#radio silence lately has been 'cause I moved five states over

[aohendo]

Ended up having to completely skip a key conversation in Prince for Hire because it just. wasn’t. going. but hey, that’s what second drafts are for. On the bright-side, the scene directly after, between Iiriok and Kiris, is very nearly writing itself!

A snippet of the lighthearted stuff before their conversation takes a more serious turn:

“I mean—” Kiris tugged at his hair. Why was phrasing this so hard? “We didn’t--”

“I don’t mean to judge, Yphant,” Nelovskevouk said, “but this is really none of my business.”

“No!” Kiris pinched the bridge of his nose. “It isn’t what you think, I just can’t use my words right now because I’ve been up all night—”

“Good for you.”

“—and apparently Batar and I have a ‘wander the fortress’ time which is coincident and she decided to make tea and nothing happened, alright? Whatever you’re thinking, it was way more violent, distressing, and did not, in any way, shape, or form, involve anything like that. She had me pinned to the floor!”

“Admittedly,” Nelovskevouk said, slowly, “violent, distressing, and pinned to the floor is exactly what I was imagining.”

[honeybunnybeez]

HELLO! I was wondering if you do like paternal smp? If you do then I have this idea! It’s in the final control room in the first war. You’re erets child, when he pressed the button you realized your father just betrayed you and your friends-SOMETHING LIKE THAT! THANKS :D

"No other way" (ANGST) (PLATONIC)

♡Parent!Eret x Child!reader

♡Summary: You didn't know why your father wanted to keep you away from viewing the secret weapon he claim he had. What was so scary that he felt the need to ask you to leave thrice?

♡Gender Neutral Reader!

"(Y/n), love?"

"Yes?"

"It still isn't too late to turn back now," Eret reminds you once again as you 6 make your way through a narrow hallway where you father claims he's kept the secret weapon.

You let out a groan as you step down another step, frustrated and confused as to why he would ask that question for the 3rd time since you all left for this place.

"I've already told you I wanted to follow. Why ask if I would like to come only to ask if I would like to walk away now?" You didn't mean for it to sound rude, but you wanted to state your point. If a simple 'no, I want to keep going,' isn't clear enough for him he should at least explain why he keeps asking.

"I just, don't want you to get scared of what you'll see, that's all."

His reason didn't seem to sound all that complete and you didn't really like that. Before you could ask him to clarify, Tommy speaks up.

"Scared? After all the shit they've seen? A little weapon isn't going to scare them none, right (y/n)?"

Distracted by Tommy's subtle praise you forget about your question and choose to grin proudly at Tommy's words, "yeah, it isn't!"

Despite how he is, Tommy's always been one to tell you how brave and strong you are and how he knows that you'll grow up to be a complete badass, just like the rest of them. Despite his mean behavior, he's the most supportive of your growth out of everyone.

"Didn't you scream earlier when a bat flew over us?" Fundy adds causing the rest of them to laugh.

"Hey! In my defense those fuckers pop out of nowhere-"

"(Y/n), language. You're only 12," your father reprimands lightly, but you don't miss the smile in his voice.

"(Y/n), swear louder, make it echo!"

"Tommy, don't make (y/n) turn out to be a gremlin child like you," Wilbur scolds playfully.

"Excuse you, I am the perfect role model for them!"

You can't help but laugh and listen on with fondness as you hear them all start to bicker with one another.

You're little resistence group was far from perfect, but they were your best friends, your family. So of course you were hurt when your father kept asking if you wanted to stay back. You wanted to be there with them during every big moment, you didn't want to leave them behind.

"Eret, what is this?" You hear Tubbo ask.

Finally snapping out of your thoughts, you notice a little blackstone room at the end of the long hallway. There were chests sitting in them too, all with signs to show who they belonged too, and you even had your own!

"This is the final control room," your father explains, looking around.

"This is amazing," you say in awe. You look around to see the others having the same kind of reaction too.

You can't help yourself from opening the chest with your name on it. Upon opening it though, there wasn't anything in it. That was odd.

"There's nothing in the chest," Wilbur exclaims before you get the chance to. You turn to look at him and witness as Wilbur's face changes from confused to concern as he looks over at Tommy who checks out the button in the middle of the room.

"What does the button do?"

"Tommy-!"

Something can be heard clicking and opening and before you know it, four armed men appear seemingly out of nowhere to ambush and kill off your friends.

"WAIT, NO-!"

Before you can react and aid them in combat, your father knocks your sword out of your hands with his pickaxe, dragging you into another hidden room with him.

"Fuck, (Y/n)-!" You can hear Tommy's cries end quick as the sound of his body falling onto the floor quickly follows suit.

"You traitor!" You hear Wilbur scream out before he too meets the similar fate his friend has.

You scream for mercy through the blackstone wall, begging them not to hurt your friends but it's too late. You don't hear anymore screams or the sound of swords clashing with one another. It's all just radio silence and it happened far too quick for you to truly process that this is all real.

Something your father steps on opens the hidden blackstone door once again and he steps out of the room with a smirk and a salute.

"Down with the revolution boys!"

You don't how to react, all you can do is stare wide eyed at the four lifeless bodies of your friends slowly fading away from where they lay.

They cheer, the bastards you've been taught to hate cheer and your father is cheering alongside with them. The man who took you in when no one else would, the man you trusted with every fibre of your being, is celebrating with the enemy.

"It was never meant to be."

Hearing your father say that causes all the rage bubbling inside of you to burst and for the first time in a while, you let out an ear piercing scream that echoes through the room.

"HOW COULD YOU!?"

All five men turn to look at you, the bastards still have grins on their faces but your father's face made you feel the sickest. He had the audacity to look at you with such worry, such concern.

"(Y/n)-"

"THEY WERE OUR FRIENDS,FATHER!"

He tries to open his mouth to speak again but you don't give him the chance to, cutting him off before he could even get a letter in.

"AND EVEN IF THEY WEREN'T YOUR FRIENDS, THEY WERE MINE FOR FUCKS SAKE, THEY WERE LIKE FAMILY TO ME! THEY WERE MY FAMILY AND YOU BACKSTABBED THEM!"

You heart starts to ache further and the tears you were trying so hard to hold back fall with no end in sight. You start to wonder if they think you were part of this plan as well and if they hate your guts too. God, you hope that isn't the case, you don't think you could take it if they hated you when you still loved them back.

He tries to come closer, tries to hug you but you use all the strength you can muster to shove him away, and you do a pretty good job at moving him back and shocking him.

"Don't touch me!" You cry out, wiping away the tears that blur your vision. "Don't ever touch me again, you fucking traitor!"

A chuckle can be heard coming from behind your father as you scream at him.

"Well, looks like someone has a tantrum on their hands," the joke Dream gives causes the other three members of his group to laugh and you can't help but grit your teeth and clench your fist as you struggle not to argue back or stab him right through his ugly mask.

"(Y/n), please, listen to me," he pleads, but your head is starting spin from the stress and you're trying to block out any and all sounds in the room. Begging any higher power above that this is just a nightmare. A scary nightmare that you'll soon wake up from with Tommy and Tubbo sleeping close by just as half haphazardly as you are.

"Why?" You whimper out before you can stop yourself. "Why did you do this."

You can't help but take a few steps back as he walks over to you and kneels down to your level. It hurts your father's heart to no end to see you terrified of him, acting like a skittish stray kitten from a village. He starts to doubt his actions for a moment when he sees how frantic you are, but a ringing promise in his head is what reminds him of why he did what he did.

"I did it so we would be safe. So that you could be safe," his voice is barely above a whisper as he says so, like he doesn't want anyone else to hear. Dream gives a quick glance, like he knows something, but he doesn't comment, choosing instead to continue talking the the others.

You shake your head, refusing to accept his bullshit answer, "There could've been another way, you didn't have to do this-!"

He tried to find other ways, he swears, but Dream knew too much and held too much power against him, against everyone. He could take everything away from him, he could take you away from him and he couldn't have that. Sure he now had a target on his head with the resistance, but it's better than having Dream target both him and you. He doesn't tell you all of this though, not yet, it isn't the right time to.

"(Y/n)," your father tries once again to hold you and this time you can't find any power left within you to shove him off again. So you let him hug you, but your arms remain firmly planted to your side, fighting the urge to hug him back for comfort.

"Trust me, there truly was no other way..."

A/N: DID SOMEONE CALL THE ANGST DOCTOR? :D Ah, lord, I had a little too much fun with this but I may have gone out of topic and ooc so I'm very sorry if I did! I've read the parental smp stories before and I adore them to absolute bits so I may have squealed when I got this ask. Thank you anon for the request and I hope you all enjoyed it as well!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

[gubler-me-up]

Missing in Action

Request: Can you write a fanfic where Hotch's daughter gets kidnapped and Hotch and his team have to find her?

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! This is my first Hotch request and I usually don’t write for Hotch but everyone needs a lil challenge here and there right? I’ve decided to make this a two parter because I love suspense and since they asked for a fanfiction imma give them a fanfiction. Hey, it might even be three parts who knows? Hopefully y’all enjoy it, I’ve watched a lot of The FBI Files lately so I’m adding a ~sprinkle~ of that in here as well. I was very nervous while writing this but hopefully it’s decent 😬 p.s. I put y/n still so you can insert yourself as Hotch’s daughter if you’d like or create a name whatever floats your boat

Category: Angst

Content warning: Kidnapping, mention of violence, crime scene, blood

Word count: 2.5k

————-

Hotch packed up his briefcase for the day. He had promised his daughter he would pick her up from soccer practice. He had also promised her and Jack they would go out for dinner since they hadn’t done so in months. He had instructed Jack to meet his older sister at the soccer field after his school book club meeting was over.

He looked at the time on his watch and saw it was quarter to six. The two of them were probably already ridiculing him because of his tardiness. He checked his phone to see if she had texted him complaining yet. There was no notification which caused him to raise an eyebrow. Y/N was usually very vocal about her dad being late when he was the one always telling them about being punctual.

To his surprise his phone started to ring. For an instant, he thought it could have been Y/N calling him but the caller ID said Unknown Caller. He hesitantly answered it, anxious to know who would be on the other line. Before he could even greet the other person on the line, he heard Jack’s voice yelling in a panic.

“Jack, buddy, slow down. What do you mean your sister was taken?” Hotch asked.

The next few words Jack told him sounded unreal to him. His mind couldn’t process even the slightest possibility of Jack’s story to be true. Jack had seen a black car pull up at the corner of the sidewalk where his sister was standing waiting for him. He was just a block away when he saw a man jump out of the backseat and grab Y/N. He shoved her in the back and then the driver sped off.

“Jack, where are you right now? You’re at school? Okay, stay there for now. The police are at the scene right now? Okay, okay, I’ll be there soon. Bye.”

He hung up the phone and for once didn’t know where to begin. His mind was racing in overtime trying to think of who it possibly could be, if Y/N was okay and how long he had to find her. He ran out of his office to go towards the bullpen. He watched as everyone stared at him in confusion as he tried to form the right words to tell them.

Everyone had already packed up for the day and were almost on their way out by the time Hotch came to them. The look on his face was one they hadn’t seen since Haley’s death. They anticipated the worst to words to leave Hotch’s mouth.

“Y/N was kidnapped. We have to act now.”

Every single team member’s face filled with dread as they realized how little time they had to find Y/N safe. With no other words exchanged between anyone they made their way to the briefing room. Hotch let everyone walk in front of him as he still tried his best to comprehend the whole situation.

He felt someone gently touch his shoulder. He turned around to see Rossi looking at him with his famous look of determination. It was visible to him Hotch was in a place of discouragement that he had to break out of if he wanted to get his daughter.

“We’ll find her, Aaron,” Rossi said.

“We realistically only have two and a half hours before the possibility of finding her alive becomes slim. We have to make a move on these sons of bitches now,” Hotch said.

Rossi nodded. “Let’s do it.”

They made their way into the briefing room as soon as Garcia pulled up phone records from Y/N phone. Hotch sat down as he analyzed the screen in silence, checking every phone number to see if there was one out of place. His eyebrow raised as he saw a number he didn’t recognize and it only showed up once in her call log. She had ignored the call and according to the time the call was made she was taken about five minutes after.

“Garcia, can you check if the last number on her call log is anywhere else in her call or text history?” Hotch asked.

“Of course, sir,” she said before searching for the number.

She pulled up a text message sent to Y/N. It was an attachment. It was sent recently which confused everyone considering they already had her in their grips. Garcia went ahead and opened the attachment to reveal the picture. It was a letter addressed to Hotch.

Aaron Hotchner,

Expect a call from us around 7 p.m. You have my word your daughter will be safe until then. It’s up to you to agree or disagree with our demands which will ultimately determine her fate.

“Garcia, can you trace the number?” Hotch asked.

“It’s a burner number from an app. It’s out of service now, but I will trace Y/N’s location on her phone,” she said.

“We have about half an hour to go over possible suspects who could be responsible for this,” Morgan said.

“It seems personal, so it’s more than likely that Hotch and the perpetrator have come into contact. It seems especially personal since they want to call Hotch to tell him what they want from him instead of detailing it in the ransom letter,” Reid said.

“It seems whoever wrote the letter is the leader since he says ‘we’ and ‘our’ but only says ‘my’ when referring to keeping his word of keeping Y/N safe,” JJ said.

“Jack said there were two men who had abducted her but it’s less than likely the leader of the group would be one of the two doing the kidnapping. For now, we know there are three suspects but there could be more. Morgan, Prentiss and Reid will go to the kidnapping scene while the rest of us wait here for the call to come. Please bring Jack here when you’re done at the scene. He’s at school waiting to be picked up,” Hotch ordered.

Morgan, Reid and Prentiss nodded as they got up from their seats. They left the room in urgency as the time was slowly ticking away on Y/N. Hotch didn’t take his eyes off the screen as Garcia did her best to search for the phone. JJ and Rossi looked at him as they tried to remain calm for him. They knew as soon as Hotch found out he had his daughter it would send him over the edge. They wanted to avoid a possible repeat of the Foyet situation.

A map popped up on the screen with a red dot pinging on the location of Y/N’s phone. It was pinging in a lake not too far from the area Y/N. was last seen. Garcia touched her throat as she felt it run dry as she thought of the worst. She looked over to Hotch who was already looking in her direction. He looked calm and collected enough for the whole room.

“Don’t worry, Garcia. She’s still alive, they just dumped her phone, so we can’t trace them. Don’t give in to their fear tactics,” Hotch said.

Garcia took a jagged breath. “Of course, sir.”

“JJ, call Prentiss to inform them to go by the lake just off highway 66. Let’s pull up the street footage to see if the camera’s caught the getaway car.”

————

“Agents.”

Morgan, Reid and Prentiss looked over at where the voice had come from. They saw detective Broderick of the Arlington police department walking towards them. Morgan and Prentiss held their hands out to greet him with a handshake while Reid waved. He walked them over to the area where Y/N was taken from.

The area was riddled with pylons to identify every piece of evidence. They saw there was a trail of shattered glass on the road. Morgan went over to look at the pieces. He took out a pair of latex gloves from his pocket to put on. He picked up a shard to examine it.

“We sent samples of the glass to the FBI forensics lab in D.C., so hopefully we can determine the make of the car that way,” detective Broderick said.

“Our tech analyst is looking through street camera footage to see if the car was caught driving through this area. Y/N must have kicked out the backseat window, so someone could see her. Dangerous move, but helpful,” Morgan said.

“We should also get some of your officers down to the lake off highway 66. Y/N’s phone’s there but there could be other evidence there as well,” Prentiss instructed.

“You got it. You think they’re going towards the D.C. area? Should I send units out that way?” He asked.

“Not exactly. They could have just dumped her phone there and other items to throw us off. They’re most likely still in state because they still have to call Hotch. Whatever exchange that needs to take place has to take place nearby,” Reid said.

“Makes sense. I’ll send some cops down to that area for you.”

As detective Broderick radioed in for police officers to the location of where Y/N’s phone was, Reid noticed something on a piece of glass. He took out his latex gloves to put on before crouching next to the shard. He picked it up and saw what appeared to be blood. Then he noticed another shard with more of the red substance on it.

He called over an officer to give him an evidence collection bag. The officer handed over a bag to him. Spencer put both shards into the bag. As he tried to look for any more shards on the ground that could potentially be evidence, he saw Prentiss walk into his sight. She crouched down close to him but she looked at a completely different area of glass shards.

“I think that might be a partial print,” she said.

“Where?” Reid asked.

She pointed at a shard in front of her. She carefully picked it up to show Reid in the reflection of the dim sunlight a possible partial print. Reid nodded his head in agreement to the fact that it could be a partial print.

“Let’s get this to the lab along with the other shards in this specific area. Maybe we can find another shard with the rest of the fingerprint or even a palm print somewhere.”

———

Hotch, JJ, Rossi and Garcia waited around the round table for the call to come through. They were informed of the evidence being processed at the FBI forensics lab in D.C. for clear identification. They had also been informed that the area where Y/N’s phone was found also had her soccer bag tossed into the river as well. They were still actively combing the area for any further evidence.

Garcia managed to identify the car as a black 2002 Mercedes Benz C Class sedan. The license plates weren’t visible on camera due to the angles they were taken. She didn’t have any success finding that type of car registered to anyone in the Arlington area who had been near the abduction site.

All the information Hotch was receiving was sticking in his mind and he continuously thought of who could be behind his daughter’s kidnapping. He would have honestly rather they have shot him and spare her of any trauma. He swore he would never let anyone harm his family again and it seemed as if no matter what he did nothing protected his family from the demons of his job.

The clock struck 7 p.m. and his eyes darted to his phone on the table. Everyone else’s eyes also followed his gaze. They were anxiously waiting for the call too. They wanted to find Y/N in one piece just as much Hotch did but they couldn’t even fathom the agony he was in being helpless in this situation. His daughter’s fate laid in one phone call.

JJ jerked in her seat as she felt her phone vibrate. Her anxiety towards the situation was heavy for her that it almost felt as if she was in his seat. Her heart still pounded as she looked at her phone even though she knew it was probably only a text from Prentiss updating her about the situation. Which she was correct about but her heart still pounded and her hands still shook from the sudden vibration of her phone.

“They found a tire track, so they’re going to run that by the lab as well,” she said.

Hotch’s phone rang. The sound of everybody in the room taking a deep breath was the only sound next to Garcia typing away as she got ready to track the call. Hotch calmly picked up the phone even as the burning rage inside of him tried its best to come out. He had to resist any hostility during the call at all cost.

“Hotchner,” Hotch said.

“Aaron Hotchner. Glad you picked up,” the distorted voice said.

“What do you want for the safe return of my daughter?” He asked.

“Is this the same guy who doesn’t make deal with people like me? Isn’t that what you said when George Foyet wanted to cut a deal with you? Why the sudden change in song?” The voice asked.

“And look how that turned out,” he said.

“I wouldn’t harm your daughter but if you try to find me as I know your team already is I’ll have no choice to.”

“Tell me what you want and we’ll stop hunting you.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes.”

“I need $500,000 dropped off at 3600 17th street north by 9 p.m. and your daughter will be returned safely to you. She will be in the forest nearby waiting for you. If you deviate from this plan I will not hesitate to inform my partner to shoot her. Are we clear, Aaron?”

“Yes.”

“Do you not want to hear your daughter? It’s chilling knowing you don’t want to know for sure if she’s alive or not.”

“I know she’s alive. You can’t fool me with your fake confidence. You and I know you’re going to keep me playing this count and mouse game until 9 p.m. when you realize you messed with the wrong person.”

“Charming, Aaron. We’ll chat later.”

They hung up without another word exchanged. Hotch looked over at Garcia but she slowly shook her head in defeat with tears gradually forming in her eyes. She wasn’t able to ping a signal to the call.

“I think they’re blocking the signal because I can’t find a tower they’re boun-”

“That’s okay. I have a feeling I know who it is,” Hotch said.

Everyone raised a curious eyebrow to what Hotch had revealed. Though the conversation was short and mainly to the point, Hotch had listened out for a few key aspects. The most telling aspect he noticed made him confident in knowing who it was.

“You know them?” JJ asked.

“Yes. I know from the way they said, “charming, Aaron,” Hotch explained.

“Okay, so who’s the guy?” Rossi asked.

“It’s not a guy. It’s a woman.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 ​ @laneybobeczko-g​ @littlewierdalien @cynbx

[lokis-army-77]

If You Please

Chapter twelve

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2588

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: none

Note: Normally I am the type of person to be date accurate when writing things and if you are too, I'm sorry. I messed up on the dates, so the battle of New York happens like a month after it should. This is also a short chapter because it's a filler and I'm trying to just get to the Winter Soldier but have everything make sense.

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Masterlist

A few days later I had received a small archivist job in the WWII department of the Smithsonian. Thankfully the made-up resume and a few fake SHIELD recommendations came in handy. I would officially start the following week after a few background checks were cleared. In my free time until then, I unpacked all the boxes in my apartment. It started to feel more homely and warm when all of my things filled up the space. When I didn’t feel like unpacking anything, I started taking long walks to the VFW building. I hadn’t joined in on any of the meetings yet, I just stood by the doorway and watched, listening to the stories people told.

One day that week as I stood back in the hallway after the meeting had ended, a man came up to me. He was a little taller than I was and had the brightest smile I had ever seen. I had watched him in the meetings before, he was usually the one hosting them, giving advice to all who needed it.

“I’ve seen you standing out here for the past three days, why don’t you come have a seat next time? It would be more comfortable than standing out here for an hour.” He said as he leaned his back against the wall right next to me.

“I have thought about it, but I tend to get here after you have started. I don’t want to interrupt anything by just barging in.” I said over my shoulder at him.

“You won't interrupt anything, just come on in next time, we’d be happy to have a new face around,” He pushed himself off the wall and walked down the hall.

After that, I ended up joining the meetings and even spoke a few times. I learned that the man who came up to me that day was Sam Wilson, pararescue, who had served two tours in Afghanistan. From the first day he came up and talked to me to now, we quickly became friends.

The days had turned into weeks and I was finally able to live relatively by my own means. The Smithsonian was great, in the archives, no one was really around and I could spend a whole day without any interruptions, which allowed me to just concentrate on what I was doing. After closing, I normally walked to meet Sam, who was usually way too excited to see me, even though we saw each other almost every day without fail.

“You’re late today.” I jumped, startled out of my thoughts at the sound of someone talking to me. I looked up, spying Sam standing next to one of the small trees outside the VFW building.

“What do you mean late?”

“I mean you usually get here at three-thirty. It's four right now.” He said looking down at his watch.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize. I've just been lost in my thoughts lately.” I sighed.

“I know we’ve only been friends for what? A month? But I already know when something is bothering you, What is it?”

“Nothing really, just my brother. Since moving here he's called at least twice a week to check up but it’s been radio silence for the past two weeks, he doesn't even answer when I try calling him. I'm just a little worried that something bad is going on, considering his job.”

“Well, maybe he’s just really busy at the moment, or he's somewhere he can't call you. You know how it is being out on those military missions.”

“I know, it’s just the last time we were apart on a mission,” I trailed off and looked up at Sam, he raised his eyebrows, quietly waiting for the end of the sentence. “Someone close to us passed. It’s still fresh in my mind like it happened yesterday. I was there that day and I was too far away to even know what had happened, now my brother and I aren’t even in the same vicinity as each other, there is no telling what could happen and it makes me nervous.”

He gave me a small apologetic smile and patted my shoulder before leading me from the tree where we stood to where his car was parked. “What do you say we hang out at mine and just watch some tv? Get your mind off things? Or we can talk about it, either way, it’s better than dealing with it alone.” I nodded my head and grabbed onto the car door handle as he unlocked it.

Walking through the front door after him I took a quick look around. It was cozy, way more decorated than I thought it would be for a man in his early thirties living alone.

“Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?” He asked neck-deep in the fridge.

“Okay, I’ll just have some water,” I called out as I made my way further into the living room. The couch was backed up to the wall a few feet away from the dining room table. I sat down on it and scooted as close as I could to its right arm. A few moments later Sam came over with two glasses of water and a bag of chips. He handed me my drink before crashing down into his own seat. “Thank you,” I said before taking a long sip.

He nodded as he said “No problem.” Before he got himself really comfortable he searched around for the TV remote. As he pressed the ‘on’ button the TV came to life. “What in the world is that?” He sounded concerned so I quickly looked at the screen.

“Breaking: Attack on New York City. This afternoon at 2:15 several unidentified aircraft descended onto Earth's surface. Strange beings, some are calling aliens, Accompanied these ships and are causing havoc in Manhattan. Eyewitnesses have stated that they have seen Iron Man, and what seemed to be Captain America, leading a team of three others fighting back against the invaders. The battle seems to be over but updates are still coming in, let's take a look at some footage of the downtown destruction.” My eyes went wide and my heart stopped as I listened to what the reporter was saying. I kept my eyes glued to the screen as it changed to show a destroyed street. As the camera panned around I spotted Steve fighting against two of the creatures, before the clip quickly changed to show one of the large ships crashing into the New York skyline.

“Oh God Steve, what did you get into?” I murmured to myself.

“You say that like you know him personally.”

“Uhh.” I just gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise. “I do, he’s my brother.”

“Now really isn’t the time to be joking about things,” He gave me a pointed look.

“I swear I’m not joking, he really is my brother. I can explain later, I need to try and get a hold of him.” I pulled out the small flip phone from my pocket and dialed the number for Steve's cell phone, it rang and rang but no answer. I hung up quickly and dialed the number Fury gave me at the beginning of the month. After two rings he answered.

“I assume you are looking for Captain Rogers.”

“Where is he? Is he okay?” I tried to keep the worried tone from coming through in my voice.

“He’s fine. He is in the middle of a debriefing. I’ll tell him you called.”

“Okay, thank you.” As soon as the words left my mouth he gave a quick hum and then hung up. I looked over at Sam whose eyes hadn't left me at all. “Everything is fine, he's in a debrief so that means that whatever happened in New York is definitely over.”

“That’s good to hear, hopefully, those things don’t try to come back again.” He shook like a shiver ran down his spine. “Now please explain how Captain America, a man from the 1940s, is your brother.”

“I can hear the skepticism in your voice.”

He held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I'm not the one saying I'm the sister to a 90 something-year-old man.”

“Look, it’s a long story that I would rather not get into now but the short version is that I was born in 1921, Steve is my older brother, we both ended up taking the super-soldier serum and fought against HYDRA in the second world war. We ended up crashing a plane into some Ice in the Atlantic ocean and were found and unfrozen last October.” “If you are really Captain America’s sister, then why are you never mentioned in anything?” I looked at him and shook my head.

“Well for starters it was the forties and I was a woman fighting on the front lines. Credit is never given where it is due. But there is also the fact that I was a part of the SSR, which was very secretive, after I died.” I put my fingers up in air quotes, “They should have erased most, if not all the files on me, per protocol. The only reason Steve is well known is because of his time going cross country selling war bonds.” I paused for a second before quickly adding, “I’m sure if you look hard enough, you’ll find me in the history books somewhere.”

Sam just sat there not really saying anything. This was the first time I think he had ever been quiet for more than five seconds. I let out a deep sigh and stood, grabbing my bag from the floor. “Thanks for having me over, but I think I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood and walked me to the door.

“Don’t be late. I’ll see you.” Sam waved me off and I headed down the street.

About half a year later while sorting through some archive files, I came across Peggy Carter. I felt a pang in my heart as I stared at the photo of her standing next to Howard Stark. Other than Steve and Bucky, those two were my closest friends. I fell down a rabbit hole after that, finding any information on the two that I could find. They had both helped found SHIELD in 1965, they had both gotten married and had children of their own. Peggy's children had stayed out of the public eye, but in true Stark fashion, Howard’s son evidently took over the family business and was living the high life. I pulled out a newspaper from the stack I had on the table in front of me and was shocked at what I saw. The title read ‘Howard and Maria Stark Die in Car Accident’, I knew Howard most likely wasn’t alive anymore but seeing the photographs of the wrecked car in the newspaper cast a somber mood through the room.

I laid the paper down on the table and ruffled through more of the papers before determining that we had no information on if Peggy was alive or not. That sent me into a frenzy of looking through phone books to try and find her and calling every retirement home in DC that I could. The only lead I had to go off of was a small interview from a newspaper, talking to Peggy about the seventieth anniversary of V-E Day, stated that she was living in Washington, DC.

