#sick jams yo

[companionwolf]

General Selfship Playlist

wonderwall - oasis

morning is coming - the garages

small hands - radical face

randall marijuana memorial cat cafe - the garages

soap - oh hellos

welly boots - the amazing devil

[not-neverland06]

the newlyweds

Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Logan Howlett x fem!reader (Flux)

a/n: I wrote this at 3 AM and I'm also pretty sure I'm sick, so bare with me. Based on this: ask

You know Logan can't stand you, but it doesn't stop the way you feel about him. Your mind recognizes the hate in his eyes whenever you're in the same room, but your heart can't. Finally, you come to terms with the truth: it's never gonna happen. However, your newfound resolve is flipped on its head when you're forced to go undercover with him as newlyweds. Your new wedding ring is a noose and you don't know how you'll survive it or him.

You stumble forward as someone knocks into you from behind. Their shoulder jams painfully into your ribcage and you trip into the wall in front of you. “Shit,” you hiss, rubbing your back and turning around to glare at whoever it was. You figure it's a kid skipping class, imagine your surprise when it’s a fully grown man practically growling at you. 

“Where the hell am I?” He darts forward, grabbing you by the arms and jerking you towards him. “Who are you people?” You’re stunned into silence, eyes wide with shock as he pushes your spine into the wall behind you. 

You recognize him now. This is the man who was with Rogue in the truck you, Ororo, and Summers rescued. The only reason you don’t toss him across the room and rip his spine out through his throat is because you know how disoriented he is. Though, with the way his claws threaten to pierce your skin, you are tempted to. 

“Ah,” a familiar and welcomed voice sounds out from beside you both. “I see you’ve met Flux.” Charles rarely ever uses your actual name, mainly introducing you through your X-Men persona. It’s a preference of yours. 

The man’s eyes dart between you and Charles, and your own turn into slits the longer he keeps his tight grip on you. “Wanna let me go now?” You demand voice practically a growl. Your patience has never been wonderful, but he’s really working on your last nerve. 

He blinks, seemingly coming back to himself. With an almost regretful look, he lets you go. You sigh in irritation, straightening your shirt out and shoving past the corner he’s pushed you into. “Who the hell is this?” You snap, moving to stand behind Charles. 

He gives you an apologetic look, “I’m not sure. He hasn’t introduced himself yet.” He gives the man an expectant look. Instead of answering he glances around, and scoffs. 

��What is this, summer camp? You people don’t need to know me, I don’t need to know you. Just show me how to get the fuck out, alright?” Finding Charles’ school had been heaven on earth. He’d provided you with a home and a haven you never thought you would have the privilege of. You’d never shown anger in the face of his guidance or generosity. But many have. 

You can tell, as much as the man in front of you might believe otherwise, he’s going to be enjoying the comfort of Charles’ protection soon. You move to the side, leaving them to their conversation. Instead, you focus on keeping the kids away from the newest form of entertainment. You usher them towards their classes, despite their reluctance. 

The other members of the team soon join you all, introducing themselves. “Storm, Cyclops,” he scoffs a little at Scott’s name and you feel a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. He turns towards you, brows furrowed inquisitively, “Flux?”

“Matter manipulation,” you explain bluntly. He shrugs his shoulders giving you a blank look. Sighing you hold out your hand and gesture to Charles’ desk. With a flick of your wrist, it melts into an unnatural form of liquid wood. Logan’s eyes widen and you can’t help but finally let the full smile form on your lips. “Flux was just what fourteen-year-old me thought fit best.”

He nods, turning back towards Charles with a smarmy grin. “And what do they call you, wheels?” Your eyes widen with shock and an unbidden laugh surges forth. Charles sends you a playful glare and you have to turn around to keep from laughing more. 

You’d thought you wouldn’t like this one. It’s always bad when there’s a member on the team you don’t get along with. It’s not common, but it has happened. They simply keep you separated if they can. The school is wonderful, but it’s not perfect. Not everyone will like each other. You think you and Logan will get along just fine, though.

It started slow, barely noticeable at first. You didn’t know him well enough to understand that the way he treats you is completely different from how he treats everyone else. Where your greetings are brushed off with cold shoulders or the occasional glare, others at the very least get a brief mumble of hello. When you speak, you can practically feel the irritation wafting off of him in waves. You taste his hatred in every interaction. 

There’s no exact moment you can pinpoint where you went wrong. Sure, your introduction to one another was rocky at best. But he’d nearly thrown Jean across the room when they first met and they got along just fine. 

You’ve thought about it, for far too long, about what makes you different than the others. Is it your smile? The pitch of your voice? Of course, you understand that sometimes there are just people that you meet and something inside you hates them. There’s never a true explanation behind the feeling, just instinct. 

But you can’t place what about you would make someone so guarded, so mean. It feels like such a childish word, like too simple of a way to explain Logan. The very least you know about him is that he can never be summed up with the word simple. There are secrets buried deep within him, some he knows, others he doesn’t. You can’t just slap a label on him and walk away. 

More often than not, though, you feel like you’re talking to one of your childhood bullies and not a team member. Because, despite your own feelings towards him, at the end of the day you are team members. There’s no getting around it. From that connection comes, what should be, a base level of respect. 

You’re both in charge of protecting one another and looking out for each other on the field. That means when you put on the suit, you’re putting aside petty grievances. But he seems incapable of that as well. 

You’ve spent mornings practicing your greetings, trying to tone down your cheeriness or inflect your voice with a more welcoming timbre. You’ve changed how you dress, how you do your hair, even your makeup. And at the end of it all, you still got the same miserable look and distinct feeling of worthlessness. All of the change has been temporary, you are a creature of habit. Inevitably, you slide back into the same habits and styles that make you, you. 

You feel stupid, trying to change yourself to better fit someone else's tastes. Especially when it’s someone who so clearly despises you. It’s not how you carry yourself, how you look, it’s the mere fact you exist that bothers him. At least, that’s the conclusion you’ve come to in all your months of experimenting. 

It truly shouldn’t bother you so much. There’s always going to be people who don’t like you. There’s nothing you can do about it. And you’ve never had that desire to change other's opinions on you. But something about Logan has dug its claws under your skin and has refused to let go. You can’t get him out of your head, even when you feel like you hate him, he’s all you think about. You’ve considered asking Jean to use her abilities to somehow dig him out of your brain and keep him out. But you don’t think that would work either. 

You step into the kitchen and nearly freeze in the doorway. Logan sits at the island, back to you as he reads the newspaper. You find yourself lightening your steps, quieting your breath. You make yourself as inconspicuous and convenient as possible. Every time you catch yourself doing something like this, you hate yourself just a little bit more. 

You shouldn’t have to alter parts of yourself to better fit someone else’s needs. You slip along the tiles, your socked feet slamming into the corner of the counter as you pass it. “Shit!” You shout, doubling over as you clutch your throbbing toes. 

So much for being inconspicuous. 

Logan’s head shoots up in shock as he glares over his paper at you. You let out a strained whimper, reluctantly releasing your foot and hobbling towards the coffee pot. You’ve taken more bullets than you count, and somehow that still hurt worse. 

You can’t just ignore him, you feel his stare burning into your back, and it feels too dickish-too much like him, to not say anything. “Morning,” you mutter over your shoulder, barely looking at him. You pour your coffee, trying to ignore how daunting the silence seems. You might as well be alone in the room for all the attention he’ll grant you. 

You feel like a beggar, on hands and knees just for a simple hello. Ever since his first night here, he’s been so aloof with you. It’s only devolved since then. You sigh, slamming the mug onto the counter. Something in you has snapped this morning and it’s not just the bones in your foot. You’re sick of this. 

You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. He’s not a toddler, he doesn’t deserve to be coddled and catered to. He’s a grown man, an X-Men for fuck’s sake. What he needs, is to learn a little emotional regulation. 

You turn, mouth open and sucking in a deep breath as you prepare your speech. The island is empty as you face it, his stool in the same place it had been while he was on it. The paper lies abandoned, even his nearly full mug is still on the granite. 

You scoff, snapping your jaw shut and rolling your eyes. “Jesus,” you mutter to yourself. Wonderful, even the same room is too much for him now. Something bitter has been forming in your mind. A rage building from weeks of unprompted cruel behavior. 

Yet, somehow, the thing that pushes you over the edge from interest to resentment is the fact that he didn’t say good morning back. 

You teach history at the school, but the majority of your role at the mansion is to train children with powers similar to yours. You’ve never met a mutant who had such a broad scope with their abilities as you do. Some can turn water to ice, control the blood running through someone’s veins, or make the air around them a solid block. But you’ve yet to meet one who manipulates anything with matter the way you do. 

Still, for training, you deal with the unreliable, untameable, and generally more dangerous abilities. And sometimes for training, you work with other teachers and let your kids practice on each other. It’s a rotating schedule, and unfortunately, the week you’ve decided you hate him, you’re partnered with Logan for training. 

