like she was about to say something, but she noticed Bernard and gave him a tight smile, one that he had come to learn was very much her fake smile.

"Hello, Bernard," she said. "I was just having a conversation with my daughter. We were talking about spending the day with Carol. We haven't had an all girls day since we arrived. So, unfortunately, I don't think she'll be able to spend time with you today."

"No mom," (Y/N) said. "I said I would join you later for girls time. Besides, you know Carol has an appointment with the doctor. She won't be ready till later."

Her mother was smiling but her eyes were glaring daggers into the younger Newman girl. (Y/N) held the glare before turning to Bernard and taking hold of his arm. She didn't say anything as she dragged him away. He followed anyways, wanting to get as far away from Sylvia as he could.

"God, I don't understand what is wrong with her," (Y/N) said, letting go of Bernard long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I swear she just doesn't want Carol and I to be happy."

"What was she saying?" Bernard asked.

"Oh, she was going off about the fact that I spend so much time with you. Had her usual rant about Scott taking her precious daughter away from her and dad, and then said she'll be damned if she lets it happen with me too. Basically tried to guilt me into not spending time with you today by saying that Carol was upset that she didn't get to see me much, which I know isn't true because just the other day Carol was saying how happy she was that you and I were getting along."

She shook her head. "I'm so sick of it. It's like she can't wrap her head around the fact that maybe, just maybe, life is so busy here that Carol doesn't always have time to visit. It has nothing to do with Scott being manipulative or a cult leader or whatever conspiracy her and dad have cooked up on a certain day."

Bernard listened in silence. He felt bad that (Y/N) had to have these issues with her mother. Carol was hearing it all now, but he was sure (Y/N) heard much more of it when she was back home with her parents.

None of the Newmans could ever understand the way things were with Carol and Scott. They could never know why things were like this, but they likely wouldn't understand even if they knew.

Unless...

It was an idea that shocked even Bernard that he had it. Head elf of the North Pole, Santa's righthand man himself, considering such a thing? After being so against Carol's family coming to the Pole? It was preposterous. But his brain was so clouded by love for (Y/N) that he wasn't thinking proper.

"Come with me," he said. He didn't wait for an answer, just took hold of her hand and pulled her towards the workshop.

His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in hips pointed ears. He had to remind himself there was no going back. This was going to be huge, and it could likely get him into a world of trouble.

He opened the doors to the workshop and (Y/N) stepped in. She looked around in awe at the working elves, most of which were not hiding their ears as the workshop was supposed to be off limits to the Newmans. None of them seemed to notice the two of them enter, and if they did, nothing was said.

Bernard watched (Y/N), nervously waiting for her reaction.

"Is this...what I think it is?" she asked him. "No, it can't be. I must be dreaming. I fell and hit my head and now I'm in a coma having a very vivid dream that all of these small people who are supposed to be Canadians have pointed ears like they're elves."

When she looked over at him, Bernard had taken off his hat and allowed his ears to peak out from under his hair.

"I've lost it," she decided.

"You haven't," he assured her. "All of this is real. It's why Carol hasn't been able to visit as much, or why you couldn't visit until now. Look, there's so much to know about all of this. So much that I want to tell you but technically I can't because there are strict rules about humans knowing about the North Pole."

(Y/N) had another quick moment of shock that she was able to very quickly recover from. "Rules that you're currently breaking by showing me...Santa's workshop. By admitting that you're an elf, these are all elves...oh my God, my sister is Mrs. Claus."

"It is all very complicated," he said. "But you deserve to know that Carol is truly happy here. She's not being held against her will, Santa isn't manipulative or holding her captive. He loves her so much that he risked you and your parents finding out about him - about us - so that all of you could be here for her while she's pregnant."

(Y/N) still seemed to be stunned. She looked around the bustling factory again, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Wait," she said. "But...if you all went through so much to make us think this was Canada, to keep who Scott is a secret...then why are you telling me now?"

Because I love you. Because I want you to stay. Because I want to be with you more than anything, even though I know that will never happen.

"Because I want you to know the truth," he replied. "About all of this. About...about me."

She was looking at him. He didn't know what else to say, so he just looked back. He waited for an answer. He willed her to say something, anything.

She didn't say anything, though. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed Bernard. It was quick, almost hesitant, and when she pulled away she looked embarrassed.

"Sorry," she said. "I...should I have done that? I should've asked first. Was it okay that I did that?"

He smiled. "It was more than okay."

"Okay. I'm...I'm going to do it again, if that's still okay."

Bernard chuckled and moved in to kiss (Y/N) first. He had only ever kissed one person before - when he was young one of the other elves had gave him a quick peck on the lips and ran away afterwards. Not exactly something glamorous or anything like that. So he was a little worried about whether or not he was a good kisser. Although, something felt so natural about kissing (Y/N), like he could never do it wrong even if he tried.

He paused when he realized a slight hush had fallen over the workshop. He and (Y/N) pulled away to see that all the working elves had stopped what they were doing to look at the two of them.

"Back to work!" Bernard commanded. They all quickly fell back into what they had been doing before. "Bunch of gossips, all of them. Everyone in town will know about this by nightfall."

"I don't blame them. I'd assume it's not every day that they see an elf kissing a human."

He chuckled. "No, I guess not."

They decided to step out of the workshop to talk more in private. (Y/N) looped her arm through Bernard's as they walked, a gesture that suddenly felt much more intimate than it had before.

"I guess it goes without saying that I can't tell anyone about this," she said. "Not even my parents."

"No. Which I know is a big ask, but we can't have the secret of Santa going around," Bernard explained.

"Not like anyone would believe me. They'd think I was crazy if I went home talking about how my brother in law is Santa and how I started crushing on one of his elves. They'd sent me to an institute for sure."

Bernard smiled at her word choice. So she had liked him this whole time, too. Had it been obvious? Or had she been trying to contain it just as much as he did?

"How...would things work...for us then?" she asked.

It was the question he was dreading. The one he continued to ask himself despite knowing the answer to: it wouldn't. He couldn't let (Y/N) hold on to him when she left the Pole. She'd likely never see him again, which was for the best.

Seeing the look on his face, (Y/N) stopped. "No, do not tell me it's not going to work."

"It can't work, (Y/N). There's too much complications between a human and an elf being romantically linked. It's never happened before, and for good reason."

"There's a first for everything."

He shook his head. "No, there can't be a first for this. I can't let you throw away any other romantic opportunities you have for me. We may never see each other after this visit."

"My sister is married to Santa. There's no way I'm not coming back after this. And besides, long distance relationships are a thing."

"This one would be...very long distance."

She slid her arm from his and took his hand in hers. "I'm willing to try. I like you too much to give up without a fight."

Every rational part of his brain was screaming for him to stop. He could not let things go further. It was better for her if they ended everything after that first kiss and went hteir separate ways.

But the less rational part of his brain was louder than the rest, telling him not to give up this chance at happiness outside of work. He deserved to love and to be loved, just like anyone else in the world. If it worked for Scott, it had to work for him too, right?

He sighed and squeezed her hands. "It won't be easy."

"I don't expect it to be."

"You won't be able to be here a lot unless you're willing to give up everything the way Carol did."

"That's fine, we can make that work."

"And if you do end up coming here permanently, you can't tell anyone who I really am, or who Scott and Carol really are. You'll have to lie to everyone in your life. Is that something you can be okay with?"

(Y/N) stepped closer to him so that their noses were nearly touching. "I'm already lying about Scott and Carol. What's one more lie about the man I love?"

Love.

It was enough for him to abandon all hope at resisting her. He closed the space between them, kissing her again so passionately that it made her head spin. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, while he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He could've kissed her forever. He could've stood there, wrapped around her and her wrapped around him, the cold nipping at them but barely bothering them, forever. He wanted to take this moment and freeze it, to never have to go back to his busy life as Santa's right hand elf ever again.

But she pulled away first, resting her forehead against his.

"I did promise my mom a girl's day," she said with a sigh. "And I think if I blow her off for this, she'll probably actually kill me."

"I guess I'll have to let you go then."

But he didn't, and she didn't let go of him. They laughed and kissed again.

It would be another several minutes before he would finally (and reluctantly) let her go.

#bernard the elf #bernard the elf imagine #bernard the elf x reader #david krumholtz #david krumholtz imagine #david krumholtz x reader #the santa clause #christmas #merry christmas #happy holidays #christmas imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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dark-dragon-8 · 19 days ago

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In case you guys couldn't tell, Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing, is my favorite DC character. Specifically because I can just write/imagine him however way I want, within the realm of (fanon) reason, and someone will agree with me/there's already a fic about it.

Want to read about a murderous character? Nightwing has once killed the Joker and (as far as I know) didn't regret it. Not to mention Renegade also exists (along with former Talon AU, secret/resolved "killer" AU, where he kills but doesn't tell anyone, and more minor ones as well) and there are several fics where he takes on that alias in order to deal with some "unfinished business" regarding his family.

Want to read about an undercover character using their looks and flirting to their benefits (and having the attention of everyone at the bar by simply existing and being hot)? I have read so many undercover Dick Grayson that wore the sluttiest outfits just to get info. Even read a few where he did it to make his siblings (mainly Jason) more comfortable since they weren't comfortable with it yet that was his forte (regardless of whether or not he liked doing that as well).

Looking for a rich (kinda spoiled, an act, but still lovable and amazing) Nepo baby that everyone thirsts over in the gala? Richie Wayne is right there and is the eldest Wayne/heir, that's bound to cause some drama at parties/Galas (esp with protective Batfam) and I love that (please give me more fics like that, I can barely find any).

Want a badass vigilante that can beat the absolute life out of criminals and defeat Batman with relative ease? Nightwing is one of the strongest members of the Batfam, if I remember correctly he even defeated Cassandra/an opponent equal to Cassandra before.