After eight failed calls, finally, on the ninth, I had finally found a home which had a Peggy Carter as a residence in room 204. I rushed to pack up my things and left my office early. I ran down the back hallways as fast as I could without drawing too much attention. When I made it out of the building I ran full speed to the road to hail a cab.

Amazingly the traffic was almost nonexistent and I made it to the retirement home in only ten minutes. I fumbled out of the cab and I raced through the front doors of the building. I must have startled the women at the front desk because as soon as I rounded the corner to the staircase, they were yelling after me. I took the steps three at a time in my haste to get to the second floor. I stopped running when I was outside of room 204. I couldn’t see anything clearly through the frosted window so I knocked hesitantly and slowly opened the door and stepped in.

There in the middle of the room, against the wall was a single bed. A woman laid there quietly with her eyes closed. The closer I came to her the more familiar she looked. I let out a relieved gush of breath. There she was, older now, but still the Peggy I once knew. I nervously grabbed one of the chairs in the corner of the room and brought it over to her bedside so I could sit. Gently I gave her a small tap on the hand before just holding it in mine. She stirred but her eyes never opened.

All of a sudden one of the nurses from downstairs came into the room, with an angry and shocked expression.

“Ma’am, You can't be in here. If you want to see a patient, you have to sign in.” I ignored her, my eyes trained on Peggy's face. The commotion of the woman barging into the room had made her open her eyes and look around. I just watched as she scanned the room, first to the door on the left, to the wall in front of her, past me sitting on her right, then to the window behind me.” Her brows raised and she lifted her hands to her eyes to rub. The shock on her face was evident as she turned her head to stare directly at me.

“Hey Carter, long time no see huh?” I gave her the biggest smile that I could.

“Is it really you?” She reached her hand out to mine and grabbed hold.

“It is, it’s really me.”

“Ma’am, I mean it, you can't be here.” The nurse tried again, this time Peggy shot her a glare.

“Ms. I’ll have you know this is one of my best friends and she can be in here if she wants to. Now leave us alone.” The young nurse nodded her head and rushed out, even in old age she could still put on that commanding tone that struck fear in every man. She slowly turned back to me, almost like if she looked back for me, I would be gone. “How? How are you here?”

“It’s a long story Peg, are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Look where I am, I have nothing but time.” She laughed out and I let out my own small laugh as I shook my head.

In addition to what I had been doing, like hanging out with Sam, after that first visit, I made it a priority to see Peggy once or twice every two weeks, depending on how she was doing. Dementia had put a lot of stress on her, and seeing me after almost seventy-five years and looking relatively the same as I had when frozen took out a giant toll on her.

And that's how the next 10 months went until Steve eventually moved into an apartment directly under me.

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila

[chaoticallysapphic]

Oh my heart part three

-Summary: Lin never expected to have a soulmate, in a world where your mark appears whenever your soulmate is born she grew up completely blank. So when she’s thirty and it finally etches itself around her arm, she vows to never be with the one meant only for her.

A/N: soooo I’ve never written a kiss before, please give me constructive criticism on it so I can better my writing. This is the last part and I’m really happy with the ending, please let me know which part of this whole series was your favorite!

Word count: 6k

When Lin wakes up, all she feels is the mind splitting pain from her blow, flashes of what happen play in her mind, the last thing she remembers is hearing you scream her name. You, Lin, forces her eyes open which is a task an of itself, and tries to sit up, her muscles spasm and give out, causing her to fall back down onto where she is laying, wherever she is its moving; Tenzin comes into her eyesight, he leans over her as he checks her pupils and her pulse. “Thank spirits you're all right, I was worried for a minu-”

“You just left my sister?!” Lin hears Korra scream from somewhere nearby. No, no she can’t have heard her correctly, Lin tries to sit up once more but Tenzin tries to push her back down.

“Get off of me” she growls out, sitting up so she can finally see the group in front of her. It’s Korra with her fists clenched and her face all pinched and red, she looks like she may very well kill everyone on board, yes, Lin realizes now that they are on the police force blimp. “We couldn’t find her and tanks were shooting at us, we didn’t ha-”

“Where’s y/n?” Lin asks, all heads turn to Lin and Korra points at Bolin and Mako, spitting out “ask them, they just left her behind! Amon probably has her now!” Korra storms off, hitting the wall with her firebending on the way out.

Mako rubs the back of his neck, he does look sorry and Bolin looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Asami is the one who speaks up “When we got down there they were loading your officers into some trucks, they must have already put y/n on there because she wasn’t with you three.” Lin’s heart stops, your gone and the last words she may have ever said to you was “don’t be a nuisance,” fuck. Lin’s head falls into her hands as she tries to keep her breathing even, she pushed you away like everyone else, and like everyone else you left even if it was against your will. All those silly daydreams that she had scolded herself for having, all those desires, she never even got to say how your laugh makes every little worry on her mind vanish.

Tenzin places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze “we’ll find your officers Lin.” Oh right, fuck, not only did she let y/n down but also her officers. How is she going to tell all their families? How will she face the citizens of republic city after failing to protect them like she swore she would? Tenzin tries to push Lin back into laying down and this time she relents, her mind is swirling with the possibilities of what's happening to you right now but none of them are good, even if you do come out alive your bending will be taken away.

“From the looks of it she put up a fight, there was water everywhere…” Asami murmurs out somewhere behind her, Lin squeezes her eyes shut, maybe if she tries hard enough you’ll magically appear, maybe if she promises the spirits she’ll be nicer to everyone, especially you, they’ll give you back to her.

Back, Lin never had you in the first place, she shut you out and squashed any chance there may have been, at the time it seemed smart but now she lays here wishing she had kissed you at least once. On the tram she almost did, when you stepped closer to her Lin's thoughts were engulfed in you, her senses were filled with you, the scent of your perfume, your voice, and even your touch. She’d wanted to pull you into a never-ending kiss right there in front of everyone, wanted to throw all caution to the wind and finally let herself be yours.

Instead, she’d snapped at you with some vicious reply that she doesn’t even remember all too well, just that she called you a nuisance and the devastating look on your face at her response. She had to turn away from you, she couldn’t look into your eyes or else she knew she’d have caved. She would have held your face in her hands and given a million sincere apologies in hopes of erasing that look from your face.

Lin uses the last of her strength to turn her back on the bickering group of teens and falls back to sleep, except this time all she dreams about is finding you dead in some ditch.

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Lin spent her time on bed rest with you and her officers on her mind. She was deeply ashamed of her failure, she even had nightmares about if she did find you. In them you were either dead or close to it, in one you even declined her help to get medical attention and told her you’d rather die than live your life with her as a soulmate. That one had truly shattered her. There's a radio beside her bed, for the most part, it played nonsensical talk shows with mind-numbing segments, the only reason she had it on was that sometimes a police report was given.

“We interrupt your regularly scheduled broadcast to bring you this special report. Late last night equalists attacked city hall subduing councilman Tarlock and capturing avatar Korra details are still coming in but-” Lin turns it off and forces herself out of bed, pain erupts in her right arm and she has to stop for a second to hold it and let the pain subdue, it doesn’t completely disappear but it’s enough to get her out of bed.

She lets out a pained groan and heads over to the closet that has her clothes inside, her uniform stares at her mockingly, reminding her that she’s no longer chief of police but right now isn’t time for a pity party, so she gets out of her pajamas and into her usual white tank top and pants then metal bends the armor on. Lin looks down at her breastplate and stares at her pin that marks as such and rips it off, tossing it onto her nightstand. She has to find Korra, you’d want her to find Korra.

Lin leaves the hospital with a coat over her armor to not so subtly hide what she's wearing underneath and storms off to retrieve Asami from her cell. She metal bends the door off and soon the two are off, Asami is walking next to her, trying to keep up with the pace “we’re gonna find them, I know we will” Asami says, Lin sighs and squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. She hope’s so.

She busts Bolin and Mako out next, reluctantly but she knows her best bet at finding everyone in time is with them by her side. Her next destination is Tenzin's office, once inside she finds him sitting at his desk on the telephone, he eyes them, a surprised look appearing on his face which causes Lin to roll her eyes. Did he expect her to pout until someone else fixed this mess?

“I… have to go,” he says to whoever is on the other end of the line. “Call me back the minute you hear anything-” he immediately ends the call, going to stand from his seat with his hands up in the air. “- Lin what... What are… what are you” he sputters out before his shoulders sag and he gives her an exasperated look. “You should be in the hospital! And you three-” he begins, pointing his fingers at the younger three of the group, “- should be in prison!”

“I figured you could use our help finding Korra” she replies, she wants to say find you, but she knows her best bet at finding you is through your sister, and if Lin found you first, you’d be enraged to find your little sister missing. They all theorize on how to start the search, Asami, Bolin, and Mako run off after Mako says he might know where to go. Lin looks up at Tenzin, letting out a deep sigh “wherever Amon is keeping Korra, I bet that's where y/n and my officers are too.”

Tenzin looks into Lin’s eyes and says with the utmost confidence “let's bring them all home Lin.” Everyone eventually boards Oogi and Mako directs Tenzin where to go. Besides his directions it's utterly quiet on the back of the sky bison, everyone is tense and buzzing with the hope that his hunch is correct. Eventually, they land in a city square and upon climbing down Mako immediately runs over to one of the streets “the truck that took Bolin went this way” he states, pointing at the winding road.

They walk down the street for at least two blocks before coming to an intersection, everyone slowly comes to a halt as Asami breaks the silence “which way?” Bolin strokes his chin as he steps closer to the street in front of them and replies “this way seems familiar.”

Lin, not wanting to go out on a hunch, especially one made by him, bends one of her shoes off and slams her foot down, she closes her eyes as she tries to see what's beneath the surface. A tunnel! It's to the left instead of straight and Lin bends her shoe back on, pointing left “there's a tunnel nearby!”

They break off into a sprint once more and come upon an unused storm drain that has a massive tunnel covered by a metal grate. Motorcycle tracks are leading into the tunnel, confirming their growing suspicions. “Korra has to be in there… somewhere,” Mako says as Lin bends the gate upwards with a bang.

They walk for at least fifteen minutes before they come to a grinding halt, in front of them are five separate tunnels splitting off into different directions. Mako is bending some fire in his hand to help illuminate their path. He doesn’t stop though, he points to a tunnel and tells them he thinks it's this way. With no other option, they all follow after him and continue their descent into the unknown. Soon they hear the revving of motorcycles behind them, Lin orders them all to hide and they all press themselves into a hidden nook. A secret door opens up for the cyclists and they speed inside without a single idea of what they’ve just done.

That pesky feeling of hope blooms in Lin’s chest once more, she runs over to the secret door that has since been shut and feels around before bending it open. It slams open and without a second to lose they race down this secret tunnel with abandon. There's a large room before them with equalists working inside, there are multiple vehicles inside and a tram system leading down three tunnels straight ahead.

One of the trams arrives and an equalist with a feminine voice walks up to the one holding a clipboard and says “everything was delivered to the prison, sir.” Both are fools, far too comfortable with the area because they walk away leaving the contraption unattended. “That’s where they must be keeping Korra” Tenzin whispers. And y/n, Lin thinks, she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, forcing herself to focus and says “we need to get down that tunnel.”

She waves at them, signaling them to follow her as she sneaks towards the tram. Once onboard, Asami drives it for them, going as fast as she can while Tenzin and Lin stand upfront, on guard for anything that may be lurking in the shadows. Once they see a light ahead seeping into the otherwise dark tunnel Lin orders them off and everyone presses their backs against the wall as the tram continues speeding down to the landing.

“It’s empty,” one idiotic officer says, and another reply in a snarky tone “yeah, I can see that.” Before either can investigate further, Lin shoots out her metal wires and yanks them into the darkness with them. She knocks them out, perhaps a bit too harshly but she’s beyond caring and ties them up so they can’t run off to warn anyone else. Using her aseismic senses, she’s able to locate her men… but not y/n.

“What about Korra?” Mako questions, his tone borderline irritable. Lin keeps a calm composure and replies “I don’t see her yet.” Mako and Tenzin follow Lin as she leads the way through the prison, all of the cells they pass are empty, strange. When they turn a corner two guards are waiting, as they ready themselves for a fight, Tenzin uses his bending to knock them out against the walls. Too easy.

When Lin finally finds their cell, all of them are sitting on their bunks with their heads down. Lin bends the bars apart but none of them seem to care as they stare up at her. “Chief Beifong?” officer Song asks, his voice is weak and Lin immediately knows that she’s failed her men.

“I’m too late, aren’t I? That monster already took your bending, didn’t he?” Song nods, his face solemn and Lin clenches her fists, having to look away from him or else she might just crack. “I’m so sorry... Come on, let's get you out of here” Lin turns her back on them and hears them follow after her, that means yours is gone too, wherever you are.

When Lin rounds the corner, she finds Mako holding one of the guards against the wall, one of his fists alight with fire. “I scanned the entire prison, Korra and y/n aren’t here.”

“Why would Tarlock make up a story about getting attacked?” Mako drops the guy and the guard falls to the floor, there's liquid on the floor beneath him that wasn’t there before, that wimp pissed himself. “Because he has Korra” she replies, Lin pushes past Mako and squats down to be eye level with the shaking guard, she wraps her hand around his neck but doesn’t put any pressure on him, it’s a threat and his eyes widen in fear as he realizes it. “W-We don’t have the avatar! I… I swea-”

“Where is y/n, she most likely came in on the same truck as my officers” Lin demands. The color drains from his face at her question, he begins stuttering out some kind of incoherent reply about how he doesn’t know but she can tell he’s lying through his teeth. Lin applies pressure and asks again. “Where. Is. She?”

“Sh-she killed her guards, they took her to a special place!” the guard has spit falling out of the side of his mouth, tears racing down his cheeks, she loosens her hold just a bit. Did you kill someone? It must have been before they took your bending away. “Where?!”

“It’s done below, you have to take an eleva-”

“Show me” she growls out, she yanks him up to his feet and pushes him away from the wall, he stumbles a bit but Tenzin catches his forearm, she can tell he’s not too pleased with her but she doesn’t care. Mako leads Lin's men back to the tram while Tenzin stays with her, keeping his hold on the blubbering guard. He leads them back down where the officers were held but keeps moving forward. There’s a locked door made of solid platinum, the guard pulls a switch out of his pocket and flicks it, causing the door to harshly slide open with a bang. He keeps leading them, his shoulders shaking.

They go down a twisting staircase and stop at an elevator stationed at the halfway point. He opens the metal sliding doors up and the three climb inside. There are a million buttons on the panel in front of them, if Lin came alone she’d have no clue where to start, but thankfully this wimp knows exactly what button to press.

“Oh man, Amons gonna kill me” he sobs out, snot drips into his mouth as he throws his head into his hands. Tenzin gives Lin a look of discomfort, neither are good at comforting people, both can’t be around someone whos crying without becoming incredibly uncomfortable. Tenzin lets out a sigh when he realizes Lin won’t give in.

“We’ll take you with us, so he can’t,” he says softly, the guards head flies up to look at Tenzin, the air bender takes a step back as snot and spit going flying, Lin scrunches her nose up in disgust. “Really?” he whispers, Tenzin nods and before he can even stop it, the guard flings his arms around him and squeezes him tight. Lin feels a chuckle bubbling up her throat at the sight of Tenzin's horrified gaze, he mouths ‘help me’ but Lin just turns her head to look at the door. The elevator dings and the doors creak open to reveal a dark hallway ahead of them. The guard pulls away from Tenzin and pats his shoulder, offering him a smile full of gratitude.

He leads them down the hall before they stop at another door, also made of platinum. Once again he pulls out his controller full of switches and flicks one, making the door slam open. Its pitch black inside, Lin takes a hesitant step inside. The sound of something scraping against the floor echoed through the room and Lin steps out of the way just seconds before you appear, holding up a metal chair, you swing it where she once was.

“Y/n,” Lin says, she sees your arms shaking as you drop the chair, you fall to your knees from exerting to much energy, “Lin?” your voice is hoarse, and when you lift your head to glance up at her, something inside of her cracks. Your hair is matted with dry blood, the side of your face is caked in it and there are bags under your eyes, your skin is so pale and despite only being locked up for a week you look so weak, your cheeks are hollowed out.

Lin finally knocks herself out of her thoughts when she hears you whimper and she scrambles down onto her knees to cup your face, she inspects you for any open wounds, or signs of illness, you bring one of your hands up to loosely grip her wrist and Lin gasps at the sight of your bloodied fingers.

“She… uh she was scratching a lot when we first put her in here,” he says hesitantly. Lin’s head swings over to him, suddenly the promise Tenzin made seems impossible, she wants to kill him and anyone else involved in your suffering.

“Why?” Lin spits out before he can answer her you reply softly “it was so dark.” Lin pulls you into her arms, burrowing her head into the crook of your neck, you fall into her arms, letting go of any tension within you as you become pliant to her will.

Someone clears their throat and Lin lifts her head to see Tenzin staring at her in confusion. “We should hurry,” he says, Lin nods and goes to stand but you grip onto her shoulders, she looks down and sees you try to stand, but your legs shake and you almost fall back down. She catches you and picks you up bridal style, you rest your head on her shoulder and close your eyes when you come out into the light. You hiss due to the pain and burrow your face into the fabric of her coat.

Something warm lights up her heart at the action but she smothers it, now's not the time. On the way back to the others Tenzin continues to stare at Lin oddly as the guard continues to lead them out.

You're sure this is a dream, you screamed for anyone down below, begged the spirits for a savior, and sobbed for mercy. But you gave up hope after a few days inside, it seemed you’d been left to rot, every few days someone would stop by with a small bowl of what can only be described as kitchen scraps and a sip of water. They were prolonging what felt like the inevitable, you felt so close to death, with your bending gone you had become weakened and you didn’t have any water to help strengthen you.

Halfway back to the others an ear-splitting siren went off as the lights in the prison repeatedly flashed red. Everyone broke into a sprint and ran down the stairs that reunited them with the others.

“Let's go, people!” Bolin calls out as everyone boards the tram, once inside Asami speeds off, behind them a set of headlights flashes as another tram picks up speed, Lin sees Bolin bend the tunnel into collapsing right on top of the second tram and if not for the situation she might have given him a pat on the back. Lin gives you to Tenzin who carefully holds you close as she shouts out “We got more company, hang on!” she shouts as she bends a metal vent to act as a ramp for them. Due to the speed of the tram, it keeps its momentum, she then bends away from the earth in front of them to allow them to enter another tunnel above.

The tram screeches as it's off its tracks and now on the stone before abruptly coming to a halt, everyone groans, the impact has caused them to either fly from their seats or in poor Asami’s case, bang her head into the metal wall in front of her. Tenzin had used his air bending to keep both of you seated, adding enough pressure that when everyone went flying, you both just experienced a jolt.

Lin opens up a hole above, letting the sun shed light on the otherwise dim tunnel. Tenzin gets everyone out with his air bending, including the officer that Lin is most definitely arresting and sentencing to life if she can have anything to do with it. Once up above, Lin goes to take you from his arms but Tenzin pulls back and stares her down.

“What was that about down there?” he questions. In another world Tenzin would have been the one fretting over you, he’d taken you both in and sworn to your parents that he’d protect you. Whilst Korra was a bit rough and hard to handle, you’d play with his children, you kept Jinora company when she felt left out, and helped feed the sky bison whenever you could.

You’d already talked to Pema about how you’d help with the delivery of their next child you’d briefly trained at a healing school in the southern tribe before you decided to follow Korra here and had helped many women deliver healthy babies into the world. You were like a daughter to him, so Lin's unusual display of affection almost unnerved him.

Before Lin can come up with some kind of retort, you turn your head, your eyes squinted as you try to adjust to the light. “Lin?” you say, you reach out for her and without thinking of Tenzin she steps closer and grabs your hand. “I need to take her to the hospital Tenzin and you need to deal with Tarlock.”

Tenzin scowls before carefully handing you to Lin, almost immediately you clutch her coat and snuggle in as close as you can. His brows knit together as the pieces of the puzzle finally snap into place. “But…” he begins, Lin stops him before he can bombard her with questions. “I need to get her to a doctor as soon as possible.” She knows later down the line she’ll have to have a long talk with him, explaining herself and… this thing between the two of you. She rushes off in the direction of the hospital, it’s four blocks away which isn’t too far but she’s filled with fear that somehow you’ll die in her arms if she doesn’t hurry. Once inside the waiting room, Lin calls out for help and two nurses rush forward with a wheelchair once they see you in her arms.

They whisk you away, or try to, one of the nurses tries to convince Lin to stay behind but she won’t be separated from you, not until she knows you're completely safe. “She’s my soulmate and I’ll arrest anyone who tries to keep me away from her right now.” That shuts her up. Lin’s never pulled that kind of card before, and honestly, she wouldn’t arrest someone unless they’d done something illegal but you're getting farther away and her heart is beating faster. The nurse blanches and Lin takes that as her queue to run after you.

The same doctor who looked after Lin, which he repeatedly tries to convince her to go back to her room and rest, to which she declines, looks you over for any injuries. The back of your head is healing, very slowly though and it doesn’t look like it’s been properly cleaned so he has one of the nurses do that as he checks the rest of your body.

“Does it hurt anywhere besides your head and your hands?” he asks, to which you can’t offer a proper reply. Everywhere hurts, you're sore and weak and you feel like if you close your eyes you may never open them again. The doctor sighs, “we need some bone broth and -” he starts listing off medicines to the nurses who scurry off and he orders two others to clean your fingers which elicits a pained groan out of you.

Lin kneels and stays there the whole time, once the nurse arrives with a warm bowl of broth Lin takes it from her and helps you sip it. She nudges her arm underneath your neck to prop your head up and gently brings the bowl up to your lips before tilting it slowly to allow only a little at a time. You happily drink it but can only get about halfway before you claim your too full to continue.

She frowns but relents, not wanting to push you. Eventually, the nurses move you to a proper bed, one like Lin’s, after they clean you up and tuck you underneath the blankets. You’ve long since fallen asleep and the sun is beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow throughout the room. You already look a bit better, one of the nurses gave Lin a warm, wet cloth when asked so she could gently wipe your face clean of all the dried up blood. It’s been roughly two hours since Lin entered the hospital and she already wants out, but not without you. This is a public place and therefore means it's easier to attack, if she lets her guard down Amon may very well try to steal you away once more.

Tenzin and the others, sans Korra, enters the hospital room as Lin finishes wiping up the dirt above your brow and when she hears them, she immediately sets the cloth onto the table, embarrassment floods through her at being caught and she knows she shouldn’t care but she does.

“Tarlock is a blood bender,” Bolin says, raising his hands in the air “and he has Korra!” Mako jabs Bolin in the stomach as everyone shushes him, you stir, letting out a groan before stilling once more, thankfully he didn’t wake you, or Lin definitely would have knocked some sense into him.

“We should all go to air temple island, we’ll be safer together-” Lin goes to speak up, she won’t leave you behind “- y/n will too. I spoke with a nurse outside who says she doesn’t have any serious injuries, just malnourished and therefore very weak. Food and rest will help.” He clears his throat and looks Lin in the eyes “I’d like to speak outside for a moment.”

She stands up, knowing that she needs to get this talk over with. Asami takes Lin's seat beside you as she walks out of the room and down the hall just enough so that they are out of earshot. “She’s my soulmate” Lin starts, her hand once more grazes the burnt mark that now fills her with so much regret. Tenzin looks away before letting out a deep sigh.

“How?” he questions. She lied to him for so long, he’s seen her body bare and knows that she doesn’t have a mark, anymore. His eyes follow her hand and a look of shock takes over his features “It wasn’t a work-related accident, was it?” His jaw clenches as he stares her down. She burnt it right before they went out for the first time, he’d claimed he would find the man responsible for her scar but she’d always shrugged it off. It makes sense.

“No… I was ashamed” she grits her teeth as she remembers sobbing over the burn, telling herself to get over it and that it was for the better. That she’d be happy with Tenzin and wouldn’t need some infantile immature young adult in her life. But you aren’t immature, you're so strong and courageous, she’s seen how you care for those around you and honestly, she doesn’t get how your friends with Bolin and Mako since they are both downright annoying whilst you are anything but.

“And now?” he questions, she knows he probably has a million little judgments he wants to spew out, most likely scold her for something that she can’t control and she’s grateful for him reigning it and trying to remain calm. She doesn’t think she can handle anything else that requires even an ounce of effort after how today has gone.

“I tried to push her away, I told her it wouldn’t work but…” Lin tries to find her next words but there's a lump forming in her throat and she will not cry, not in public, and definitely not in front of Tenzin.

“But she was captured” he finishes for her and she sharply nods, staring at some water stain on the wall up above his right shoulder. “I want you to be happy Lin, even if this does seem strange to me, if you both make each other happy then I’ll get over my preconceived judgments and support you both.”

Lin simply nods, tears are threatening to fall from her eyes so she mutters a “thank you” and heads to the bathroom to compose herself. Tenzin understands, he heads back to your hospital room as Lin barges into the thankfully empty bathroom and begins to cry. You're fine, you're safe and relatively healthy and you will be fine. All she can hope is that once you’ve recovered you’ll forgive her, Lin never apologizes or admits she's wrong but for you, she’ll do so in an instant. She’ll get on her knees for you, beg you even. She’ll be humiliated but it will have been worth it if you give her another shot, one that she’ll make sure she doesn’t screw up.

Tenzin’s approval means so much to her, he probably doesn’t realize it either. She might never be close to him again after what happened but she still sees him as her family, if he’d have shamed her Lin wouldn’t have been able to go on, which she’ll never let him know.

Lin wipes the tears out of her eyes and waits until the redness and puffiness die down before leaving the bathroom and heading back into your room. You're sitting up and are listening to Tenzin with a tired smile on your face as he talks to you about who knows what. Your hair is still caked in dried up blood with bags under your eyes but still, you take Lins breath away.

Tenzin ushers everyone out of the room to give the two of you privacy, Bolin puts up a bit of a fight but relents when Lin fixes him with a glare that has him racing on out of the room before anyone else. Tenzin places his hand on Lin’s shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze before shutting the door behind him on the way out.

“Lin” you begin and in an instant, she’s rushing over to your side, she stops herself just as she’s about to take your hand, worried about your reaction. You slowly reach your hand up and interlock your fingers, there’s this look on your face like you're waiting for Lin to pull away in disgust. Instead, Lin gives your hand a gentle squeeze and slowly sits on the stool beside her bed like before.

“I’m sorry,” she says earnestly before you can say whatever was on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes widen but you don’t respond, you're waiting for her to continue, to elaborate so you don’t end up getting hurt again.

“I..” Lin gulps, “I thought I’d be a burden to you, I’m old, practically married to my job, I definitely won’t be winning any awards for my personality-” you crack a smile at that, it warms her heart “-and I don’t want kids. I thought maybe you’d want someone like Bolin or Mako because they could give you those kinds of things I can’t, I like to be in bed by nine and I’ve never even set foot in a dance club before. I’m… I’m not young like you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, Lin furrows her brows but otherwise nods, your other hand, the one not holding Lin's hand comes up to rest on her scarred cheek. “Did you ever think that maybe I want everything you can give me? No matter how much or how little it may be. I don’t want kids, sure they're nice but they are messy and time-consuming, it’s a job for life with no weekends.” Lin laughs at that, spirits, she doesn’t know if she believes you, it seems too good to be true.

“I can’t take someone else leaving me” she states, a pained look settling on her features. Your eyes soften and you pull Lin closer to you, she’s leaning against the bed now, your noses almost touching. You rub your thumb soothingly across her cheek, you're trying to find the right words to say. You can’t mess this up.

“I can’t promise I’ll never get mad at you or I'll never irritate you. We’ll probably have a string of fights throughout our years together but… I’ll never leave you, Lin, you’re all I want out of this life.” Lin’s eyes widen as unshed tears brim at the corners of her eyes. She’s never been told something so heartfelt, so romantic before.

She leans up further until your lips are inches apart and waits for a breath, waits to see if you’ll pull away, and claim that this is all a joke. But instead, you close the gap and let go of her hand just so you can cup both sides of her face. Your lips are so soft and delicate as you pull her closer until your chest to chest like back on the tram. Lin deepens the kiss, her hands resting on your waist, she’s too scared of gripping you in fear of hurting you in your fragile state. You lick the bottom of her lip and she opens her mouth all too eagerly, her knee is now resting on the edge of the bed so she can wrap her arms around you, pulling you flush against her.