You’ve got the entirety of Charles’ backyard, which is essentially the size of a football field. It’s a lot of room for accidents and accidental misfires. You stand in front of the pond, admittedly a risky choice with these kids, and direct them all to their partners. 

“Remember, the goal of this isn’t to maim each other,” you give a particularly pointed glare towards Billy. He’s caused a lot of problems lately with his fires. “It’s just to learn how to wield your abilities to your advantage, to protect yourself and your team.”

You look to Logan, seeing if he wants to add anything or contribute to the class in some way. He just keeps his arms crossed, glowering at all the children like he’s imagining skewering them on his claws. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the kids. “Let's start with the hand-to-hand maneuvers we went over yesterday before we practice with our abilities.”

“Why don’t you show us?” Your head whips towards Billy and you can’t help the sneer on your lips. He’s sat on the ground, legs crossed leisurely over each other. He doesn’t have a care in the world as he taunts you. 

“What?” You grit out, glaring at him.

“Show us what a balanced fight should look like between mutants. You and Logan,” he nods to the aforementioned man. Logan just quirks a brow, glancing at you before turning back to Billy. 

“I don’t think-”

“Fine.” You gape at Logan as he tugs his jacket off. He shrugs as he looks at you, moving towards the middle of the field. Of course, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to try and pummel you. You’re sure that he’s just been waiting for an excuse to fight you. 

“If that’s what you want,” you mutter bitterly. You pull off your sweatshirt and start walking towards him. 

“Your cuffs,” Billy calls out from behind you. The other students all watch the interaction with rapt attention. They’re practically salivating at the chance to see you two fight each other. Meanwhile, Billy just seems like he wants to see someone bleed. 

The metal cuffs around your wrists are the only thing that stops you from leveling the entire school. Your abilities are so tightly entwined with your emotions that one unlucky bout of anger can lead you to vaporizing everyone around you. They dull your abilities just enough to still be useful but not deadly. You haven’t taken them off in years. And perhaps it’s wrong to lean so heavily on them for protection, but you have. That’s your cross to bear. You don’t even want to picture what will happen if you open that dam. 

“What?” Billy shrugs, sending you a sharp smirk. “How are we supposed to trust you, if you can’t even use your own damn abilities?” He snorts and narrows his eyes at you, “How the hell did you even become an X-Men, Flux?” His name rolls off your tongue with a sharpened venom. 

He oozes hatred and a burning resentment that catches you off guard. It’s too much to process the insults he’s hurling at you and the sudden one-eighty in his personality. You don’t even hear Logan coming until his fist is wrapped in Billy’s collar and he’s yanking him off his feet. 

He dangles him, just a couple of inches, off the ground, teeth practically bared at the kid. “Wanna keep talking, mouth?” 

“Log-” You’re cut off as a fireball shoots out of Billy’s palm and explodes against Logan’s gut. You gasp, throwing up a wall in front of the other kids so it can’t hurt them. “All right,” you call out sternly. “Everyone inside,” you demand, pointing the other kids back towards the manor. 

You linger with Logan, who still has Billy dangling from his fist, only he looks even more pissed off now. Anyone else, and they’d be dust at Billy’s feet. But Logan isn’t anyone else and the only collateral seems to be his shirt. 

Not that you mind the view. 

Billy hasn’t been here long enough to know what Logan’s abilities are, though. You don’t think he actually knew he could heal. The thought alone is worrying enough that you don’t force Logan to let him go. “We need to get him to Charles,” when Logan doesn’t move you put more force behind your voice, “now.”

Logan lets out a low huff before placing Billy back on his own two feet. He doesn’t let him go far, though, keeping his hand around the back of his neck and dragging him forward. You follow behind them, making sure he doesn’t rip him to pieces before Charles can speak with him. 

You sit outside Charles’ office, fingers tapping restlessly against your thigh as you stare at the mahogany walls in front of you. The red velvet of the seat is too soft and you find yourself slipping to the edge every few seconds. It’s too soft, too luxurious, your back aches the longer you wait. 

Charles had instructed both you and Logan to wait for him to finish up with Billy. It’s been nearly an hour, though, and you’re growing restless. You can tell Logan feels the same way. He’s pacing the hall like a caged lion about to rip the arm off its keeper. 

“How are you?” You blurt out, desperate for something to fill the silence. He stops abruptly, whipping around to face you. You flinch back slightly at the intense glare he’s sporting. “Your stomach, I mean,” you gesture towards the scorch marks on his shirt, the soot on his abs. 

It’s been a practice in self-control to not just be staring at his wonderfully sculpted muscles flexing this whole time. You’re pleasantly surprised with how well you’ve been doing so far. Though, now with him facing you, you’re finding it incredibly hard to meet his eye. He’s such an imposing figure, especially when he’s standing over you like this. 

“Fine,” he barks out, turning back around and effectively ending the conversation. Your eyes narrow and you scoff, god, why do you try?

The door swings open and you expect Billy to come running out crying with his tail tucked between his legs. Instead, you hear the familiar whirl of Charles wheels as he rolls into the hall. He faces you and Logan, a strained smile on his face. 

“Where’s Billy?” You slowly get to your feet, peering into his office. Your confusion only grows when you find it empty. 

“He’s away from the other children for now. He’ll need private lessons before we allow him near them again. And if that doesn’t work, we have no choice but to expel him.” You can tell it hurts Charles to say that. 

He does genuinely want the best for these kids. He wants mutants to have a home, a place where they can be themselves without fear of retaliation. Sometimes, though, it doesn’t work out. There’s nothing wrong with that, you all try your best to help the kids. But some of them have been so twisted by the world around them that there’s no undoing the damage. When they pose a risk the way Billy does, the other kids come first. 

Logan scoffs with distaste, stalking closer to Charles. “He tried to kill me, fucking tried to get Flux to take her cuffs off.” He gestures towards you, for once, though, you don’t feel like you’re being attacked. Even he can understand the dangers of that demand is idiotic. It’s clear Billy only wanted to watch everyone around him get hurt, he didn’t care about the consequences. 

Charles holds up a pacifying hand, nodding his head and dismissing Logan’s concerns. “I’m quite aware of what happened, Logan. But Billy is my responsibility and he’s not the reason I needed to talk to you both.”

He rolls back into his office, expecting you both to follow him. You fall in line behind him, taking a seat at his desk. Logan takes another minute to join you both, a reluctant scowl on his face as he sits beside you. Charles waves his hand, the door closing and providing you all with a little bit more privacy. 

He reaches into a drawer on his desk, pulling out a thin manilla folder. He pushes it towards both you and Logan. You share a confused look with Logan before flipping the file open. There are a few pictures of a stereotypical suburban neighborhood. Bright green laws, uniform driveways, each house looks the same as the last. 

There are a few more pictures, all of them taken from an awkward distance that makes it hard to determine what you’re looking at. You pass the pictures to Logan and shake your head at Charles. “I don’t understand, what is all this?”

“Your next mission,” he informs you both with a strained smile. 

Logan’s head shoots up, eyes narrowing in on Charles. “Excuse me?” He demands, his voice a growl more than anything. 

“There have been some disturbing rumors about this neighborhood. Mentions of a possible mutant trafficking ring being conducted behind closed doors. Normally, I would dismiss such claims. Oftentimes these are just ways to bait and snatch mutants. However, my own attempts at telepathic investigation have been thwarted. Even with Cerebro, I can’t seem to breach the neighborhood.”

“Something’s blocking you?” You ask, snatching the pictures back from Logan to get a better look. He tosses the folder back on the desk, muttering something you can’t hear. 

“Or someone. I’m worried there might be some truth to these rumors. And since I can’t find a safe way in, I need your help. You only need to do some reconnaissance. The only problem is how gated the community is. They’re not going to let anyone in unless they live there.”

Charles gives you both a cheekily expectant look. The truth is so hard to swallow that you almost can’t process it. “No,” you mutter, shaking your head and smiling, waiting for the punchline. When one doesn’t come you get up from your seat and give him a disbelieving look. “You want us undercover?”

Charles pulls out a key and smiles widely, “Congratulations on your new home, newlyweds.”

Logan shoots up from his seat, it wobbles precariously, nearly toppling to the ground.  “You want me to move into a house with her?” He spits out the sentence like it pains him to even have it in his mouth. A disbelieving smile spread across your cheeks, sardonic laughter slipping through parted lips. “Why can’t I do it with Jean? Or better yet you just get some other asshole to play her husband?”

Your heart stutters to a stop and you quickly rip your eyes off the pair. The stung worse than you think it should. Your heart aches, each beat painful. You feel like someone’s punched through your chest and ripped at all the tender bits. 