Want to read an angst filled story about a character that feels like they're being objectified all the time and just wants a break? Do I even have to say it?

Want a character study about how the annoyed/stubborn/exhausted guy from the comics turned into an "attention whore" on fics? I remember reading (and even writing) character studies where Dick is suffering from stuff such as hypersexuality and anxiety issues where he needs people to see/notice/pay attention to him as a result of his sexual trauma (the assault & other stuff he went through).

And so much more. The duality of that man, when a character has such a variety of interpretations and ways to write about them it just fills that writer/storyteller/reader in me with joy. That complex potential that I seek in characters, like being able to kill someone while also being a hero loved by the hero community, a celebrity loved by the world and a few beyond it, a spoiled rich kid when he likes to indulge himself and a victim that has suffered through so much, it's natural to give them different ways (separation anxiety, exhibitionism, aversion to touch, etc) to cope and deal with the horrible hand that was given to them. It's just something that is very rare to come across in a character, especially one so well known and loved for all of those different things rather than only one or two of them taking over the entire character and its interpretation, and I really love Nightwing for being that character for both writers and readers looking for somethings and finding all they could ask for and more in just a singular tag (ofc I know the other characters have a variety as well, Dick just has such a big variety and his "spectrum" is so big, vast and versatile, he has a piece of the fandom for everything, like a bunch of different characters smacked into one, all sharing the same name, it's why I chose him specifically and why I love reading about him the most specifically).

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stars-and-the-min · 7 months ago

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☆ the wrong way to hard launch (8) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n all aboard the speculation train

masterlist | last part | part 8 | next part

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by oscarpiastri and 312,294 others

selinabui somehow @.rollingstone thought it would be an amazing idea to slap me on their cover?? anyways may 2024 🔜 it has an exclusive interview with urs truly p.s. whoever came up with that nickname for me deserves a raise ♥️♥️♥️ tagged: rollingstone, shotsbynadia, michealpollard, lilybeehair and jesszhang_

oscarpiastri Forgot how to breathe for a sec ↳ tina_kim @ oscarpiastri ur so real for this

linasgirl4 'the speakeasy siren'??? 😮‍💨

eb_jonno i'm confused by your dress ↳ selinabui @eb_jonno i was confused as well, don't worry about it, just admire how good i look

TWITTER

↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 49m fork found in kitchen, we had to wait over three years for a sophomore album, we'll live ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 47m but then again... no 'new' music makes me think that lina is being sneaky again

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 28m too many people talking about the 'no new music' bit of the interview and not enough talking about how oscar's going to drive lina to florence after imola ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 27m i didn't think it would be possible, but i think i just heard this woman giggle over a man through my phone via a printed interview

amie <3 @mieflrs · 2h it's actually so insane how smoothly the empty bottles pr team buried all the tommy talk. i didn't even notice bc they moved so naturally to 'chris and eb reunion??' and then the rolling stones cover + interview like they just dropped us better things to talk about ↳ amie <3 @mieflrs · 2h slay empty bottles pr team, i really appreciate y'all 🫶

r/EmptyBottles · Posted by u/luckyluna9364 5 hours ago Lina x Oscar Timeline

Has anyone worked out the relationship timeline for Lina and Oscar? I've been talking to some of my F1 friends, and there's so much confusion about how and when they met because these two people have barely been in the same country at the same time. This is, of course, if we go off the common perception that Zhou Guanyu was definitely the person who introduced them.

buisms84 · 4 hr. ago op i was literally just thinking about this!! lina's been pretty much stuck in california since the pandemic and oscar flies around for races all the time, it's pretty possible that they didn't meet first but rather started texting? but then when did they start going out because they clearly look familiar with each other. fantstic013 · 4 hr. ago streets are saying as early as silverstone 2023 👀 but we all know lina is super secretive about her current relationships (bar whatever mess thomas howard was)

summersweettea1389 · 3 hr. ago i think the confirmed timeline is what we've all been experiencing these past few months. like there seems to be no other indicator they were linked, even platonically, before that insane hard launch. luckyluna9364 OP · 3 hr. ago I know that Lina can be really sneaky but she also loves messing with us, so I'm convinced she was subtly soft-launching him and we all didn't notice. But you know what I found most strange? Right before the hard launch, a bunch of different new sites were publishing rumours, I'm not super online, but were there rumours earlier? whatthekermitdid · 3 hr. ago ur talking about the rumors of them over the holiday season when they both happened to be at the same party but that was debunked ages ago - they went with different ppl but they may have met there?

TWITTER

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 5h no, i don't think u understand, i'm actually SCREECHING over oscar's answer to the 'texting the wrong person' question from the never have i ever video

↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 5h I'M SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM I SWEAR 🥹

↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2h 'most awkward conversation of my life'??? 'not the best way to confess'??? SELINA WHAT DID U SAY TO THIS MAN 😭 ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 3h NO I NEEEED TO KNOW HOW SHE REACTED

lina !!! @EB_selina · 48m everyone keeps tagging/sending me the clip of oscar talking about accidentally texting me about me. guys, i was there, i know it happened, and i will be taking my reaction to the grave ↳ Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 12m She's embarrassed because she ghosted me for like a week ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 11m sir why are u lying???

june @linafesting · 2h finding out that oscalina's talking stage was oscar giggling and texting his friends how much he liked her and lina ghosting him after an accidental confession is pure comedy ↳ june @linafesting · 2h oscalina, the couple that keeps on giving us anything but photos together

↳ clovie @ luvyouvie · 57m wait where did lina mention oscar? ↳ li(n)a @meliabelrose · 44m rolling stone interview, she mentions him like 8 times

r/EmptyBottles · Posted by u/luckyluna9364 3 days ago Lina x Oscar Timeline [read new comments]

whatthekermitdid · 5 hr. ago ok so my f1 friend just told me that the never have i ever video was filmed like in february (or earlier) which means that oscalina were going out since at least then BUT (and maybe i'm delulu) i couldn't help but notice that he's v calm about it like it happened a long time ago which is really no help to this timeline

niaphilia283 · 3 hr. ago not to sound clinically insane but have we considered that they've been together for a lot longer than we imagined? thinking logically, selina isn't the type of person to so publically acknowledge a new boyfriend - she didn't even mention tommy until like seven months - and judging by her recent behaviour (the hard launch, the dedicated performance, the birthday instagram post) she's either down so astronomically bad she'll never recover from it OR they've been together for at least two years luckyluna9364 OP · 3 hr. ago if they've been tgt for even longer than ONE year i'd actually lose it bc there's noooo way lina would be that quiet about it niaphilia283 · 3 hr. ago wait i just remembered that two years ago would be around when tommy got engaged and lina def would've made a big deal about any relationship my bad

TWITTER

clara @ zgy24 · 2h these photoshoots have the same vibe and it was the first thing i thought of 😭

lina for elle china zhou for champion

↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 1h what a copycat @ZhouGuanyu24 😒 ↳ 周冠宇 | Zhou Guanyu 🇨🇳 @ZhouGuanyu24 · 1h I did it better

MESSAGES

from the phone of oscar piastri

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 2h been feeling mean lately, how much trouble should i cause? ↳ EB BAR @theemptybottlesbar · 2h selina pls have mercy MERCY I BEG

kayla @luna_apocolypse · 1h it's been an hour since that cryptic ass tweet, i'm shaking lina what do you have up your sleeve

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 32m OH MY GOD WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY????

EB BAR @theemptybottlesbar · 43m We'd like to extend our condolences to @ McLarenF1, we're working on getting her media training, but it doesn't seem to be working ↳ McLaren @ McLarenF1 · 39m We're all in this together 🥹 ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 42m WHAT DID SHE DO???? IS IT THE LIVE?? WHAT DID SHE SAY IM AT WORK SELINA HOW COULD U DO THIS TO ME

amie <3 @mieflrs · 29m i just know that pr team has being worked TO DEATH this past week like RIP

INSTAGRAM selinabui started a live video

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

r/EmptyBottles · Posted by u/luckyluna9364 6 days ago Lina x Oscar Timeline [read new comments]

luckyluna9364 OP · 1 hr. ago this thread is getting super active after lina's livestream so i'm doing my best to summarise what ppl are saying: - a much longer relationship than anticipated is highly possible; lina was still pretty vague with the timing all she really said was 'long enough' what long enough is to her is up to debate (most are keeping the benchmark at 7mo) - lina mentioned her aunt (zhou guanyu's mother) has invited them to have dinner in shanghai which means that not only has lina's family known and met oscar but also that lina is stopping over in shanghai for a bit before performing in shenzhen (exciting news for the oscalina stans) - her freezing up suggests that she and oscar were keeping a lot of the relationship private or even secret for a while and it was genuinely a mistaken slip that wasn't at all supposed to happen (one can only wonder how oscar reacted) - a couple people think that EB planned the tour schedule around the F1 calendar (there are quite a few overlaps in races and shows) which would mean that they were together BEFORE tour announcement which was back in november - one user is betting their life savings that they met before oscar's f1 debut, for that user's sake i hope it's true.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

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jeankluv · 4 months ago

Text

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 17

words: 4k

summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as " hate " was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

ac: _3aem

tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

warning for this chapter: mentions of s€xual harassment

notes: posting this before chapter 265, bc I’m scared 😭 also during this month I will be posting a sneak peek of an upcoming Gojo fic I will be posting, if you want to be tagged to see the sneak peek please let me know , comment something like “I want to see the sneek peak” and I will tag you 💗

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

jujutsu kaisen | ao3

Satoru Gojo POV

Satoru tied the buttons of the vest he was wearing. He had put on a navy blue three-piece suit, or rather he had been forced by the Utahime to do so. It seems that way he would go with you that night. Satoru looked at his reflection, he looked good, but no matter how much he dried his hands, they were still sweaty. Satoru was extremely nervous. There were a bunch of things that were in his head but they all danced around the charity gala that night.