Too soon you pull away from her, panting against her mouth and when Lin opens her eyes she has to fight the urge to pull you back into another passionate kiss. Your pupils are blown, cheeks flushed a deep red with swollen lips. She tries to capture it within her mind for safekeeping

“I think I love you” you whisper, your voice is hoarse and you thread your fingers through her hair, lightly gripping it. Lin has to keep herself from moaning at said action. That cynical side of her brain shouts within her skull that you're lying but Lin ignores it, she pecks you on the lips which you eagerly try to deepen but she pulls away just a few inches so she can talk.

“I think I love you too,” Lin whispers, too scared of breaking this moment that almost feels sacred. A smile spreads across your lips as you pull her into a kiss once more. Lin happily kisses you, her heart blooms with a million budding roses, all for you as she finally lets go of all her fears, all her insecurities, and enjoys the feel of you against her. Finally, she thinks

[midnightseonghwa]

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐬.𝐦𝐠

✕ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mingi x Reader ft. Jongho 

✕ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Odd Fluff

✕ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.8k+

✕ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Strong language

✕ 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Unedited

✕ 𝐀/𝐍: I came up with this while I was studying about the role of bacteria in manufacturing cheese and yogurt so...it’s basically just word vomit...

✕ 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜: here

"Mingi~" you sang and prodded the sleeping boy's cheek. The boy groaned and turned around to face his back towards you.

"Leave me," he said and pulled the blankets up over his face.

"Let's go out," you whispered and slowly peeled the cover off him.

"What time is it?" He asked and you glanced at the clock, giggling a little when you realised how late it truly was.

"It's...three in the morning," you said and Mingi groaned even louder, his hair sticking up in all different directions as he reached over but this time, he pulled your figure close to him so that you were almost lying over him.

"Uhm, Mingi," you whispered as a small blush set over your cheeks, the closeness making you blushy for no reason at all. You and Mingi were known as the over-affectionate couple so this shyness in you was new.

"What, shy all of a sudden?" He smirked, his voice low and dripping in sleepiness.

"Shut up and get ready," you said and smacked his arms, throwing a t-shirt at his face and walking out the room to put on your shoes.

"Where are we headed to at this late hour, my love?" Mingi said as he approached from the room, all dressed up in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The very ones that always made you weak in the knees and slightly more blushy than usual.

"I'm craving," you trailed off and unlocked the car as both of you got in.

"Jongho," Mingi and you said at the same time which caused you both to laugh and lean in to kiss each other.

"Great minds think alike, baby," he smirked and put his hand on your thigh as he drove down the road, yellow street lights illuminating the dark asphalt.

The silence between you two was rather comforting. It always was. There was never a reason for you to be shy around Mingi and every action of yours whether it be intentional or not was accepted by him.

You played with his long fingers that were curled around your thigh as the low hum of some old rock played on the radio, lulling you into a sleepy state.

"Anything, in particular, my princess is craving right now?" His deep voice lulled you out of the slightly sleepy state you had been pushed into and you giggled lightly, bringing his hand up to your mouth and kissing all five fingers lightly.

"Milkshake, fries, apple pie and oh!" you rattled and looked at him with almost comically wide eyes.

"Flake chocolate with ice cream," you said almost groaning at the taste of it. You could just imagine it.

"Only you can eat that crap. Who even eats apple pies nowadays?" He mused and you pouted. Mingi had always made fun of your love for your local diner's apple pies. But what could you do? Say it was unconventional...but you loved them.

"Just drive," you said and tapped his cheeks, him pressing a quick kiss to your wrist before focusing on the road. Getting comfortable, you pressed your head to the window, knowing it was going take another few minutes before you got to your destination.

The stars were splayed against the sky, all over the dark expanse of the dark universe. Your eyes drifted over the Mingi whose eyes were still on the road, shifting over to you briefly before smiling at you.

You could've sworn that at that moment, Mingi's smile twinkled much brighter than any of the stars that you could see above you.

"You know," Mingi's voice reached your ears and you hummed in reply.

"If you were planning to fall asleep, we could've just done that at home, with you tucked away in my arms. Instead of me driving ten minutes to feed you and you're going to fall asleep on me."

You gave an airy laugh at his words. Maybe the coffee you had drunk was finally wearing off but Mingi didn't have to know that.

"I'm not going to fall asleep. Just need some food for energy," you said and gave him a lopsided smile as he pinched your thighs, you jolting a little at the sensation.

"Sure, my love. I'll believe you."

Mingi parked the car as you were jumping in your seat. Being out at late hours, let alone past midnight was something your parents have never allowed you to do but Mingi was not your parents and nor were you his child.

"Let's go, baby," he said and held his hand out for you.

The parking lot was quite empty, but what had you expected at half-past three in the morning.  

The diner itself was rather crowded. Everyone from insomniacs to rebellious teenagers crowded the booths as you and Mingi made your way to the one you always sat at, under the large pink neon sign that said 'love'.

"Ah, if it isn't Mingi and (y/n),"  a friendly voice greeted you and you looked up to see Mingi's friend Jongho with his bright red hair being illuminated under the pink fluorescent lighting.

"Jongho! We were missing you late at night. Came just to see you," You gushed and gave the boy a bright smile which he returned.

"You mean you miss the food I give you for free."

"No..." you trailed off and pouted when Jongho gave you a shit-eating grin. Ah shit, the boy had caught you there.

"Full shift?" Mingi asked and the boy just nodded, tapping his pen against his spiral notepad lazily.

Your eyes gazed the menu before Jongho coughed and pulled your attention.

"Honestly (Y/n)," he said and pulled the menu from your grip causing Mingi to laugh a little.

"You always pretend to be interested in other things we have on the menu but always order the same thing," he groaned and started listing off the items as if he had read your mind.

"Two chocolate milkshakes, extra-large fries, two apple pies, one ice-cream topped with flake chocolate and for you," he said and eyed Mingi as if reading him.

Mingi opened his mouth to speak before Jongho interrupted him.

"Pizza pock- ah wait, cheese burger, got it," he started but immediately changed his mind when he saw Mingi's little cringe.

"It'll be ready in a few," Jongho said and walked to the kitchen area.

"It's to-go, Jjong," you shouted and the boy gave you a thumbs up.

While waiting for the food, Mingi and you chatted about the most insignificant things in life. It was fun to just get lost in his deep-set eyes that would never fail to keep you entertained for the rest of your life.

"Here you go," Jongho came back and put two white paper bags on your table, folded at the top.

"Be careful, this one has the milkshakes," he gestured to one of the bags and checked once just to make sure.

"I threw in an extra side of onion rings for free," he said and you smiled at the red-head.

The younger knew just how to please you.

"I can always count on you Jjong," you said and pressed a kiss to his cheek while Mingi paid for the food.

"Now, if you're done sucking up to my baby just to get some attention, can we leave?" Mingi interrupted and gave Jongho a small smirk. The younger male just blushed and pretended to hear another customer calling for him.

Getting into the car once again, Mingi set the paper bags on your lap as he started the car. You peeked inside, grabbing a fry and popping it in your mouth.

"At this rate, you'll finish before we get there," he said and you gave him a coy smile.

"Just one more for good measure," you said and pressed another one to your mouth then rolling the top of the bag down to seal it.

The ride to your and Mingi's special spot was shorter than the ride to the diner.

"No matter how many times I come to this place with you, it never gets old," you whisper, tucking your hand into your boyfriend's larger ones. The warmth radiating from his calloused hands spread through your entire body, getting rid of the slight midnight chill.

"It never does," he whispered and lifted you to perch you on the hood of the car.

"Here," he said and passed you a milkshake while you passed him his burger.

Mingi took a bite from the burger before reaching over for the sides. You sat happily munching on milkshake covered fries, the slight echoing of cicadas being drowned out by the rustling of wrappers and food.

"Mingi," you whispered and gazed out to the place in front of you. The wooden fence slightly creaked as you hopped off the hood of the car and leaned against it.

Mingi had finished his burger already and had moved onto the slice of pie. No matter how much he ridiculed you for it, there was no denying that even he couldn't resist it from time to time.

Today was just one of those days.

You leaned further into your boyfriend. His arms wrapped tightly over your shoulders and the smell coming from his t-shirt could have been enough to put you to sleep right there. It was so comforting.

"Mingi," you whispered once more and the male hummed in response, too engaged in eating his dessert.

"Say ah baby," he said and pushed a pie covered fork towards your lips.

You chewed and swallowed before turning to face your boyfriend.

"You know I love you right?" You said and looked towards the night sky that was now beginning to change into a light white pink-ish hue. The stars were invisible at the horizon and were slowly disappearing over your head as well.

"It looks like the sun is about to rise," Mingi whispered back to you and you checked your phone.

It was almost half-past six.

"It's beautiful," you said and breathed in the morning fresh air.

"Not as beautiful as you," Mingi said and you laughed at his words.

"That's so cheesy," you said and threw a fry at him, which he caught in his mouth.

"Only because I love you," he said and leaned in to press a kiss to your lips.

His lips moulded against yours and you could taste the remaining cinnamon from the pie on his lips. Stretching your hands above your head, you grabbed his head to pull closer so that your noses were clashing with each other as well.

You were the first to pull away, your chest heaving up and down to catch your breath as Mingi rested his forehead against yours.

"Where are the onion rings?" You asked and Mingi gave an airy laugh, pecking your nose.

"Jongho lied to us," he said and squished your cheeks when you gasped loudly and tried to move away from him to check the paper bag.

"That little shit. I'm going to fry him in batter."

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Discovering Secrets Aizawa Shouta x Pregnant!Reader

I do not own Boku no hero academia nor the gifs and images, they belong to their respective owners/creators. 

You can find my masterlist here! Also, you can find more content on my patreon!

Warning: Child being sick (Is this a warning?), Paternal!Aizawa, Maternal!Reader, Fluff. 

Words: 2090

During regular times, Shouta wouldn't be so nervous. But during regular times, he wasn't monitoring the powers of a young girl every second of the day. Hell, during regular times those times, he wasn't even patrolling, teaching only. Since the training camp incident, his class became is number one priority… well, number two, really, but that wasn't the subject. Shouta was becoming even more restless day after day. Tonight was no exception.  As the due date was approaching, he couldn't help but feel anxious.

He came back earlier than usual, which by itself was fine, but something in the house was unusual. The house was silent, too silent. Only a dim light was shining in the otherwise very bright home. There was no lullaby being singed, no chair creaking, no pages being turned, or paper being graded. The radio was not playing, or the T.V. for that matter. There was just the silence floating.  

"I'm home…" He called in a low voice. Typically, Ren would be sleeping at this hour, so he never called out loud so his son wouldn't wake up. He changed his shoes to slippers and loosened his tie.

No response came to greet him. Even more unusual. Typically, even if you were sleeping, the lights in the kitchen would be open, and the radio would play some classical music. And by the time it was, Shouta knew you were not asleep yet. So what was it? Walking down the hall, he looked at the pictures framed on the wall, there were only three, but each was significant. The first one was of himself and a woman in a gown, smiling happily while looking into each other's eyes. The second was of a family dinner, and the woman was heavily pregnant, the last showed the woman, a baby with wide black eyes and mouth agape and himself during Chrismas. 

"Y/N?" Shouta called again. Both of you owned an apartment near the train station. It was far enough from the middle of the town to be safer if a villain came to attack. It was a requirement on his behalf to have children. Shouta wasn't mainly found of popularity. If he could have his private life safe from prying eyes, he was the happiest. 

For the last three years, when Eraser Head became less active on the streets, not many people knew the reason why. Some journals said it was because of the lack of sleep he was getting. While they weren't wrong about the lack of sleep in general, Shouta was glad it wasn't the truth. When he started to be less present on crime scenes, it was because of the birth of his first child. Five years prior, he had married in secrecy to the woman of his life and had been glad when no journalists showed up. 

The reason why now was a particularly stressful moment was the current state of his wife, A.K.A, another hero, A.K.A. you. You (codename: Doctor Karma, quirk: Health, can cause all health diseases simulating, while also being able to cure people with minor to mild physical injuries) were eight months pregnant, paddling like a duck (your words not his) and still not on maternity leave. You hadn't been in action since the birth of your son Ren, but you were still teaching at U.A., and that was nearly the same thing those days. Shouta walked across the bookcase furniture, separating the living room from the bedroom hall when he heard movement. 

"Shouta!" your voice called from Ren's room. It was low and frenetic, you were panicking. Your figure slowly appeared from the shadows of the room, your eyes wide with stress. "He has a fever, I don't know what to do… he didn't want to eat, he didn't drink that much..." rambling, you could only wrap your arms around his shoulders, normally, Shouta would have blushed, even if you two were married didn't mean he was any more comfortable with physical contact, but in the state of stress you were in, he let you stay in his arms for a while. Your policy was to never use your quirk on your child because he was still so young and that it was even more stressful than using it on strangers. Shouta understood why you didn't try anything for Ren at the moment. 

"It's alright." It wasn't, "I'll take care of him." How was he going to do that? He barely managed to take care of himself. "Go get some rest, okay?" He too wanted to sleep, but the very heavily pregnant wife he had stressed before him was making more nervous than anything else. He could manage a sick kid, all these years of teaching were not for nothing after all, but a crying, exhausted wife full of hormones, that was a thing he didn't like to see and didn't know how to deal with. 

He walked with you to your shared room, seeing as you already were in pyjama, Shouta assumed that you had made yourself ready for bed earlier. "I'll take care of everything." You were still rambling about what you thought your baby had when he spoke. 

"You'll need to sleep too. Wake me up when it's too hard to stay awake, okay?" You implored, looking at him with those eyes Shouta couldn't resist. He nodded, kissing your forehead before heading to Ren's room again.  

While he hadn't show it to you, the fact that your son was running a fever had made him more anxious than before. Ren had everything terrible for him, your first pregnancy was hard, his birth was hard and traumatic for the both of you as both you and the baby nearly didn't make it. Then for the first three months of his life, Ren was continually sick. Him being sick now was just a throwback at how life was before. Shouta didn't like seeing you stressing over this, even less so now that you could start having a contraction at any moment. He didn't need to have another premature baby if he could prevent it. That was also the reason why he didn't want you to work right now, but you were a stubborn woman. 

Shouta spent the night with his son in his arms, checking his temperature and changing the wet rag on his forehead every time it went hot. Dozing off lightly at some point until the door of the room opened. His eyes went wide in a second, and he was standing, ready to fight. But it was only you. He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to wake you, a look of guilt passed on his eyes before his face went blank again. 

"I called my mom, she'll take care of Ren today. She'll call me if anything happens." You said in a whisper. 

"Is your mom here now?" He asked. You nodded, eyes lingering on your son for a second before leaving the room. As you let the door open, Shouta looked at the clock in the kitchen. If he didn't move now, he'd be late for school. He put Ren back in his bed, and followed you out of the room, greeting your mother on his way to the kitchen. 

Your mother was fretting over you as you packed your bag with papers to grades and a cup of tea and money and pencils and everything a teacher needs to work and even a little more. Shouta too was watching you wearily. When both of you were ready, he took the bags and let you say goodbye to your mom, waiting by the door. He gave her a nod and left after you. 

The way to the school was an hour-long, you had to take the train and then walk a few minutes before arriving, but Shouta didn't let you walk behind like he would usually do. It was something you both agreed on when you first started dating. Nobody could know of your relationship outside of the school members, and preferably only close friends at the school. Today, Shouta was walking right by your side, your bag on his shoulder with his own. You didn't complain. Even while on the school ground, while walking in the halls, greeting the students, Shouta was still by your side. 

"Hi, miss (L/N)!" shouts students after students, while silently greeting your husband. It's not until you're at your desk that Shouta leaves you to go to his class. He still gives you one last squeeze on the shoulder and a previous sentence before going for his day. 

"If your mom calls, call me too, 'kay?" and he disappears. 

You didn't even have the time to nod, but you know that if you don't do as he says, he will resent it for long; after all, Ren is still his child too, you can't be stubborn on this. But you put every trouble behind you and clear your bag to start your day too. 

                                                    (...)

So let's be honest, a child with fever is either fine the next day or worst by the end of the week and guess what: Ren is worst by the end of the week so much so that you have to take sick days to go with him (and your mom) at the hospital. And it's cool because it's the same hospital as where Eri is, the little girl that your husband needs to monitor, so you get to officially meet her. But the situation is nowhere near calm. You are stressed, your boy is sick, Eri is very shy but follows you around like a baby duck, and Shouta is stressed with everything that goes on. 

Toshinori Yagi, as a friend of your husband, a fellow coworker and a person who has a weak spot for children, came around every so often to see Ren. But mostly to let you know of the current rumours concerning both of you. Toshinori was never good to keep his mouth shut. 

"Young Midoriya is concerned about Aizawa (Y/N)-san, and young Iida wants to know if Aizawa (Shouta)-san will keep teaching homeroom like normal or if he has to make up for that period again. And young Uraraka wants to know if the two of you have a history together…' Shouta can only roll his eyes. 

"I won't tell my students about my personal life!" he exclaims finally, making you laugh a bit. Ren has been a little bit better today, but the doctors told you that maybe some time home, or around his parents would be a good idea, changing the air and everything. 

"I wouldn't mind if they knew, they're good kids…" anyways, Shouta can't stop you from bringing Ren to school until he gets better, and he knows it. 

                                                    (...)

Has a teacher, you were not supposed to have preferences in your students. But boy oh boy was Mirio making it hard, pampering your kid like that. Ren was having the time of his life sitting on the boy's laps, listening to his mom giving class. Naturally, Ren was a shy but energic kid, he liked to play alone and run around, but Mommy had told him that if he was a good boy today, they would get Daddy to buy Vanilla Ice Cream ͭ ͫ  . Even Hound Dog (and that was saying something) had praised your boy on his excellent behaviour. Ren was more than ready to go see his dad, at the end of the day, to tell him that he had been a good boy, so he deserved this ice cream. 

What was not the surprise when your little boy got out of your grip to run up to Shouta screaming the only name he knew him under, making a tone of students stares. "DADDY!" Shouta caught the little boy, dad mode engaged, but after realization, his eyes went to you, whose cheeks were as red as his under all of his hair and bandages. Now, that would be hard to prove wrong to all of the students. You can hear Mirio laugh from the end of the hall and Midoriya's exclamation of surprise at the name. While Ren doesn't seem to care, you can only smile bashfully at your husband and walk toward him. 

"Ice Gream!" squeals your son when you take him back into your arms. 

"Dad has to pack up his thing before we can leave, okay, Ren?" say Shouta lightly, but even the students can hear him and nearly all faint from the drastic change. 

[chimchimsauce]

Hit or Miss (2)

In a desperate attempt to rebuke the advances of her overly energetic coworker, YN asks her quiet roommate Jungkook to pretend to be her boyfriend until Taehyung lays off. But YN comes to realize that there’s more to the quiet man than she could have ever imagined.

I guess they never miss, huh?

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Chapter One

Chapter Two - Take My Hands Now

Jungkook sleeps through the rest of the day, forcing YN to go to work on Tuesday without getting her story straight with him. She's half afraid that Jungkook's texted her coworker in the middle of the night and told him to clown her, but thankfully that doesn't seem to be the case. When Taehyung shows up for his shift partway through hers, YN is greeted with a preppy smile and his usual greetings minus the overly affectionate pet names. He doesn't try to speak much to her at all, never purposefully seeking her out or lurking near the shelves she has to restock. It's so peaceful that YN actually enjoys her shift, finding herself humming along quietly to songs she's heard on the radio as she files books according to the Dewey decimal system.

She's almost sad when her shift is over and she has to head to class. By the time her two-hour lecture is over, she's convinced her stomach is seconds away from consuming her liver, the anxiety caused by the fake boyfriend situation having prevented her from eating anything since her lunch break yesterday.

Almost as if he knew what she was thinking, YN receives a text from Jungkook as she leaves her classroom.

Hey, wanna grab lunch? We need to talk about this boyfriend thing

Above this text, there are only a couple more messages, most of them where YN had asked Jungkook to pick up toilet paper or groceries.

Yeah, sounds good. I just got out of class, where do you wanna meet?

His reply is instantaneous.

Einstein Bagels?

I'll be there in ten.

The restaurant is relatively empty, as it's after the typical lunch hour rush. Besides Jungkook, there's only one other patron in the store, a petite girl with airpods in and an open notebook out in front of her. YN figures it's relatively safe to talk here. She makes her way to the table her roommate is sitting at, noticing how absolutely stunning he looks. YN's steps falter until she's standing still ten feet away from him.

How had she never noticed before?

Sunlight streams in through the open window he sits beside, casting shadows on his face. His eyes are closed as he taps a pencil on the table to the beat of the song he's listening to through a single earbud stuck in his right ear. His left leg is bent, toe of expensive looking, white Nike sneakers pressed flat against the dingy linoleum while his right is fully expended, incredibly well-fitting jeans emphasizing his legs beautifully. A plain white t-shirt is tucked into his pants and secured with a simple black belt.

He's chewing on his bottom lip slightly before his eyes flick open and he looks at her, startling her out of her daze. Ignoring the question in his eyes, YN takes her seat across from him, placing her bag down.

"I'll go order first then we can talk, okay?" she says, moving to stand back up.

"Don't worry about it, I already ordered,"

"How'd you know what I wanted?"

"Who do you think tosses the old sandwiches from this place?"

"Oh," YN says, awkwardly settling back in.

"So?"

"So . . .,"

A beat of silence passes.

"You don't have any plan, do you?"

"No, not really," YN says, slumping down and sighing, "I'm so sorry about this, I shouldn't have gotten you involved. Just tell Taehyung I was lying to him and spare yourself,"

"Nah," Jungkook says, "It's too late now, I'm already involved. Even if I were to say that you're lying, Tae'd give me hell for it. Since your little lie has pretty much ruined my chances of going out and getting a real girlfriend, I'll just have to settle for you instead,"

"Excuse you?" YN says, a quick flash of hurt sparking in her.

"I don't do things halfway. Since you told Taehyung I'm your boyfriend now, I'm your boyfriend now,"

"Seriously?" YN says, not believing the words coming from his mouth are real.

"Seriously,"

"But you don't know anything about me,"

Jungkook raises an eyebrow but before he can retaliate, their order is called, Jungkook standing up to retrieve it. YN would be lying if she said she didn't watch him as he left.

He has a nice butt.

"I don't know why you think that," Jungkook says, placing her food in front of it.

It the same thing she always orders from here. He even ordered her favorite soda.

"I mean I've lived with you for two semesters. I know quite a lot about you,"

"Like what?" YN says, skeptical.

They've spoken more in the last twenty-four hours than the last eight months.

"You always sing when you're in the shower. You're cold even when it's sixty-five degrees. Your socks don't match, you can't cook for anything, you play with your hair when you're nervous, you like books more than people, you -"

"Okay, okay!" YN says, watching the smug look on Jungkook's face grow wider, "I got it,"

Jungkook unwraps his sandwich and takes a large bite.

"Since you've practically ignored my entire existence and lied to my friend about dating me, I think you owe me this much at least,"

Feeling guilty and having no real other option, YN sighs.

"Okay. Okay, whatever you say,"

"Great, then let's go," Jungkook says, standing abruptly and shoving the rest of his sandwich down his throat.

"Go where? I haven't even started my food!" YN says, picking up her meal quickly as Jungkook takes her by the arm and drags her outside, "Jungkook! Where are we going?"

"You're going to meet my friends. Taehyung already opened his fat mouth and told everybody and they’ve been blowing up my phone all day pestering me,”

“But!” YN says, stumbling over her feet slightly, “What am I going to say to them?”

She’s panicking slightly. In between all of her shifts and study sessions, she’s forgotten how not to be totally awkward in social situations.

“Just be natural!” he says, briefly turning towards her and flashing her a gorgeous smile, “They’re gonna love you!”

“I sure do,” he finishes quietly, speaking under his breath.

In ten minutes or so, the couple arrives at a building YN’s never been to before, giant windows displaying various people in soundproof rooms, singing or playing some sort of instrument.

“This is the music building,” Jungkook explains, politely opening the door for her.

Cool air rushes forward and cools her slightly sweaty face. Running and heat are never a good combination.

“Do you play?” she asks, looking around the hallway in interest.

There are several framed photographs of what appear to be large scale performances, several hundred people watching various displays of talent. There’s a large trophy case with dozens or golden prizes and ribbons inside, even a couple of dried flowers shoved between the shelves.

“Oh my God, is that you?” YN asks, letting go of Jungkook’s hand and pressing her nose onto the glass.

The photograph in particular she’s looking at shows her new boyfriend sitting on a stool, microphone in hand while a few other people stand behind him, holding instruments.

“Yeah, that was my freshman year. My friends and I managed to win the state competition for best new band,”

“Oh wow, you must be good then,” YN says, backing away from the case and smiling at him.

Handsome and talented? Maybe this lie will turn out to be a good thing.

Jungkook chuckles.

“We’re alright, I guess,”

“Alright?” a new voice interjects, causing the duo to turn around, “We’re hella good, mate, don’t sell us short,”

At the girl’s obvious look of confusion, the new man smiles brightly.

“I’m Hoseok, one of this dumbass’ friends, but you can call me Hobi,”

Hobi stands tall with straight shoulders and a bright, heart-shaped smile revealing identical dimples in his cheeks. His hair is a bizarre shade of orange, but it suits his caramel skin tone quite well.

“Hey!” Jungkook protests.

“Nice to meet you, Hobi!” YN says, the man’s bright demeanor making her feel comfortable instantly.

“You too, doll. Hey, J.K., why didn’t you tell me she was so pretty?”

YN blushes, not expecting the compliment.

“Thank you,”

“Watch it,” Jungkook jokingly threatens, resuming his pace.

YN and Hoseok follow along, all three of them falling into a simple but funny conversation. By the time they arrive at a closed wooden door, YN’s nearly in stitches from how hard she’s laughing at one of Hobi’s stories. Tears are welling up in her eyes when the door swings open to reveal a short man with his hand on his hip, looking slightly annoyed.

“Took you long enough,” he says, glaring at Jungkook before breaking into a bright smile as he meets YN’s gaze.

“Hi! I’m Jimin! Kookie’s told us a lot about you,” he says, flicking his pitch black hair out of his eyes and revealing a pair of silver dangly earrings.

“He has?” she asks, slightly confused.

Jimin’s expression changes quickly.

“Well not a ton but enough for us to make him drag you here,” he pauses for a moment, “Come in, come in!”

Jimin steps to the side and the three of them enter, YN placing her food down on a table by the door. There’s one more man inside, one even shorter than Jimin, whose earbuds are shoved in his ears, blonde head bopping slowly as he scribbles on a large legal pad.

“Yoongi!” Jimin shouts, unsuccessfully attempting to grab his attention.

“Yoongi!” Hoseok shouts, tossing a pencil at him.

The man looks incredibly annoyed when he looks up but quickly loses that expression when he notices the stranger in their midsts. He pulls the earbuds out of his ears.

“You’re YN, right?”

His voice is considerably lower than she expected to come from such a little man.

“Ah, yeah. I’m Jungkook’s girlfriend,”

It feels bizarre to say that.

“I know. I’m glad you could make it,”

“Me too,” YN says, even though she’s not exactly sure what she’s made it to.

“Is Taehyung coming?” Jimin asks.

“Nah, he’s got work today,” Hobi says, grabbing an electric blue sitting on the stadium bleachers in the room.

YN frowns slightly. Usually, Taehyung doesn’t work this shift at the library.

“Does he have another job?” she asks, sitting down a bit away from Hobi and unwrapping her sandwich.

“Ah, yeah,” Yoongi says, standing and placing his legal pad down.

“You boys ready?” Jungkook says, picking up a microphone from the wall.

“Yup, let’s go!”

YN spends the next hour and a half being absolutely blown away. Hoseok was right, Jungkook did sell their band short. She completely understands how they were able to win at the state level. Each one of them is incredibly talented. Jungkook sings the lead vocals, assisted by Jimin. Hoseok plays every note on the guitar perfectly and Yoongi’s piano is nearly enough to bring her to tears. At first glance, YN would have expected them to be a more traditional band, but most of the songs they play are slow and soulful, nearly erotic. Any fun loving personalities they previous had have been completely masked by a sure, nearly painful persona, the look in Jungkook’s eyes causing YN’s skin to erupt in goosebumps. When they finish rehearsal, YN is shell shocked.