“I have chosen you,” Charles loses all humor from his voice. He is stern, like a father scolding his child, as he speaks to Logan. “And that’s the end of it. Besides, I don’t suppose that Jean’s fiance would appreciate her playing house with another man.” He places heavy emphasis on fiance, enough to get Logan to purse his lips and look away from him.

You speak up, your voice a surprise to them both. You claw through the lump in your throat, ignoring the hot burn behind your eyes. “I’m not doing this. Especially not with him,” you force the words out, wiping roughly at your cheeks. “Shit,” you hiss, looking down and trying to hide the tears that have slowly trickled down. 

You don’t allow either of them to argue, running out of the door and ignoring the calls of your name behind you. You can’t do this. Can’t pretend to be in love with Logan, not when he hates you. Not when it’s so close to the truth. 

Evidently, Charles didn't feel like giving either of you a choice.

You drum your fingers along the door handle. The cab of the truck rattles as the trailer drags along behind you. The trees have begun to thin out on the road, and more shopping centers pop up than you’ve seen this whole trip. It’s the how you know you’re getting closer, that and the map on Logan’s thigh. You steal glances at it because he refused to let you help him navigate. 

Besides the occasional ask for a bathroom break and refuted offer of switching drivers, the four-hour road trip has been quiet. You tried to turn the radio on earlier but he’d shut it off nearly immediately. He claimed that the pop shit they play makes his ears ring. 

You were almost tempted to turn it up to full volume if only to torture him a little bit. 

Logan’s rough voice jars you out of your head, “I’m going to need to know your real name.”

You frown, brows furrowed in confusion. Had you still not given him your actual name? He’s always referred to you as Flux, but you just assumed that’s because he didn’t want you to be an actual person in his eyes. It’s easier to hate someone if you can distance yourself from the idea of them having actual feelings. Still, you can’t believe he never asked someone for it. 

It just shows you how little he cares for you. Reluctantly, you give it to him. He hums, something pensive pinching at his face. “What?” You snap, waiting for him to insult you. 

He just shrugs, “It’s pretty,” he mutters, so quiet you almost don’t hear him. You don’t even know how to respond to that, so caught off guard by a genuine compliment that you just choose to ignore it. You doubt he meant it, anyway. He might think the name is pretty, but he doesn’t hold the same opinion of the person connected to it. 

You sink back into the silence, finding it more comforting than jarring now. You’d prefer the familiar feeling of him ignoring you than the abrupt turn in character. He glances over at you, something like regret on his face as he sighs. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, in what feels like an extension of an olive branch, he turns the radio back on. He keeps the volume low, so it doesn’t bother him so much. But at least there’s something to listen to besides your breathing. 

You turn back towards the window, a white sign surrounded by daises coming up as Logan slows the truck down. He flicks on his turn signal, pulling up to Storybrook Walk. He stops in front of a large wrought iron gate and jumps out of the truck. He runs up to a black metal box, flipping the lid open and typing in the code Charles gave you both. As he gets back in the truck, the gate swings open widely. 

You pull your rings out of your pocket and slip yours on. “Here,” you urge, holding Logan’s ring out to him. He huffs, glaring down at it before snatching it out of your hand. He balances his hands atop the wheel, slipping the ring on his left hand. 

The neighborhood is picture-perfect suburbia. The lawns are bright green and manicured to perfection. You can hear children laughing as they play in their backyards and draw out a hopscotch grid on the sidewalk. Women and men who look like they’re straight from the fifties stop on the sidewalk and wave as you drive through the gated community. 

You mouth the numbers on the mailboxes to yourself, sitting up straighter when you’re one house away from your new home for the next few weeks. “Hey,” you frown, noticing a large congregation of people in the driveway of 1220. “This is our house isn’t it?”

Logan frowns, stopping the truck just before pulling in so he doesn’t hit anyway. “Supposed to be.” He glares at the people suspiciously, “Stay here, alright?”

You nod, watching him as he jumps out and rounds the front of the truck. You roll your window down, fingers dancing along the metal of your cuffs. There’s no way you’ve been found out before you’ve even gotten a chance to investigate. 

“Hey!” Logan’s voice is scary on a good day, but when he feels threatened, it’s enough to frighten a grown man. You can see the people flinch slightly away from him. That’s when you spot the wrapped cookies in a blonde woman’s hand and see children hiding with balloons on the porch. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mutter. You throw the door open, racing after Logan before he does something stupid. “Howdy neighbors!” You shout, speaking over him before he gets a chance to say anything else. You rush up to Logan’s side, nearly out of breath in your haste to get to him. “Is this our welcoming committee?”

You glare up at him and his eyes narrow as he sees the same thing you did. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. 

“Smile and wave,” you whisper through gritted teeth. His lips peel up into something terrifying and it takes everything in you not to flinch back. “What the fuck is that?” You mutter.

“A smile,” he hisses, glaring down at you in irritation. 

A blonde woman steps forward before you can continue your hushed argument. “Welcome!” She calls out in a heavy southern accent, throwing her arms open with a bright smile. She walks as fast as she can in her tight skirt and kitten heels, coming over to embrace you, the casserole in her hand balancing precariously behind you. 

She tugs Logan down into a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek and staining the skin red. “Surprise!” The kids on the porch jump out with balloons and flowers and she winces. 

“A bit late on the delivery,” she waves it off with a faux chuckle. “But we don’t mind ‘cause they’re so darn cute.” She is very… loud. There’s something about her that is meant to be charming but puts you on edge. She’s got all the familiar characteristics of a woman you’d love to be around, but she’s executing it like someone playing a character. “Shiela,” she holds out her hand, perfectly manicured nails shining bright red. 

You take her hand introducing yourself, “And this is my husband, Logan. Forgive him for his tone, we had an accident on the highway earlier. We’re still a little on edge.”

“Oh no,” she gasps, pressing her nails to her chest and even that seems plastic. “What happened?”

Years of bullshitting your way through school presentations are finally coming in handy.  You think quickly on your feet, something these people would despise. You need something that endears you to them, “Tire blew out and someone tried to raid the trailer while we were fixing it.”

She lets out a disapproving hum and the throng of people behind her echoes it with disturbing harmony.  You find yourself leaning closer towards Logan, feeling like you need to defend yourself against them. You know they’re only an overzealous HOA committee, but there is something uncanny about them. 

Sensing your discomfort, Logan wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his side. You have to school your features into one of neutrality. You’re supposed to be newlyweds, this is normal behavior for you. His touch feels like ice water being tossed over you, though. His willing embrace makes your head swim with distaste and skepticism. 

“Well,” a man steps forward. He’s conventionally handsome, with brown hair cropped short, slight stubble on his cheeks, slacks, and a button-up that he fills out nicely. His smile, however, stretches too wide and shows too many teeth. A shiver crawls up your spine as he places his hand on Shiela’s shoulder. “You won’t have to worry about people like that here, that’s for sure. John,” he offers his hand to Logan, bypassing you completely. “Head of the HOA here at Storybrook.”

“Nice to meet you, John” Logan falls just short of sincere. He towers slightly over John and you can see that he’s squeezing his hand just a bit too tight by the wince of Jouhn’s face. You dig your elbow into his side and he drops his hand immediately. 

Your gaze drifts over their shoulders and your stomach drops. The people behind them all hold dishes full of food and gift baskets. Their smiles are pinned to their faces, never once flinching out of place. There’s no joy in their eyes, though. They’re glazed over like they’re a million miles away. You would think they were mannequins before you even considered them human. 

“Long drive?” Shiela asks, your eyes dart back to hers only to find her intense stare already wholly focused on you. 

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat of the panic rising in it. “We’re gonna have a fun time unloading this,” you laugh humorlessly, motioning towards the trailer.

She waves her hands in dismissal. “Don’t you worry about that, hun. That’s what neighbors are for after all.” She looks behind her, snapping her fingers a few times. The other’s start going towards the trailer and you feel Logan tense under your touch. 

A kid reaches it first, they manage to unlock it before you shout, “No!” It’s too loud, echoing through the street and making you clench your eyes shut in embarrassment. You turn back towards Shiela and John, both of them wearing shocked expressions. You chuckle awkwardly, “There’s just a lot of family heirlooms. I don’t want to risk them being damaged.” There are no heirlooms, just empty boxes and surveillance equipment that you'll have no chance of explaining away.

Shiela purses her lips into a tight smile, eyes turned to slits as she nods. “Of course,” you know she doesn’t believe you for a second. “Well then, we’ll just take all this inside.” She snaps and the others take their casseroles and gifts and begin flooding towards your front door. Shiela and John walk behind them, herding them all into a straight line. 

You let go of Logan immediately, glaring at the door of your home. Shiela holds a key in her hand, unlocking it and letting everyone inside. You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “What the actual fuck?” You hiss. 

Logan just shakes his head. “Fucking bizarre, what the hell is wrong with these people?” He starts back towards the truck and you follow him. “I almost prefer the welcoming committee at the manor.”