He was nervous about the gala, about meeting his parents after the last time, meeting his grandparents, meeting the other families present, but what he was most nervous about was seeing you. Satoru didn't feel ashamed to take you to the gala if he could, Satoru would come in shouting from the rooftops to ask everyone to look at you and admire you. But Satoru knew that one wrong step could ruin everything and that could hurt you in a way he didn't want.

Putting his hand on his chest, he took a deep breath and grabbed his car keys to leave his apartment. There were still 20 minutes until the agreed time to see you, but Satoru preferred to wait for himself than make you wait so he drove, with his gaze fixed on the road.

The sun was still shining but the sky had already begun to take on that orange tone that indicated that night was about to arrive. It was evident that summer was just around the corner, the days had become longer and the temperatures had begun to rise. Satoru was looking forward to it, he had too many plans for the both of you in mind, he wanted to take you to the beach again, take you to festivals, to see the fireworks, etc., Satoru wanted to spend the first of many summers to come with you.

He parked the car, right in front of your house and stayed inside the car as he waited for the time to come. His leg moved up and down and his heart pumped heavily into his chest. He knew you were going to look beautiful and that he, was going to lose his head and fell to his knees.

With barely 5 minutes left, Satoru got out of his car and put on his suit so that it wouldn't look wrinkled after sitting in the car. He felt how the people passing by looked at him and began to whisper about him. Most of the time it was something he didn't care about, but now he just wanted a pair of eyes on his.

Satoru heard the door open and his heart began to race, he looked like a teenager in one of those American movies waiting for his partner to take her to the prom. With his hand on his chest, he watched you walk out onto the street and Satoru swore his heart could stop at that moment.

You were wearing a blue dress with gold details, with a v-neckline, which fit at your waist, highlighting your figure and then fell softly to the floor. Satoru approached you and took in the subtle makeup that highlighted your features. You were beautiful, no, the word beautiful was not enough to describe what Satoru's eyes saw. You were a queen, a goddess.

“Stop looking at me with those eyes.” You whispered hiding the heat of your face.

Satoru covered his mouth and then chuckled. “I’m sorry birdie.” His cheeks were red and hurting from the smile that was drawn on his face. “You look… oh god, I could die right here and now.”

You softly laughed and Satoru felt how he was falling in love with you all over again. “Please don’t, I don’t want to use this beautiful dress to be sitting in a hospital room.”

Satoru laughed and kissed your cheeks. “I think we have some stalkers.” He moved his eyebrows looking behind you.

You turned around and looked where Satoru was looking. “I told you to stay inside!” You cried looking at Kyoko and her parents.

“Sorry, sorry but you two look so cute.” Kyoko said with a smile.

You huffed and took Satoru's hand. “Let's go.”

“Have fun and be careful.” You heard Kyoko's mother and father scream. You said goodbye with a smile and got into Satoru's car.

Satoru waved goodbye to them too and entered the car, looking at you with a smile. “Ready?” You nodded, but Satoru noticed your nervous expression, so he intertwined his hands and raised it to his mouth. "Everything will be fine." He said planting a kiss on your hand.

“Thank you.” You whispered with a smile.

Satoru just nodded and resignedly let go of your hand, to hold the steering wheel and drive off to reach the venue where the charity gala would be held. Even though Satoru had tried to reassure you, he was also extremely nervous, either way he wanted to avoid meeting his parents in that place or someone who could potentially ruin your evening, so he would make sure to have all his instincts on alert to that nothing happened and you could enjoy.

His blue eyes focused on the road ahead, the sun was already setting, painting the sky with orange and pink colors. There wasn’t much traffic on your way there, probably because most people left for the weekend to spend their time on the beach.

As you both got closer to where the gala was going to take place, Satoru could feel his hands sweating even more. It was then when he felt your hand on his arm, squishing it gently trying to calm him down.

Satoru released one of his hands from the steering wheel and intertwined your hands, gently caressing it with his thumb, giving you security and strength for the evening that awaited both of you.

When he finally parked the car the parking lot that screamed money, he turned to look at you and held both of your hands with his.

“If you want to leave.” Satoru began. “Doesn’t matter when, just tell me and we leave.” He looked you in the eyes. “And don’t try to pretend to be someone you are not, be yourself. Because your true self is awesome and I hope everyone sees it.”

You looked at him with a warm expression. “You are the amazing one.” You kissed his lips.

Satoru smiled and he got out of the car to turn and open your door, you wrapped his arm tightly and you both began to walk towards the entrance.

Your POV

Your heart was beating frenetically, you didn’t understand why you were that nervous, if it was because you could be meeting Satoru’s family that night, for the people who were attending or because you were scared that you could fucked up everything and make Satoru somehow embarrassed.

Although Satoru’s words were calming and his touch was warm and recomforting, which brought you a big security.

You both entered the elevator with your arm still around Satoru's. You looked at the dress Utahime had given you and smiled, it was beautiful, you felt beautiful that night.

The elevator opened it’s door on the floor that the gala was taking place and your stomach turned, feeling the anxiety taking over you. But once again Satoru’s comforting touch made you relax. You put the best of the smiles on your face and walked proudly beside Satoru.

As you started to enter the big places, you saw how the gazes of curious eyes turned to look at you and started gossiping about you.

“They are probably wondering who is the beautiful girl besides the heir of the Gojo clan, so relax.” Satoru whispered to your ear.

You nodded and tried not to pay too much attention to all the eyes that were in you, but it was difficult as their whispers seemed to become louder with each passing moment. Trying to distract yourself from them you took a look at the place, it was pure luxury, white and gold colors adorned the place and everyone looked fancy.

You didn’t want to feel small looking at those people and that place, but it was hard not to. And it was harder not to think about the difference between you and Satoru. It seemed as if with every minute that passed, it grew even wider and you held on with your nails to keep from falling.

“You okay?” Satoru stood before you, with a concerned look on his face.

“Yes, yes.” You nodded. “It’s just new, all this.”

Satoru leaned towards your face and placed a kiss on your cheek, causing your face to probably take on a reddish hue. “I know it might not be the best moment but I want you to meet someone.” He held your hand and you felt as your heart stopped.

Your legs started to shake as you moved across the place. Satoru greeted those present as he made his way through the people. And your heart only accelerated more with every step you took towards the unknown person or people that he wanted to introduce you to.

His hand tangled with yours gave you security and you knew Satoru would not put you in a thought situation. All your friends were just right about him, he was down on your knees for you. It had been difficult to see him but now every time you looked at him you could see in his eyes the admiration and affection he had for you. And that only made your heart race as fast as it could. Your old self from three months ago would hate to admit it out loud, but you were completely in love with him.

“Grandma, grandpa.” Your mind came back to reality and you found yourself in front of an old couple, Satoru’s grandparents.

“Oh Satoru!” The lady hugged Satoru, who was still holding your hand tightly. “You came and look at you, you look beautiful.”

“Grandma please.” You noticed Satoru’s red cheeks and couldn’t help but smile watching his shy face.

“It’s good to see you son.” His grandfather spoke.

“It’s good to be here.” He smiled. “And I would like to introduce you to someone.” His smile became bigger, he proudly said your name and you felt your heart melting.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Gojo and Mrs. Gojo.” You greeted them with a small bow.

Your heart started to rise when they both stayed in silence looking at you. “Oh darling, you are so beautiful.” His grandmother hugged you. “Satoru has told me about you.” You smiled and looked at Satoru.

“You two are dating?” His grandfather questioned him.

“Yes.” Satoru firmly said.

“Which family are you from?” You felt your heart sinking, you were not ashamed of your mother's surname but you knew why he was asking that question.

“Grandpa…” Satoru began.

But you cut him off and told him your family name. “It’s my mother’s family name.”

He looked at you with a sharp gaze, that could make anyone feel small but you wouldn’t let that happen. “No father?”

Satoru gripped his fits. “Grandpa enough please.”

“No sir, he abandoned my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant.” You said, coldly. You felt Satoru’s eyes on you and you could tell he was probably worried about you.

“Your mother is really brave.” His grandmother spoke. “Satoru told me about you and you seem like a very nice girl.” You bit your lip, your mother had barely raised you, it was only six years that you were together before chance took her away from you.

“Grandma…”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “She is amazing.”

You didn’t know his grandparents and you and Satoru hadn't been dating that long, so his family might get the wrong idea about you and think you were after their fortune. And you didn't want that, because it wasn't true and you trusted Satoru, but you didn't want false ideas put into his head.

“Your parents are looking for you Satoru.” His grandfather spoke once again.

You felt Satoru tense up next to you and in an attempt to calm him down, you ran your hand along his back, trying to make his nervousness disappear. Satoru just nodded and Satoru's grandparents excused themselves to go greet a couple a little further away. Satoru's grandmother gave you a warm smile that made you feel good and calm. When they both left, you both expelled the air you had in your lungs and laughed when you saw that you had made the same gesture.

“Sorry that they asked you about your parents.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, I knew they could ask me.” He smiled. “Your grandfather told you that your parents are looking for you.”

He sighed. “Yeah but I really don’t feel like seeing them, besides I know they are going to be really harsh with you.”

“I can handle them.”

“Birdie…”

“Oh look how beautiful you look!” A female voice said behind the both of you.

“Utahime!” You smiled.

“You look amazing, everything looks amazing.” She said looking at you.

“You know, if I didn’t know you had a girlfriend I would be jealous thinking you might be flirting with my girlfriend.” Satoru whispered.

“Gojo shut up.” Utahime responded. “But really you look so beautiful.”