“So,” Jungkook begins, slightly out of breath, “What did you think?”

“What did I - you’re amazing! So amazing, what the heck! All of you are so talented, oh my God,” YN says, addressing all of them.

“Thank you!” they all chorus.

As Jungkook and YN are walking back to their apartment, neither of them having any more classes for the day, YN can’t help but stare at him in shock.

“What?” he asks, turning around and walking backward.

“I just . . . why did you agree to go along with my stupid lie? You’re actually so amazing. I don’t get it,”

“Amazing? How?”

“Are you being serious?” YN asks, flabbergasted, “You’re incredibly attractive, you dress like a model, and your voice is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I really don’t get it, you should take laughed in my face as soon as I asked you about dating me,”

Jungkook stops so abruptly that YN bumps into his chest.

“What?” she asks, surprised by the look on his face.

“Don’t say that,” his voice deadly serious.

YN is silent, not quite sure how to react.

“I have a confession to make. I agreed to date you because I like you,”

“Me? Why?” YN asks, genuinely confused.

He’s at least four points more attractive than she is, hands down. She doesn’t do anything remotely interesting. She’s not even good at keeping their house clean.

“Why does anybody like anybody? I just do,”

“Okay,” YN says, not really believing him.

“Give me your hands,”

“What?”

Jungkook extends both of his hands, palm up.

“Take my hands now,”

Slowly glancing between his hands and his face, YN reaches out, laying her palms on top of his.

“Don’t worry, I’ll prove it to you,”

Chapter Three

[lamiasluck]

A Kiss for Good Luck

Summary: The Host decides to write more stories to tell on his radio show. Unfortunately for him, writer's block takes its toll and he struggles to write his vision. So he needs to take a break. Fortunately for him, Eric gladly accompanies him in his endeavours!

Ship: Eric Derekson/The Host

Words: 1565

Tags: @bingiplierdaily

Read on AO3!

-

The Host nearly growled out of frustration as he crumpled up another piece of parchment and threw it in the garbage. Judging by the almost full trash can, he was having a slow writing day. He’s officially run out of stories to tell for his radio show and was frantic to write more material.

While the Host thought his writing endeavour would be simple and like any other story, he couldn’t be more wrong. For once the man that was known for controlling fates couldn’t control his writer’s block. It made no sense, he created a plot outline, wrote many mystery novels like his current project, and could even envision the damn scene clearly in his mind. So why couldn’t he write down this scene onto paper?

A heavy sigh could be heard as the Host dropped his pen in favour of holding his head in his hands. Maybe he should take a break to help collect his barings.

Luckily for the distraught Host, he heard the sound of the library doors open and soon after, Eric walked in his office with a smile. He came with an offering of fresh ink and paper. The Host was quite old fashioned with the mediums he worked with, Eric argued that it gave his work a pleasant aesthetic.  

As Eric set down the materials next to the Host, he couldn’t help but notice the state of his boyfriend.

“How’s writing going? Still stuck on a scene?” Eric asked with furrowed brows.

“Yes, unfortunately,” the Host responded. “The Host questions why he decided to add a romance subplot in the first place. The Host always struggles with them.”

“Well… Well it’s good to experiment, right?”

“The Host supposes so.” He ran a hand through his hair as he leaned back in his chair. “The story relies mostly on the murder-mystery aspects, yet here he is… Focusing on the minute details.”

Eric hummed in understanding. “It’s alright, you still have lots of time,” he reassured. “What’re you writing about anyways?”

The Host was writing a murder mystery. It was a convenient way to focus on character dynamics, though that was the aspect he was stuck on. Out of five characters, the Host found himself stumped on writing two. A couple to be exact. The pair of unfortunate lovers were supposed to be scared of their circumstances while also wary of each other’s innocence. Most importantly, they needed to find clarity in each other’s embrace during such trying times.

But the Host couldn’t find the right words, the right emotions, to convey his idea properly.

“Maybe I can help?” He looked at the various papers spread out on the Host’s desk. His boyfriend was always the master of organized chaos. Perhaps he could get a better sense of the situation if he knew the ending. “Who’s the killer anyways? The couple?”

There was a moment of silence as the Host pondered about what Eric asked. It made sense, if they were on the same page then surely they could solve the problem quicker. “The Host does not want to spoil the ending. This problem will pass soon, hopefully.” He was always a stubborn man, however.

“But I want, I-I wanna help you,” Eric whined and pouted. The Host couldn’t help but coo affectionately at his boyfriend’s reaction, barely containing a quiet laugh as Eric pouted more.

“For now,” the Host stood up and walked towards Eric. “the Host needs a break. Eric can help by relaxing with him.”

Eric blushed as the Host pressed a quick kiss on his forehead, his pout replaced with a smile. He mindlessly glanced at the Host’s lips as he pulled away, a matching smile dawning his face. The Host continued to narrate their surroundings as they walked out of his office. Eric found himself following the words as they left the omnipotent man’s lips. He quickly averted his eyes before the Host could notice, looking around the library as if he’s never seen a bookshelf before.

The Host lead him by the hand to the main library, fully set on reading with his boyfriend. Well, it was more like Eric reading and him jotting down story ideas he thought of in his notebook. He truly had no off switch, but at least he wasn’t stressing himself out this time. The two were sitting by one of the library’s tables. Their chairs were so close together, Eric might as well have been sitting on the Host’s lap.

For once, Eric managed to find a book for himself. He was in a sappy mood, so a nice romance novel seemed to be the right choice. Though he had a hard time focusing on the book.

He’s been thinking about his relationship with the Host lately. Only good things, of course, but he’s been wondering if they should take matters further. The pace they were taking their relationship was comfortable, but for once he wanted to step out of his comfort zone. However, he had no clue how to ask for more. The Host wouldn’t get mad at him for wanting more, right?

Long story short, Eric just wanted to kiss the Host. Or have the Host kiss him… he wasn’t that good at initiating romantic gestures.

“Eric has been staring at that page for five minutes.” The Host interrupted his thoughts. “Is he alright?”

“Um…!” He jumped from his seat and faced the Host. “I-I’m, uh, yeah I’m good! Be-Beyond good.”

The Host wasn’t buying his performance. “Clearly not,” He spoke with a soft, concerned voice. “Eric does not need to tell the Host what’s wrong, but please, let him help.”

Eric could feel his face blush more as the Host reached over to hold his hand. The tension between the two of them was strangling, rendering both speechless. The Host realized that his boyfriend couldn’t find the right words to say, so he began to quietly narrate to himself. Eric didn’t stop him. If anything, the timid man accidentally glanced at the Host's lips again and caused himself to blush a deeper shade of red.

“Eric wants the Host to kiss him..?”

His boyfriend nodded silently, getting his handkerchief out of his pocket to cover his face. “I didn’t, I-I didn’t wanna bother you. ‘M sorry…” His voice was muffled by the cloth.

“Eric is never a bother to the Host,” he laughed lightly as he moved the handkerchief away from Eric’s face, revealing his flustered boyfriend. “They have been dating for quite some time now, he is more than free to make such requests.”

A gentle hand reached over to cup Eric’s face. The timid man squeaked as the Host shifted closer to his face. The Host’s next words were barely above a hushed whisper.

“The Host is happy to oblige~”

The space between them closed as the Host leaned over to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Eric quickly screwed his eyes shut, unsure of what to do. Thankfully, the Host had no problem guiding the situation. He made sure not to overwhelm Eric, slowing kissing him and making sure he was comfortable.

After a few seconds the Host pulled away from the other. He was quick to mumble his narrations again to make sure Eric was feeling alright. To his relief, Eric was more than alright. The image of his boyfriend looking absolutely love-struck filled his head, mouth slightly ajar and eyes widened.

“Cute…” His boyfriend ducked his head at the Host’s sudden praise. “Was that what Eric wanted?”

Another silent nod, though this time Eric was exponentially happier. The Host reached over to hold Eric’s hand again, smiling when Eric responded by burying his head in the crook of his neck and cuddling him. Their positioning was a bit awkward with the both of them sitting side by side and hugging. Luckily the Host thought of a solution.

Eric yelped as he was pulled onto the Host's lap, resulting in Eric straddling him. While surprised, Eric didn’t mind the closeness. Though he did fake pout at the Host’s smug face and was quick to hide in the crook of the Host’s neck again.

“Hopefully this chair can support both Eric and the Host’s weight.” He smiled as he felt Eric giggle against his neck. Besides the constant white noise of his narration, it was silent. Both revelled in their peaceful surroundings, enjoying their comfortable embrace.

The Host was able to push aside his worries for once, instead focusing on keeping Eric close. His mind wasn’t buzzing with stories nor was it convoluted with the future. The present was a welcome luxury when he was with Eric. It was quite a feat, managing to ground the omnipotent man in reality. All was clear.

Wait, this situation seemed familiar…

“The…” He laughed quietly out of disbelief. “The Host figured out how to solve his story plothole…!”

“Really?” Eric questioned as he lifted his head.

“Yes, he knows how to write the couple’s emotions now!” The Host didn’t bother trying to hide his excitement. He’s been working on this story for hours.

“That’s good! How’d you figure it out?”

“Well, the Host supposes he just needed a break.” He cupped the side of Eric’s face, his boyfriend leaned into the touch. Best to keep the real answer to himself for now. He’s flustered Eric enough.

Actually, once more wouldn’t hurt.

“May the Host kiss Eric again?”

[golbrocklovely]

only the lonely survive // colby brock - chapter one: just another la devotee

A/N: so... I’ve had this story in my head for a long time, and now I’m finally posting it! I have a bunch of chapters already written, but I’m gonna be posting the first two just so ppl can get a read for them and see if they like them. and if i get some good feedback, i’ll post weekly :)

here’s the description of the story

trigger warning: swearing

word count: 1766

DAY: 1/14

"Are you sure you have everything?" My mom asked, standing in between me and the front door. 

I rolled my eyes, "Yes mom. I literally went over this with you last night. I've been packed for, like, three days now."

She sighed, smiling. "I know, I just don't want you to leave yet. I can't believe I'm not gonna see you for two whole weeks. How will I survive?"

"You'll be fine, trust me. Besides, this is like a trial run to see what it will be like when I actually move out to LA." I stated, grabbing my bags and pulling them closer to me.

"That's not funny, Skylar." Her voice was deadpan. Oh no, not this again.

"I wasn't trying to be, Mother." I remarked, my voice the same as hers.

She exhaled, "Let's not argue before you leave. We'll talk about it when you get home though."

"That's fine with me." I smirked. Then, I heard my phone vibrate. I looked down at it, seeing I had a new message from Casey.

 Casey: ayeee bitch im here leTS GOOOOO

 I chuckled and then looked at my mom, nodding my head. I opened my arms to her, and she smiled sadly. We embraced, hugging as hard as we could. As much as I couldn't wait to leave, I'm still going to miss my mom.

"Text me when you land, okay? Make sure to call me every night, or as often as you want. Whatever hour, it doesn't matter." She whispered.

"I will, Mom," I said pulling away from her. "I love you."

"I love you too, Skye." She leaned in and kissed my cheek. I grabbed my bags and opened the door, seeing Casey in her red Jeep. She waved at my mom.

"Have fun! Don't do anything too crazy! Make sure to use protection!" My mom yelled.

I groaned. "Would you like to yell that to the whole neighborhood?"

"I meant sunblock, not condoms. But now that I'm saying it, maybe don't use too much protection. Ya looking a little pale, and I want grand kids anyway." She laughed.

I snorted, "Bye mom!"

"Bye honey!" She grinned, slowly closing the door.

I rolled my bags over to the car, opening the backseat's door. I threw my luggage in, closed the door, and then opened the passenger side. I huffed, winded from how heavy my bags were.

"Did you bring your whole closet?" Casey asked.

"Just about." I sighed, jumping into the car.

"By the way, I fucking love your mom." She giggled.

Starting up the car, the radio turned on. Panic! At The Disco's 'LA Devotee' started playing. It must have been from Casey's playlist, specifically made from our trip to LA.

After a moment of silence, I smiled. "Oh my God, we're actually going to LA. Like, this is happening."

We both looked at each other. Then we screamed excitedly.

"I have been waiting so fucking long for this to happen!" She yelled, turning up the music.

"You're telling me! The fact that we are actually leaving Philly and going all the way across the country to fucking Los Angeles... is fucking mind blowing. Like, I can't believe it. Why did it take us so long?" I sighed.

We both sighed and nodded our heads at each other, "School."

"If only we could have graduated sooner." I stated, shrugging my shoulders.

"If only we had met sooner." She smirked. I smiled back at her.

Casey and I hadn't been friends that long, only three years. We met because we both went to the same college. I was in the theater program working on my acting abilities, while she was taking dance. We ended up meeting because we both got into the same musical - 42nd Street. If you've never heard of that show, that's understandable. It's old as hell, but honestly still a good musical.

Casey is originally from Florida, while I've always lived in Pennsylvania. We connected with each other because we were both the outcasts. I was always overlooked, not for lack of talent but I'm overshadowed easily. She, however, is amazing at dance and always picked first. This caused a lot of jealousy to be thrown her way, but she took it like a champ.

We also have a lot of the same interest - youtubers to be exact. While we both love the bigger influencers, like Shane Dawson and Jenna Marbles, we also love a lot of relatively smaller ones. Like, the Trap House for instance. We talk about the guys a lot, especially Sam and Colby. I mean, I do most of the talking while she just listens.

Because of them, we started youtube channels. We're pretty popular on there, having both around 500+ subs. She does dance videos, while I do random covers, Q and As, and just whatever I can think of.

"So, explain to me again why we didn't have to pay for a place to stay at?" I asked, turning my head towards Casey.

"My uncle owns a bunch of properties out in LA and he turns them into AirBnbs so I asked if I could 'rent' one for two weeks and he was cool with it." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Thank God you have a rich uncle because otherwise I don't think I could have afforded this trip." I groaned, annoyed.

"What? You mean making eight dollars an hour can't afford you the luxury of living in LA?" She snorted.

I fumed, "No bitch. I can barely afford ramen at this point, and that shits three for a dollar."

"Don't get your panties in a twist now. We both got enough for the trip, and my uncle also stocked the house with food, so we'll have some when we get there. Plus, he's lending me his car for the time being too, so transportation won't be the biggest bitch." She responded.

"Why does everyone have a rich uncle but me?" I mumbled. She slapped my leg and laughed. I giggled back at her.

/  /  /  /

"Skye, Skye... Skye wake up!" Casey whispered, loudly into my ear.

I jolted awake, glaring at her immediately. She snickered back at me.

A muffled voice came over the loudspeaker, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will be landing in Los Angeles in 15 minutes. The temperature right now is a cool 75 degrees. It is currently 2:38 pm. On behalf of me and the crew, thank you for flying American Airways and enjoy the rest of your day."

"Oh shit we're already here?" I asked, shifting myself in my seat.

"Yeah, the moment we got off the ground, you went out like a light." She replied.

"Well, I'm sorry but waking up at the ass crack of dawn isn't something I usually do so I'm little tired." I retorted.

"Yeah whatever. Oh, so you know, we don't have to get a cab anymore to get to the house. I have some friends out here and one of them is gonna pick us up from the airport. He's leaving right now." She stated.

I nodded my head, "Oh that's good. I remember you telling me about your friends, but like, you never went into detailed of who they are."

"The one that's picking us up is an old friend from Florida. We used to live next door to each other until he moved out to LA and I left to go to school in Philly." Casey explained, grabbing her carry-on bag and putting her phone inside of it.

"What does he do?" I questioned.

"Uh... he does youtube and he's a dancer, like myself. He's the one that got me into dance to be honest." She explained, shrugging her shoulders.

"Oh wow, I must meet him then. Without you being a dancer, I never would have met you." I smirked.

She laughed. "How much would your life suck if I wasn't in it?"

"Honestly I would be better off." I joked.

The plane soon landed. After getting our stuff and rushing out, we went and got our luggage.

Casey had told me she had been to LA multiple times, mostly to come visit this friend of hers that lives here. She told me that he has a bunch of roommates that we will probably meet at some point during our stay.

After waiting outside for ten minutes, Casey started to get impatient.

"Ugh, where is he?" Casey groaned, tapping her foot on the ground and looking out into the street.

"Didn't you say he was leaving for us while we were still in the air? Shouldn't he be here by now?" I replied, leaning against my luggage.

"Traffic in LA is a bitch..." She mumbled back.

We both looked down the street, car after car after car passing us. None of them were him apparently.

"Oh shit there he is!" She yelled, pointing at a black car come toward us.

I squinted, trying to see who was driving. I shrugged and grabbed my bags, turning my back to the car pulling up next to us. I grabbed my phone and sent my mom a quick text saying I had landed. She would have been pissed if I didn't say something to her soon.

"It's so good to see you! What's it been, like a year, since I last saw you?" Casey shouted.

I turned around to see Casey hugging the person, their back to me. He was kind of shortish, even though he was still taller than me. He had his hair in a short ponytail. He was wearing a sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers.

"Let me introduce you to Skye." Casey said, pointing at me. Her friend then turned around.

My eyes widened. I shook my head, trying to look away and play off the fact that I knew who her friend was.

"Skye, this is Corey. Corey, Skye." She smirked.

"It's nice to meet you Skye." Corey replied, sticking his hand out.

"Uh, it's nice to meet you too. T-thank you so much for picking us up." I stuttered, shaking his hand.

"No problem. Sorry I'm late though, traffic has been backed up for like the last five miles. Here, let me take your bags." He slowly took my bags from me and popped his trunk, putting them in.

I turned to Casey. "We are having a serious talk when we get to the house."

"What's there to talk about?" She joked. She turned towards the car and got into the passenger side. I rolled my eyes, getting into the backseat.

| CHAPTER 2 >>

[mxliv-oftheendless]

Black Dahlia (Chapter 1)

-blows trumpet- Bum-ba-da-dum-bum-bum-BAH! Here it is, the main story of the Black Dahlia series! I am honestly so proud of myself, because I waited until I had it all written out before I posted it; it took me ALL DAMN SUMMER, but it’s finally done! I know it’s basically Scooby Doo and KISS: Rock N Roll Mystery with an added character, but I’ve taken the time to flesh out Black Dahlia’s character a bit. Hope you enjoy! 

She could hear the flowers as she filled up her watering can. They didn’t have a voice in the traditional sense, in that they formed words, but they had a voice of sorts, and that was what she heard.

“It’s all right,” she said aloud as she turned off the water. “I’m coming,”

She knew they couldn’t hear her. Once upon a time, they could… but not anymore. She couldn’t hear them as well, either. Once she could hear them as plainly as she heard everyone else. But as time passed, and as she aged, the voices faded, until they were only a faint whisper.

She went around her house, watering the various plants. Along the way she passed her radio, which had beside it a whole shelf lined with CDs. She paused at her shelf, smiling fondly at her music collection. Earth definitely had produced many amazing rock bands. They all reminded her of the music of home.

She was just finishing when the doorbell rang. She put down her watering can, went to the door, and opened it. Standing on her front porch were four young adults and a Great Dane. 

“Hey, Aunt Heather!” Fred greeted her. 

Heather McMann smiled. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite nephew!”

“I’m your only nephew,” Fred reminded her, still grinning. They did this exchange whenever they met.

“Exactly. C’mere, you!”

Heather hugged Fred tightly, then turned to the others. “Hey, kids. And hello, Scooby,”

“Hi, Miss McMann,” Velma said respectfully. “It’s great to see you,”

Heather shook her head as she ushered them inside. “Velma, what have I said about calling me ‘Miss McMann’?”

“Like, that it makes you feel old,” Shaggy piped up helpfully.

“Reah, rold,” Scooby agreed.

Heather pointed at them and nodded. “Exactly,”

“Well, you look great,” Daphne interjected. The redhead looked to be in an exceptionally good mood today.

Heather grinned and flicked a lock of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “Of course I do, honey,” 

Once the gang had settled down at her kitchen table with drinks, and Shaggy and Scooby had raided her fridge (she made a mental note to go grocery shopping soon), Heather popped open her can of Lacroix and asked, “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from my favorite nephew and his friends?”

“Well—” Fred began, but Daphne interrupted, so excited her words came out in a rush.

“WegotacallfromKISSWorldtocomesolveamysteryandwewantedtoknowifyou’dcomewithus!”

Heather paused and looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “… Run that by me again? And slower, please,”

Daphne took a sip of her drink to calm herself, then repeated what she said. “We got a call from KISS World to come solve a mystery, and we wanted to know if you would come with us,”

Heather tilted her head curiously. “KISS World?”

Velma shrugged. “Apparently, KISS has an entire theme park,”

“Oh, I know, Velma,” She had heard about it when it opened, but had never conjured up the guts to go. It was probably overpriced, anyway. “But I didn’t think there would be any problems at KISS World. Aren’t they having a Halloween concert there?”

She never dared venture out of her house on Halloween. Not when a certain being could show up…

Daphne nodded. “Yeah, they are. That’s why they called us. If we don’t solve the mystery, the concert could be canceled!”

Heather raised her eyebrows. “Now that is a catastrophe,” she agreed. She hated it as much as anyone when a rock concert had to be canceled. But she had the feeling Daphne was a bit more concerned about a KISS concert being canceled. “So you’re going, I’m guessing?”

Shaggy swallowed the bite of his snack and nodded. “Like, yeah, of course we are! It’s KISS, man! What more reason do ya need?”

Heather smiled and toasted him with her can. “Too true, my man. But why do you want me to come along with you?”

“Well, you do love KISS,” Velma reasoned. “A lot. Why do you love them so much, anyway?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Heather glanced over at her CDs, most of which were indeed KISS albums. Her smile turned wistful for a moment. Then she shrugged. “I just do, Velma. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Well…” Fred said sheepishly. “… You’ve only left your house on Halloween once, and that was to take me trick-or-treating when I was ten. And we haven’t hung out in a while, plus you said a while ago it’s been ages since you’ve been to a rock concert. I just thought maybe, you could come with us, and after we solve the mystery, we could all go to the concert?”

Heather stared at him for a second. Then she smiled. Fred may have been a little odd with his obsession with traps and horrible acapella bands, but dang if he wasn’t the sweetest. He got it from his mother. “Aw, Freddy!” she cooed, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “That’s so sweet of you!”

“So you’ll go?” Shaggy asked eagerly.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go somewhere on Halloween, just once. Maybe it would turn out okay. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The gang cheered, and Heather laughed.

Maybe it would turn out okay…

-KISSTERIA-

And that was how Heather McMann found herself sitting with Shaggy and Scooby in the back of the Mystery Machine as it rolled down the highway, with a black box of green face paint and a brush in her hands.

“Okay, Scooby, you ready?”

Scooby nodded happily. “Ruh-huh!”

“Okay, hold still,”

Heather dipped her brush into the green paint and began to paint the area around Scooby’s eyes green. The whole gang, except for Fred, had decided to dress up as KISS; Daphne was Starchild, Shaggy was Demon, Velma was Spaceman, and Scooby, in the funniest twist of irony, was Catman. Fred flat-out refused to dress up, saying he didn’t want to look stupid. Heather had refused as well, and currently wore her very ordinary outfit of black Converse, white washed jeans, a plain red shirt and her favorite black leather jacket. As usual, her pendant shaped like a black dahlia flower hung around her neck.

“Daphne, sweetie, you sure you don’t want me to draw the star?” Heather called.

“No thanks, I’m good,” Daphne replied, and returned to sketching the outline of a star over her right eye.

“Like, I can’t believe we get to go to KISS World!” Shaggy exclaimed excitedly as Heather finished on Scooby’s face. He gave her a lick on the cheek in thanks.

“And solve a mystery,” Velma added. “That’s like killing two birds with one stone!”

Scooby popped up, eager to show off his finished makeup. “Reah! Or two birds rith one cat!”

Heather laughed as she moved up to sit with Velma in the backseat. “It’s awesome to see you guys so excited,”

“Like, you look excited, too, Heather,” Shaggy commented.

Heather kept smiling. If she were to be honest, she was excited. She hadn’t left her house on Halloween in years, and now here she was, going to see the boys in concert. Almost exactly like the good old days…

“Personally, I find their sideshow act a little juvenile,” Velma stated. “But my mother told me to take a more active role in my friends’ interests.” She shrugged sheepishly at Heather. “Sorry, Heather.”

Heather shook her head. “It’s fine, Velma. We’re all interested in different things.”

“Well, I’m pretty interested in Starchild,” Daphne piped up. Her star was almost completely colored in. “He’s so dreamy,” she sighed as she went back to painting.

Heather saw Fred’s head turn slightly to glance at her, then he jerked the steering wheel to the left. The van immediately swerved left, throwing them all to the side, and causing Daphne’s brush to jerk away, leaving a black streak across her face.

“Hey!” Daphne protested.

“Sorry, everyone,” Fred apologized, though he didn’t sound sincere.

Daphne pointed her finger accusingly at him. “You did that on purpose!”

Shaggy looked at her black streak and laughed. “Like now it looks like a shooting star. Make a wish, Scoob!”

“Uh, I wish I was eating a Scooby Snack!” Scooby said cheerfully.

“Good one, dude. Uh, I wish I could breathe fire like the Demon!” Shaggy stuck out his tongue and pretended to breathe fire.

Amused, Heather put a finger to her cheek and played along. “Hmm… I wish my bluebells would listen when I tell them to grow. They’ve been real stubborn lately.”

“I wish you’d all come to your senses,” Fred said to them. “You don’t see me acting ridiculous over my favorite group, the Ascot Five, do you?” He reached into the glove compartment and took out a CD, showing five men wearing white shirts and ascots smiling cheesy smiles.

Heather rolled her eyes at her nephew as he loaded the CD into the CD player. He was literally dressed the same way as the guy in the center.

“Oh noooooo, don’t tug my ascot. Don’t tug my ascot (it’s not a scarf, no baby). You can’t have my ascot ‘cause girl, it’s mine.”

Shaggy and Scooby stuck out their tongues in disgust, while Heather’s face scrunched up as she tried to hide her disgust.  How can my own nephew like such a lame band?

Luckily, Daphne ejected the disc. “Fred, please,”

“I’m just saying,” Fred insisted, “I think they’re twice the band KISS is!”

“Fred, they’re a lame do-wop band from the sixties,” Heather deadpanned.

“Yeah, and do the Ascot Five have an awesome amusement park?” Shaggy asked pointedly.

“Reah, rawesome amusement park!” Scooby agreed.

“Quit being so stupid, Fred,” Daphne said snappishly to him.

“I am not being stupid!”

“Yes, you are!”

Heather leaned over into the front seat. “Okay, okay, that’s enough. Daphne, Fred doesn’t like KISS, and that’s fine. And Fred, it’s fine that you like the Ascot Five, just don’t judge the rest of us for liking KISS. All right?”

There was a brief moment of silence, then Fred and Daphne nodded.

Heather nodded, smiling. “Good.” She turned to Daphne. “We can fix the star, I think. Or you could be the Bandit. Starchild went by the Bandit for a while.”

Daphne turned to her curiously. “I didn’t know that,”

“You really know a lot about KISS,” Velma remarked.

“Yeah,” Shaggy agreed. “Like, how do you know so much about KISS, Heather?”

Heather smiled mysteriously at them, though internally she was hit by an onslaught of nostalgia. “That’s my little secret,” 

[har-rison-s]

Tiny Dancer - Five

A/N: Hope whoever's reading this is enjoying it. Personally, 40s Bucky is so sdnfsjfh cute, I can't. I try to write him as good and accurate as possible. English isn't my first language, so squint your eyes for any grammar mistakes/misspelling. Happy reading!

This is getting a little hard to write now. I hadn't calculated what writing this all out means.

The funeral was arranged by... someone, I don't know, I took the first company that came my way, I didn't really want anything to do with it. My father's death. If only I had any other relatives, except for my dad's brother who I rarely met, who could settle this all instead of me. 

My heritage had been confirmed. I had gained not only money from my father, but also his place in the family company. He produced musical instruments - guitars, violins, microphones, etc. And now I got his role - the owner - in it. I was somehow delighted for the first time since his death. I had the hands to do anything I wanted to. 