You roll your eyes, “I was your welcoming committee,” you grouse. 

He shrugs, “I know.” You swat lightly at his shoulder and relatch the trailer’s lock. You linger by the mailbox as Logan pulls the truck into the driveway. He’s getting out just as the others finally leave your house. 

Shiela walks back towards you and you gesture towards the keyring in her hand. “Got a key to my house?” You play it off as a joke but it’s incredibly disturbing to know she could walk in at any minute. 

“Of course,” she smiles and shrugs it off like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “For the safety of everyone here.” Her smile drops and she takes an imposing step towards you, “Inspections are every Wednesday at noon.” Your jaw drops in astonishment and you choke on your words. She cackles loudly, face breaking out into a smile once more. “I’m just kidding, honey! God, your face, you’re too gullible, sweetheart.”

You force out a chuckle, smiling as much as you can force. “Of course, silly me,” you barely make it sound believable. This is going to be much harder than you thought. 

“Well,” John comes up behind her, guiding her away from you. “We’ll get out of your hair now. Welcome, neighbors!” The others around them all call out a Welcome as they drift across your lawn and head back to their own homes. 

Logan walks up to your side, the both of you keeping stilted smiles on your faces, waiting for them to just go away. But they pause at their doors, in almost perfect synchronization they turn and wave at you both. You back further into Logan’s chest and his grip on you tightens. 

“What. The. Fuck.” They step through their homes at the same moment and you feel sick to your stomach. There is something seriously wrong here, you’re not sure you want to find out the truth of it. 

You leave Logan to unload the trailer while you unpack the boxes. You’re forced to do it all by hand while the front door is open. You can’t risk someone stopping by for a visit and seeing you float the couch through the middle of the living room. You’re stumped on how to set up the surveillance equipment. Shiela doesn’t seem like the type to understand boundaries when it comes to popping by for a visit. 

You’re just going to have to keep most of it upstairs and set up some cameras on the porch. You don’t doubt that she’ll abuse that key of hers as she sees fit. You can’t imagine how anyone could stand living in this neighborhood. Having no privacy seems like a nightmare. Especially when the commander of the HOA is John and Shiela. They seem like the type to fine you over a rosebush. 

Logan grunts, dragging in the couch. He pushes it through the doorway and kicks the door closed behind him. The second it’s closed he drops the act and picks the couch up with one hand. “Where do you want it?” 

You point towards the back wall of the living room and he drops it with a small groan. “We’re going to need to put cameras out on the porch,” you inform him, still digging through the box. He walks behind you, heading for the fridge and digging around in it. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. You look up, watching as he tosses aside casserole after casserole. “They didn’t bring any beer?”

You laugh a little and get up, heading towards the cooler you’d packed. “They don’t seem the type.” You lean over, digging around through the melted ice until your fingers brush against cool glass. You straighten up, sending him a coquettish smile. “Want a beer after all that hard work, darling?” You taunt, playing the perfect housewife. 

He scoffs and holds his hand out, snatching it from the air as you toss it at him. He pulls the cap off with his teeth, spitting it out into the sink. “And a sandwich while you’re at it,” he demands roughly. 

If you weren’t a connoisseur of dry humor, you wouldn’t have recognized the joke for what it was. Still, you’re almost too shocked he even bothered to play along with you to laugh. Almost, you can’t help the slight chuckle that slips out.  

He throws himself on the couch, taking a deep swig from the bottle, and the moment feels remarkably domestic. You suppose that it should. That is the whole reason you’re here after all. But you hadn’t expected even a singular pleasant moment with Logan. 

This, playful banter and a shared joke, that’s all you could ever want from him. You would settle for this if it was all he was willing to give you. But he can’t even grant you that. This is one outlier in a long list of rude remarks and dismissive behavior. You can’t let yourself be so easily swayed. 

“I might try and get some cameras on the other houses,” Logan remarks from the couch. He kicks his feet on the coffee table and you click your tongue at him, motioning towards his shoes. With an aggrieved sigh, he undoes the laces of his boots and kicks them off. You glare at the dirt that flings across the carpet but a quick wave of your hand makes it disappear. 

“Don’t bother with the cameras. They’ve all got security.” You turn away from the box you’re unpacking with a pensive frown. “They’re all covered by the same company, too. All of them. Isn’t that weird?”

He scoffs and shrugs. “Anywhere else, yeah. But I’m pretty sure they piss at the same time here.” Your nose wrinkles at his crude words and you roll your eyes. 

“Take this seriously.”

He huffs out a laugh, “I am. Didn’t you see them earlier? They only breathe because Shiela lets them.” You take a seat at the kitchen table, uncomfortable attempting to take a spot on the couch. He sighs when he sees the expression on your face, finally dropping the dismissive attitude. “I’ll just be smart about how I set up our cameras, alright?”

You just nod, reaching for the box of your essentials on the table. It’s strange to be sitting beside him, talking to him. You’ve never gotten more than two words out of him. This is so far out of your normal comfort zone that you feel like you’re crawling out of your skin trying to escape. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” you announce awkwardly, shooting up from your seat at the table. 

The beer pauses halfway to his lips and he gives you an odd look. “Okay?” He responds slowly, not sure why you’re telling him this. You open your mouth, and almost tell him to have a good night, but change your mind at the last second. 

You move towards the bedroom near the front door, “Flux,” you turn slightly and he shakes his head. “Take the one upstairs.”

Your brows furrow, “Why?” You demand, an attitude edging its way into your voice. 

“So if Shiela busts down our door I can protect us,” you know he’s teasing, but the sentiment is nice. “And so I don’t have to set up the surveillance shit upstairs,” your face drops and you roll your eyes. There it is. 

“Dick,” you mutter, storming towards the stairs, your boxes hovering along behind you. His laughter follows you up the stairs, even when you slam the door shut. Although, when you take in the room, you can’t find it in yourself to complain for a second about it. 

While Logan is screwed with the teeny guest room downstairs, you get the largest bedroom you’ve ever been in all to yourself. The closet could practically be another bedroom. The bath is more like a jacuzzi than it is a tub.

A four-poster bed sits against the wall, the fluffiest comforter ever becoming you forth like a siren. There’s even a table in the middle of the room, with a chair, perfect for setting up as your desk. 

You scoff in astonishment, “Oh, I could get used to this.” You place your boxes on the table and start pulling out your clothes. You toss yourself on the bed, bouncing against the sheets, and throw pillows go flying everywhere. You flick your wrist, all your essentials flying out of the boxes and sorting themselves out. 

After a luxurious soak in the tub, you’re spread out along the bed, the limited information from Charles's file spread out before you. There are only a few blurry pictures of the neighborhood and a typed-up page of everything he’s heard about Sotrybrook. There’s nothing even remotely useful here. 

You sigh, tossing the file to the floor and looking out the large window of your room. You’ve got a camera placed on the sill, programmed to take a picture anytime there’s movement. You doubt you’re going to get much from that. The secrets of this place seem to be buried deep. You’re gonna have to get real friendly with your neighbors if you want to get out of here fast. 

Logan is on the computer, trying to sync all of the cameras up. You clean up the dishes from breakfast and tidy up the kitchen. You’re trying to decide how you should start investigating when there’s a dainty knock on the door. 

Your brows furrow and you peer around the cupboards to look at the door. Logan’s head lifts and he shares an odd look with you. He gets up from the couch and glances through the peephole. 

You drop the towel on the counter and frown as his shoulders slump forward. Something pinched appears on his face and he sighs. “What?” You hiss at him.

He turns and glares at you, “You’ll see.” You shake your head in confusion as he throws the door open. 

His attitude makes a lot more sense when you hear a very happy, “Howdy!” Shiela stands in your doorframe, three women hovering behind her. At least they look awake, unlike the people from last night. A redhead with the most gorgeous waves you’ve ever seen holds beach towels in her arms. A brunette with flawless brown skin carries a jug of lemonade. And a woman with black hair and a perfect figure is carrying a plate of cookies. 

All of these women are wearing bathing suits that look like they’ve been snatched out of a fashion magazine from the sixties. Each of them is gorgeous, alarmingly so. They’re beautiful to the point of being flawless. As you walk out of the kitchen and take a step closer, Shiela welcomes herself into your home. 

You don’t even think you see pores on their faces. Each of them offers you the same practiced smile that you force yourself to return. “How are you settling in?” Shiela demands, not asks. 

“Um,” you look to Logan for help but he’s just as perplexed as you are. “Just fine, Shiela, thanks. What are you all doing?”

The redhead rolls her eyes playfully, “Tanning, sweetheart.” She glances at Logan expectantly and he grabs his duffel from by the couch. 

“I think that’s my cue,” he falls easily into the role of a playful husband. But you don’t need him to play along right now. You need him to stay where the fuck he is so you’re not alone with the barbies. 

“Ha ha, don’t go,” you whisper, trying to grab at his sleeve. “Logan,” you hiss, making sure the others can’t hear you as they look around your home. “Don’t do this.”