“It’s all thanks to you.” You smiled holding her hands.

“Only because the model it’s beautiful.”

You saw Satoru rolling his eyes. “Anyways, Utahime can you stay with birdie?”

“You are already leaving your girlfriend alone?”

“I’m leaving her with you, since the both of you seem to get along so well.”

“We do.” Utahime took your arm.

“Satoru, let me go…” But Satoru shook his head.

“I will see you in a bit.” And kissed your cheek.

You sighed seeing how he disappeared between the people. You wanted to go with him and supporting him if he was facing his parents.

“If he is going to see his parents it’s better like this.” Utahime turned you around and both of you started walking across the room. “They are… they are really complicate and won’t leave you alone.”

“I just want to be there for Satoru.” You looked down.

“And I’m sure Satoru knows that but believe me, I have known the Gojo family since I was literally a kid and his parents are something else.” She shook her head. “Probably as soon as they find out that you are not from any wealthy family, will try to cut your relationship with Satoru.”

You looked at her with concern. “Satoru is an adult, they can’t…”

“These families are not like the rest, most people here only care about their money, their status and their name. They don’t care whether their children are happy or not.”

“That’s why you are hiding it?” You asked her.

“In part, I’m afraid but I also know that my parents are not like most of these families.” She smiled. “I know I would have their support but still I’m afraid and I’m just sending hints to them.” She looked at you.

“I’m glad to hear that Utahime.” You smiled back at her.

“Now let’s go and grab some drinks shall we?” She giggled and started walking towards the bar.

Satoru Gojo POV

Satoru walked through the people that gathered around the room, laughing and chatting happily while drinking expensive wine, as if nothing else mattered. His blue eyes scanned the room searching for those familiar figures, which caused his stomach to close.

When he saw them talking animatedly with a couple, he clenched his fists and took a deep breath, before starting to walk towards them and putting on his best mask.

“Mother, father.” Satoru greeted both of them.

And like the perfect two face they were, they acted as two loving parents. “Oh our lovely son!” His mother said.

“Son this are Mr. And Mrs. Tanaka.” His father introduced them. “They are the owners of a major technology company.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Satoru said with a smile.

“Our son is currently studying a major in technology.” His mother said and Satoru got the urge to punch the air.

“I’m actually studying physics, astrophysics if we are more correct.” Satoru smiled.

“Oh how interesting.” Mr. Tanaka said.

“You are the same age as our daughter.” Mrs. Tanaka smiled.

“Oh really?” His mother said with surprise. “Sana was such a good girl, you two should meet and maybe…”

“Sorry.” Satoru knew where this conversation was going and he was not liking it. “I have a girlfriend and I’m not interested in meeting anyone.”

“Son, don't be stupid, you will probably break up with that girl.” His father said.

“Father, I’m not planning on breaking up with her, I love her. So I would like for both of you to respect that.” He looked at his parents, feeling how heart was starting to race with each sentence being said. “Now if you would excuse me.”

Satoru farewelled from them and started to walk quickly as if the steps he was taking weren’t enough to escape from them. He wanted to see you, to kiss you, to hug you and to take you away from that place.

Satoru walked through the great hall, greeting those who greeted him. He knew most of them and knew that their kindness was nothing more than interest, interest in getting closer to his clan and the company. So Satoru just gave them a smile and continued on his way, searching for you in the crowd.

But Satoru’s heart dropped when he saw the scene a few meters from him.

You were behind Utahime looking down and hiding your face, while Utahime was loudly shouting at the person she had in front of her. Satoru didn’t know what was happening but his pulse, his heart, everything was telling him that something happened and you were not okay.

With big steps he approached the surroundings and finally saw the person Utahime was screaming at, Naoya Zenin. Satoru knew he was not good news, he was the worst of news actually. He took a deep breath and walked to where you and Utahime were.

“Hey.” He ignored Naoya. “What happened?” He touched your face, which was still hidden from his gaze.

“Naoya happened.” Utahime muttered. “That asswhole.” She turned to look at you and whispered your name in a sweet way. “You okay?”

“Utahime tell me what happened.” Satoru begged.

Utahime hesitated, unsure if she should or not tell him what happened. “Well he…”

“No, Utahime… please.” You whispered.

You sounded defeated almost like you were about to pass out. Satoru swallowed, he wanted to know why you were like that but he also didn’t want to push you further.

He took a quick look at Naoya and then took your hand. “We're going to leave.”

“I'm leaving too, I don’t feel like being here anymore.” Utahime said and lovingly rubbed your back.

When you got to the car, unlike other times you didn't get into the passenger seat, but instead you went straight to the back, to sit with Utahime or rather to rest your head on his lap.

Satoru's discomfort did not stop increasing, it killed him to see you like this, it killed him that he could not do anything to help you to alleviate whatever he wanted you to be suffering at that moment.

It wasn't until you were in the car that Satoru saw your face. It was swollen and your eyes were red from crying. The mere thought that Naoya had made you cry made his blood boil. He knew you well enough to know that you were not easy to cry and that you hardly bowed your head, so Naoya had to really hurt you for you to be like this.

Satoru tried to focus on the road but his mind couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop racing. When he parked the car in Utahime's building he watched as you both said your goodbyes.

“If you need, call me or Shoko.” You only hummed in response. “Bye Satoru.”

“Bye…” He only said.

And the car stayed quiet, Satoru tried to remain calm and to approach you as calmly as possible. He didn’t know why you were in the state you were but wanted to help you.

“Birdie…” He whispered, looking at you through the interior mirror.

“It was nothing.” You whispered.

Satoru narrowed his eyes and sighed. "Nothing? Birdie, look at the state you’re in, that’s not nothing.”

“Satoru, just… drive me home.” You simply said.

Satoru shook his head and got out of the car and went into the back, sitting next to you. “My love, look at me.”

In that instant, when the words left his mouth, Satoru was not aware of the nickname. For him it had been natural, something that had come from his heart and that he was not afraid to say. But when your red eyes, from crying so much, looked at him, he realized the new nickname he had used.

“You just…” You whispered.

Satoru chuckled and closed his eyes. “Yes birdie, I just did that.” But Satoru couldn't be distracted, he couldn't ignore that you looked completely defeated. “But birdie, please talk to me.”

Satoru felt how your breathing trembled and how you closed your eyes tightly. Without waiting a second, Satoru wrapped you in his arms and his heart broke a little when you began to sob against his vest. His grip tightened, wanting your pain to go away. But he also wanted to go back to that place and beat up Naoya, he didn't know why but he knew that he deserved it.

“He was my boss…” You whispered after a few minutes.

You separated yourself from his body and looked into Satoru's eyes, he could feel the vulnerability in your gaze, something he had rarely seen in you. He carefully caressed your cheek, trying to give you warmth and security.

“I used to work at his bar, after working at the store.” You continued. “It was bad…” You whispered.

Satoru watched and swallowed, thinking about the possibilities you had to face with that bastard. “Birdie…”

“I used to have panic attacks before going there.” A broken chuckle escaped your lips. “But I kept on going, because the salary was not bad and I needed the money.”

You felt silent, with your breath still unstable and your face buried on Satoru’s chest. You probably could feel his heart beating fastly on his chest, he wanted to calm himself not to distress you but he couldn’t, not when you were telling him that.

“Back at the club where we went, I met him.” You paused. “I was with Shoko and then Yuki came, so nothing happened.”

Then something on Satoru clicked. “It was him.” It wasn’t a question, it was an affirmation and you just hummed. “Birdie…” Satoru's voice shook, your nickname coming out in a thin voice from his throat. “Did he… did he ever put his hand on you?”

You stayed silent, just squeezed his shirt and breathed deeply. “He tried…” Satoru at that moment saw red and his only thought was to get out of that car and return to the gala to beat up the Zenin's posh kid. “But nothing happened, a client came in and… well he stopped, but his disgusting behavior and sexual harassment never stopped.”

“I'm so sorry…” Satoru whispered against your hair. You shook your head.

“It's not your fault, you are an angel, 'Toru.” Satoru kissed your hair and caressed your back.

“You want to tell me what happened tonight at the party?” Satoru pulled away from you and you finally looked at him, your eye makeup was smudged and your nose was slightly red as were your eyes.

“Can we go home first?” You asked, looking into his blue eyes.

“Sure…” He whispered, leaving a kiss on the corner of your lips.

— comment if you want to be tagged

🏷️: @lavender-hvze , @crybabytoru , @sanriosatoru , @norvacaine , @sadmonke , @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic , @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun , @manyno , @ropickle , @anniegojo , @milk3evee , @crunchypotatoooooooooo , @catobsessedlady , @zoeyflower , @starlostwish , @tinydonkeysforlife , @mimisq11341 , @n1vi , @olanii1019 , @vtrulvamp , @yjuisu

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zenkindoflove · 4 months ago

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You guys do not want to go down the road of starting to make blanket declarations that specific ships are "problematic" and "triggering". And let me explain why.

ACOTAR fandom, in my experience, is notoriously very far removed from general fandom. It's big and dispersed across many platforms that weren't created around fandoms, and so a lot of people enter it having little to no experience in other fandoms.

This discourse about what is or isn't a problematic ship and what kind of person ships a couple like that is not new. Fandoms of yesterday yore have had long fights about this and a general consensus has emerged which is anytime you start playing the morality policing game around people having fun with fictional characters, everyone loses.

Let's take this situation with Elain Archeron Week which is explicitly banning submissions for Elain with characters who are canonically known to be abusive to a romantic partner. Generally, the spirit of character weeks are to be ship neutral and importantly a concept that has emerged from prior fandom morality policing debate is the term Ship and Let Ship. Which means just because something isn't YOUR ship doesn't mean you need to come up for reasons why it isn't CORRECT to ship.