I actually still own the company, and I’m trying to change my employeés every time I change a city to live in. They never want to leave, and I know why, I perfectly understand. The money's good, you get bonus gifts and even failed-to-finish musical instruments and parts of them, everyone's nice to each other and the boss (me) is the best boss you could wish for. But it's crucial every few years. I could never tell anyone my secret, God knows what would happen. No one, absolutely no one, can know about my true nature and... fate, I guess. Forbidden.

I'm not even the front-woman of my father's and my company. It's my secretary. A woman who was born in 1920 and has been my secretary since I was... back from HYDRA, totally back. It was around the fourties, I think? Anyway...

Our house was empty since my father died. 

Silent. I hated it. I hated silence, always have. And it became my daily companion. Soon after I got so irritated and angry that I bought a radio, and I turned it on everytime I was home, or home alone, at that. I wasn’t exactly satisfied with what the programmes were giving me in terms of music, but as a silence-repellent, it worked very well.

Sixteen, owning a company, a house, attending school, dancing ballet in operas and living in a house alone. Mother died at giving birth, and father committed suicide, no other relatives known. Quite the package, wasn’t I? And to be alone in my pain and burdens was not easy to live with. Horrible to bear it.

I offered Steve to live in my house with me, so he nor I would live alone. I hated coming home to nobody, no one, nobody making any noise. When my father was around, he wasn’t making that much noise, but at least there was a sense of life in the house. And Steve was all alone too, no sisters or brothers and both his parents gone. Just like me. But Steve wouldn’t take up my offer. I asked him why.

“You’re living alone, too.” I say to him softly. We’re sitting on a park bench in the sunlight, still shining in September. We're glad it is, neither of us really miss the crispy winter air and coldness. Summer has been—in weather terms—very kind to us, blessed us with some days of joy at the seaside or Coney Island. 

Currently James is off to get us all ice cream. It's not quite the temperature for ice cream now, but where we are sitting, it feels like you're on a frying pan. And we'll be sitting here for a long time, at least until the sun sets. 

“Why wouldn’t you want to move in? It’s lonely.” I admit. “For the both of us.”

Steve sighs. “I’m certainly not the one you should be choosing to substitute your loneliness with.” He says and looks up at me with a faint smile. I give him one in return before looking down, realising what he means.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I admit. “But if I spend all my time with him, I will get tired of James, won’t I? And where would be the fun in that? I'd just get sick to my stomach if I have to see his face every morning that I wake up.”

We both chuckle. I'm joking, of course, and I think we're both laughing at the joke and the possibility of me getting sick of Bucky. That's where me and Steve meet. Humor. And, in later years, I found that motivational speaking was also a common thing for the both of us. 

“I bet.” He replies. “But I can’t move into your house.” The skinny teen shakes his head, looking down. “I don’t have any money to pay my half of the rent with.”

I roll my eyes in no seriousness and push his shoulder gently. Only slightly, cause I'm afraid if I push too hard, the fellow will just fall off the bench. “You won’t have to, Steve.” I say, leaning closer to him and searching his deep eyes. “The house was bought long ago, we don’t pay rent. Never have.” I state. Steve lets out an inaudible sigh, he knows I'm right and he should agree. “What is it, really? What’s the reason you won’t take my offer?” I ask, leaning back onto the wooden bench. It's already heated up from the few seconds my back wasn't leaning against it. “It’s the least I can do to help you. What if the neighbours find out you’re not eighteen? They’ll call the police and take you to a children’s home, what will you do then?” 

Steve hangs his head low. “Don’t do that, Scarlett.” He says. “That’s… That's emotional blackmail.” I can’t help but laugh at his use of words to describe my helpful offer. 

“No, it’s not!” I defend myself. “I’m trying to help you. Please, take my offer. I will feel hopeless otherwise. And rejected.” I show him fake puppy eyes and Steve only pushes me away.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Scarlett.” He says finally and looks up at me. “I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”

I huff and watch his eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes are sincere and true. Steve doesn’t lie. He’s always true to everyone, even if it hurts. This time ain’t no exception. He’s too good for his own good. And I understand why he won’t take my offer. It wouldn’t feel right. 

”Now, now, Stevie,” we hear Bucky's voice coming from the direction he disappeared into. We turn our heads to see him now with three ice cream ones in his hands instead of empty ones, “don't you go flirting with my girl.” 

I smile at him, taking the vanilla cone from his hand and trying not to be too obvious with the heat tainting my cheeks because of his nickname. My girl. Steve takes his ice cream from James, though the bigger boy challenges his friend a bit first. Steve gives him quite a sorry look and Bucky gives in, letting Steve take the cone.

”It's never too late to try.” Steve jokingly replies to his best friend and all of us laugh warm-heartedly. I try to think of something I could say while we admire and start to dig into our ice creams.

”Actually, you know what, James?” I start to say and he looks at me with raised eyebrows and a light brown brush on his nose. It made me giggle, but I didn't tell him until the very end of the evening that he had mushed his nose into his chocolate ice cream, “I'm gonna have to think our relationship over. Steve's quite the competition.” I say and raise my eyebrows, licking my ice cream. 

The two boys glance between each other, trying to understand if I'm serious or not—since I said it so matter-of-factly that anyone could believe I truly meant those words. But when a snort comes out of my mouth, they know I can't hold back laughing and so we all do. We laugh for such a long time that our stomachs start to hurt and our ice cream has almost melted completely.

Steve was really a righteous person. Never bended to anyone’s will, suffered even if he has a chance not to. What a weirdo, I thought when I first realised it. I was about eleven that time. Why wouldn’t you run from trouble? He was too self-righteous, I guess, never gave up on anything he thought was the right thing to do. He took pride in what he did, never realised that getting beat up in almost every Brooklyn alley wasn't a success. But, I liked his bravery and always admired the not giving up and standing his ground. Always thought that I lacked of those. 

Getting ready for my father’s funeral was no fun at all. I never liked wearing black clothes. They just felt heavy and I felt like they dragged me down. The colour is still dreadful to me. I like soft and light colours, flowery themes, all of that. I always dress that way, blouses, skirts and dresses. But black has never been my style.

I had one, the only one. A black dress with lace all over. It had sparkles, here and there because of the thirties fashion. It was uncomfortable. I mean, the fabric was alright and it wasn’t uncomfortably tighter anywhere. But it was just the porpose of the dress that made me uncomfortable.

My father’s funeral. And funerals in general. I promised myself then that this would be the only funeral I attend until my own. Who knows now if that will ever come around…

I hadn't decided what to do with my hair. Although there was this one hairstyle my classmate was wearing that I thought would be so beautiful with my own hair. She told me how to do it, and I wanted to make it someday for a special occasion. And I did. It was mine and James' first date. And then... when my father's funeral came around, I didn't know what to do with my hair.

I didn't want to leave it free-falling as I usually do, because, well, that's what I usually do. I didn't want to make a ponytail cause that wasn't the fashion then and it would be too casual. Braids... I thought about that. But eventually, at the last moment, I didn't have any other options except the hairstyle of the first date. I really didn't want to make it, because it used to remind me of such beautiful memories and moments and now it would only remind me of grief and death. So I changed it up a little.

Originally, you have to make at least two braids in your hair and then twirl them together and tie them down to the top of your head to make a nest? A bun? But I didn't put it on the top of my head. I put it very low, just where my hair ends. And to me, that made all the difference.

I'm looking at myself in the mirror too much. It's actually something that I never do, mirrors are just for quick check-ups or fashion shows with myself. I don't spend more than five minutes looking at myself in the mirror. 

I’m tugging on the dress everywhere my fingers get to, and it’s unnessecary. The fabric will soon be unusable, stretched and pulled at places. I’m fidgeting. Nervous. Not what I am, not what I'm supposed to be. My shoulders are supposed to be higher, my back more straight than it usually is, chin up and a smile on face. God, I can't do that today, I can't smile. I just... have to survive this one day, I have to be strong. 

The dress looks fine, honestly. If I'd look objectively at it, I'd notice that there's nothing wrong with it, no glitters have fallen off, not one spot looks stretched out. But the dress would look much better untouched, hanging in the closet.

I try to touch up my hair even though it doesn't need touching up. And suddenly the most important pin slips out of the hair bunch on my head and all the others follow suit. It was the last one I put in that held together each previous pin. And now everything's ruined, my hairstyle is falling out. I should have secured everything a bit more strongly. I shouldn't have touched my hair at all... 

I’m gasping as I try to save it all, twisting and turning in a squatting position in front of my mirror. The pins are falling behind me and the twisting around is making em very uncomfortable. My hands are flying all around me to gather the pins but I can’t see them on the dark floor. I let out a loud whimper of despair as I fall down on my bum, and can't help but start to cry. Oh, I hate crying.

“Scarlett?” The door of my room opens and James slips through. His eyes search for me in the room, but he can’t spot me in the far end of my room, behind my bed, actually having a panic attack on the floor in front of my mirror. But once he hears my whimpers and sobs of sadness, he spots me and rushes over.

James is wearing a nice, dark suit. He looks lovely, the complete opposite of me. His hair is pushed back with the help of some gel, but as he bends down to my level, strands of it start to fall out. To me, it looks better and I even want to stop his hand that pushes the fallen strands back in place.

I think of how I look before him now. I have probably cried all my mascara off and it’s running down my cheeks, blended with tears, looking like black, horrid rivers. My hair is a mess, I’ve lost all my pins and I think the heels of my shoes are starting to break. My face is pulled into a scowl because of crying.

“Scarlett.” His soothing voice speaks. I cry harder and he sits down next to me, puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer. “What's wrong, doll?” He asks in such a soothing voice, it almost makes me cry harder. 

“I-I can’t do it. I can't go out there.” I say between cries. “Everything's ruined. My makeup is completely ruined.” I state. At that, James chuckles. 

“That thing don’t matter.” He replies. “We can clean it off.”

“No, I have to have it on.” I protest. “I already put it on for this day and I can’t just leave my face like it is.” James huffs and stands back to his feet and helps me do the same. I lean up again on my wobbly knees and he immediately helps me find balance - one hand on my waist, the other holding my hand. Just like dancing.

“Darlin’, when I tell you that you don’t need that, you listen to me.” James says in a serious tone of voice. He's tipped his head down a bit, looking at me through his lashes. “It’s your father’s funeral day. Everybody already knows how much you're hurt inside, and covering that up with something fabricated is worse. Nobody will even care how you look today. It’s only normal if you look like you’ve cried for weeks.”

His words make sense to me. I don’t hear myself histerically crying anymore, and I'm not breathing rapidly, either. I don’t really know what to say to him, but then my voice speaks before I can come up with words. 

“What about my hair?” I ask. “I’ve… I’ve lost all my hair pins on the floor, and I had such a beautiful hairstyle and now I don’t know how to do it again and—“ My breaths start to pick up their pace again.

“Scarlett, it's alright.” James stops me. “Your hair is beautiful, look,” he takes a strand that's fallen over my shoulder and raises it up so I can see it, “you have the most beautiful hair in New York, and in the world, I'm sure. Look at the waves, look at how it's curled from the braiding.” There's a hopeful smile on his features and it makes my lip quiver. How do I deserve this? “I can take out all the otha' pins and you'll go with your hair like it is.”

"But I had such a beautiful hairstyle, I have to make it again, it was—”

“Almost the one you had on our date, yes, I know.” James nods and I look at him. He really remembers? “It's alright, doll, you can make it tomorrow and the day after and for the rest of your life. But you can forget about it now, alright?” His eyes ask the question, as well. “And you are in no state to clean your own face. I’ll do it for you.”

So he sat me down on my bathroom counter and cleaned my ugly mascara off. I didn’t speak while he did, and I didn’t feel like I should have spoken. Who knows what I was supposed to do then.

James takes one of the small white towels I leave in my bathroom cabinet and wettens it with water. I watch his hands as they come up to my cheeks and then my eyes divert to his. He'd never helped me in such a feminine way before. And I was so glad that he was the one cleaning my face.

His eyes showed such determination. And his hands were soft, his movements were slow and gentle, his touch was caring. I wouldn't have touched my face like that. I would've rushed it all, practically beaten my cheeks and left them in a splotchy red color. But James was much more gentle and careful with my skin, since it wasn't his. I guess everyone's much more careful with what isn't theirs. Maybe most people.

He gives my cheeks and eyelids one last petting with the warm cloth and retracts from me, washing the towel. James leaves it on the surface so it can dry easier and turns back to me. “How are you feeling?” He whispers to me, stroking my cheek with his thumb. I lean into his touch willingly, my eyes closing. I can't really give him an answer. I don't know how I feel, to be honest. “Do you want some water? Water with sugar?” He suggests and I shake my head. 

I reach out to his hand with mine and he lets me pull him closer to me. James looks in my eyes as if asking something, and I only nod. That something was to kiss me. And so he does. And it's slow and gentle and just... calming. Just what I needed. And I feel like doing it forever. 

He lays kisses on both my reddened cheeks and then returns to my lips and then presses a kiss to the very tip of my nose. I giggle, I actually do, and he draws back from me quick enough to catch a glimpse of my smile.

“There's that smile I was looking for.” James tells me and laughs, his whole face lights up with love and warmth and achievement, as well. It's what he was going for - making me smile. I love that about him. 

My arms wrap around his neck and his hold me close by my waist when I let my head fall against his chest. I could fall asleep in this position, and I want to badly. But I have to go out and honor my father in front of people I mostly don't know. His old friends and colleagues. 

I hope to find people I know, or should know. Any relatives I haven't had the chance to meet, maybe? A long-lost sister or cousin? I have to do this, and I can. So I let Bucky help me get off the bathroom counter and put on more comfortable shoes and go out. He walks with me.

What an angel he was. Sometimes I couldn’t believe that he was there, with me, helping me and talking to me. No matter what had happened, James knew what to say. Was there, whatever the situation. Just like he was for Steve. Bucky was our angel. I didn’t think I deserved an angel. Not even now. Although I wish that I had one, either by my side or watching over me.

I don’t know, maybe it’s because he’s always had both parents and three siblings. Maybe that's the reason he was so good to us. He knew how to take care of people, he knew what to say at the right moments. And he hadn't even studied psychology at any point in his life. Now I really can't guess why he was such an emotionally intelligent person. But I guess the family life and experience from it gave him a lot. 

I trusted him to be there for me always, maybe I trusted too much, was asking too much of him. But he never let me down. He always came when I called. And I also wondered how he always had time for everything, for everyone. His family, Steve, school, me, and occasional work. He was perfect in everything. 

And what we had was perfect - the relationship, the remaining friendship between us both and Steve. My life was as perfect as our relationship, despite my father being gone, and I thought it would never end. And it didn't, until right after the funeral. 

My speech was alright. Of course I teared up, and I hated it, I still hate it. I hate crying in front of other people, no matter who they are and if they understand or not. I don’t like being seen vulnerable in the eyes of many. But well, that day… was quite the exception. There were many excuses of why I was crying, and people I didn't even know comforted me (James, of course, outed them), but I still hated it.

I didn't even know half the people that showed up to my father’s funeral and voiced their greatest condolences to me. Not one friendly or familiar face that I had seen. Everyone spoke to me after the ceremony and before the ‘feast’. I think there were a hundred people, in total. 

A while later I found out that the folks I didn’t know were my dad’s colleagues and associates from work, his friends. There were also some of my mom’s friends who I’d never met. They came to talk to me, propose some options about living spaces, offer anything they could. They'd also tell me about my mom, things about her I'd never heard from my dad. They made me even more sad.

“I’m s-sorry, it’s been a… quite a hard day.” I say between sobs. I’m cleaning off my tears with a handkerchief and I feel someone walk up to me from the left. From the grip of their hand on my shoulder I immediately know it’s James. Millie looks at him as I turn my body into his, and Bucky's arms come up around me. My tears wetten his blazer. Weak, I am weak.

“No, I have to apologise. I didn’t mean to sadden you, that was not my intention at all.” Millie says. She’s one of mom’s old friends or best friend, in her words. I have many questions yet to ask her. For example, why did she never visit me or my dad? Why did I never know her?

“What happened?” James asks softly, looking between me and Millie. I sigh.

“This is Millie, one of mother’s friends. Millie, this is James, my, uh, my boyfriend.” i introduce them to each other. “Millie just told me a few things about my mother.” I say and smile at her warmly. My tears are gone, but they’re not far from coming back, either. 

“Oh, I see.” James says and smiles at Millie. “Nice to meet you, even under these drastic measures.” He says and Millie extends her arm towards him, wanting to shake his. But James turns it and places a kiss on her palm. Both me and Millie chuckle. “That’s the right look, princess.” James says to me, cradling the side of my face in his hand gently. I blush slightly and lean into his chest even further.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two.” Millie says. “Bye, love. Take care.” She says, wavering her fingers at us. I wave back and she smiles before walking away, her shoes clicking against the ground as she does.

I also met my father’s parents, which I had never before met in my life. I didn’t know I was missing them until I met them. They were sorry that they hadn't met me before, but explained it as 'difficult family matters' being the reason why. 

Grandmother asked me about the house and I told her I lived alone. At first she was totally against me living completely alone and wanted me to come live with them, in Chicago. But I couldn't yet trust her so well. I couldn't abandon the life I have here, either. Then she sufficed with telling me that if I ever needed anything, anything at all, they’d be there to help and support me. I told her thank you. 

I know you're probably asking why I never offered James to live with me. I should have, oh, I should have. But he had a family he had to take care of. He couldn't just leave them all alone. We joked about bringing them all to live in my house. Well, a joke it was from James, not from me. I gave the thought a lot of seriousness. Later on, years after, we, well, actually, it was only me who decided that Bucky and his family would live in the house. It's big, like a mansion, his little brother had said. “It's a princess palace!” Lizzie, his sister told me when they all arrived.

I guess the mundainity and obviousness of James having a busy family life was the reason why I never offered him to live with me. His family is very important to him, in his case, blood was thicker than water. He always told me stories about his siblings and parents and I could see how much he cared for them. Other families/people wouldn't go the length he did for their families and relatives. 

He was quite the opposite of me, actually, just like Steve. We had both lost our parents now and never had a sibling. Completely alone, used to loneliness. But Bucky had it all - friends and family. Nor me nor Steve can say that we didn't have friends, because we did. He had me and Bucky, and I had him and Bucky. But there was always something missing from both our lives. And family gives you most in life, it shapes you as a person, teaches you a lot and gives you knowledge and experience that nothing else could.

I thought I saw my father’s younger brother sneaking around the funeral, too. Now, of course, I know it was him for sure. Then, I didn't remember precisely what he looked like.

I didn’t know him very well. I only knew his name - Robert. I had seen him with my father occasionally when I was younger. I didn’t know who he was, what he worked as or why he was detached from his own family. It was what my father had told me, he had also told me that he and Robert didn’t share the same mother, Robert had german blood in him. I'm not sure now, he looks similar to my grandmother. Or maybe I'm just rying to convince myself they're not step-brothers...

I was never curious to find out who he was and what he had as a job or… profession, if I could count it as a profession now. He didn't seem the family I wanted to have. I may seem arrogant to you by this statement, but he didn't seem the right guy. My grandparents - yes, maybe, but not Robert.

Many people had left me gifts which were a little hard to carry, so me and James called a taxi for each of us to get the gifts back to my house. They all barely fit inside the two cars which really surprised me. Why had people bought me so many gifts? I didn’t need that many things, I needed nothing at all except for my father, the leading figure in my life.

James stayed over that night. It was the first night ever that he stayed at my house. I had been to his house many times before then and stayed a couple. It was a lovely atmosphere there, in their household, with the three siblings still living there and his parents rushing around so everything would be nice and comfortable. Especially when I was around, but it seemed a bit excessive to me. I could tell they wanted to make a nice impression of themselves on me, but I never needed nor wanted one. I liked them already because they were good and caring people, very much like James himself. And they were the ones that gave James to this world.

We laid in my bed awake for many hours that night, could be until the clock hit two or three. I couldn’t sleep and, because James didn't want me to be alone, he didn't sleep, either. To keep me company. But I knew he secretly wanted to sleep because he was quite the heavy sleeper back then.

We talked a little here and there, but mostly there was silence between us. Only the gear wheels in my head turning slowly and heavily, with such resistance. I was thinking hard about everything, trying to decide something, at least. Something to say.

For once, I liked silence a little more than I usually do. I liked silence when I was with James. Neither of us speaking, only breathing and listening to each other's heartbeat. His arm around me, hand caressing my hair and his chest under my hand and beneath my ear so that I could hear his heartbeat. Well, maybe it wasn’t complete silence, after all. Hearing his heartbeat gave me comfort and inner peace. It was something I could listen to all my life, those steady beats of the heart I desire still against my ear drums.

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I know these seem like fillers now, but I promise you’ll understand why they’re needed and the real thing’s coming soon ;)

[steves-legs]

Honest (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist | Requests

Summary: Peter Parker, the Amazing Spider-Man, had nerves of steel behind the mask. He was able to defeat horrible villains, swing from impossible heights, and do the impossible. But without the suit, without the mask, he can’t even tell his best friend that he’s in love with her. Maybe it’s her beauty, her confidence, or the possibility of losing her altogether if he admits his feelings, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. His hesitation also most definitely has something to do with the fact that she’s Flash’s little sister.

Characters: Peter Parker, Y/N Thompson, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Molly Owen (OC), Liz Toomes, May Parker, 

A/N: there is a little reference to one of Robert Downey Jr.’s old roles in here ;)

You had always been close with Peter Parker and Ned Leeds. You remembered Peter being there when you broke your arm after Flash had pushed you off of your bike. May had Peter deliver a batch of your favorite cookies to your home the day after, even though they had nothing to do with the incident. You remembered Ned fending off the playground bullies for you in third grade when your brother wouldn’t. When you discovered that your two closest friends were also best friends (small world, am I right?), you three became inseparable.

As the years went on and the three of you started high school, the friendship only strengthened as an idea of watching movies together had turned into a weekly tradition. At first, the two boys would make their way to your house, but once Mrs. Thompson got a new job that kept her busy during the weekends, her brother had made it a point to bully the three of you incessantly; so much so that the weekly movie marathon was moved to Ned’s.

In school, you had achieved the status of, ‘Miss Popularity’; a moniker that Ned teased you about to the point of claiming you had become too cool to hang out with the likes of their ‘league of nerds’, but you paid no mind, usually retaliating with some pop culture reference, which Peter tended to fall to his knees for. As stated before, you three were inseparable.

But lately, Peter had been acting... strange. You couldn’t really place a finger on it, but he’d been spending a lot less time ogling Liz... and he’d skipped the past month of Saturday night movie marathons. Whenever Saturday rolled around, and you were on your way to the Leeds’ house, you would receive a text from Peter letting you know that he would be unable to You’d questioned Ned about it on more than one occasion, but every time he just laughed it off.

“Pigeons learn faster than you,” he’d said once. You hit him over the head with a rolled-up magazine for that one.

•  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •

Sitting on the bleachers with your headphones tucked in your ears and a bag of carrots resting on your knees, you reached into your backpack for your copy of The Motion of Life in Water. You’d told your usual group of lunch buddies that you had to study, which was a lie, but you didn’t feel too guilty for it. You munched in silence, reading with soft music playing. You bobbed your head from side to side slightly, completely closed off from the outside world. But as the song’s tempo increased, the feeling of your right earbud being yanked out startled you. Turning your head quickly to shout at whoever dared disrupt you, your eyebrows rose up in surprise as the sight of Peter Parker greeted you. His boyish face had been on your mind a lot as his absence was a noticeable one.

In a moment of unfiltered frustration, you smacked him across the thigh with the paperback book.

“Peter, what the hell!?” you shouted. He sat on your left, grinning from ear to ear.

“Jeez, Y/N, sorry! I just wanted to know what you’re listening to,” he said, listening in on your music. “Ah, not a bad choice.” He smiled, inserting the earbud fully.

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you showed it to me, Petey,” you said. “So where have you been lately?”

“Wh-What do you mean?” he asked nervously, cocking an eyebrow as he offered you a strawberry. You offered him a carrot in return.

“You skipped all of our John Hughes movie nights! It’s so unlike you, Pete, to skip Weird Science?“

“I don’t even like Weird Science, Y/N. Ian reminds me a little too much of--”

“Mr. Stark, I know. I get it. You’re basically an Avenger now,” you rolled your eyes. “I bet you haven’t even met any of them, other than Iron Man.”

One of the few topics of discussion that always seemed to come up was Peter’s internship with Stark Industries. Ever since the Stark Convention in 2010, Peter had become enamored with the Iron Man. It was only fitting that the man that saved Pete’s life would end up choosing him as an intern.

“Y-Yeah...” Peter said softly, smiling down at his feet for some reason.

“But hey,” you began. He looked at you, his brown eyes searching your face. You didn’t catch on, but he looked at you with longing.

“Do you think you could get Spider-Man to sign something for me?” you asked giddily. “Not to totally take advantage of your situation, but he’s awesome.” Peter’s cheeks flushed bright pink.

“Wh-Wh-What m-makes you say that?” he asked, brows furrowed. You gave him a strange look, smiling.

“I dunno, he’s probably the only Avenger who hasn’t left anyone dead on the streets. He’s all for the little guy,” you explained.

“But what if he’s, like, super ugly under the mask? Like, horrifically burned or something?” a detached voice asked. You and Peter glanced over to see Molly, one of your friends, nearing with Liz and your brother not far behind. Flash smirked at her comment.

“I bet he’s definitely got some horrible skin deformity,”

“What, like Deadpool?” you asked as they stopped short in front of you and Peter on the bleachers.

“Yeah! God, what if he’s some geek with pimples and shit?” Flash agreed.

“Okay, well first off, Flash, who invited you into this conversation?” you asked, grinning slyly. He glared at you.

“Y/N, don’t be so anal, alright? You’re having a public conversation with Penis Parker. Are you seriously gonna get mad at me for wanting to be involved?” Flash retorted. You’d already had your fill of his attitude for the day, so you pulled out your left earbud and folded your arms over your chest. Peter, Liz, and Molly collectively held their breath.

“No, you can’t. See, you wouldn’t know this, pretty boy, but you wouldn’t have to rely so heavily on your physical appearance if you were actually a nice guy. But no, you wake up three hours before school to style your fucking hair because there’s nothin’. Going. On. Upstairs,” you said, tapping your temple to express just how much you meant what you said. He looked somewhat embarrassed because of Peter’s laughter. Liz groaned at the conflict in general. You pursed your lips to keep from laughing along, high fiving Peter. Flash huffed, crossing his arms and storming off.

“Nice, Y/N. Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Molly snickered, she and Liz taking the seats below you and Peter.

“Y/N, Flash does kinda have a point, though. You’ve gotta shut up about this Spider-person! What if he is actually a she? What if you’re obsessing over some totally hot crime-fighting vigilante chick?” Molly proposed.

“Spider-Man.... is a man... Because he calls himself Spider-Man,” Peter commented defensively.

“I love him,” you joked, earning laughter from Liz.

“Well, if what Ned said in gym class the other day was true, then Peter does know Spider-Man,” she said, motioning toward Peter. “Why don’t you hook them up?” Molly nodded vigorously.

“I... I barely know the guy,” Peter said bleakly, swallowing hard. You poked his arm softly, making him jolt slightly.

“I... know... when... you’re... lying, Petey,” you teased. “But don’t worry. I won’t ask you to introduce me to your new web-slinging buddy,” You laid your head on his shoulder. “It’d be too awkward, anyway.” You closed your eyes, putting your earbud back in. If you hadn’t closed your eyes, you would’ve seen the way Peter’s face turned beet red. You would’ve seen how Liz raised an eyebrow at his reaction to your affection, and you would’ve seen the shit-eating grin on Molly’s face.

It seemed that everyone knew but you.

•   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   • 

You whistled along to the radio as you danced around your room, reading from your textbook after school that Friday. No clubs or plans, so the rest of your day was open. You were home alone that evening; Flash had a date (so he most likely wouldn’t be back until the next morning) and your parents both worked, so the music was rather loud.

The sun had begun to set and when you looked out the window, you saw the beautiful city skyline and the outline of Stark Tower in front of the orange-colored sky. It felt peaceful and safe being close enough to see the building, but far enough away that if the sky were to open up again, you’d be safe from harm for a little longer. You tossed your textbook onto your bed, climbing in after it. You propped your feet up against the wall your twin bed touched, your mind wandering from seeing the Chitauri attack on the news to Peter’s internship. What exactly did it entail anyway? Why did he disappear so often as of late? Why did he act so secretive about the internship, especially towards you? You’d never told anyone any of his secrets, so why was this one that he wanted to keep from you? All questions with no answer.