He dips his head down, and for one stupid moment, you think he might kiss you. “Good luck,” he whispers in your ear, backing off with a smug smirk and letting himself out of the house. 

Oh, you’re going to fucking kill him. 

“Finally,” the brunette breathes out a relieved breath, “I thought he’d never leave.”

Shiela chuckles, “You’re lucky honey. It took us a long while to have ours so well trained.” She motions to the other girls, “This is Madge,” the redhead smiles and gives a cute wave. She introduces the rest quickly and you file the information away for later when you’re writing your report. 

Madge- husband is the vendor consultant for the HOA. 

Sierra - brunette - husband is secretary of the HOA. 

Kimiko - black hair - no husband. 

Your brows furrow in confusion as Kimiko nods in greeting. You return it, suspicions running thick in your blood. It’s odd, that their husbands are in charge of the HOA, you figured they would be. Beyond that, the emphasis they put on it is astonishing. You really didn’t think the HOA was so important but it’s practically the government here. And the women only seem to hold importance if their husbands do. Shiela is essentially their leader, she’s the one you need to impress.

This whole thing seems incredibly backward and like a blast from the past. The way they style their hair, do their makeup, dress- it's all fashioned after the fifties and sixties. You feel incredibly out of place in your worn-down pajamas and frizzy braids. 

“We’re not really tanning,” Madge tells you. “This is just a way for us ladies to get to know the new kid in the neighborhood and tell you everything you need to know,” she leans in, smiling like she’s sharing a conspiratorial secret with you. 

“Don’t let Madge scare you,” Sierra shoots her a glare. “It’s not that big of a deal, it’s just a way for us to escape our husbands for an hour.”

“Well,” you chuckle awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest as you grow uncomfortable under their tense stares. It feels like their eyes are peeling back your skin, exposing everything underneath as they judge every nook and cranny of your soul. “I haven’t reached that stage yet.”

Shiela’s smile loses some of its humor and she scoffs. “You will,” she assures you, acrid bitterness coating her words. “Give it a few years,” she gives you a bitchy and all-knowing smirk. Your hackles raise, the urge to defend your sham of a marriage rising quickly in you. You bite your tongue, swallowing down your smart retort before you say something you regret. 

You’re not even married to Logan, but you don’t like her butting her nose so far into your business. “Sadly, I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Oh,” Kimiko gives you a blank smile, “We brought you one.” Madge moves the towels aside to reveal a two-piece that matches their own. In your size. 

Your cheeks ache with a forced smile as you take the bathing suit from them. “We’ll just set up out back,” Shiela lets you know. She turns to the others with a beaming smile, “Come on ladies.” They follow after her like ducklings, and when you look down you see each of their steps are in sync. 

You wait until the back door closes to rush to the front. You throw the door open and Logan jumps from where he’s drilling the camera into the side of the house. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” you warn.

He chuckles and smirks, “Don’t keep ‘em waiting too long, sweetheart,” he mocks and you slam the door closed with a loud scoff. He was enjoying your suffering far too much, but you shouldn’t be surprised. You’re sure he’s just been waiting for a moment like this. 

You change into the bathing suit and take a deep calming breath. You can do this. You can play pretend for a few hours. 

You wished you’d known being an actor was a part of the job description before you joined the X-Men.

You lay on your stomach along the soft beach towel that Madge brought. The sun isn’t too hot on you, but you also bent the tree behind you to provide a bit more shade when the others weren’t looking. So far, you’ve collected nothing but mindless gossip. 

Sam never takes in his trash cans on time. Alicia has been getting a little too cozy with the gardener. Some couple you didn’t pay attention to is expecting a kid. You’re struggling to pay attention to all the mindless drivel. 

Usually, you wouldn’t mind a little gossip, but none of this feels real. Their words are hollow, smiles empty. Everything they say sounds like they’re reading it from a script. The only person you actually believe cares about any of this bullshit is Shiela. The rest of them seem to just play along, not meaning a word they say. 

You’re gaining nothing useful from this. There’s no information you’ve gotten during this conversation that could remotely help you. All you want to do is go out front and strangle Logan for abandoning you. 

The only good thing about all this is the lemonade and cookies. Which, you admit, you may have indulged yourself a little too much. But at this point, you’re just eating to stay awake. You reach for another cookie and Shiela lets out a dainty huff. 

“I wish I could eat like you,” she laughs and you prepare yourself for the most backhanded insult you’ve ever heard. “But I have to be so careful about watching my figure. Wouldn’t want to lose my waist,” she titters and the other women giggle. 

You toss the cookie back on the plate, rolling your eyes. It feels like you’re right back in high school. You love this, this is great. At this point, you’re just trying to stop yourself from tossing them all out. 

The backdoor slides open and Logan peeks his head out. The women wave and Shiela calls out a sultry, “Hey, Lo.”

Your jaw drops and you can’t help but scoff as you tilt your head to give her an astonished stare. This woman has absolutely zero shame. She’s not even hiding the way she’s ogling him. She’s literally biting her lip. 

You clench your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. There it is, the end of your rope. “Sweetheart, you gonna be done soon?” Logan calls out and you can’t help but smile at the immense satisfaction you feel when Shiela’s face falls. You shouldn’t take so much joy in Logan ignoring her, you know that’s just how he is. But she doesn’t. 

“I think so, hon.” You sit up on your knees, clapping your hands and pretending to be upset. “Sorry, girls, I think I’m needed back in the house.” You get to your feet and pick your towel up. As you do, you flick your fingers, and the lemonade tumbles over, spilling all over Shiela’s pristine white bathing suit. 

She jumps up with a shrill scream, shaking her arms off at the ice-cold liquid and desperately trying to wipe off her bathing suit. Madge and Sierra flock to her and you roll your eyes at how dramatic she’s being. 

Out of the side of your eye, you see someone watching you. You turn slightly, startling when you see the intense glare Kimiko’s sporting. It’s the first genuine emotion you’ve seen from her, but even this seems cold. Her dark eyes are bottomless pits of frigid rage. You find that you can’t look away from her, swaying slightly as her eyes beckon you forward. 

You need to go to her, speak with her, be with her. You need-

Your mind falls short of what you need. But you know Kimko will give it to you. Sierra and Madge both straighten up, both blank-faced as you take a step forward. 

Logan hollers your name again and you jump, shaking your head and breaking whatever trance you’d fallen in. When you look back, all three of them are still fussing over Shiela. You glance to Logan, to see if he saw what had happened. 

His brows are furrowed, face pinched in concern as he looks at you. You think you might have just found Charles’ interference. 

“I think we should look into Kimiko,” you scroll through the list of residents you’d managed to hack into. You’ve been on the computer for hours, trying to find any information bout her at all. Even when you ran a background check, nothing came up. If that doesn’t scream mutant, you don’t know what does. 

Logan walks over to the table with a steaming pan in his hand. You tug your computer glasses off and slide the laptop to the side. He pours some pasta onto your plate and hands you a glass of water. “Thank you,” he gives you a tense almost-smile and nods. 

“Figure out where she lives?” He asks, bringing his own plate to the table. You shake your head and rub your temples, trying to fend off the headache you can already feel forming. You should have taken a break from the research. You can’t stand staring at screens for as long as you did. 

“She’s not even a registered resident.”

“Well,” he sighs and shrugs, “at least we know this wasn’t a waste of time.” You nod in acquiesce and take a bite of your food. Your eyes widen in shock and he laughs at the look on your face. “Didn’t think I could cook?”

You shake your head and smile. “I took you as the type to pour beer in your cereal. But this is,” you stumble over your word. You’re afraid of being too nice to him. You’ve reached a sort of impasse, where you’re not openly hostile, but you’re not exactly friendly. You feel like if you do too much, too fast, he’s gonna be closed off again. “It’s really good.”

He purses his lips and nods, dragging his fork along the porcelain plate. The noise grates on you and only further aggravates the growing headache but you don’t snap at him. You swallow down the frustration and just shovel more pasta into your mouth. 

“This, uh,” Logan takes in a deep breath and lets all out in one gravely exhale. You give him an expectant look and he shrugs. “It hasn’t been as bad as I thought.” He tells you flippantly. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You demand with a firm tone, placing your fork down and leaning back in your chair. 

He lets out an annoyed sigh, “It was just an observation.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s fucking ridiculous. “You know, maybe if you ever tried to get to know me, you wouldn’t have had such a horrible opinion about me.” You try and eat more but the food just tastes like ash in your mouth. You grow antsy, not wanting to sit near him anymore. 

You’re surprised that he’s the one who fucked up the peace. You really thought it would be you. But something about what he said is rubbing you the wrong way. Of course, it hasn’t been bad, you’re not a bad person. He just decided he hated you one day and he’s so goddamned stubborn he never considered anything else being the truth. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he defends, watching with a confused expression as you get up and drop your plate loudly in the sink. 