So, you think it's morally incorrect and triggering for people to see Elain paired with an abuser or a "bad guy"? That is okay for your own personal beliefs but if you start making rules around it for something that is supposed to be inclusive where do you draw the line or what that means? How about pairing Elain with the guy who runs Night Court Abu Ghraib? A role that means he actually tortures people physically and mentally to the brink that they are forced to "confess" to crimes. Is that some how morally superior to another character who emotionally abused their partner and confined them to a house?

See. That didn't feel good. Now did it? Do you actually want to get into a discussion about which wrong is morally worse than the other? Especially when it concerns a character week that is supposed to be about positivity and people having fun because they love Elain and they love the different interactions she could potentially have with characters in fanon?

And that is the entire point. When it comes to fiction, we all will be seduced by characters who have done bad things. Things that will trigger people. But, and I mean this whole heartedly, no one else is responsible for your triggers but you. You are the only one who knows what you can and cannot handle. Your Mileage May Vary. Tumblr's tag filtering system is in part for this very reason because of how fandoms use tumblr.

When you have a fandom wide event space, generally it's a bad idea to start throwing up these judgmental rules around people's character interests and shipping habits. Of course, any event runner is entitled to do what they please. But you also have to expect those who are excluded or know people who will be excluded are going to have something to say about it.

I really think the entire ACOTAR fandom could benefit from getting curious for once and actually digging into the histories of fandom, fandom lore and vocabulary, and start learning from from fandom elders. If so, we'd all be able to navigate these situations with a shared language that recognizes that the primary goal of fandom is to have fun first. And everyone's fun is going to look different and each individual is responsible for deciding what their squicks and triggers are. And the whole point of a squick is to let someone know this thing bothers me personally but I understand if it doesn't bother you. That sort of back and forth empathy across each side is how fandoms don't burn down in flames and people don't feel shame about what they like in fiction.

Now any fandom event can make whatever rules they want. But what I already see is a bunch of people (e/riels) are now actually making posts about why others who ship Elain with Tamlin are morally inferior, disgusting, perverse, and bad people. But hear me out, someone can easily think and say the same thing about you and your ship and if that is the kind of environment you'd like to fuck around in, well, aren't we all the worse off for it.

#elain archeron #fandom wank #fandom discourse #tamlin acotar

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 1 year ago

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Unpredictable Part 3-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: AAAH, thank you for all the support on this. I didn't think it'd be a series but I can't stop writing.

Warnings: toxic parents, body shaming, eating disorders, alcohol abuse, and swearing

Words: 7.7k

Series Masterlist

“…and that’s how I knew that I was meant to do charity work,” the nasal redhead concluded.

That afternoon, the Si Chi house was packed with pledges in floral or puffy Selkie and Miss Selfridge sun dresses. A handful of servers circulated the foyer with trays of orange juice and mimosas. The combination of Prada Candy and Viktor Rolfe Flowerbomb made my head spin but I smiled through it as I nodded at different pledges’ stories. All of them were desperately trying to toe the line between interesting and bragging because one could never act too important for a potential house.

“That’s great news,” I glanced at her name tag, “Brenda since Si Chi regularly engages in philanthropic work.”

Brenda smiled widely, making the hot pink blush on her cheeks even more prominent. “I know, that’s why I’m so interested in joining this---your house.”

“Well, we are glad that you took the time to visit us. Would you excuse me?”

As I weaved my way through the foyer, I plucked a mimosa from a passing server and started sipping. Exactly five seconds passed until I was surrounded by a new crop of bright-eyed freshmen.

“Oh my gosh, are you Y/N Y/L/N?” a willowy brunette asked.

“Guilty, and you are?”

“She’s Justine,” a shorter brunette interrupted.

Justine narrowed her eyes and thinly covered the glare with a smile. “I can introduce myself, thanks, Renee.”

Renee shrunk a little in her oversized light blue sundress and I glanced at Justine.

“So, why are you interested in our house?” I asked.

Justine straightened up and smiled like a pageant girl. “Well, I’m perfectly aligned with all the values of Si Chi: Sisterhood, respect, and intelligence. I am all about women empowerment and I respect people from all backgrounds----I’m exposed to a bunch of different people as an actress, anyway.”

“What about intelligence?”

“Well, I think there’s many different kinds of intelligence and, as an actress, I’m emotionally intelligent to the point where I’m exhausted by everyone else’s energy.”

“She really has to prioritize self-care,” Renee added.

“It’s great that you’re aware of that for yourself.”

She had to be one of the least self-aware people I ever encountered and that was a difficult fete. However, her socials had decent numbers and she had been in a few Vought Plus movies, which would help her win Sydney and Lydia, the vice president, over. The next two years with her and her friend would be irritating.

A softer expression slipped across Justine’s face, and she took a step towards me. “I just want to say that I think it’s so brave that you’ve been participating in all the rush events despite your traumatic experience. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to see Luke,” she paused and placed a hand on her chest, “kill himself.”

Though it had been a week since, it still felt like a bomb rolled off Justine’s tongue when she said it. The wave of emotions that I experienced in that time was hard to describe; Shetty said that grief was a rollercoaster, and the influx of emotions was normal.

“As impossible as it may seem, one day you will come to accept what happened,” she’d advised. “You may experience more anxiety but, with your network, I am sure you will be able to cope.”

The network she referred to was strained at best and destroyed at worst. My “sisters” were as supportive as they could be: Alina gave me a Lush self-care kit, Sasha was not nearly as antagonizing as usual, Lydia gave me grief book recommendations, and Sydney let me pick what workout classes we attended. Emma and Cate were the only non-Si Chi people I spoke to since it was way too difficult to speak to the others.

Justine placed her hand on my shoulder. “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can count on me.”

“Thank you for the thought,” I replied, smiling tightly.

“You must be so grateful that Marie was there to stop him,” Renee quipped.

I sipped some more juice to keep the confusing feelings from bubbling up. Nothing could have prepared me for Marie and Andre being propped as the Guardians of Godolkin, which was arguably the dumbest name Vought could give them. The less I wanted to see them, the more I saw their promos and videos. It was horrible that the last time we spoke we had a fight but every time I saw her, I felt a weird wrench in my chest.

At the very least, Emma seemed happy for her.

Then, Coco Allen, a Si Chi junior, appeared from the crowd and squeezed between the freshmen. “There you are, Y/N, I have a crim freshman with a water manipulation ability who wants to pick your brain.”

“Sure. Will you excuse me?”

“Bye!” Renee called as Coco pulled me through the crowd.

When we got to the less populated living room, I exhaled a breath I did not know I was holding. Then, I turned to the beaming Coco.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome. You know I hate entitled freshmen,” Coco mused.

Coco was the only other black girl in Si Chi and happened to be the first one to talk to me when I visited the house last year. She was a little shorter than me with deep mahogany skin that always glowed. She always wore her waist-length jet-black hair in tight curls and accessorized solely with gold jewelry. That day, she wore a fitted white sundress with espadrilles.

“Were there this many last year?” I asked.

Coco shook her head. “But there are a few more black girls so it’s promising.”

“That’s great! I hope I can find them before the event’s over.”

“That would be great.” Coco eyed me. “So, how are you holding up?”

“I’m okay, the mimosas don’t hurt though.”

“They never do. You didn’t have to come today, you know, you could have taken more time, get out of here for a minute.”

I shook my head. “I needed this, it’s a nice distraction or, it has been. Besides, what would it look like if the secretary didn’t attend?”

Coco nodded slowly but I could tell that the gears in her head were turning too much for her to be convinced. “You’re already Sydney and Lydia’s favorite and they might have let it slide.”

I cocked my head at her and she immediately started chuckling half-heartedly.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. The hoops they make us jump through are ridiculous,” Coco reflected.

“It makes sense why you didn’t want to be an officer even though you’re poli sci,” I commented.

Coco grinned. “Hey, I’m making decent connections just by being in this house. This is just a steppingstone on my path to become the first black woman supe president.”

Even though the title was long, if anyone could do it, it was Coco. One time last year I sat in on one of her debates in class and she had a senior in tears and their debate partner ready to put their laser eyes to good use.

“Well, don’t forget little ole me when you’re a big shot,” I teased.

Coco frowned. “What do you mean ‘little’? You have done too much to talk like that.”

I shrugged. “Not that they’re not as important but my four-year plan is less impressive than yours.”

“Oh yeah, the plan where you basically end up a trophy wife? No shade but, I think you’d be way too bored in that role.”

“Hey, I would have a city contract too. Plus, it’s what I want and what I see for myself every time I look into the future. Every step I have taken up until this point puts me closer to that.”

My voice was much stronger than I thought it would be but Coco was always pushing me. Some days it was motivating and on others, it was infuriating.

“Like I said, I’m not trying to crush your dreams or your plan but is that really all you want for yourself? Especially thinking about all the good you’re already doing with your powers?” Coco questioned.

Her words plagued me for the rest of the event and bugged me when we gave our ratings of the pledges to Sydney and Lydia.

“Oh, and Y/N, don’t forget to send me that compilation with all the pledges’ socials,” Sydney requested as I was on my way out of the foyer.

“Of course, you’ll have it by the end of the day.”

Everything was much quieter underwater, except for my thoughts, but those were much clearer. Every time I thought about where I would be in five years, it was the same: smiling at a city event on the arm of some suit. I never saw the man’s face but I knew he had to be somewhat attractive. My eyes fluttered closed at the bottom of the pool and I focused on my future.

It was the same image, complete with flashing cameras and I was wearing a gorgeous rose pink Oscar de la Renta gown. My hair was piled on top of my head in Senegalese twists, and I was smiling widely. However, when I tried to look at whose arm I was on, it was like I could not turn my head. The harder I tried, the sorer the side of my neck got.