Being home alone could only be fun for so long, so you decided to text your group chat with Peter and Ned to see what they were up to.

 Y/N: Guys, I’m dying of boredom over here. What’re you up to?

Nedward 🤠: Hanging out at home. Was just about to text u.

Y/N: Petey

Y/N: Peter Benjamin Parker, wya sis?

Y/N: Where is he tho

Nedward 🤠: I dunno should we be worried? Usually the second your name pops up on his phone hes jumping for it like it’s a life raft and hes in the middle of the ocean

Y/N: Don’t exaggerate. We should totally surprise him at home. He’s probably asleep. Or doing homework

Nedward 🤠: What kind of loser does homework on a Friday? I have to help mom with dinner. I’ll see if I can come later on though?

Y/N: Peter. Peter does homework on a Friday. And me. I do homework on Fridays. Don’t judge. I’m gonna text May and head over

Nedward 🤠: Ok let me know if he’s dead

•   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   • 

You knocked softly on the door to May’s apartment.

“One second!” her sweet voice called. You heard hurried footsteps make their way over and she pulled the door open. She saw your face and hers lit up like a kid’s on Christmas.

“Y/N! I was worried something happened. What took you so long to get here?” she asked, sounding a lot like your mother. You grinned sheepishly, holding up a bag from Delmar’s deli.

“I got you guys sandwiches,”

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart!” she took the bag from you, giving you a tight hug and pulling you inside.

“Delmar asked about you again,” you teased. May rolled her eyes, handing you the sandwich marked #5 and the two bags of sour gummy worms.

“Oh, shush. You sound just like Peter. He’s in his room,” May said, heading back over to her desk. You made your way across the living room, knocking on Peter’s bedroom door. No answer. You opened the door slowly, peeking in to see him fast asleep on top of the covers on his bed. Shirtless. Funny. You grinned, letting yourself in and shutting the door behind you.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. I got you dinner,” you said, setting his food down on the nightstand. You sat beside his sleeping body but immediately gasped at the sight. His upper torso was marred with cuts and bruises of all shapes and sizes; your heart sinking as a particularly angry looking bruise drew your attention. You didn’t recall Peter having so many cuts and bruises on his body. It looked as though he’d been through a war. You reached out to brush your fingers through his unkempt locks with concern. He had a small cut on his forehead as well. Your fingers on his skin woke him in an instant. He sat up with a start, grabbing your wrist in panic. He let out a loud sigh of relief.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s just you. How long--” he yawned, letting go of your arm-- “how long have you been here?” He pulled one of those science pun shirts on over his injuries, groaning slightly. You didn’t comment on it.

“I just got here...” you said, taking a look around. His room was a mess. It had taken you being there to realize just how long it had been since you’d actually been in his room. Sure, you spent your weekends out in the living room during your sleepovers with Ned and occasionally Molly or even May, but you hadn’t been in his room in months. You stood, making your way over to his desk.

“What’s all this?” you asked, gesturing to the odd-looking tech blueprints. They looked familiar somehow.

“J-Just stuff for Mr. Stark. And a little bit of schoolwork mixed in,” Peter leaped off the bed, joining you in looking at the blueprints for a second before he hurriedly smashed all of the papers into one of the drawers. You spun around, leaning against the desk looking at his room from a new angle.

“I haven’t been in here in a while,” you commented. Peter had his hand on the desk, his thumb brushing against your left pinky.

“Yeah, it has been a while hasn’t it?” he agreed. You gestured towards his dinner.

“You gonna eat?” Peter moved away from you in an instant, going for the gummy worms.

“Thanks a ton, Y/N. I can pay you back,” he offered, sitting back on his bed. He tossed you the second bag of gummy worms. For a moment, things felt normal. Peter had that glow in his eyes back, but the strange cuts and bruises on his body worried you endlessly. You didn’t want to address it, for fear that he would just close back up again.

You sat at his desk, spinning in his rolling chair. You wheeled over to him and put your feet up on the bed.

“Don’t worry about it, Petey.” You smiled at him and he gave you a sweet look. You watched him for a long time, still debating on whether or not you’d bother to ask what was up.

But you did anyway.

“Are you okay lately?” you asked. Peter looked at you nervously.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve been acting super... distant lately. Even when you’re around, it’s like your mind is somewhere else. I’m just sorta worried, is all. Is it the internship or... Liz?” you asked, feeling a strange jealousy in your gut when you brought up his ever-present (so it seemed) crush.

“Everything’s fine!” Peter said a little too quickly and he knew it. “It’s got nothing to do with Liz.”

“So it’s the internship?”

“I... I guess. Partially?” Peter said, recoiling. You rolled your eyes, feet hitting the floor as you stood.

“Peter, you can’t lie to me anymore. You’re covered in all these bruises and cuts, it’s terrifying me. I can’t be in the dark just because you’re afraid of what I’ll think! I’m so worried for you,” you admitted, still holding the open bag of gummy worms in your hand. Peter set his bag down, sighing.

“Okay, okay... I... I was keeping it a secret because I don’t want you to ever risk you getting hurt because of me,” he began. You listened expectantly.

“I’m--”

He paused.

The faint sound of his watch beeping frantically sent Peter into a frenzy. He brushed past you, tearing his shirt and pants off in a hurry.

“Wh-What are you doing--...” You trailed off when Peter pulled the familiar suit up his legs. He slapped his chest, the suit suctioning to his body.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said through the mask. The Spider-Man. You were too stunned to respond. “Mr. Stark needs me... I... I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrowed, trying to absorb the situation as he threw his window open and disappeared into the city streets. You could hear the sounds of gunfire from his bedroom as you ran to the window, leaning out to watch him swing around the corner. Hell.

You did the only thing you could think of and called Ned.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s up? Is Pete ok?”

“He’s fucking Spider-Man!” you whisper-yelled, climbing out onto the fire escape outside Peter’s window.

“...I know.” Ned answered. You slammed the window shut and climbed down the ladder, cradling your phone between your ear and your shoulder.

“Excuse me, WHAT? You knew and didn’t tell me!?”

“He didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Why? Why do you know then?” you demanded.

“He came crawling into his room in the suit when I went over a while ago,” Ned replied sheepishly. You let go of the ladder when you got to the bottom, landing on the street below. “Did you just climb out the fire escape?”

“I can’t face May’s questioning! Does she know!?”

“No, she doesn’t know!” Ned exclaimed. You rolled your eyes at his dramatic response. You groaned. “How’d you find out?”

“His stupid beeper thing went off. I’m guessing it’s connected to Mr. Stark’s Life Alert necklace or something, you said, rounding the corner in the direction you saw Peter go.

“Y/N, where are you going?”

“Just waiting outside for the little fucker to come back and explain himself,” you lied.

“Y/N,” Ned warned. “Stay put. He’ll be devastated if you get hurt.”

Ned had a point. You leaned against the brick walls of Peter’s apartment building.

“Fine...” you said softly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Be safe,” Ned answered before hanging up. You groaned, running your fingers through your hair. You had no idea how long you’d have to wait.

•   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   •

“Y/N... you’re still here,” Peter’s detached voice said softly. You looked up from your shoes to see him standing there, still in the suit and all. He took a few steps closer to you and under the harsh streetlights, you saw his suit was torn, he had fresh wounds and a slight limp. He reached out a hand to help you stand regardless of the pain he was definitely in.

“Yeah, well, I’m persistent,” you joked as you got to your feet. Peter didn’t say anything, only watched you shiver against the cold.

“Y/N, why’d you wait out here?”

“I panicked... and the fire escape ladder’s too high up for me to reach...”

“Wanna... wanna come back inside?”

“Pete, why didn’t you tell me? Why weren’t you just honest with me?” you demanded, ignoring his question. Peter shrugged his shoulders, speaking through the mask.

“Wow, this feels surprisingly easier when you can’t see my face--”

“Peter.”

“Okay, okay... I didn’t want to risk you ever, ever getting involved in something I can’t get you out of. I want you to live a normal life, even if that means I disappear from it,” he reasoned. Your heart sank, but you crossed your arms.

“Why? Why does it matter so much? Ned knows.”

“Because... you’re not Ned. Not like he’s more replaceable or anything, but you’re my favorite girl. I want to be the one that makes your day, Y/N. I’m pretty sure that you’re Spidey’s number-one fan and I’m yours,” Peter paused.

You felt a smile creep up on your face as he continued. “I’ve seen you date guys that, yeah, they’ve made your heart melt and they’ve made you happy, but I don’t think that they’re right for you. It’s selfish, but I think you were made for me. You’re the most beautiful girl in the entire world. It bothers me a lot that I haven’t been the kind of guy you want, the kind that breaks your heart and makes you cry.” You raised your eyebrows but didn’t say anything for a moment. You slung his arm over your shoulder and walked him down the empty street, toward the fire escape. You finally spoke.

“You don’t think I was crying out here, worried that you’d get hurt? You don’t think I wanted to cry every time you talked about Liz? God, take this damn thing off,” you groaned, grabbing the mask and pulling it up off of his head. His tousled locks draped over his forehead and you saw a bruise forming over his right eye. You gasped, holding the mask over your lips.

“Peter...”

He shrugged.

“Gotta protect the city, right?”

“God, from what?” Your eyes widened.

“Some guy in a green goblin suit, I guess. The city’s full of crazies,” Peter answered. He grinned slyly. “Hey, wanna do something awesome? It’ll make me feel so cool, and I know you’ve dreamed of a moment like this.”

“Sure, Spidey,” you said. Peter took back the mask, pulling it over his head ‘just in case May had gone to investigate the silence’. He put an arm around your waist and shot a web up toward his windowsill. The two of you were practically catapulted up onto the fire escape.

“Holy hell, that was amazing!” you exclaimed, grinning. Peter’s eyes glinted at your reaction.

“Maybe sometime I can take you around the city.”

Peter climbed into his room, you following slowly. He changed out of the suit as you sat on his bed. He pointed to the nightstand.

“Can you get the first aid kit out of that top drawer?” he asked, pulling on sweatpants and carrying a t-shirt over to sit beside you. You did as you were asked and opened it.

“You don’t have to--”

“Yeah, I do. You won’t be able to reach some of these anyhow,” you interjected, pressing a few gauze pads to a laceration on his arm.

“Have you done this before?”

“Mom’s a registered nurse, remember?”

“Right, my bad,” Peter smiled. You cleaned his smaller wounds with care; it didn’t take long for your Spider-Man to be all patched up. You pressed a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

“You know something?” he began, looking at you affectionately.

“I know some things, yes, but you can educate me if you want.”

“I know it’s really cliche, but I think I’m better when I’m with you. I, like, worry when you’re not around,” Peter admitted.

“I like it when you say things like that,” you replied, leaning close to his face. He rested a hand carefully on your cheek, pressing your foreheads together.

“You’re not afraid to be in my life, knowing what you do now?”

“I never was.”

Then Peter kissed your parted lips feverishly, passionately, with his fingers in your hair. He wasn’t wrong, it was cliche but it was happiness. And it was real.

[lacklusterswirl]

The Choices you Make Ch.4

Hi, work and stuff is still pretty busy, but I'm writing, I promise! And uh... hey, someone got the code mostly (in the comments on AO3)! The thing is that it came in a little late, as I was nearly done the chapter at that point, so unfortunately, it didn't affect the story. It'll definitely help you out in future choices though, so good job, CrypticWonder :)

Anyways, follow along with Buck to get a feel for how he's doing. As always, hope you enjoy :)

.

“I don’t trust him. Maybe search him again if his story’s right about the glass.”

“The code?” Frost asked, nodding at Jameson to pat down the stranger.

“Nothing yet.”

Hm. Frost’s mouth twitched as Jameson pulled out a knife to show her. He immediately pulled a strand of rope fibre from the edge, and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Control backing out to oversee Bravo. Call in if you need help, we’ll see the alert.”

“Copy.”

.

“This is Sébastien “Buck” Côté. The time now is 09:46, and team Bravo is checking in. Avoledo is in position, and the wire is working.

“We have a tip from a source that the White Masks expect something to go wrong. Be on alert, but the tip came from an unreliable source.”

“Understood. This Dreas person is no where to be found. Avocado, you copy?” Buck got a few snickers with that.

“Yeah, just don’t turn me into swiss cheese here.”

“Do we need to change up the plan?” Maverick asked. “Even if we don’t trust him… Our main POI is msising.”

“Giving up higher ground might be an issue, plus, that’ll mean no cover for us,” Buck responded. If there was nothing certain, he’d rather not go against Ciel’s orders.

“Buck, you have control of the next building over, right?” Control asked. “We have a white van approaching now. Can you get the plate?”

The two men looked at the quiet street as the van pulled up. There was an advertisement for a rental garage on the side, and if Buck squinted, he could make out a few letters, though the reflection of the sun was a little much.

Maverick nodded at Buck from his position in the opposite corner. “Juliet, Lima, Uniform, Sierra, one, three five. Once again, Juliet, Lima, Uniform, Sierra, one three five.”

“Plates trace back to the garage Ciel is infiltrating.” Control relayed the info back.

“Copy. Contact. Here they come.”

With baited breath, they watched as Avoledo opened the door and nodded at them.

“What can you tell me about Avoledo?” Maverick asked control. They greeted each other like old friends, and Buck vaguely wondered if he never met the man due to this talent of his.

There was a moment of silence before Control got back. “Lukas Avoledo is from Kitchener, Ontario, and he’s been a part of JTF2 for two years now. The first year was as a class B specialist, and the second was as an undercover agent in the White Mask organization. He never underwent an extract, just told them that he had to lay low while a bust went down at one of their main drug factories. Ciel was the only one who has had any contact with him at all since then, recently calling him into this mission to break a year of radio silence.”

Maverick fell silent. And Buck knew why.

“Long time, eh?” Avoledo greeted them. “Wish you could’ve given me more warning.”

“Where’s Dreas?” One voice demanded.

“I was going to ask you that. He wouldn’t open his door so I broke through the back.”

There was some humming and hawing. “We’ll need to get him out then. How did you say you went dark again, Pit?”

“Cut everything and went to live with an old ex for a week before travelling to China. Didn’t you hear that I got in contact with a cell there? They helped me with the Visa shit.”

“We did. Boss told us to expect you here today.”

“Kandahar is arriving too,” the first voice spoke.

“Who’s Kandahar?” Avoledo asked, sounding just a little more stressed than just before.

Maverick looked away to raise to talk to Control. “Kandahar is the leader of a cell in Afghanistan. Named for the city he was initiated in.”

“What about him?” Control responded. There was someone murmuring in the back, and someone else added, “We don’t have that info. Send a request, and say it’s backed by Ciel.”

Maverick was shaking his head as he argued in hushed tones. “Look, I hate to say it, but we may need to cut this short. Avoledo is in trouble if Kandahar is involved. That man trusts no one, and if Avoledo has been gone for a year…”

“Can’t do. Extraction will cause too much—”

“Control,” Maverick was pleading. “I was under Kandahar’s eye while I was in Afghanistan. At least until he got taken by some other organization that turned out to be the White Masks. He’ll hurt Avoledo.”

“And Ciel has pre-overruled anything to do with this part. Avoledo stays. We can only clear him if there’s reason.”

“Avoledo was Ciel’s personal protégé.” Buck rolled his eyes. “And Ciel very rarely makes calls like that, so he must have a reason. We need to move down though. Just in case.”

“So, you called me here to interrogate me?” the outraged cry made Buck snap his attention to the audio as they ran down the stairs and out the side door.

“Look, Pit, we didn’t think he needed to, but then he said that that was what he was doing. We trust you, man… it’s just that… new bosses, right?”

Avoledo scoffed. “And what happened to Sterling?”

“Got killed by some international org. We don’t quite know them, but they’re deadly.”

“Hmph. Alright. Well, when is Kandahar getting here? I’ve been here for a while now.”

“I’m right here… Pit.”

“Oh… uh… hello.”

“I’ve lost visual, they’re moving him to a no-zone.” Jordan’s voice cackled through the radio.

“Same here,” Ramer announced. “This isn’t good…”

“Wait for the signal,” Buck muttered.

As they moved to the shadowy areas of the gardens to look for their man on the inside, Buck couldn’t help but keep glancing at his watch.

“Argh!”

Maverick shot Buck a look but he still held still. Avoledo must’ve had something special about him if he could survive being Ciel’s trainee. And more if he could survive a year away from everyone, trusting completely in just one person.

“That’s just so I can see you. When you’re all dressed up in the uniform like the rest of them today, this will be how I tell you apart from the other trainees.”

“Wait, but… sir, I’ve already passed training. Why am I—ah!”

There was another slapping sound and a voice got surprisingly close to his wire. “Perhaps under… what’s his name… Sterling. I only want the best though. If you prove you’re still worth what they thought you were, then you’ll be free to go about as usual. Now. Put. On. The. Suit.”

“Guess you don’t strip all that often, huh?” That was a friendly voice. Not Kandahar.

“Nah, not even once in a while anymore.”

There was a cackling, then silence.

Buck tightened his grip on his gun. “Control, what’s going on? What’s your read?”

“Wire’s been disconnected.”

“Are we clear to breach?” Maverick asked. Buck made a mental note to talk to the man after the misison about insubordination, but now was not the time, and neither of them were in the proper mental state.

There was a tapping noise. “No visual. You’re not clear to breach, but we… we can override Ciel’s orders. It’s just… if we break him out in this way, he’ll never be able to work undercover again. He knows what he’s doing, and he hasn’t given the signal yet.”

Maverick looked over at Buck. Maverick was insisting that the new man was bad news, but Ciel, who had been over seeing Avoledo’s mission, clearly had some reason to believe that his little apprentice was fine…

“Control we’re ready for a breach,” Buck announced as he saw Ramer and Jordon creep up to their position. He and Maverick made their way up to the cars on the street for cover. “Call’s yours.”

Buck has left it up to you! Team Bravo is ready to breach, but you need to be able to clear it! Remember, you are technically higher up the command than Ciel since he’s gone dark with his team, so your choice right now is to either give the order to breach, or keep waiting for Avoledo to signal for rescue.

(A/N) Alright... Here it is. You have the power to go with Maverick's instincts and breach and try to extract Avoledo, but keep in mind that there was an agreed upon signal that was never said... what could that mean?? Comment on AO3 about what you think Team Bravo should do, or ask me here on my blog :)

[shooter-nobunagun]

[I will tear it apart at the seams; if that’s what it takes]

“Commander, there seems to be an object in the air! Headed towards us!”

“Is it an Invasion Object?”

“No—well, I don’t think so...actually, these energy readings...it’s a, holder?”

“What?!”

“Which one? No one’s scheduled for anything right now!”

Their frantic chatter filled his ears, but Adam didn’t really care to listen to any of it. He could have disabled his suit’s radio connection to the main command center if he chose to, but the darker side of him found some sort of deranged pleasure in hearing their confusion and uncertainty. 

“Getting a date...coming in, genetic signal traces to 1888...it’s ball #13?”

“Jack the Ripper?! He’s here?”

“Jack, what’s going on? Status report, please! You are currently retired from the active roster; I repeat, status report!”

A worried buzz filled the command room, Saint-Germain exceedingly quiet while Vidocq brooded in his chair, the bags under his eyes even darker than usual. “Strange, very strange...according to Hunter’s last report, the man could barely get out of bed unassisted, let alone suit up and wield an AU ball...!” The blonde nervously chewed the remains of a half-smoked cigarette, casually spitting out the used tobacco. “He’s up to something...”

“...You think he has an ulterior motive?”

Vidocq eyed their stoic commander uneasily. “...Well, given the current circumstances and everything that’s happened—losing Nobunagun, losing his daughter, not to mention his deteriorating health...do you think he is currently in the best of mental and emotional states?”

“Dr. Hunter reported he seemed stable and was convalescing back in his quarters—”

“—oui, that’s what they all say—but I have a feeling...Adam Muirhead, that man...he never has taken anything sitting down, without a challenge...” Vidocq moved from chewing the cigarette to his thumb. “I don’t like this...”

“You aren’t the only one Monsieur Vidocq,” both the tactician and Commander Saint-Germain turned to the new voice of Michel de Nostradame, who had just entered along with William Tell. “Apologies, I meant to tell you earlier but given the recent events—”

“—just spit it out already—it’s another prophecy, isn’t it?”

“...Oui. Oui, I’m fairly certain...at the time the accuracy was only 44%, so I did not say anything until I could get a better reading. But now with this...” The redheaded seer took off his glasses and wiped them on the edge of his jacket, before putting them back on. “He has done something to himself, that man...and it will end up causing great destruction...and much pain.” 

“Human pain, and suffering...even now, it is a paradox to me.” Dogoo’s bubbling, disembodied voice cut back in, as it was now sealed back inside its hibernation chamber after the disastrous attempt to use it on another human. “You are implying...Adam Muirhead is now hostile towards us, is that correct?” Nobody said anything for a few seconds, as if afraid that once they voiced it, it would come true. 

“...Well, I am not saying he will outright attack us—but, certainly the feelings I sensed in the prophecy, they were...courroux, désespoir—ah, how do you say—”

“Anger, despair,” the Swiss archer translated for the prophet. “Adam Muirhead...even now, some twenty-odd years later, you’re still just a brat that does whatever you want, regardless of how much trouble it causes others...all for the sake of her.” The AU ball gleamed in the dim lights, as if readying itself and its owner for battle. “Tch...how the hell someone like him ended up becoming the leader of the new Second Platoon is still beyond me.”

“Hold on a minute, Tell...you’re not actually going...to confront him?” Even Vidocq seemed shocked at this turnaround, nevermind the fact Adam hadn’t responded to any of the calls, and was still coming closer—and now according to the outer cameras, with his AU weapon fully drawn as well. “Mon dieu...what is going on?!”

“Trust me, the last thing I want is to get in a fight with that idiot—but if that’s what it takes to beat some sense into him, then so be it.” Without another word the archer headed for the gates, stripping off his outer uniform to reveal the undersuit he’d already put on. “Nostradamus, Vidocq, keep me posted—I’ll be out there in a few.”

“W-Wait! Mr. Tell, before you just jump in, please let me take a look!” The Special Squad’s spotter finally burst in, breathless from having run all the way from the other end of the halls. “If it’s as you said Nostradamus, that something’s...changed inside him, maybe my orbs can find the cause and resolve it without having to fight~su!” There was a terse few seconds of staring, but Galileo was determined to not back down, despite Tell’s unnerving glare. The Second Platoon and Special Squad had enjoyed one of the closest bonds between all the platoons over the years; to simply engage in one of their oldest friends without even an explanation was an insult to not only its living members, but Nobunagun’s memory as well.

“...You get five minutes Galileo, and then I’m heading out.” 

The spotter nodded, pink hair that still remained in pigtails to this day flying about. “Roger~su! I can do it in four!” And without even suiting up she called out her AU weapon, the orbs all flying out through the nearest open hatch. “Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto! Let’s go!”

The atmosphere was thick inside the command room as all eyes watched the tiny spheres zoom out, while Adam flew closer still. By this point the staff were starting to run through protocols for a possible invasion, even if it was by one of their own and not their designated enemy; the officers and controllers moved about in a daze, as if not really believing that one of their own could turn against them.

“Commander...should we really engage him? He’s not responding, but still...!”

At this Saint-Germain turned his full attention to the screens. “...We must follow the protocol, Vidocq. After all, when Iyo handed the reigns over to me...it became my duty to carry out our mission, no matter what obstacles we might encounter. If we deviate now, it could cause more harm than good.” The glasses were pushed up just a touch further on the bridge of his nose. “I must admit I am a bit surprised Vidocq; that you would go out of your way to defend Mr. Muirhead...”

The blonde heaved a sigh and sank into the depths of his AU easy chair, which itself was sagging due to the holder’s exhaustion. “...Heh, I can see why you would be. I do not blame you...it’s not as if I really got along with either of them...Sio Ogura and Adam Muirhead...and yet...” A finger smudged the stray ashes that were spilling out of the ashtray, staining a greyish streak onto his trousers. “...Call it an epiphany, or perhaps just age; but I think I understand now why he feels this way...although, too little too late perhaps.”

Saint-Germain grew quiet, as if really thinking as himself for once, rather than the mindset of Commander. “To protect that which is precious to you at any cost...that feeling, I understood well...once upon a time...”

“But she is no longer there to protect. So why engage us now?” The clay figure seemed confused, once again reminding them it was not of this planet to begin with. “Human feelings...I know they are complex, but perhaps I underestimated just how much and to what extent they can influence an individual’s actions.”

“Dogoo...what are you insinuating?”

“Perhaps I made a mistake. When I offered Adam Muirhead the option to save Sio Ogura...had it been wrong of me to intervene then?” The bubbles continued to roil amongst the background din of a frantic crew. “I claimed back then human emotions, the ability to feel and love as deeply as he can—as all humans can—is something exceedingly precious and worth protecting. And yet now I can see, those same feelings and emotions...are capable of great and terrible destruction, as well.”

Nobody said a word, only a strained silence as they all tried to justify their actions in their own ways. They knew Dogoo was not wrong—it was correct, this very paradox of emotions that made them human. Love and kindness, hate and despair...

“...You cannot have one without the other, in this world,” Saint-Germain murmured quietly, more to himself than the alien. “Humans are supremely complex; I’m sure you know by now, that not even we fully understand ourselves.”

“But was I wrong?” All eyes turned to the alien figure.

“...Non, Dogoo. For humanity, sometimes there is no right and no wrong; that’s just how life is.” ---- From his viewpoint in the sky, the base was finally coming alive—defensive shields coming up, and the heavy mortars were being uncovered. Though the shells were ultimately useless if the Objects really were to attack, they were at least effective as a buffer—and could more than blow him in half should they land a hit. But that was if they could actually hit him in the first place. Ironically, Adam couldn’t help but think of how excited Sio would be if she saw the heavy artillery being loaded up. Unconsciously his lips quirked into a smile, the memory of when she finally got to command a whole fleet of M1A2 Abrams during Operation Stone Forest bubbling up, so many years ago. 

A gleam caught his eye and he stopped suddenly, focusing his gaze on the four tiny spheres spiraling up into the sky... Galileo, of course. No doubt Command was trying to figure out what was going on first, instead of blindly open-firing.

“Hang on, I think I’m getting something~su!”

The spotter’s high-pitched voice cut back into the radio but he ignored their words, much like he ignored Europa and Io—or whichever orbs Galileo had launched in an attempt to try and scan him. Jack’s power meant that he could shatter them in a blink of an eye and render her blind for good, if he really wanted to, but that would just be a waste of time and energy. That, and Niall would never forgive him; despite his animosity towards DOGOO, Adam couldn’t betray the kindness the anatomist had shown him over the years by incapacitating the one Niall truly loved. They would know the truth soon enough anyway, his changes from Jack—there wasn’t anything they could do, except prepare for the inevitable.

“It’s...no way, it can’t be~su! Mr. Jack...”

“Galileo? What are your readings?”

“These numbers, the wavelengths—it’s, they’re not his usual e-gene signal—no, the most I can compare it to is when he forced the two modes to fuse, Jack the Ripper and Nightingale...but it’s not exactly the same...”

“The mode-change fusion?! He can still do that?”

While the staff was trying to make sense of it all, he was busy taking in the surrounding area. The base was currently offshore, but there was land close enough should it come down to a ground fight. But most importantly was the endless expanse of grey clouds and blue sky that rose above him...

He sensed the other one before the jets even came into view. Not even a warning, he simply appeared before him, clad in the green-and-white suit that always covered his mouth no matter how many iterations their armor had gone through. And though his weapon was different, he too, could soar through the skies the same as him—making two of them DOGOO’s most valuable holders.

“Well well...fancy seeing you here, William Tell.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice, but the other holder acted as if he didn’t even hear it. “Should’ve known they’d send you of all people...after all, takes one t’ get one...”

“Jack the Ripper. Or I should say, Adam Muirhead...you’re a goddamn pain in my ass, you know that?” The archer’s words were harsh but his expression was neutral. “I wondered if you’d end up learning some empathy for others after you got married...but I guess my expectations were too high. Always doing your own shit...with total disregard to the one who has to clean up your mess. I don’t know why Command has always put me in the role of being your nanny...but perhaps it’s only fitting, that the former head of the Second Platoon shall face off with its current head. Or no, my mistake—that’s Newton’s role now, since your ‘retirement’.“

Despite everything, Adam couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “Nanny? I always pegged you as more of a guard dog. But that’s your fault, isn’t it? After Columbus died...”