“You know,” you ignore his weak defense, leaning on the sink. You grip the rim of it tightly, sucking in a deep breath to try and keep yourself calm. “You didn’t even know my fucking name,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head to yourself. Why are you even bothering with him? You’ll never win and you don’t even know if you want him to change his opinion about you. 

He’s been a dick for so long that you’re not sure you’re even interested in being friends, let alone anything beyond that. 

“Well,” he takes an angered tone as you continue to deflect his attempts at restoring the peace. “It’s not like you told me. You just go by your X-Men name, how was I supposed to know better?”

“By fucking asking!” You shout, whirling around on him, nearly ramming into his chest. You hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten while you’d had your back to him. “If you had, ever, at any fucking point tried to get to know me, you wouldn’t be so surprised that I’m nice. I’m a nice person to be around, Logan. And for some reason I tried to change myself, to make you happy. And it never even worked!” You scoff, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in your throat that you quickly swallow down. You shove past him, escaping the corner he’s backed you into. “Your head is so far up your ass that you didn’t even try to know me before you decided you hated me.”

“What?” He scoffs and glares at you. “I don’t fucking hate you. When have I ever said that? And I never wanted you to change.” He keeps focusing on the wrong things. How he feels about you doesn’t matter, it’s how he treated you. 

“Never, you’ve never said that because you’ve never said more than two words to me. This,” you motion between the two of you, “is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.” A sudden exhaustion settles over you, it weighs heavy on your bones and drapes across you like a blanket. 

You don’t have the energy for this. For him. You don’t want to keep defending yourself to someone who couldn’t care less. There’s no winning with him. He will never listen to you, he’ll just offer half-assed excuses that he thinks absolve him of how horribly he’s treated you. 

He calls your name as you slump into the dining room chair. Your real name, not your X-Men name. “I never hated you,” he tells you, voice soft, but the conviction is strong. 

You stand up, unable to make eye contact with him. “Goodnight, Logan.” You walk up the stairs quietly, never once looking at him. You can’t stand to face him. As much as you’ve tried to bury how you feel about him, it’s still there. 

Being with him like this, having his ring on your finger, it’s a stab in the gut over and over and over. Someone’s taken your most ridiculous and romantic fantasies and turned them into a waking nightmare. You wake up to him every day, eat at the same table, share the same house, and you two couldn’t be further apart. 

You have to keep up appearances, Logan is sure that’s the only reason you’ve joined him this morning. He’s working on the truck while you kneel on a foam pad, planting a rose bush by the mailbox. But the way you’re stabbing the shovel into the ground it looks more like murder than it does gardening. You slam the little trowel into the dirt, lips pulled back like a wild animal as dirt flies up around your hair. 

Logan turns back to the truck, letting out a low whistle under his breath. Besides the insane display of shrubbery abuse, you blend into the neighborhood better than he ever could. You fit that perfect suburban aesthetic, sun hat, cat-eye sunglasses, and a pretty dress. 

You’re good at blending in, better than he ever was. He’s heard you joking about it before. Telling Jean your hidden mutant ability is learning to be a chameleon, fitting yourself wherever you are. He thinks it’s a cute idea, and not too far from the truth. 

He only wishes he were a little more like that. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his wifebeater, fraying jeans, and general countenance of misery. He can’t force a smile when John walks by with a shitty joke. He’s not like you. You stomach all of the women’s vapid nonsense with a smile and manage to seem so unaffected by it all. 

The only time he’s seen you break was last night. And that, of course, had been his fault. He wishes he was better with his words. He’s always been an action man, but clearly, he’s fucked that up with you too. He really did mean it as a compliment. 

He’s just incapable of talking without his foot in his mouth when it comes to you. It’s why he tends to just avoid you and stay quiet. He knows he’ll mess up with you eventually. In the rare chance you ever actually give him a second look, he’d be a shitty boyfriend. And even if you were just friends, he’d still fuck up somehow. He always does. 

He’s learned it’s better to just keep a distance between himself and others. Especially you. He’s always just wanted to keep you away from his bullshit. The haunted past he still knows so little about, all the mental baggage he carries, he never wanted to burden you with it. Even though it seems like he still managed to screw up somehow. 

Even when he’s trying to be good he’s still the bad guy. 

You let out a heavy sigh and his gaze drifts back towards you. The way it always seems to do. You’re his sun, bright, beaming, a golden beacon of hope. But he’s always just too far, eclipsing the light you might bring him with his own stupidity. 

You toss the trowel to the ground and stand up. You frown, brushing off all the dirt you’re absolutely caked in. When he peers around you and glances at the spot where the rose bush is supposed to be all he sees is a crater of earth and ripped up grass. He figures it's better not to mention it. 

You walk over to him, the same scowl you’ve had for the past few days ever-present on your face. “I’m going to take a shower,” you look at him expectantly and he shrugs. You let out a loud sigh and he can’t possibly imagine how he’s messed up now. “You need one too, the barbecues in an hour.”

He’d forgotten about the fucking barbecue. Some annual thing Shiela and John threw that the whole neighborhood went to. “It doesn’t take me an hour to get ready,” he tells you, intending a little bit of playfulness. 

Instead, you just let out an exasperated breath and storm back into the house. How did he keep fucking up with you so badly?

He’s gotten a taste of your personality, your company. He’s tried for so long to avoid getting to know you. He knows that if he truly did, he’d never get over you. He was right. Just one taste of you and he wants more, he wants to consume everything about you that he can. He’s screwed up in so many ways but he can’t just go back to normal after this and act like strangers. 

You smooth the wrinkles out of your cotton dress and let out a low breath. “You need another minute?” Logan grumps from beside you, his stare boring into the door. He didn’t want to come to this. Frankly, neither did you, but he needs to suck it up and be a big boy. You two are here for a purpose greater than yourselves. 

Maybe if you repeat that enough times you’ll start to believe it. 

Kimiko was everywhere that Shiela was. She was her shadow, her loyalist servant. And the only person in this neighborhood who’s shown a sliver of consciousness. You don’t know where she lives, or if she even owns a house here. But you do know she’ll be at this barbecue tonight. 

The only reason you’re bothering to bring Logan along is because you need him to distract Shiela. She drools every time she sees him, practically licking her maw at the sight of him in a tight t-shirt. You can’t really blame her, but she’s a married woman and he’s technically a married man. The lack of shame and compassion is genuinely astonishing to you. 

“No. Let’s just get this over with.” He needs no further prompting as he knocks heavily on the door. Each pound of his fist sounds like a bell tolling your doom. The intense feeling of nausea and eyes on the back of your head has developed and grown increasingly worse the longer you’re here. 

You feel like someone’s pressing against your mind, wiggling their fingers in and squeezing until mush slips through their knuckles. You keep a tight grip on Logan so you don’t tip over. Playing it off as the love-sick newlyweds you’re meant to be. 

Even though the feeling of his skin against yours makes you angrier than you can even begin to fathom. You’ve held onto built-up resentment and anger ever since your little tiff. You’ve heard that tumultuous times are common in the beginnings of marriages. Luckily, you’re getting a divorce the second this fucking mission is over. 

You resent Charles for ever sending you here. Any minuscule hopes you’ve had of finally building a relationship with Logan have been dashed across your front yard. There’s no hope for him. He’ll never change, and how he treats you will never change. 

The door swings open and the music from the backyard drifts through to the front. Shiela smiles widely, greeting you both with a drawn-out Hi! She reaches forward and grabs Logan, tugging him away from you and dragging him into a hug. 

You stumble forward as your support is ripped out from under you. She briefly glances over his shoulder at you and you offer her a sardonic smile. Every bit of you wants to dig your nails into her and rip until chunks of her start flying off. The post beside you warps slightly, bending like it’s melting. 

You dig your nails into your palm, swallowing down your anger, and force the post upright once more. Logan grabs Shiela by the waist, practically yanking her off of him. He steps back towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

You can’t help the smug smile that lifts your lips as you face her. You almost want to rub her face in it. He chose you and he can’t stand you, that says a lot about how he feels about her. You stop yourself, though, it’d be beyond idiotic to let that be the reason your cover is blown. 

“Thanks for inviting us,” you tell Shiela, playing oblivious instead of walking into her trap. You pass her the casserole you half-assed and baked in her dish. “We’re so excited to finally have a home to call our own, and with such wonderful neighbors,” you gasp dreamily. “Oh, it’s just a dream come true.”

Shiela runs a manicured nail along the side of her lip, looking wholly unimpressed. “Mhm,” she hums, “I’m sure.” You share a look with Logan, both of you caught off guard by her sudden dip in personality. Her face is blank, devoid of the usual overwrought happiness and charm. It’s like something’s taken control and drained the life from her. 