After a few more seconds of trying, I pushed myself up to the surface and sucked in the air. The sky was a mix of orange, purple, and blue. Sydney was blasting “My Head, My Heart”, which signaled that she was getting ready to go out with Eric Landon, the president of Sigma Kappa. It would be nice to be asked on a date, a proper one without the expectations of sex later.

My face warmed at the fact that I had never actually been asked out. People constantly told me how good looking I was but that did not translate into boys falling all over themselves for me. There were the occasional fun nights out but it would always end in that same venue. I didn’t think I asked for too much: flowers, good morning and good night texts, respect, intelligence, and ambition. Emma told me I watched too many movies once and while that could have been true, I also thought that it wasn’t too much to ask a guy to hold a door open.

It also did not help that Jordan was the last person I ever got close to being intimate with. I groaned at the thought and dove underwater, making my way to the other side of the pool.

An almost-kiss should mean absolutely nothing but I could not stop thinking about it, just like I could not stop thinking about how Jordan would throw me under the bus to save themselves. I would never do that to anyone, especially not someone I cared about.

But you already did, the voice in my head hissed.

Marie didn’t count, I didn’t mean to do that; Andre, Luke, Cate, and Jordan decided for me. I would have stayed if it was my choice but that didn’t matter to Marie or any of them.

I pushed myself from the side of the pool and butterfly stroked my way to the other side. Thankfully, the water was heated and soothed my aching muscles. As I was about to resurface, I noted a blurry tall blonde figure standing above me. When I pushed up, Cate stood over me, her eyes worried.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“Hi, can we talk?”

“Sure.”

A few seconds later, I was wrapped in a fluffy towel and standing across from Cate. Her eyes shifted around for a moment before she suggested we headed inside. When we got to my room, she immediately closed the door behind us.

“Is there any way someone would have listening devices in here?” Cate asked.

“No,” I said slowly.

“Are you sure? There’s shit out now where they put it in the tiniest crevices and you would never know,” Cate argued.

“I would have seen it or had a hint about it. What’s going on?”

Cate finally sat on my bed, and I opted to stand across from her. “Andre and I found some stuff that makes Luke and Brink’s deaths way more complicated.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing, they totally cleared out his room the day after he died and I mean everything.”

My eyes widened. “Even the…special drawer?”

“Yes, and at first, I thought it was protocol but what would they do with all those----”

“I get it, Cate, what else did you and Andre find?”

As Cate continued to speak, I could feel my stomach sink further and further, until I was sure it was somewhere in the house basement. Nothing Cate said meant anything positive for anyone. If there was some kind of lab under us, that meant anyone could become a part of it.

“Have you told anyone else?” I asked.

Cate huffed and leaned back on my bed. “Well, Jordan’s been spiraling about Marie and the rankings, so I can’t get a word in about anything else.”

“They’re spiraling?” I asked.

“You haven’t talked to them since Luke died?” Cate asked.

When she said it like that, it sounded like I committed a cardinal sin. After that day, there was nothing else for me to say to them. Even though I saw them in class occasionally, I never spoke to them and desperately tried to avoid eye contact.

“They could have reached out too,” I muttered.

“You’re such a younger sibling,” Cate commented.

“It’s true!” I whined.

“Well, they’ve been freaking out about the rankings since they fell down to number five and Andre’s number one.”

Being in the Top Five was like Jordan’s lifeline. They’d always shared a friendly rivalry with Luke but I knew they wanted to be number one eventually. They spent almost all their time making sure they stayed in a high position and to drop to bottom of the Top Five must have been devastating.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

“Yeah, and your new best friend cracked the Top 100 and is Jordan’s new nemesis,” Cate added.

I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a chocolate brown loungewear set. “Neither of them are my friends.”

Cate frowned. “Seriously, what is going on with you? The other night, you and Marie were inseparable, and you and Jordan were bantering. What happened?”

It must have been the fact that I was holding all my thoughts and feelings in because I burst.

“Marie and I can’t be friends since she thinks I’m a shallow bitch who would sacrifice her to save myself because I hang out with people who do. The funny part is that Jordan admitted they would backstab me if they could get ahead, which is definitely not something I would do to a friend or anyone I almost kissed!”

I was panting by the end and my chest felt a lot lighter. However, my nerves began to build when I noticed Cate’s mischievous grin.

“Who did you almost kiss?” Cate asked.

“That’s not the point,” I mumbled.

Cate stared at me for a second before lighting up. “It was Jordan, wasn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You hesitated which means I’m right. It could have easily been Marie though since you were all over her.”

“Why do people keep saying that? I was being nice!”

Cate held up her hands in a relaxed defense. “Chill, Y/N, it’s okay to like more than one person at once.”

“I don’t like either of them.”

“At all?” Cate quirked an eyebrow.

“No,” I pouted.

Cate looked unimpressed and I felt even more unimpressed since I knew that I liked Marie and Jordan platonically.

“Okay, we’ll save that for later but, I don’t think Jordan would tell you that they would backstab you and they would not think about it. They would do it to other people, but not you.”

“You’re just saying that because they’re your friend and you weren’t there.”

Cate cocked her head to the side. “Think, Y/N, did Jordan really say, ‘I would backstab you if it would save my ass’?”

As I recalled the memory, I slowly rocked back and forth on my heels. “They didn’t say that but, they didn’t answer me when I asked if they would.” “You probably caught them off guard,” Cate reasoned. “I’m sure if you talked to them, things would go okay.”

I hesitated and set my clothes on my bed. “Let’s say that I decided to speak to them, I don’t know what to say. Even if I did, my class tomorrow isn’t with them.

“You’re not going to the Think Brink gala tomorrow night?” Cate asked.

Earlier that day, Mom mentioned something about a gala on the phone but I was only half-listening. In my defense, there was only so much complaining about her clients and Dad that I could stand. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and “Go to Brink gala” was in bright letters on my calendar.

“I guess I am,” I concluded.

“Then, you have some time to figure it out. You might get lucky and not even have to say anything.” I nodded and messed with the charm on my phone. “But what about Marie?”

“You’ll figure that out too. Indira’s taking her to the gala so, you can get both your ‘friends’ back,” Cate said, putting “friends” in air quotes.

“Why did you do it like that? Don’t say it like that.”

“Just because you’re in denial doesn’t mean I am. Think about it, would you be this freaked out if we had a fight?”

The “yes” should have come immediately but it didn’t; it died in my throat, and I couldn’t look at Cate. Why were things different with Marie and Jordan? Why did I stress out about them when I tried to stop thinking about them?

“Can you just make me say the right thing?” I asked.

Cate mulled it over for a moment. “I think it’s best if you do it yourself. If you don’t have a vision about it, something will come to you.”

“Thanks, Cate. If you and Andre need any help snooping----”

“You will be the first person I text,” Cate assured.

“I was going to say that I’ll probably know before you.”

I narrowly avoided the pillow Cate tossed at me and laughed at her effort.

“Maybe you are getting a little too cocky, Y/N.” She stood and walked over to me. “And for the record, I would never betray you in any way, neither would Andre or Jordan. If either of them did, they would have to deal with me.”

“Thanks, I would hug you but I’m still soaking wet.”

“Yeah, that’s smart. I know this might be useless but try not to worry about everything.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

“You’re taking the meds from Indira?”

“Yes, Mom,” I teased.

“Just trying to help.”

Strangely, that was the first night since Luke’s death that I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The trend was that I would strain myself to have premonitions until I was exhausted and tried again in the morning. For once, sleep found me quickly.

After sitting through a two-hour lecture on trauma’s impact on villains and heroes, I was more than happy to wander back to the Si Chi house and decompress. In a few hours, Talia, Mom’s assistant, would arrive with options for the gala. Then, the glam team would arrive and do their best to ignore Mom while they did their jobs.

I needed all the relaxation I could get.

As I was mentally reviewing which movies I could watch, my phone kept buzzing in my back pocket. I thought it was another flurry of comments on the TikTok Coco and I made yesterday but it was from a strange number.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Y/N, pls come 2 my dorm, it’s an emergency.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Im srry we haven’t talked in a while but it’s important.

I frowned and typed back, ????

XXX-XXX-XXXX: It’s Marie. Emma’s in trouble.

My stomach dropped and I replied, B there soon.

As I raced around other people on campus, my thoughts moved faster at the possibility of what could have been going on with Emma. The last time I had spoken to her was two days ago and she was okay then. If anything, she may have been tense because Marie and I were not speaking but she had not said anything else.

I was halfway to their dorm when I ran into something solid.

“Watch where you’re going, Y/N,” Maverick sneered.

“If you put on some clothes, maybe I’d see you,” I shot back as I continued down the hall.

When I finally got to their dorm, I was panting and could barely knock. Marie pulled the door open, pulled me in, and closed the door behind me.

“Did you sprint here?” she asked.

I nodded. “You said…it was…an….emergency…Emma.”

In the middle of me grabbing my bearings, I noticed something tiny next to one of the supports on Emma’s bed. Slowly, I slid to my knees and crawled over to it. When I realized who it was, a choked gasp escaped my mouth.

“What happened?” I whispered.

“I don’t know. She was like that when I got here and I didn’t know what to do so I called you since you’ve known her the longest,” Marie rambled.

Her words barely registered in my brain as I went to one of Emma’s drawers, grabbed a small set of clothes, wrapped her in it, and carefully set her on her bed. Emma was barely breathing and was ghostly pale.

“Emma, I know you’re probably not going to like this but, you’re going to need to eat something.”

She didn’t reply and for a second, I wondered if she could.

I started rifling through all her stuff until I found a box of crackers. My hands trembled as I broke them into small pieces and kneeled in front of Emma. She never looked at me as she nibbled on each crumb I fed her.