There was an unmistakable pulse of anger in the other’s eyes, but to his credit the archer did not say anything. Before Sio or Adam had joined DOGOO or even awakened their e-genes, there was the holder of Christopher Columbus; who, along with William Tell and Robert Capa, comprised of the original Second Platoon. To this day Adam still didn’t know the whole story; the only dark stain upon DOGOO’s otherwise illustrious history, until that ill-fated mission that lead to Sio’s eventual death. All that ever came trickling out, despite late nights in the document library and casually asking around the senior staff, was somehow Columbus had lost control of his e-gene—an incident dubbed the ‘runaway e-gene’—that resulted not only in enormous casualties, but the holder’s untimely death, as well. And though the old man never stated it, Adam suspected it was what forced an otherwise-healthy holder into a wheelchair and why Tell gave up leading an assault squad, instead being relegated to sniping missions as part of the Special Squad. For, despite how hard the organization tried to wipe the details of what went wrong, still bits and pieces leaked out, and all of them pointed towards the failure of then-leader William Tell to prevent the incident in the first place. Whether or not Tell resigned or they transferred him was never known, but what mattered was to this day, he hadn’t forgotten.

“Since you seem to know everything, then you probably already know what the spiel is: Adam Muirhead, stand down right now, or I will not hesitate to use force to subdue you,” the archer warned, and the arrows were pulled back, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. “I’m not going to give you a second warning.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to even give me one in the first place.” 

Tell’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “Hmph. I promised Galileo I’d give you five minutes to speak your mind...and it seems, those minutes are up.” Without even another signal or glance the arrows fired, but Adam easily weaved through most of them, parrying the last few with his newly-formed blade. It wasn’t as massive as its normal form, instead curving similarly to the claw but it was still wicked-sharp and able to slice through Tell’s arrows with ease. The rush of power at each slice, each swing and blow...even with all the battles he’d been through, the high that comes from dancing the line between life and death took him by surprise.

‘But of course; you’ve always fought to win, for survival. But fighting to destroy, for revenge...it’s delicious, isn’t it?’

Jack’s voice laughed gleefully in his mind as Adam continued to match Tell. Fwwap! Two arrows turned into splinters while a third was dodged; another twist in midair as he moved to block Tell’s multi-shot barrage, the metal feathers liquifying into darts that fired into his own hail of metal shards, the archer hastily pulling back into evasive maneuvers.

“Tell! What are you doing?!”

“They’re seriously going at it...”

No amount of pleas from the ground control, Galileo or otherwise, could sway either man. It was as if they were possessed by some force greater than themselves: Adam fueled by a combination of primal rage and Jack’s darker influences, while Tell met him blow-for-blow with a cold precision that was uncanny of any human, e-gene holder or otherwise.

“Adam! Stand down, for god’s sake!”

“Adam! Don’t~su!”

Back in command, even as the two men continued to clash the ones that remained behind begged futilely for them to stop. Galileo was near sobbing at this point, her voice growing hoarse as she cried while the data from her orbs came in, each data point creating a fresh wave of tears. “Oh, Adam...what would Sio say if she saw this now...you’re only hurting yourself more...” 

“Is there really no way to stop him, except by force?” Vidocq threw his half-smoked cigarette to the ground in frustration. “Surely it can’t come down to something as crude and primal as—this—!”

“Non I’m afraid, Monsieur Vidocq,” Nostradamus sighed, already resigned to watching this aerial duel play out. “This, too...was part of my visions. A swath of destruction, though the outcome...I know not.”

“Wonderful.” Vidocq rolled his eyes, the gears of his AU weapon turning with greater urgency. “So not only do we stand to lose two holders, but the base as well?”

Nostradamus looked almost abashed, if not for the gravity of the situation. “...Oui. There is a high chance we may have to evacuate...”

“That’s part of the standard procedure and things are already underway,” Saint-Germain interrupted, “though from the looks of things, we may need to leave soon as well.”

“You’re joking—and just, what, leave those two like this?!” Vidocq sputtered. “I have known Adam Muirhead during our entire careers together at DOGOO; and though we may have never truly seen eye-to-eye, there isn’t...non, he cannot possibly lose his mind like this—”

“—Nay, but then again, all of this, and the events before...were unprecedented as well, werennae they?” As the regular staff were streaming out in an orderly fashion, Hunter walked in with Adam’s son in tow. “So, ye really did it, ya fuckin’ bastart...bloody hell...” Those tired eyes were still red from tears, but his face was now set in a serious mask of grim defeat. “I tried stoppin’ ‘im, but ye know how he gets...tried talkin’, tried beggin’, hell I tried every single reason I could think of...” Hunter didn’t finish his sentence, only shaking his head very slightly as he clenched his jaw.

“Tou-san! Please, don’t—just stop all this—!”

“Don’t bother; nothing we say seems to be getting through to him, regardless of whether or not his radio’s still connected,” Vidocq sighed heavily, eyes still unable to tear away from the two figures on the screen, who were now weaving in and out around the main armaments. “You should evacuate with the rest of the staff, and let us handle this...”

“—What! But I—my father—”

“Guards, please escort him out to safety with the remaining crew.” Ignoring the teen’s cries, Vidocq rose up from his easy chair, taking over the main control panel as most of the operators left. “...I understand your feelings; however, at this point having you here may well put you in danger...and if there’s anything we cannot afford, it is to lose anymore lives.” With a final nod, the guards forcibly carried him away, the teenager still screaming at his father to stop, pleas that fell on deaf ears and hardened hearts.

“Well, now what? Any more brilliant plans, Vidocq?” Hunter asked sarcastically, though everyone remaining knew there wasn’t much they could do, at least not indirectly. “Adam...what are ye tryin’ t’ prove with all this...?”

“H-He, he’s...oh Adam, don’t do this...no more, please~su...” A tearful Galileo was still combing through the data even as Tell and Adam continue to tear each other apart, both holders now visibly bloody as pieces of their armor started to break away. “Y-You...you won’t survive like this...”

“What’s going on exactly, Galileo?” Despite the overwhelming shock of the situation, Vidocq still maintained his head as their lead strategist. “You mentioned he performed the mode-fusion...”

The spotter nodded slowly. “Yes, at least that’s what I think...the data, it’s not like anything we’ve seen before~su...my best guess, is h-he somehow...forced Jack the Ripper and Nightingale modes to fuse simultaneously, again...but, the numbers...they’re all so, extreme...” A tear slid from her eye as data streamed continuously across her goggles. “His energy levels are way off the charts, even higher than when he was in his prime...but the toll it’s taking on his body...I, I don’t what he did to gain this power—but, eventually...it will kill him...”

The remaining holders glanced at each other warily, their attention still half-focused on the aerial fight. Vidocq’s easy chair was once again spinning its gears, even though its holder was already exhausted. 

“...Dogoo, is there something more about the e-genes themselves that might trigger this? Especially in the case of Jack the Ripper and Florence Nightingale...it would not be inaccurate to say, that technically, Adam Muirhead is a holder to two e-genes, would it...”

“...No, I suppose not. When I met with Nightingale all those centuries ago, we were aware and did agree upon, that both her own powers, and that of ‘Jack the Ripper’ would be necessary for the planet’s future; however the risk it might pose. Just as the ‘Voice of God’ can never be fully controlled...we knew, there would be a possibility that Jack the Ripper could become more powerful over time, a chance he could influence a holder independently from Nightingale.”

The creases in the strategist’s brow grew deeper as his AU weapon calculated furiously. “...If so, and given the data Galileo’s collected...I wonder, is it possible...that Adam is no longer in full control...let alone Nightingale...”

“Wait a minute, ye cannae mean—” Hunter’s eyes widened in shock as the pieces started falling into place, little by little. “My god...are ye insinuatin’ tha, that...his e-gene has somehow...possessed him? Is that even possible?”

“Wasn’t there one recorded incident, of something similar a long time ago?” Nostradamus’ quiet voice spoke up at last. “With the e-gene holder of Christopher Columbus...the ‘runaway e-gene’ incident, I believe it was called? An e-gene who had become corrupted and in turn twisted its holder...”

“You are correct, Nostradamus. Christopher Columbus was one of the first e-gene holders we recruited, and formed the original Second Platoon along with William Tell and Robert Capa. But eventually, the corruption overwhelmed him and he lost control to the e-gene—either voluntarily or involuntarily, we don’t know—but it became a mindless, destructive force, so we had no choice but to stop him. Permanently.” Saint-Germain’s voice carried no trace of hesitation, even as he looked away. “Which means, if the same thing has indeed happened, and Adam is experiencing another ‘runway e-gene’ through Jack the Ripper...”

“We must stop him. No matter the cost.”

At this statement however, Hunter could bear it no longer; instead slamming his fists against the forcefield, the bubbles around Dogoo boiling more than usual. “That’s complete bullshit! So Adam loses control to Jack the Ripper, because yeh sure, who wouldnae be tempted to make a deal wit’ the devil after all the fucked-up shit he went through—and yur only response is to murder him in cold blood?!” Even Vidocq and Saint Germain seemed unnerved by Hunter’s rage, given the anatomist’s usually conservative attitude. “Fuck this! Fuck you all t’ hell!” Slamming the consoles one last time, before he stormed out in a fury. “I’m through wit’ all ‘f you; I dinnae care if it’ll cost me my own life, but I am not going to let you just kill him like this!”

“Hunter, wait~su!” Galileo tried to stop him, but even she was pushed away coldly. Tears ran unchecked down her face, and now she was truly questioning, for the first time, if they were still doing the right thing. “V, Vidcoq...are we, really going to, have to...”

“...I, Saint-Germain, the executive commander of DOGOO, will take full responsibility for any and all actions committed by any other members of DOGOO. As such, William Tell...you are authorized to use any means necessary to prevent another runaway e-gene.” Saint-Germain paused only for a moment, before nodding in slight agreement with Dogoo. 

“Even if it is through lethal force.” ------ “Adam! Call it off! We’re both wasting our time and energy—I know you know this! Adam!” Tell grimaced as he dodged another strike from the winged holder, but not without adding another red streak to what little of his face that remained exposed. “God dammit...! You can’t be serious...”

The other said nothing, only rushed at him with a speed Tell hadn’t thought possible anymore, except back in the days when both holders were in their prime and fighting the Objects. Saint-Germain’s authorizations for lethal force had come through minutes earlier, but the Swiss marksman couldn’t bring himself to do so...yet. Even though he knew full well the risks of a runaway e-gene, and the certain consequences it would bring if Adam was not stopped soon...

‘It’s not even about Adam’s feelings at this point—it’s the e-gene itself wrestling control from its host; whether through false promises or else strong-arming...’ As it had been in the case with Christopher Columbus, decades ago; even before Adam or Sio had joined DOGOO he’d led the Second Platoon then, with Capa and Columbus. He should’ve known then as the leader, when Columbus started exhibiting strangely anti-social behaviors, but put it down to just ‘stress’.

And then...

“Oy! What’s the matter, the guard dog realizing he’s all bark and no bite?” The archer swung back right before the claw carved an actual hole into the armor, instead cleaving a large gash in Tell’s hoverboard. “Tch, sneaky bastard...” The fight was dragging longer than he’d preferred, but Tell was no slouch—not that Adam expected the match to be easy. In truth, had both men been at their optimal peak, they would be evenly matched: both holders were capable of flight, and while Adam specialized in melee combat versus Tell’s long-range arrows, their power levels were on equal footing. Even with the boost he’d already sustained a couple wounds, though nothing too serious yet. ‘Jack, you’d better be sure about this advantage...!’

It seemed the spirit heard, or at least was telling the truth. Three parries and a counterstrike against the barrage of arrows Tell was raining down on him—in one swift movement, his blade caught the tip of an arrow and he flung it back, the explosion nearly knocking the archer from the sky as his board swung wildly, Adam moving in for the kill. “You’re dead—!”

A sharp pain pierced his chest, and at the last second the blade swerved to the left, missing Tell’s artery by inches. “Urgh—wh-what th...” Another convulsion of pain wracked him, forcing Adam to circle back, while Tell looked on in confusion and amazement.

‘Jack! Th’ bloody hell is going on?! My heart...’

 ‘...Ah. It seems our time is nearly up.’

‘What?!’ 

Before Jack could respond however Tell was rushing towards him again, taking advantage of Adam’s momentary weakness and pinning the holder in a vice, unable to fly away nor draw his blade close enough for a swing. “Listen Adam, I don’t know what the hell’s going on in your head, but you need to calm down and stop this at once—”

“Get...off!” Adam struggled, but Tell’s hold was firm. “Ugh...” His heart was pounding like a machine gun as he spat out a mouthful of blood, and Adam knew he didn’t have much time left.

‘I granted you power, yes, and you saw its strength firsthand. But that power only applies so much as your body can take it...and you, as one who has already done so much to yourself...’

Emeralds narrowed into slits at those words, as Adam vainly fought for breath while his chest grew tight. ‘In other words...I’m dying, aren’t I?’

‘...Eventually, yes. This power isn’t meant for humans, even a genetically-enhanced one such as yourself. You are already breaking down on the genetic level; unless you can overcome William Tell before then, you’ll quite literally fall apart.’

Even Jack’s tone was grave for once, Adam stilling for just a second as the realization slowly sank in.  

So, Nightingale was right...of course she would be. How many times had she begged him to not listen to those honeyed words? No, not just his e-gene—but his friends, family...

Niall’s pleas to not leave his son to fend for himself. Mahesh and Jess’ sorrowful looks each time they tried to coax him into joining them for one thing or another, instead of shutting himself away. The sympathetic glances from all the staff and crew, and even the random, sometimes-anonymous messages sent from well-wishers across the globe. 

And his own son...

‘What am I supposed to do?! I don’t know anything—how can I make your name heroic if you’re just going to run off like this?! Please father, you can’t leave me! I can’t lose you too...’

Those memories and words pierced him, even more strongly than the pain now radiating outwards across his entire body. He vaguely heard something from Jack warning him about his DNA unwinding, but even that felt like a faraway dream. Was this really all worth it? Had he made a mistake when that first notion of revenge reared its head, long before Sio and his daughter died—in fact hadn’t he grappled with whether DOGOO was doing the right thing once before? Why had he been able to rally himself then, and not now? What had changed...except everything?

No. No no no; they took everything away from him; his family, life, and a beloved sniper with maroon eyes and a smile that often seemed too big for her face...

“Adam—!” Tell let go in shock, unable to grasp the metal shards that were now sprouting along the other holder’s wings. “Stand down, you’re badly injured! I know your heart can’t take much more; you need to stop this nonsense and get treatment—”

“Shut up!” The claw thrust forward, but even Tell could see his power was waning, only leaning back slightly to dodge the half-hearted attack. “What...would you understand about loss and suffering...Xhavit...” Tell’s real name ground out between gritted teeth, as Adam forced the metal shards to fire, only to nearly fall from intense pain that followed as his heart seemed to squeeze until it was fit to burst. “Aauugh! Fuck...this...!” It was all he could do to even remain in the air, struggling to prevent the AU weapons from vanishing as he fought wave after wave of agony. Blood seemed to be seeping out everywhere: his eyes, nose, coating the inside of his mouth with the vile scent of warm copper as he barely resisted the urge to heave.

“Tell! Now’s your chance. If you can’t restrain him, then finish him. That’s an order,” Saint-Germain’s voice cut in coldly, as Tell attempted to grab the other holder, but still he couldn’t get close enough beyond the rows of spiked feathers, nevermind Adam’s sword that was still attempting to decapitate him. “What are you waiting for? If you let him continue, there’s no telling what he’ll do!” 

The arrows pulled back but Tell hesitated; his target was right there, a mess of blood and metal wings but he was weakening; he could see the tremors of pain running through the other man’s body, hear the pained wheezing as Adam struggled for breath while still attempting to lash out. 

“Adam...please, that’s enough. Don’t make me do this,” Tell warned. He could fire right now and end the battle—he should, and yet... An image from thirty-some years earlier came flashing forward, a towering abomination of limbs and flesh-fused metal that was only barely human lunging towards him and Capa, screaming at them to end its life...

“If...yer really not just all bark...then why don’t ya do it?” The archer startled out just in time, narrowly avoiding another slash while Saint-Germain barked at him to stop stalling, that Adam was very likely beyond saving at this point. “I know you want to...and they’re tellin’ you...so just end it already.”

“Adam...!”

“Unless, you want to die—!” Despite his own pain Adam surged forward, literally knocking headfirst into the archer and sending him swerving across the sky to regain his balance. There was no point in holding back now; whether by Tell’s hand, or his own body’s degradation, Adam knew his time was up. Everything was coated with a haze of pain, from simply drawing a breath to to forcing his wings to continue flying. If it weren’t for Jack’s power holding him together, he was sure his heart would’ve burst by now.

“...No!” In one moment, and with total disregard for his own safety, Tell let the claw pierce his side. A gush of blood went flying but Tell ignored it, ignored the searing pain as he finally grappled the other holder, this time determined not to let go, feather and blades be damned. “No, Adam. Death and killing...they’re not always the only way out. I know this. You know this. Mindless destruction...we’ve both had enough, haven’t we?”

“Nnngg...! No...stop!” Adam tried to reach behind for Tell, but suddenly everything seemed so weak, so tired...he doubled over as pain pierced his chest again, so strong that he couldn’t help but cry out.

“Adam! Command, we need a medical evac—!”

“...No...don’t, bother...” His vision blurred and sounds were all strangely muddy, even Jack’s voice nothing more than a faint whisper. “I’m dying, and they know it...all, I want now...is to just see her again. Just do it, Xhavit...kill me, and let me rest...please...”

“Nay Adam, I willnae allow it! Xhavit, you’d better not try anything stupid!” Hunter dashed out among the concrete pillars, grappling to the highest point of the command center he could reach. “Dinnae you listen to those orders Xhavit! Adam, we can still help you! I can still help you! Adam!”

Niall... Why was he still continuing to fight, to struggle when Adam himself had already long given up? What was it about Niall that allowed him to continue holding on to hope, however false it may have been? Perhaps it was proof then, proof that people like Niall and Xhavit and even Henri were better than him, more capable and worthy of life compared to him. After all...how could a the embodiment of humanity’s worst fears ever be worthy of true happiness... A surge of pure despair and hatred towards himself rushed through him, overcoming even the pain as Adam felt his mind fall into an unknown haze as a feeling of disconnect from his body numbed all other senses.

‘There’s no going back at all from this. You cannot ever be considered human from here on out. And it should go without saying, but you definitely will not survive.’

‘Yeh, I know. That’s fine. It’s something I’ve wanted...for a while now.’

‘...Heh, you surprised me Muirhead. Perhaps even...impressed me. You an’ me, we might’ve actually gotten along...had we met under different circumstances.’

Jack’s voice seemed to fade away into a void too, after that. And then there was nothing more, no other voices telling him what to do or how to do it, no more phantoms or pleas from his memories, or even the soul whom he was supposed to be the reincarnation of. Only a lingering feeling of sadness, or maybe it was regret, but he was too tired to figure out which one it was...

“Adam—!”

“What th—oh, jesus fuckin’ christ...!”

It grew, the metal melting and oozing like a hideous slime as the AU weapons distorted before their very eyes, covering Adam until he was barely visible as the goo seemed to grow and reshape everything. Long, twisted spikes shot out from all angles to what could only be assumed as ‘limbs’, while feathers seemed to grow and disappear at random, as if the being was trying to figure out how to even structure itself. Something akin to blood kept dripping from cracks and gashes, only the color and viscosity seemed closer to an oily sludge. A monstrous, half-formed wing made up of both organic and metal feathers shot out suddenly, precariously held in place by sinewy strands of muscle, and the whole thing seemed to quiver as a rumbling noise vibrated from deep within the creature, as if moaning in its own agony.

“It’s another runaway e-gene! Commander, what should we do?”

“Oh no...! No, no no no...this can’t be happening~su!”

“Tell, Hunter—if you aren’t prepared to stop it then retreat immediately!”

Tell let go but hovered a short distance away, too stunned by the awful metamorphose before him as Hunter could only watch in growing horror from his position. “By th’ name of all that is good and holy...Adam Muirhead, what’ve ye done...” A monster, that was the only word left to even begin describing the...thing, or creature, that was now lumbering in front of them. Nothing remained that could even vaguely be described as human, except for a continued, echoing moan that sent a shudder of despair down both holder’s spines. “Adam...! Oh no, please mate, ye cannae—tell me yur still in there!”

“Niall!” In a split-second the remaining holders tumbled against the ground, Tell tackling the anatomist just before giant shard of metal pierced the very spot he’d been standing. “C’mon, we can’t stay here any longer! When a holder turns into a runaway e-gene...there’s nothing more we can do for them. Trust me, I know...from experience.”

“But—”

“—No time for ‘buts’ Niall—oh shit get down!” 

First came the wave of metallic feather shards, raining in every which direction and seemingly capable of piercing through several inches of solid concrete. Shouts were heard from the command center as a metal tendril whipped through the control tower, sending glass flying every which way as the unluckier members of DOGOO were flung into the cloud of smoke as debris rained from the sky. 

“Commander, we need to get out here!”

“All remaining DOGOO personnel evacuate immediately!”

“Adam! Stop this, ye gotta come t’ yer senses! Please!” But even Hunter could only watch in shock as what was left of his friend, now a grotesque, swollen abomination of alien metal and human guts, barreled towards them with a primal roar before everything seemed to implode and explode at the same time.

Oh Sio, I’m so, so sorry...

Sorry...

So— ----- “C—mander—py? I r—eat does an—opy?”

Smoke and ash were falling in a quiet hush when the anatomist regained consciousness. Next to him, the archer was also stirring, as the emergency broadcast continued in their radios.

“Bloody hell...wha happened...Adam, he...!” Niall looked around in shock, surveying the damage and destruction, most of which was unfortunately centered around DOGOO’s main command center. “Oh no...”

“He couldn’t live with it. Either with his fate...or himself. And so he was determined to bring us down with him...” Xhavit sighed heavily as he pulled the other holder up from the wreckage. “Fucking hell, I shouldn’t have hesitated...should’ve just ended it in one, clean shot, like he wanted...”

“No need for such self-deprecation, William Tell.” Both holders spun around as Commander Saint-Germain picked his way through the rubble, glasses cracked but still sitting on the bridge of his nose. “You were under immense pressure...everything that happened today, shouldn’t have in the first place, had we been more careful...”

“Tch, oh yeh, now ye fools start thinkin’ ‘bout what ye could’ve done? Load a good that’ll do...” muttered Niall, but without any viciousness. “What ‘bout the others? Henri, Valentina...”

“Vidocq and Galileo are both unhurt, along with Nostradamus. They managed to evacuate with Dogoo and the last of the controllers...though as for the base itself, I cannot say the same...” The three men stared silently at the smoldering wreckage. “This will set us back quite a bit...”

“Somehow, I cannot help but feel it was intentional,” a French accent chimed in, as Henri arrived with Dogoo in tow. “As Nostradame said, Adam’s feelings of frustration and vengeance...” The strategist only shrugged but didn’t finish his sentence.

“Even though he was aware that DOGOO is the Earth’s last and only line of defense against the Invasion Objects? And that hurting us will only hurt those he cared about?” The bubbling voice of Dogoo was accompanied by the creaks as it struggled to move itself over the debris. “Once again, my limited knowledge of human nature shows itself...”

"Forget it, all this...in the end, I can’t tell if fate just had it out fer him, or we just got unlucky.” Niall sighed heavily, too tired to shed anymore tears. “At least, ye can finally rest now, Adam...you and Sio both, together. It’s what ye wanted fer so long...”

“Human emotions...or rather, the human capacity for love. Perhaps its true force can only be understood by that of a human, and not an outsider...” The others gave the alien a questioning look, but said nothing else.

“All this time we have labelled the Evolutionary Objects as monsters without peer, yet now I cannot help but think, perhaps the darkness that resides in all of humanity...may be just as monstrous.”

There was no answer.

[saficsky-blog]

Her One Good Thing (bechloe  pp3 one-shot) ~

Description: Beca walks away from DJ Khaled's offer, unwillingly to abandon the Bella's, unwilling to abandon Chloe. OR Bechloe fluff, angst, and the Cups song duet we all know we wanted taking place in a hotel room. Words: 6828 Ao3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13167213 I decided to post my fic here too(but this site is weird and I don’t know if I’ve posted it on here right). I just really wanted a bechloe version of the cups song. I’m such an unmotivated human...but I also really want to create a multi-chapter story with these two in canon verse eventually. It will just take planning, which is hard T__T. Anyways....

Her One Good Thing ------- Beca walks at a pace not much slower than the rate at which her heart is pounding. The sound of her heels hitting the hallways reflective tile floor echo throughout the increasing space between her and the room she just left. She refuses to even entertain the idea of looking back at what she is sure are the shocked faces of Theo and DJ Kahled—or…apparently Billy? “God, why are important and successful people always so weird?” Beca lets out a breathy huff with the thought. Exasperation leaks out of her tiny body, more so than usual, making her broody aura just a bit more intense. She’s sure they think she’s crazy, because how could anyone turn down such an offer given to them by the DJ Kahled, famous DJ, record producer and label executive. The great Billy himself? Beca falters a bit in her step. “Am I being…?” She slows to a stop, the hallway becoming eerily silent in the absence of her steps forward. More thoughts begin rising in her head, doused in the waves of uncertainty rolling through her mind. “Ugh!” She groans aloud, as she shakes her head in a poor attempt to rid herself of the storm in her head. “No Beca,” she mumbles to herself as she continues her trek down the hall, “Just…no.”

-------

Beca makes her way through the hotel and up the elevator, until she finds herself walking down the hallway she’s been sharing with the Bella’s. The floor here is covered in dark carpet and appears well kept, but Beca is sure if one is really looking they could make out the darker spots with causes she would prefer to remain unknown. Still, the hotel is nice, and they thankfully aren’t stuck having to fit nine girls into just one room again. Beca shudders at the memories of waking up with Jessica’s foot shoved in her face. Even worse, the time she woke up screaming “Snake” and yanking the covers off the bed just to find Lily staring at her blankly, Beca’s big toe fit snugly in her mouth. Then there was that one time…with Chloe. A blush begins creeping its way up Beca’s face at that specific memory. “Ugh, God,” Beca shakes her head hard for the second time in what she considers to be way too short of a time span, “What is up with my head today?” Swallowing thickly and forcing heated air out her nose, she makes her way to the door of the room she has been sharing with Chloe.

As soon as she opens the door she is hit with the smell of citrus and cinnamon. Really, Chloe’s most beloved body spray is called Cinnamon Citrus. In her mind Beca thinks the combination odd, imagining sticks of cinnamon floating in a glass of orange juice. A concoction that sounds disgustingly sweet and bright to Beca. Yet, on Chloe it is palatable. She smiles softly, wallowing in the fragrance that her body instantly recognizes as home. The thought of Chloe reapplying the scent for a certain military hunk rises, along with an increasingly familiar heat of jealously between her ears. Beca forces the thought and feeling down, an action she has repeated multiple times since first landing on the military base. “So not needed now,” she thinks to herself whilst kicking off her heels by the door. There are two full sized beds in the room. Beca makes her way to the one furthest into the room and closest to the window. She flings herself backwards on the mattress, letting herself sink in as far as she can go. Her eyes close and for a few moments she feels utterly relaxed atop the plush hotel comforter, the dark serenity behind her eyelids, and the sweet and recognizable air she breathes in.

Of course, this moment of peace is interrupted by a sudden vibration in her right back pocket. “Fucking, technology,” Beca grumbles and puts in the most minimal amount of squirming to remove her phone from her pants. She brings her phone above her face with her hand and see’s that it is a new update from the Bella group chat. Unlocking her phone, she sees the message and the picture attached. It is a message from Stacie that reads, “Here with baby Bella and rooting for all you Bella’s!” A picture of Stacie holding the brown-haired infant against her cheek, snug in her arms, falls below the message. Beca can do nothing to stop the smile that spreads across her face at the sight of Stacie and her little girl. A new message pops up from Ashley, ‘Too frikin adorable Stace!’ Followed soon by another from Aubrey, ‘Thanks Stacie <3! Bella looks so beautiful! Just like her mommy!’.