Either Kimiko’s here and you’re right about her, or, Shiela is just a depressed housewife who can’t always control when she smiles. You’re hoping it’s Kimiko and you can just end this once and for all. 

“Alright,” she’s back in a second like nothing ever happened. The boom of her voice echoing through the foyer makes you jump. “Let’s get you two outside. And thank you so much for this,” she gestures to the casserole. “You’re just such a sweet little thing aren’t you?”

Everything she says to you feels just a tad patronizing. She’s incapable of complimenting you without minimizing you in some way. You dismiss it, shaking off the funk she always seems to put you in. 

Shiela leads you to the backdoor of her porch where the rest of the neighborhood is. She certainly got the best square footage, that’s for sure. She doesn’t just have the biggest house, she’s also got the biggest yard you’ve ever stepped foot on. 

People are milling about, John’s flipping hamburgers on the grill, and children are playing happily with one another. It feels like an advert for the Fourth of July.

You scan the yard for the only person you’re looking for. You spot her, pushed back towards the shadow of Shiela’s oak tree. Shiela follows your gaze with a frown and scoffs. “I know, hideous isn’t it?”

You jump, startled out of your stupor. “Sorry?”

She points towards the tree. “I wanted to get rid of it, but apparently it’s historic,” she throws up air quotes, inflecting her voice lazily, “or something stupid.”

“Oh, right,” you nod dismissively and she shrugs, hands slapping against her thighs as she nods to her yard. 

“Well, go on, socialize, make yourself at home y’all.” She walks back into the house and you glance back at the yard. 

“Shit,” you hiss, “Kimiko’s gone.” You move away from Logan and take a step down the stairs, he begins to follow you but you stop him with a firm hand to his chest. He frowns down at you and you nod towards Shiela. “I need you playing interception. Those two are attached at the hip. The only thing that’s going to distract her is the hunk of meat she’s been drooling over.” 

Logan frowns and takes a step back. He sets his face and crosses his arms and you sigh, knowing exactly what he’s about to say. “No.” He tells you firmly, not even bothering to hear you out. 

“Well,” you shrug. “Too bad, I need you to do this or we’re never getting out of here.”

He mocks your shrug and nods, “Alright. Fine.” He leans into your space and you feel like you’re being scolded, “I’m not leaving you on your own, okay? And I’m not letting you go after Kimiko alone.”

“I’m not going after her,” you glance around, making sure no one is listening to you talk about their neighbor like she’s on a hit list. “I just need one interrupted conversation with her. Just one,” you’re practically pleading with him at this point. 

You feel pathetic. You’re a grown woman and an X-Men. You shouldn’t have to be bartering with Logan. He should just have some faith in your abilities to not only protect yourself but conduct yourself appropriately on a mission. 

His face screws up in irritation and you know he’s about to really cause a scene. He’ll start arguing with you, and blow your spot up just to get you out of here. You give him a placating smile, a real one because he’s somehow learned to tell the difference. “Logan, it’s only for an hour. I’m sure you can fend Shiela off,” you joke to try and lighten the mood.

He sucks in a deep breath and you know you’ve got him when his shoulders sink in defeat. “Fine. I’m only agreeing to this because you’re practically a chameleon with this shit,” he gestures vaguely to the barbecue and your face pinches with confusion. 

“What?” 

“I heard you talking about it with Jean one day. How you’re a chameleon when it comes to blending in with people.”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly a brag. It’s a method of survival, a way to make people like me. It gives me a fighting chance when they find out I’m a mutant.” God, why are you even talking about this? Why had he even been listening to your conversation with Jean?

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but you don’t have time for that. “Look, Logan, just go find Shiela.” You walk away from him before he can drudge up more uncomfortable memories of high school. 

You manage to slip through the party relatively unnoticed. You didn’t see where Kimiko had disappeared to. You’re hoping there might be some sort of hint left where she had been. You rush towards the oak tree, using it as a way to scan the party for her again. From here you can’t see anything except the kitchen.  

You’ve got a perfect view of Logan trudging towards Shiela. You can’t help but laugh when she wraps her hand around his bicep, eagerly telling him something. You smile and shake your head, the audacity of this woman is amazing. 

Something catches your eye, right by your foot. Glancing down you see something silver glinting through the grass. Frowning, you kneel and scoop it up. It’s an oblong device, small, and fits in the palm of your hand. It’s curved oddly, and the lights on it start flashing bright red as you hold it.

“What the hell?” You flip it over, a warped mirrored reflection on the back of it. You just barely spot Kimiko’s twisted face in the reflection before the world goes black. 

You groan, slowly blinking the fog of a forced sleep out of your eyes. You reach to swipe at your face, but something is holding your wrists down. You jerk your arms a few times, struggling against whatever restraints are wrapped around you. When nothing happens, you instead focus on the feeling of it against your wrist, trying to get it to dissolve. 

“Don’t bother,” a cool voice calls out from the shadows. There’s one bright light shining down on you, like the type you might see above an operating table. The entire room feels sterile. And it’s cold, you can barely feel the tips of your toes or fingers. 

“What’d you do?” You demand, trying to sound intimidating but your words come out as a slur. The back of your head radiates pain and it takes everything in you just to keep your eyes open. 

“I developed a gas,” the voice circles the room, echoing across the curved walls. You hear footsteps but you can’t tell where they’re coming from. “It halts the neurons in a mutant’s brain that fire when they use their abilities. Temporary, but quite handy when I’m dealing with a mentalist like you.”

Kimiko steps out of the shadows like a bad comic book villain. Her face is blank, no expression on it, somehow, it’s the realest she’s ever looked before. Here, you can see her humanity. Pores across her nose, frizz and oil along her hair, her nose just a little bit crooked. Whatever she’d been doing to herself has been wiped away. And the human woman lurking beneath is finally revealed. 

“There you are,” you mutter, your speech slowly coming back to you. “I knew that plastic face wasn’t real.”

“Everything was going just fine until you and Wolverine got here,” she gives you a sharp look, “Flux.”

You sarcastically gasp, “Wow, you know my X-Men name. It’s not like I haven’t been interviewed before. What’s the plan here, Kimiko? Where are the others?”

Her brows pinch, “Others?”

“The mutants you’re trafficking.”

“Oh,” she laughs and it’s so jarring you nearly jump. “Is that what people think?” Hesitantly, you nod, but you’re beginning to feel like you might have gotten something very wrong. “No, that’s not what we’re doing here.”

“We?”

“Shiela and I. We have much simpler plans, much more peaceful. You see, Shiela’s the only person to ever stand beside me after she found out I was a mutant. She gave me a home, a friend, and a sense of belonging.” There’s something devout in her words, like a humble follower kneeling at the feet of their god. “Everything I have, everything I am, I owe to her.”

You’ve seen Shiela’s manipulation firsthand. You have no doubt that she’s never actually done anything for Kimiko. She’s just made her think she had and instilled in her this sense of owing her something. 

Then again, Kimiko’s getting this look on her face. She’s like a rabid dog staring down the barrel of their owner’s shotgun. Perhaps she hadn’t needed much prompting to develop such an unhealthy attachment. “Shiela’s parents never loved her the way they should have. They never gave her the perfect life she deserved. So I created one for her.”

She rolls a tray of surgical tools over and a sense of panic finally starts to rouse within you. Yet, for the first time in years, your powers aren’t here to help you. You have nothing to rely on but yourself. But you’ve been trained so intensively in using your abilities as a protector rather than an inhibitor that you’re practically useless without them. 

“All these people,” you rush the words out as she picks up a syringe. You don’t know what the yellow liquid inside is, but from the look on her face, you don’t want to. “You’re controlling them?”

Kimiko nods and you’d be staggering if you weren’t strapped down. Not even Charles could control this many people at once. Not without Cerebro. “Kimiko, that’s,” you gasp, flinching away as she brings the needle towards your arms. “It’s incredible!” Your quick rise in volume makes her jolt and the syringe tumbles out of her hands. 

She grumbles to herself, leaning over to pick it up. “Does Shiela know?” She pauses at the mention of Shiela’s name, brushing her hair over her shoulder and glaring at you. 

“Yes. Of course she does, this is my greatest gift to her.”

“Really?” Your voice drips with contrived empathy. “Then I’m sure she’s done something incredible for you back.” You were hoping a simple manipulation tactic might work, that you could turn Kimiko against an ungrateful Shiela. But this type of obsession isn’t one that can’t be destabilized with a few jumbled words. 

No, you only make her angrier. “Back? Back?” she practically screams, her voice raw and feral as she leaps into your face. You flinch as far back as you can as her face hovers over yours, screaming right at you. “I owe her everything! I should thank her for letting me breathe the same air as hers!”

Your jaw drops, a silent scream tripping out of your mouth as you gasp for air. Something squeezes against your brain, the pulsing from before returns with a vengeance. You can feel your mind pulsing and swelling, pushing against your skull. 