Eventually, she grew back to her normal size. As soon as she was, she pulled her knees to her chest.

“I’m sorry you saw me like that,” she muttered.

Slowly, I sat next to her and it was almost the same way zookeepers treated wild animals. If one moved calmly enough, they would not get attacked. Marie sat on her bed.

“It’s okay, I’m glad we were able to help,” I replied. “What happened?”

Emma sniffed. “I opened up to this girl in my class. We’re scene partners for a project and we were talking, and I guess I felt comfortable enough to tell her about how I get small. I thought it was just between us, but she posted this…this video on YouTube telling the whole world about it.”

“Who’s the girl?” Marie asked.

“How do you get small?” I uttered at the same time.

Emma froze for a moment and looked away from me. “I make myself…sick.”

When she said it, I suddenly remembered all those times she would go to the bathroom and then come out a miniature version of herself. However, all those times, it was for different commercials or other work-related events. Then again, there had to be times when she did it at home or at my house.

How did I never notice? “Emma, I’m so sorry. I wish you would’ve told me sooner,” I said.

Emma turned to me with a glare in her eyes. “Really? How would I work that into a conversation? ‘Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry to interrupt but, I make myself throw up to get small’?”.

“We’re friends, friends tell each other this kind of thing,” I insisted.

Emma scoffed. “Please, like you would get it if I told you. You’re perfect, you always have been. Your face, your hair, your body, your eyes, your life!”

“That’s not fair.”

“Emma, I think you need to get help,” Marie interrupted.

Emma’s gaze flickered to hers and I thought she might set Marie on fire. “I need to get help, that’s rich coming from you. You act like no one can see your scars.”

Marie flinched and her eyes narrowed slightly. “I do that for my powers, that’s different.”

Emma laughed callously. “Please, at least be honest. How about this: I’ll go to therapy when you admit to cutting.”

Emma’s voice had no tone and every word she said was like a hammer slamming into my chest. She wasn’t in the right headspace for any conversation and I kept reminding myself as I stood.

“We should talk later when we’ve all calmed down,” I suggested.

“I don’t want to speak to either of you again,” she hissed.

It took more effort than usual to swallow the lump in my throat as I let myself out of their dorm. Just as I was about to lean against the door and wallow, Marie slipped out behind me and shut the door. I took a step back, barely avoiding a pair of girls rushing past.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

“It’s fine.”

Silence filled the space for a moment, and I had no idea how to fill it. Cate said I would know what to say but I was at a loss.

“I’m sorry about what I said…that day,” Marie delivered gently.

My eyes snapped up at her. “Oh.”

She sighed. “I was just angry, and I thought you were a part of it but, Emma kept saying that you would never do something like that. I just didn’t know how to reach out or say anything.”

I know the feeling.

“I accept your apology but I’m also sorry that no one came back for you. I guess it worked out, though?”

Marie sighed and leaned against her door. “Sort of. The perks are nice and I’m in crim now but I feel like everyone’s looking at me and expects something from me; almost like they’re waiting for me to fail.”

“Really? They had me convinced you’d be the black Starlight,” I teased.

Marie laughed half-heartedly. “I still want to be a hero, though, someone like her people can look up to.”

“Anyone in particular?”

Marie hesitated. “My little sister. We were both obsessed with heroes when we were younger, but I was the one who got Compound V. She always looked up to me and I want to be someone who would make her proud.”

“That’s a really admirable goal,” I complimented.

She smiled softly. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be my competition to be the black Starlight?”

My expression faltered and I looked down at my French acrylics. “No, I don’t think I have the showmanship you do. Besides, my goal isn’t to be in the Seven.”

“Really? What do you want to do?” Marie asked.

“So, I have this four year plan and if I follow the steps I am on to a T, I will graduate with a city contract and be engaged to an eligible supe.”

Usually, when I told someone my four year plan, my chest swelled and my shoulders rolled back unconsciously. This time, it felt like I was a toddler showing my mom a drawing I made in school.

“Is that it?” Marie asked.

“I know it’s more traditional and maybe even a little lame but, it’s what I want,” I maintained.

Marie nodded slowly.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I just imagined you doing something in, like, criminal AI or stopping criminals from re-offending.”

“Both are great, they’re just not me.”

“Which is fine,” Marie insisted.

She sounded a little too eager but I let it go as we started walking down the hallway.

“What should we do about Emma?” Marie asked.

“I’ve never seen her like that before but she’ll need time to cool off.”

“Sounds good, I just have nowhere to go until the gala tonight.”

“You could come to Si Chi for a bit. I can’t promise they won’t try to initiate you, though.”

Marie laughed. “Me, in a sorority?”

“Hey, we’re getting more black girls this year so you never know!”

“Whatever but, yeah, I’d like to hang out with you…at your house.”

Even though Marie rushed the last part, a smile quirked on the corners of my mouth. It would be nice to have a new friend over and it was even nicer that there was no more tension between us.

“You know, Emma never told us the name of that girl,” Marie pondered once we got outside.

“Oh, that’s easy.” I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I reached the right one.

Shelby answered on the first ring. “Y/N, hi!” “Hey, are you on your way to class?” I asked.

“Yeah, if I’m late one more time, Professor Elix is going to make me do an improv one-woman show!” she panted.

“Well, I don’t want to slow you down but, you have class with Emma Meyer, right?”

“Oh yeah, Intro to Stage, why?”

“Cool. She told me her stage partner has an incredible Insta aesthetic, but she never told me her name and I need new inspo.”

“Oh, that’s Justine. I don’t know her last name but I’m sure you’ll find her.”

“Thanks, Shelby. Have fun in class.”

“Thanks!”

I hung up and turned to Marie, whose eyebrows were raised. “What?”

“What was that voice?” Marie asked.

“It was my voice. Haven’t you heard of code-switching?”

“Fine. Did you get the name?”

“Yes, Justine and I’ve met her.”

“What? How?”

“She’s rushing Si Chi.” I couldn’t keep the devilish smile from working its way into my mouth.

“What does that look mean?” Marie asked.

“It means that there are many more perks to being in a top house besides living in it.”

For some reason, everyone thinks that white girls have a monopoly on passive aggression and relational aggression. That was not the case at all; black girls simply are more inclined towards active aggression but we’re capable of both. I proved as much during Brink’s gala.

The ballroom was packed with board members, trustees, alumni, and the wealthiest GOD U students, the latter being my target of interest. They were all easy to approach since I had met them at some function or another.

“Y/N,” Bianca Peterson gushed as she hugged me.

Her Gucci Guilty perfume tickled my nose and I willed myself not to sneeze as I politely pulled away from her. “Bianca, it’s been too long. I think the last time I saw you was at Beta Ro’s Brunch for Boy Scouts.”

Bianca nodded, light auburn curls bouncing around her sculpted features. “Yes, we bonded over jewelry.”

“And you still have fantastic taste,” I mentioned, gesturing to the gold buckle around her wrist.

“Thank you, it was a present from Theo but I gave him a few hints,” she bragged lightly.

“How is rush going?” I asked.

“Pretty well, our pledges are shaping up nicely this year, not that they don’t every year,” she quickly added the last part.

“Of course. Do you have a lot of girls from Counting?”

“We’re interested in a couple, why? Are you trying to poach?”

I shook my head. “Not at all, I just wasn’t sure if you heard what Layla from Zeta Nu discovered.”

Bianca raised a microbladed brow. “No, I don’t think I have.”

I took a deep inhale and slowly shook my head in disbelief. “Oh, well, I should let it come from her then.”

A moment later, Bianca glanced across the room at Layla Ruthers, the president of Zeta Nu, who was smiling politely at a pair of hunched-over old men.

“In case I don’t have a chance to talk to her, what happened?” Bianca asked.

I glanced around us for a moment before leaning closer. “Apparently, a freshman posted a video about another girl’s eating disorder.”

“Really?” Bianca’s eyes widened.

I nodded. “Layla was insulted for the other girl and banned the pledge from rushing Zeta Nu. She even said that no respectable house would accept someone so low-class.”

“Oh,” Bianca uttered.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take up all your time. I should go mingle.”

I made it about two steps before Bianca gently grabbed one of my arms.

“Wait, Y/N. Did Layla say the name of the pledge?”

My eyes wandered around the twinkling lights of the room for a second. “Justine something, I think.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“Sure!”

The rest of my conversations followed that pattern. Each girl I spoke to was shocked and horrified by my words. Plus, none of them would dare speak to the other; that would mean another house had better information than them. My final target was easily the most important one: Sydney.

In her ice-blue mermaid dress and intricate updo, she looked more like Cinderella than a gala attendee. She was standing at a table, nodding her head at something a shorter guy was saying.

“Excuse me,” I politely interrupted, “I need to borrow Sydney for a second.”

The guy deflated slightly. “Sure.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Sydney huffed a sigh of relief as soon as we were out of earshot. “Thank you, I don’t know what he was even talking about.”

“Anytime,” I replied.

She snatched a champagne flute from a passing server and downed half of it. “I can’t wait for this night to be over.”

I nodded. “It is morbid despite their attempt to dress it up.”

“Yeah, and my parents won’t stop bugging me about my future. I can only apply to so many internships and not everyone is looking for a telekinetic,” she griped. “Sorry, how are you?”

“I’m alright. Ironically, I think he’d hate the name they picked but I didn’t know him super well,” I admitted.

“Right.”

Here it goes.

“So, I think the event the other day was a success,” I commented.

“Definitely. The house was packed. It’s too bad we can’t accept them all.”

Sydney smiled as she spoke.

“I know. It’s great that there’s so much interest.” I paused for a second. “But, I wanted to tell you that something came up with one of the pledges.”

Sydney gestured for me to continue.