Beca lifts her other arm out of its hibernating state at her side and attempts to type out her own message, but instead finds her thumbs trembling. She rereads Stacies message. Zeroes in on how Stacie is rooting for all of them, not just one, not just Beca. She thinks back to less than fifteen minutes ago when she stood alone before DJ Kahled. She thinks back to her moment of hesitation in the hallway and feels guilt churning in her gut. The uncertainty makes its way back to the forefront of her mind like storm clouds and suddenly the phone in her hands seems to weigh a ton. She only makes out the first few words of a message just sent by Cynthia Rose, before she tosses her phone away from her with a loud sigh.

Beca covers her eyes with her hands and rubs slow heavy circles around her eye, before slowly dragging her fingers down the sides of her face. Her hands cup her cheeks as she stares up at the white ceiling above her. While the view in front of her in blank, in her mind all she can see is the faces of the girls who have become her family over the years. She hears Cynthia Rose’s laugh, feels Fat Amy’s incredibly rough, but somehow still affectionate touches, she sees the sparkling blue of Chloe’s eyes. Thinks of the banter between them. Remembers the jokes—many of which have been directed at Beca’s height—and swears she can feel the love in her bones, but maybe that is just the sensation of her phone vibrating constantly on her bed right now. “I’d never leave you guys behind. I promise,” Beca thinks with as much steel as one could muster up for a thought. With that, Beca flings herself into an upright position and moves to grab her laptop and wireless headphones off the nightstand between the two beds in the room. “Screw the competition and Theo and DJ Billy,” Beca says under her breath as she opens up her laptop to clear her mind of everything. Her hands move through the familiar motion of placing her headphones over her head, and the sensation of the ear pads against her ears is also one that makes Beca feel like she is at home. With a new smile on her face, a mind set on unwinding, and a few clicks, Beca opens up iTunes and starts playing her “My Mixes” playlist. She sits on the edge of her bed facing the window with closed eyes and a rhythmic sway to her head.

Of course, this blissful moment was ruined approximately seven minutes later when the first few notes of a certain mix came on. It wasn’t that this mix was bad or unenjoyable, actually quite the opposite. This mix was amazing. This mix was something that Beca spent a week of late nights on, in the studio at her workplace. Hours of layering and mashing beats and vocals, hours of tweaking to assure ever pitch was perfection. She is a Producer and she produced something amazing, something ACA-fucking amazing, not that she’d ever describe it that way to anyone outside her family of awesome nerds. Still that little guy, little shit, had the nerve to call her mix trash? The worst part is he isn’t the first one to give her their false opinion on her mixes. Beca loves making music, she does, she really truly does, but— “FUCK I hated that job!” Beca groans loudly into her hands, before jabbing her finger at the laptops spacebar to silence her amazing mix. The negative memories of her job resurfacing in her mind, drag her memory of the offer just made to her along with them. Beca loves the Bella’s and she means that silent promise towards the ceiling with every fiber of her five feet and one inch body, but she can’t pretend that the offer still isn’t appealing. Beca knows this opportunity is huge. She knows the creative freedom she would be allowed in her new career would be miles above her old job. Still, the idea of leaving the Bella’s behind and performing without them tears her apart. After all, she would never be where she is without them. Beca thinks back seven years, to when she first came to Barden University. Unmotivated, unwilling, and with an aura even more broody than the one she carries now. She thinks about the hard time she gave her father back, and how far their relationship has come since. She silently thanks him for pushing her so hard to just leave her room. She remembers how ridiculous, but endearing Fat Amy was since the moment she met her in front of what she mistakenly thought was a booth for a DJ club. Walking across the green back to her room after signing up for the college radio station, Beca never had any intention of stopping. She’d already coldly ignored multiple students trying to get her attention by shouting and shoving fliers in her face, but then there was Chloe. Chloe who’s twinkling blue eyes managed to melt just enough of Beca’s cold exterior to stop her in her tracts, reel her in, get her to simply listen. Then there was Chloe again, in her shower…naked. Heat rises to Beca’s cheeks at the memory, but the warmth on her face is nothing compared to warmth she felt singing with Chloe back then. It was like layers of ice were melting off her heart and dripping down the drain next to their bare feet.

Beca likes to pretend that it wasn’t the connection she felt to Chloe in that moment that drew her to auditions, but she knows it was. Without Chloe, she’d probably be broke and friendless in LA. Now she’s broke in Brooklyn…and technically unemployed, but she has friends! She has Chloe, the girl who not too long-ago was sitting at a bar, crying, because she wanted to be with the Bella’s more than anything. Now here Beca was, toying with the idea of leaving the Bella’s behind. She couldn’t possibly be a worse friend. Beca swings her feet back and forth against the side of the bed, and glances around the room, trying to get a bit of her mind off of all the self-loathing she’s been doing within the past hour. Her eyes glance down at a rumpled sleeping shirt on the floor by her feet she told herself she’d pick up a day ago and up at the blue sky through the rooms window, then to the two folded up towels on a table by the door that look like swans kissing. Finally, her eyes land on a small plastic cup sitting on the nightstand between the bed that Chloe had been drinking out of the night before. The sight puts a small smile on Beca’s face. She gently closes her computer and stretches across the bed to grab the cup, before returning to sit back on the edge of her bed. She turns the cup in her hand, rubbing her thumb along the ridges circling the cup and trying her hardest not to think about how absolutely weird she is being by staring at this cup so longingly. She knows why Chloe brought that blue cup with her to the Bella’s reunion. Chloe has never held back from letting Beca know she loves the music she has created, and the cups song is something Chloe loves. There have been multiple occasions over the years where Chloe has tried to get Beca to perform the cups song for her again. Something that she has always declined, only ever feeling total embarrassment when thinking back to her impromptu audition in her freshman year. The closest she has come to doing it again was in her senior year at Aubrey’s camp, and well how could she resist joining in when Chloe’s voice was both melting and reeling in her heart at the same time? Chloe isn’t even here now, but still Beca can’t help but feel something tugging. That same feeling from the shower, and at auditions, in the tent, during the campfire, hiding from Theo, and all the in between moments at Barden and in Brooklyn. This sensation too, feels like home. Beca doesn’t want to ever do something to make it end. “I got my ticket for the long way ‘round,” Beca begins to sing softly to the cup in her hands, bobbing her head along to the familiar tune. “Two bottle ‘a whiskey for the way,” she continues to sing, and while she is staring at the bright red plastic in her hands, the red she is imagining it a completely different shade. “And I sure would like some sweet company, And I’m leaving…tomorrow,” Images of the Bella’s looking broken over Beca taking the offer spill into her imagination. Chloe is there in the front, the same twinkling eyes that drew her in at the activities fair are dripping tears. Wetness begins pooling in Beca’s own eyes. Her hands tighten around the cup, creating uneven noisy folds where her finger tips press in. “Wha-do-ya-say?” Beca asks aloud the question ending the first verse. Of course, not expecting an actual answer, but this past hour hasn’t gone exactly as expected for Beca to begin with.

-------

Beca loves her headphones, she loves them because they’re wireless, play both the highs and lows of her beats beautifully, and have amazing active noise cancellation that can drown out Amy’s loud singing in the shower even without music playing. So of course, Beca didn’t hear the red head opening the door behind her. Nor did Beca see her eyes and grin both widening to a hypnotizing size as her ears heard the lyrics flowing from the girl sitting on the edge of her bed, completely unaware she was being watched. Beca surely didn’t hear the slow approaching footsteps behind her, and she wasn’t in the slightest bit aware of the woman gently placing her hands on the soft bed and slowly leaning towards her. So of course, when Chloe placed her head just inches behind the brunette and sang out the next lyric, “When I’m gone,” Beca nearly had a heart attack.

“DUDE!?” Beca shouts in the middle of literally flinging herself off the bed to the floor below. She barely manages to get her hands out to catch herself before her head slams too hard against the floor, headphones flung off mid-flight, the cup jetted off to a corner somewhere, and the sleeping shirt lying close by as unceremonial as its owner. Beca looks up at the bed from her position on the floor to see Chloe’s big blue eyes staring down at her, with an upset furrow in her brows. “Why’d you stop singing?” Chloe says, almost pouting. Beca scoffs. “Dude, there is a literal chance I’ve been concussed and that is what you care about?” Beca asks in exasperation. Chloe reaches out a hand for Beca to take and rolls her eyes. “Oh please. We both know you’ve been through much worse.” Images of a militant Aubrey and Lily cutting Beca down from a bear trap spring up in both of their minds as Beca takes Chloe’s hand, pulling herself into an upright position. She picks up the headphones lying next to her, checking for damage, before tossing them gently on the bed. “Right. Never ever going camping again,” she says while rubbing the back of her head and standing up to go sit on the bed next to a guilty looking Chloe who looks at the spot Beca hit her head with genuine concern. Beca sighs and intercepts what she feels to be an unnecessary apology. “My head is fine Chloe.” “I’m still sorry. I just couldn’t help myself when I heard you singing that song,” Chloe says with raised sheepish shoulders. Beca huffs out a laugh, trying not to stare at the way Chloe nervously bites her lower lip. “Yeah, I guess I should be used to you invading all my personal boundaries over a song by now,” Beca replies in her usual sarcastic tone. She expects Chloe to smile at the obvious reference to their shower duet, but instead her shoulders drop as she stares at Beca. The little crease of a scar on Chloe’s forehead deepens from the furrowing of her brows, the sight putting a frown on Beca’s own face. “Chlo, I told you my head is fine,” Beca says, making sure to put extra emphasis on “fine”. She shakes her head from side to side. “Nothing rattling inside. Nothing to worry about.” Beca even throws on a big grin to try to wipe the sad look off of Chloe’s face. It doesn’t work. “You were crying,” Chloe states. “Oh shit,” Beca thinks. If there is one thing Beca hates more than crying, it is other people knowing she has cried. It isn’t that she doesn’t trust Chloe enough to cry in front of her. Truthfully, she has cried a handful of times in front of Chloe over the years. After graduation and before the Brooklyn apartment arrangement was made, when she didn’t know when she’d see her best friend next. When her and Jesse broke up, and when she found out how fast he moved on. The time Chloe somehow talked her into watching a compilation of sad Disney movie scenes on YouTube in their bed, and when Beca made her promise to take the fact that the Beca Mitchell cried over Bambi with her to the grave. It is just that she doesn’t like people worrying over her, especially not Chloe. Beyond that, she totally isn’t interested in explaining to Chloe that she was literally crying over a plastic cup while thinking of her, and that she has spent the past hour drowning from the guilt of just her thoughts. “I, uh—.” “And don’t you go trying to deny it!” Chloe snaps before Beca can finish stuttering out a half decent excuse. “I couldn’t tell from when I was behind you, but now that I can see your eyes, I know you were crying.” Beca finds herself faced with steely blue eyes full of resolve, daring her to lie. Releasing a heavy sigh, Beca says, “Listen Chlo…OK…OK sure. I was, but it isn’t a big deal.” Unfortunately, Chloe isn’t at all willing to accept Beca’s desire to shrug off whatever emotions she was feelings that led to her state. “Beca, every time you cry is a big deal!” Beca scoffs in response. “Um, need I remind you of the Bambi incident mam,” she says waggling a finger at Chloe who gasps in disbelief. “Beca! Bambi is totes a big deal!” Chloe says in a tone so serious that Beca can’t decide whether to laugh, or stare in awe at how absolutely unreal the woman next to her is. “Anyways don’t you go trying to distract me away from the situation,” Chloe says causing Beca to groan loudly. “Dude, there is no situation. I just…” Beca trails off and Chloe leans towards her in response. As if their closer proximity would allow her to hear the cause of pain Beca so stubbornly refuses to vocalize. “You just…?” Chloe dip her head down, trying to gently coax the words out of the brunette. Beca exhales and squeezes her eyes tight, seeking some kind of refuge from Chloe’s intense stare. Instead she finds herself back at the campsite, standing before Chloe, fighting with her. She remembers the way Chloe told her to never be afraid of being honest with her after the campfire, and the silent nod she gave her best friend. Beca takes in a deep breath before opening her eyes to meet Chloe’s. “We just...we didn’t make it OK?” A huff of an exhale leaves her mouth and her eyes drift downward, trailing one of the colorful patterns of the comforter. Chloe squints her eyes and shakes her head in confusion. “We didn’t make it? Beca what do you mea—.” Realization enters Chloe’s mind cutting off her question. “Oh….oh...” Beca refuses to look up, afraid of the expression that would match the hurt tone to Chloe’s voice, and her fingers begin pulling at a loose thread on the bed. Suddenly she feels a familiar hand on hers, and watches the way she allows Chloe to sneak her fingers in the spaces between her own. “Becs?” Chloe calls out softly, and Beca finally looks up at the sound of her voice. “You know it’s OK, right? We all did our best.” Chloe gently squeezes the hand she holds, trying to pour as much comfort as she can into the small gesture. She is more than aware of how hard Beca can be on herself when it comes to anything music related. Having spent nights holding her hand in a similar fashion after Beca finds out a piece she made wasn’t as well received as she imagined it to be. “This isn’t your fault. Besides I know I and the rest of the girls were just happy to be togeth—. ” “No, no, no Chloe. Y-you don’t get it,” Beca says interrupting her with a shake of her head. Chloe’s eyes take on a steely sheen once more. “No Beca, I do. I know you’re blaming yourself for us not being good enough! But we all—“ “There is no we OK!?” Beca finally says, her raised voice causing Chloe to flinch slightly. Beca slips her hand out of Chloe’s, and instead grips the bed beneath her. Chloe pulls her hand slowly back to her own lap, not understanding what her friend is telling her. “What do you mean there is no we?” Her voice is soft, and instantly Beca feels guilty for just shouting at her. “I mean…just…we didn’t make it...,” Beca says, voice more of a low mumble than anything by the end. “I did,” she says, and the admission widens Chloe’s eyes and parts her mouth in shock. Beca continues, “Yeah, me. Just me. Stupid Theo and DJ Billy—Khaled, whatever, think that I should just abandon you guys for some stupid label signing. How could they think that? Who do they even—OH!” Beca shouts as she suddenly feels Chloe’s warm body pushed into hers, arms circled around her shoulders, and a curly strand of red hair poking her in the eye. “Dude, can you for once in your life just give me a warning before invading all of my personal space!?” Beca says breathing in a hefty scent of Chloe’s sweet perfume. “We both know if I did that, you’d run,” Choe says into Beca’s neck, her warm breath sending a tiny shiver down the spine of the girl she has wrapped herself around. Beca swallows and blows out a breath trying to push the feeling down. “Well could you blame—woah!” Beca exclaims in response to Chloe gripping her shoulders and pushing her back, till she is directly facing Chloe at an arms distance. Beca is about to complain about being tired of people thinking they can manhandle her just because of her size, but the expression on Chloe’s face stops her. She stares at the way Chloe bites down her trembling bottom lip and how her eyes glisten with unshed tears. A frown stretches across Beca’s face. “Oh no. Chloe please don’t. I said I’m not taking the lame offer.” A short laugh of disbelief escapes Chloe’s mouth, along with the first slow stream of a tear. Shaking her head she says, “Becs…I’m crying, because I’m happy.” Her mouth upturns in a smile and Beca looks at her with her in slight confusion. “You’re happy? Because I turned it down…right?” “What? No, no! I’m happy because,” Chloe grip tightens around Beca’s shoulders, “because you’re amazing.” Beca stares in wonder at the way the woman in front of her is able to say those words as if they were universal fact. To Chloe, Beca is amazing in the same way the sun is aflame and rises every morning. There is no uncertainty Chloe holds about the amazingness of the girl before her. The only time she second guessed Beca was as the girl walked away from her at the activities fair years ago. Their duet in the shower quickly proved to Chloe that the feeling that pulled at her heart the moment she first laid her eyes on Beca years ago wasn’t a fluke. Chloe always knew Beca was special, and now… “And now you’re getting truly recognized for that.” Beca spends a second lost in the pure adoration radiating off of Chloe eyes, before reaching up to pull off the two hands on her shoulders. Chloe’s smile falters as Beca releases her hands. Without shoulders to grip on she falls slightly back away from Beca, watching her throw her hands up in a frustrated gesture. “You guys have already recognized my talents…or whatever! You guys are the reason behind why I’ve gotten as far as I have. Chloe, you’re the reason I’m here right now. And I’m not gonna just—I can’t just, leave the Bella’s behind,” Beca finishes sounding emotionally drained from the harshness of her breaths. “Beca, you aren’t leaving us behind by taking that deal,” Chloe says trying to assure her friend. “More than anything we just want you to be happy.” Beca stares at her in disbelief. “Really dude? Just a few weeks ago you were in a bar crying and saying how you’d do anything to sing together again,” Chloe flinches a bit, remembering how low she felt that night. “There is no togetherness in a solo performance Chlo. The last thing I want is you guys sitting in some audience watching me the way we watched the New Bella’s. I’m not…I’m not doing that to you Chlo.” Chloe stares at the woman in front of her, trying her hardest to take in the care she feels pouring off Beca in waves. She knows that Beca comes across as cold and unapproachable to many people, but Chloe knows her aura of dark, gloomy sarcasm only runs so deep. Chloe understands the way Beca’s heart built up walls to defend itself from all the pain she faced as a child. However, when you are one of the lucky few who find themselves on the other side of those walls, like the Bella’s and Chloe have, you find yourself met with a heart far bigger than most. She knows Beca doesn’t want to hurt her or any of the girls, and she is so appreciative of the woman before her, but she also knows she’s so wrong. “Listen I already told them no, so we should just—.” “You know,” Chloe cuts her friend off, “I spoke with Chicago a few days ago.” Beca tries her hardest to not grimace at the sudden mention of the man’s name. “He helped me realize something. I mean maybe not realize exactly, more like…remember.”

For a moment Chloe’s eyes lose focus, placing herself back in the hotel lobby just days ago. The girls are spread throughout the expensive looking room. Jessica and Ashley attached at the hips and pointing to something outside the tall windows in awe. Cynthia Rose and Aubrey are leaned up against a wall laughing. Closest to her, Fat Amy, Flo, and Beca are huddled together for a silly picture. Beca is smiling through the cookie Fat Amy just put in her mouth, while Flo giggles at the act. Chloe looks on, smiling through watery vision, her heart brimming with the love she feels towards each and every one of these women. Then she is back in the present, heart still spilling over with love, but towards the one women before her. “I remembered that no matter what, we will always be family Becs.” “But—” “No! There is no but Beca. It doesn’t matter what we do, nothing could ever tear us apart! I mean…” Chloe trails off quickly reaching for her phone in her pants pocket. She unlocks her phone and opens up the Bella’s group chat. “Look!” Chloe exclaims and Beca finds herself facing the lit-up screen of Chloe’s phone. Seeing the picture of a smiling Stacie with baby Bella for the second time. “Stacie isn’t even here. She is a mother now, with a whole list of new priorities, but don’t you still feel it Beca? The connection we have to her, the connection that we’ve all held on to since leaving college?” Beca feel her eyes widen at Chloe’s words as she stares at Stacie’s smile, baby Bella’s perfect skin, the words of love trailing after the picture in the chat. The letters suddenly look a little muddled and Beca know her eyes are watering up, knows that Chloe can almost certainly tell. She watches Chloe put the phone down next to her. “I love performing with the Bella’s Beca, I do, but more than anything I just…I just love you all,” Chloe says as a few tears spill down her face, she swipes a few away with her hand. “We are a family, and all I want is for my family to be happy,” she says as Beca feels a tear escape her eye. “Also…I know how much you hated your job,” she tells Beca as she breathes out a giggle. Beca responds with a small chuckle of her own, smilingly helplessly at Chloe. “Yeah I really hated that fucking job huh?” Beca says and the two spend a moment staring into each other’s teary eyes, before laughter spills out of both of their mouths. “Oh God...I can’t believe I’ve done a year’s worth of crying in less than an hour,” she groans while rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. Chloe just smiles endearingly at her friend’s typical sarcastic attitude, before reaching to take the hands in front of her again. Beca lets them be taken, finding solace in the way Chloe’s fingers intertwine with her own. “So, you’ll do it right?” Chloe asks, worrying her bottom lip in fear that Beca might still be afraid. Beca lets out a long sigh. “I mean…I guess—GOD!” And then Beca finds herself once again with an armful of Chloe Beale, this time squealing next to her ear in a pitch Beca isn’t entirely sure she should still be able to make since getting nodes. “Jesus dude! We really need to develop some type of warning system between us.” Chloe just seems to squeeze her tighter in response. “And I mean I want to talk to the rest of the girls first, just to be sure.” “Sounds aca-amazing,” Chloe whispers in her ear and Beca is stuck between wanting to roll her eyes at how absolutely nerdy that sounded and groaning at what the breath in her ear just made her feel. Then Chloe releases Beca, but doesn’t retreat too far from the brunette. “So…” Chloe begins in a voice dripping so heavily of innocence that Beca knows she is planning something that is the complete opposite. Chloe tilts her head away from Beca, her eyes landing upon on an item in the corner. Beca follows Chloe’s gaze. “Oh no.” Upon realization of where Chloe was looking, Beca lets out an overdramatic agonized groan. “Absolutely not,” she says adamantly. “Please! Just sing it for me!” Chloe pouts in Beca’s direction with the biggest puppy eyes she can muster. Beca feels her will crumbling beneath Chloe’s adorable expression. “Chlooooo,” she begs. “You were doing it before. Just pretend I’m not here!” Beca scoffs at the idea, as if she could ever just forget about Chloe’s existence in a room. “No!” She manages to force out, clinging to the scraps of will left within her. “Why not?” Chloe asks, somehow managing to pout even more. “I just! I don’t….I….”Beca trails off, eyes landing on the cup on the floor, then back to meet Chloe’s. She stares into the same big blue eyes that drew her in that day, the ones that changed Beca’s life completely. Chloe’s eyes are staring at her with such a sharp intensity, but the way they tug at her heart is the gentlest Beca’s ever felt. She thinks of the way she held the cup in her hands earlier, thinking of Chloe, feeling at home.

Beca sighs, then reaches out, softly taking Chloe’s hands in her own. “I got my ticket for the long way ‘round,” Beca sings quietly as Chloe’s soft gasp hits her ears. “Two bottle ‘a whiskey for the way,” she continues in a soft voice. Her eyes never leaving Chloe’s as she goes on, “And I sure would like some sweet company. And I’m leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya-say?” “When I’m gone,” Beca smiles as Chloe sings out the lyric alone, then joins back in for the next. “When I’m gone,” they both sing in harmony, with hands still clasped between them. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone. You’re gonna miss me by my hair. You’re gonna miss me everywhere. Oh, you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.” They finish together, both smiling at each other, Chloe’s own smile similar to the same one she gave Beca that day at auditions, total adoration. “Thank you Beca,” Chloe says with genuine gratitude. Her heart is soaring from the moment she just shared with the woman in front of her, but something about her thanks rubs Beca the wrong way. “Why is she thanking me?” Beca thinks to herself. “Chloe you know that you’re…” She falters, squeezing the hands held by her own, trying to gather as much strength as she can from them. “You know that you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, right?” Chloe just stares at her, lips parted in shock. Beca swallows, listening to her heart pounding in her ears, while waves of regret begin rolling throughout her body. Then Chloe is smiling, and the waves slow to a stop. “Oh Beca,” Chloe breathes out, pulling both their hands up so they’re resting on her chest. Beca can feel Chloe’s heart beating beneath her palms, and while the sensation sends something nerve-racking through her body, it also sends strength. She uses that strength to get the rest of her thoughts out of her. “I-I mean it! Like, if you weren’t there that day! And if you hadn’t barged into my shower, as absolutely insane as that was, I would’ve never met the Bella’s. I would totally be depressed and alone somewhere in LA right now.” Chloe squeezes Beca’s hands against her chest. “I would’ve found you eventually,” she says with complete confidence, unable to believe there could be a universe that exists where she doesn’t know Beca Mitchell. Beca smiles softly at Chloe’s assertion. “I hope so,” she responds, and she catches the way Chloe’s eyes flicker down her face, then back up again. Beca can feel a rhythmic pulse throughout her body, but she isn’t sure if it is coming from her own heart or the one beneath her hands anymore. Beca’s own eyes flicker down to Chloe’s lips, feeling herself pulled in by the pinkness of them, feeling that gentle tug at her heart. Her eyes land on Chloe’s once more, something swimming in the woman’s bright iris’s.

 Is it nervousness?

 The two are so close. The air between them is heavy and buzzing. Beca watches Chloe slowly lean towards her.

 Perhaps anticipation?

 Chloe is so close, still clinging to Beca’s hands as if her heart would stop beating without them. Beca can feel Chloe’s breath hit her face. She peers into the pupils of the eyes in front of her. They’re the darkest she’s ever seen them. Her own eyes begin to flutter shut. Desire? “God this woman will be the end of me,” Beca thinks to herself before Chloe’s lips press softly against hers. There is a part of Beca, the part of her that put up her walls and pushed people away, that is telling her to run. Telling her to stop before she gets hurt, gets her heart torn apart by the people she loves again. Maybe a few years ago she would’ve listened to that voice, but Beca is different now. Beca met Chloe, and she is the best thing to ever happen to her. So Beca ignores that voice and presses further into Chloe, lips upturning into a smile. She focuses on the way Chloe’s lips are moving slowly against hers, her sweet scent, and the shared pulse between them. Beca would be more than OK with ending this way. She doesn’t, but the kiss does. Chloe pulls back slowly, eyes spending a few extra moments locked on to the lips she just kissed. Chloe smiles and Beca blushes beneath the intensity of Chloe’s stare, but returns a smile of her own. “Chlo…that was…” Beca begins before a thought pops into her mind. Chloe’s brow furrows at the concern that takes over Beca’s features. Beca takes back her hands, causing a frown to form on her best friend’s face. The brunette casts her eyes downwards, only making Chloe worry more. Was Beca having regrets? “Uh…what about….Chicago?” Beca asks, wondering about the guy Chloe’s been blatantly flirting with this entire trip. Realization slowly washes over Chloe, smoothing the worry out of her brows. “I’m not into him Beca. He’s just cute,” Chloe explains and Beca exhales as a wave of relief washes over her. “Oh,” she says, looking back up at Chloe to find her carrying her own expression of concern. “What’s wrong?” “What about Theo?” Chloe asks, worrying her lip over Beca’s possible response. The response Beca has however, is to burst out laughing at Chloe’s question. “Theo!? Dude, no. He looks like a fucking turtle!” Beca exclaims with a smile. The worry drains from Chloe’s face and then she’s smiling again too. “You know he kind of does look like a turtle,” she says in agreement, smiling and giggling at Beca’s comparison. Smiling, because Beca isn’t interested in Theo, smiling because she just kissed Beca Mitchell, smiling because the best thing to ever happen to her too, is right by her side. “I know! It is kind of weir—Mm!” She finds herself once again cut off by Chloe, as the red head throws her arms back around Beca, fitting herself over Beca’s lap, and pressing their lips back together. Sure, Beca could come up with a dozen snarky comments about the amount of times she has had her boundaries aggressively crossed today, but she doesn’t. Instead she presses further into the lips against her own, wrapping her arms around Chloe, and pulling her in even closer. Chloe is the best thing to ever happen to her. She can cross all the lines she wants, Beca will always let her in. Chloe pulls back slowly again, staring lovingly into Beca’s eyes and finding the same intense affection mirrored in them. Her arms are wrapped around Beca as a smirk begins tugging at her lips. “I still can’t believe I got you to sing my Lady Jam 2.0.” “Y-your what!?” Beca sputters out, as Chloe hops off Beca’s lap running to the room’s bathroom, leaving a trail of giggles behind her. Beca can do nothing but stare with her mouth agape from her bed, heat rising to her cheeks. “Oh, you heard me,” Chloe says, turning back to send a wink in her direction, before disappearing into the bathroom.  With burning cheeks, Beca gets off the bed, and bends to pick up the plastic cup in the corner of the room. She holds the cup in her hands and turns to look at the closed bathroom door, behind which Beca swears she can hear Chloe humming Titanium. With a small shake of her head Beca falls back against her bed. She lets herself sink into the mattress, holding on to the cup with one hand. Her lips stretch into a lazy smirk. “Yup. Totally gonna be the end of me.”