“Even though my social media deep dive on the pledges was thorough, something came up today that I thought you should know when considering the pledges,” I explained.

“Okay.”

“Today, Justine posted a video exposing another girl’s eating disorder. Several of the girls were upset when they saw it.”

“That’s awful,” Sydney responded.

“It’s also so disappointing since I met Justine during that event, and she was saying how women empowerment is important to her. I know that women empowerment is a huge passion for you and a foundation for Si Chi and to imagine a pledge so willing to tear down another woman infiltrating the safe space you building is horrifying.”

Despite the liquor, I could tell Sydney was processing my words quicker than any computer. Her expression shifted from shock to anger to coldness. Then, she finished the last of her champagne and set it on the table closest to us. “Thank you for telling me, Y/N. I’ll see you later.”

As she walked away, I grinned widely at the response. Bid Day was going to be even more fun and interesting than last year. To celebrate, I grabbed myself a flute of champagne and sipped it as I started to wander the room.

“Y/N!”

My body froze at the masculine voice and my mind raced with what to say or do. Finally, I decided to face Jordan. They were in their masculine form and standing at a table by themselves. Though they looked fantastic in their navy suit, they looked like they hadn’t slept in days.

“Hello.”

I practically sang it and prayed for someone to make the floor swallow me.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“Um, sure.” I walked closer to their table and rested my forearms on it.

“It’s good to see you,” he started. “Outside of class, I mean.”

“You too.”

Jordan nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s good.” He paused. “I’m sorry about everything.”

I looked up from tapping my nails on the tablecloth. “Wh---”

“Please, let me finish. That day…I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you that I wouldn’t throw you under the bus but I wouldn’t even think about it. How could I do that to my little freshman?”

For the first time ever, my chest warmed at the nickname. However, I tried to bite back the smile that was worming its way onto my face.

I glanced away for a moment, crossing my arms over my purple sleeveless satin gown. “Well, I guess I forgive you,” I playfully grumbled before turning back to him. “But you still did it pretty easily to Marie.”

Jordan’s expression faltered and he sipped some champagne. “Don’t mention her.”

“Why not? She’s my friend and we did a very mean thing,” I argued.

“Look, I protected myself and you that night, I won’t apologize for that. Besides, she’s still here and she’s doing great,” he spat.

“I know you’re pissed about the rankings but, those can change, especially with how hard you work and how powerful you are.”

Jordan scoffed. “That’s how it should work but no one wants to back a bigender Asian.”

His words made me stop for a second. In all the time I knew them, Jordan seemed invincible to punches, laser beams, electric shocks, and words. They made succeeding at Godolkin look so easy but it must have been anything but. Plus, Luke and Brink’s death must have impacted everything else.

“We’ll see about that,” I challenged. “There’s about thirty trustees and every board member in this room. There will have to be a few who will like you.”

Jordan hesitated. “I’m not really in the mood to promote myself.”

“Then let me talk,” I offered.

He eyed me for a while before crossing over to my side of the table and looping one of his arms with mine. “Don’t make me look bad, freshie.”

“I think that’s impossible.”

The first target was easy: a thirtysomething white guy with floppy light brown hair and an oversized gray suit. I focused on him for a moment, gathering as much information as I could.

“Trevor Emerson, GOD U alum and old money beneficiary,” I muttered to Jordan.

“Isn’t he supposed to hate me?” Jordan hissed back.

“He’s overcome by white guilt since his recent discovery that all the black and brown people who built and managed his family’s manor were not salaried employees,” I explained. “He’s dying to look as much of an ally as possible.”

Jordan straightened up. “Good job, freshie.”

“I haven’t even gotten started.” I painted a polite smile on my face. “Mr. Emerson, it’s so nice to meet you, can we bother you for a moment?”

Two guilty and three haughty donors later, Jordan and I found ourselves at a different table. It was the first time that I saw him smile that night.

“You were amazing out there,” Jordan exclaimed.

“Thank you but you also made my job a little easier being talented and whatever,” I joked.

“Seriously.” Jordan grabbed my hand. “You might have saved my ass.”

I tried to ignore the tingle that shot up from my hand into the side of my neck. “It’s okay, I’m happy to help.”

When they announced that the video was about to start Jordan sulked again. “I can’t believe they’re making us sit through this shit.”

“Me neither.” I rest my hand on top of his. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner but, are you okay?”

Jordan laughed humorlessly. “No but schmoozing with you did help a little. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.”

When we parted our separate ways, I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress skirt and approached my table. Fortunately, Mom and Dad had not burned down the ballroom with their arguing. In fact, when I got to their table, Mom was on her phone and Dad was rhythmically tapping his fingers against the tablecloth, looking anywhere but her.

“Hi, were you bored with me gone?” I asked, giving Dad a side hug.

“Not at all. I met a few board members and sold a few pictures,” he responded.

I nodded and slowly took the middle seat between them. The video was equal parts patronizing and infuriating. However, my parents’ whispers kept me from focusing too much on the video.

“Y/M/N, can you get off the phone for one second? They’re playing the video,” Dad hissed.

“I am about to cut the biggest deal of this quarter. They can send it,” Mom hissed back, waving a manicured hand for emphasis.

“Mom, people are starting to stare,” I quietly interjected.

“Let them stare. This is what’s paying for you to be here.”

“Don’t act like I don’t contribute!” Their words used to make me flinch but I forced myself to sit up straighter and breathe.

“I’m grateful for it, for both of you, really. You both paid to be here and I thought you would not want to miss the man they’re honoring,” I whispered.

Those words made Mom slowly mutter something into the phone before placing it face down on the table and leaning forward. At that same time, they flashed a picture of Brink and me across the screen. He had been meeting with my small group when the photographer appeared.

Dad squeezed an arm around my shoulder and I softly leaned into his touch.

“Thank God you lost that baby fat,” Mom commented.

“Y/M/N,” Dad said quietly.

“You know it’s true, Y/D/N,” Mom hissed back.

Suddenly, Dad’s arm felt like a boa constrictor, and I gracefully slipped out of its grasp. When the video ended, I drank a fresh flute of champagne. The bubbles instantly went to my head as I giggled at Dean Shetty introducing Marie.

She looked really pretty even though she was nervous.

“Do you know her?” Mom asked over the applause.

“We’re friends,” I replied.

“So why is she a guardian and not you?”

“She was more involved in stopping Luke than me,” I lied.

When Dean Shetty cued everyone to return to socializing, Mom turned to me.

“Your grades are fantastic and your standing in your house is good,” Mom began. “But eligible bachelors will not notice you unless you stand out like her.”

“Y/M/N, leave her alone. Anyone who doesn’t notice Y/N isn’t worthy of being in our family anyway,” Dad defended.

Mom ignored him. “That girl, Marie Moreau, is not your friend, she is your competition. You are in the prime setting to have everything you’ve ever wanted but she could snatch it from you. You’re supposed to be able to see things like this coming, Y/N.”

“I do see things coming and I know Marie wouldn’t do that to me,” I quipped.

At that moment, Mom’s eyes bore so deep into me that I didn’t think that anyone could claw them out. Her eyes looked like they were going to bug out of her head at any moment and I could feel my breathing pick up.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out,” I promised.

It felt like forever until she leaned back in her seat and grabbed her phone.

“Make sure it doesn’t ‘slip out’ again. Now go socialize.”

“I need a minute, Mom, I’ve been socializing since we got here.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “This again.”

“What?”

“Y/M/N, please.”

“No, no, Y/D/N, she is constantly using, what, anxiety to get out of speaking to people. You are always too soft on her and make me look like the bad guy. I’m the one helping her be normal,” Mom snapped. “Anxiety didn’t exist when we were her age, we just did what we had to do, and look where we are now.”

I wondered if Emma ever felt as small as I did in that moment. Then, I wondered if she ever made herself small to hide from people, even her mom. Wordlessly, I left the table and tried to avoid any cameras as the tears burned in the corners of my eyes.

I tried to take deep breaths to calm my trembling chest and keep my throat busy. My chest shifted from trembling to heavy and I started looking around the room.

“I hear one piano…feel two fingers…smell three different alcohols…and see---”

“Y/N, are you okay?” Cate’s voice broke me out of my rhythm and I glanced to see her sitting with Marie and Jordan, who was in their feminine form.

My chest felt much lighter and I quickly wiped away my tears. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Jordan called gently.

Cate pulled me into a hug and had me sit between her and Marie. “What happened?”

“My parents, well, my mom mostly. I guess I got too anxious for her, and she yelled at me,” I rambled.

Cate smiled softly. “Then you came at the perfect time. We were just talking about our horrible parents.”

My ears perked up. “Really?”

“Well, mine are dead,” Marie commented.

I turned to her and placed my hands on top of hers. “What? I’m so sorry. How did it…”

“I accidentally killed them with my powers,” Marie explained.

“That must have been horrible.”

Marie barely nodded and I squeezed her hands. “I just told my little brother to go away during a camping trip. He never came back and my mom pretty much locked me away,” Cate confessed. “I was seven.”

“What?” I whispered.

“I killed my grandpa with my powers,” Jordan interjected.

We all turned to her and I cocked my head to the side.

“No, you didn’t,” Cate countered.

Jordan smiled. “You’re right, I was feeling left out.”

I didn’t think that I could laugh the way I did but it felt so nice. At least I had friends again.

When I started sipping on the whiskey Cate stole, I saw a brief image flash before my eyes. There was a guy with curly brown hair covered in dirt running away from several bloody bodies. He paused for a moment and opened his hand, revealing a tiny sleeping Emma. When the vision left, Andre was standing in front of us.

“Seriously?” I complained before he even spoke.

#black!reader #jordan li x reader #gen v x reader #limoreau x reader #marie moreau x reader

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