“Don’t fucking say her name again,” Kimiko glares down at you, her eyes devoid of any remorse or compassion as she makes your brain swell until blood leaks down your ears. Whatever plan she had before has been abandoned, she’s going to just kill you now. 

You’re going to die in her basement, no one will ever see you again. Your eyes throb and you feel your brain push to its fullest limits. The pressure builds, builds, and builds until it explodes. 

“Then you just pour a little sugar in.” Logan watches as Shiela tips nearly an entire bag of cane sugar into her jug of sweet tea. His stomach shrivels at the sight and he fights down bile. A little bit of sugar drops over the edge. She catches it on her finger and looks over her shoulder, licking the sugar off and practically deepthroating her own finger. All while maintaining a disturbing amount of eye contact with Logan. 

“Well,” he knows that he promised you a while with Kimiko, but he can’t handle much more of this. “Thank you so much for this,” he struggles with the word, landing weakly on, “lesson.” He’s not even sure what the point of watching her prepare all this food was. 

He’s pretty sure she just wanted him to see her leave a rim of red lipstick at the bottom of her finger as many times as possible. The entire time he’s just wanted to go back to you. There’s a nasty feeling gnawing at him and he knows he needs to get back to you soon. 

“Oh,” she seems genuinely disappointed and Logan sighs awkwardly. “Leaving already, huh?”

He points to his ring pointedly reminding her of the reality of their situation. “Gotta get back to the wife.”

She doesn’t even try to hide her sneer as he mentions you. “Of course, just the perfect husband aren’t you?”

Logan doesn’t dignify that with a response, too distracted by what’s happening outside the window. People have begun to wander around aimlessly, some of them stumbling into the fencing. They just keep walking forward, knocking into the wood repeatedly, not once stopping. John’s got a stuck smile on his face as he leans against the grill, Logan can see smoke rising from where the flesh of his palm is melting onto the metal. A few people all run into each other, collapsing on the ground and just lying there. 

They’re like robots, suddenly without command and unsure what to do. They’re following their programming without anyone putting a stop to it. Shiela follows his gaze and gasps. “Excuse me,” she mutters, practically running out of the room. 

Logan tries to find you amongst all the mess but you’re nowhere to be seen. “Fuck,” he growls out, looking back to where Shiela had run. He should have fucking known not to leave you on your own. 

He stalks after Shiela, listening to her racing heart and the slam of a downstairs door. He follows her down the steps leading to her basement. It looks the same as every other one he’s ever been in. Except, for the metal door hidden behind a few shelving units. The only reason he spots it is because Shiela knocked over a can of paint in her rush toward it. 

Anger brews hot and putrid in his gut. The claws come out unbidden, and the thought of you being locked away in that room pushes him forward. If you’re not in there, he’ll get an answer from Shiela one way or another. But he’s not going to let you get hurt because he didn’t have your back. 

“What the hell are you doing?” A shrill voice interrupts. Your head sinks back against the cool material of the table, brain surging back into place. Your teeth ache, white-hot pain rushing through your bones as Kimiko finally releases her grasp on you. 

Kimiko gives Shiela the look of a dog who just got in trouble. “She found my amplifying device. I have to get rid of her.” She holds the device you found earlier out to Shiela. 

So, she wasn’t as powerful as she pretended. She did need help. It explains why the entire neighborhood is always in the same area, she needs them close to keep control. “Whatever you’re doing is making my toys malfunction.”

Shiela hisses at Kimiko, she darts forward and slaps her hard across the back of the head. If you weren’t in excruciating and paralyzing pain, you’d flinch at the sound. Being as if your brain was just about to explode, though, you could give less of a shit if she beats her rabid dog up. 

These two crazy bitches deserve each other. You just want a Tylenol and a nap at this point. “Well, aren’t you two twisted sisters?” Logan slips through the door, his claws glinting under the light of the room. “Toys?” He demands, eyes roaming the room desperately. 

The second he sees you, strapped down and with blood pouring from your orifices, something slips over his face. It’s like a mask being ripped off. The man he pretends to be is ripped apart by the animal truly lurking within him. Neither women have time to even defend themselves. He goes for Kimiko first and all you see his claws plunging down before arterial blood sprays across your face. 

You groan, tilting your chin the other way and spitting the metallic liquid out of your mouth. There are a long few minutes of screaming, clothes shredding, and blood splashing against every surface of the room. By the time he’s completely calmed down, you’re drenched in it. 

You suck on your teeth, rolling your head limply and finally getting a good look at him. He’s panting, standing over their mutilated corpses with blood dripping down his claws. There’s a wrath on his face you’re happy to have never been on the other end of. But the second he looks at you, you see nothing but stark relief. 

He breathes out your name, your real one, and surges towards you. “Claws!” You shout, hurting your head again. But he was a second away from accidentally skewering you. They’re put away in an instant as he undoes the straps holding you down. 

You groan in relief as the pressure around your head and limbs is released. He perches himself on the edge of the table and scoops you into his chest.

You’re still loopy from Kimiko messing around in the grooves of your brain. The best you can manage is weakly draping your arms along his sides. He pulls you back and brushes the hair out of your face, laughing a little at the blood covering you. “They do anything to you?”

You shrug, “Besides turn my brain into a pressure cooker? No.”

The smile drops from his face and he glares down at the remains of the women. If you weren’t so tired, you’d think he wants to kill them again. “I should have been here.”

“Logan-” You want to tell him not to be ridiculous. You had insisted you could take care of yourself. Told him it would only be a conversation when you knew that was never going to be true. You’d gotten yourself into this, you were lucky he was there to get you out. But you don’t say anything because he interrupts you as he so often does. 

“I can’t keep acting like this is all okay. Like I’m happy with how we treat each other. I thought I was going to lose you, I’m not going to keep pretending I don’t care about you.”

Your face screws up in confusion and you’re not sure you want to hear where he’s going with this. You’ve been used to this dynamic between the two of you for so long. You’re used to him treating you like he can't stand to breathe the same air as you. If this is going where you think it is, you’re not sure you can handle it. 

“Logan,” you’re regaining some feeling in your limbs now. You use the returning strength to push away from him, shaking your head in disbelief. “No, you can’t do this. You can’t just change your-”

He’s incapable of letting you finish a single sentence. His hands wrap around your cheeks tugging you forward until your lips are brushing together. It’s enough of a shock to get you to stop talking. You don’t reciprocate, too stunned to even think about moving. 

He brushes his lips against yours again, firmer this time. Under the layers of blood coating you both, you’re wholly enveloped by him. His scent, his arms, everything about him drapes over you like a warm blanket. Against your better judgment, you find yourself returning the kiss. 

You move further into his lap, one hand holding his face and the other clutching at his hair, needing something to hold to keep you steady in this moment. Logan smiles against your lips, deepening the kiss without wasting another beat. His tongue moves gently across yours at first. A curious caress to see how well you two fit together. He groans when he gets a taste of you, pushing further in and kissing you like he wants to devour you.  

There’s warmth blooming in your stomach and spreading all along your body. You’re buzzing with adrenaline and pain and this unidentifiable feeling that Logan is evoking from you. It’s not the sweet mushy, romantic kiss you always imagined with him. 

This is desperate. Like a dying man’s last attempt at redemption. He’s tasting you like you’re rare, something to be savored. You feel like you’re the only thing left in existence. The only person left for him to admire. You forget the gore behind you, the tumultuous experiences you’ve had with him. 

You let yourself fall into the moment, a blind leap of faith into a pool of all your hopes and desires. He’s better than you ever could have imagined. More desperate than your wildest fantasies. He makes no move to stop, even as the air becomes scarce and you both have to part longer. He just grips you tighter, hands wrapped around you like he’s worried if he lets go he’ll lose you. 

He could, he could lose you. This kiss of his is putting you into a trance, distracting you from all he’s trying to make up for. Perhaps if he stops kissing you, you’ll remember it all and want nothing to do with him. But you don’t see that happening, you just see yourself craving more and more for him., You feel the addiction forming already. A deep-seated need in your bones is finally being sated, it will always need more from him. 

When you can no longer survive on the shared oxygen between you both, you’re forced to part. Your cheeks tingle from the stubble of his beard and you know your lips are pink and swollen because his are too. You’re both still coated in blood and you share a familiar glean in your eyes. 

“I never hated you,” he sounds breathless and you love that you’re the cause of it. “I just didn’t want to lose you.”

You scoff, but there are no cruel intentions behind it. “So you push me away before you ever get a chance to have me?”

He gives you a crooked smile, “I never said I was smart.” You can’t help but laugh at that. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, ignoring the puddles of blood and bits. “We'll have to call Charles. He needs to help the people out there.”

“We also need to let him know there’s no trafficking ring. Just one fucked psyche.” You shoot another glare at the pile that was Kimiko, still bitter about her experiment with your brain. As Logan helps you up the stairs of the basement, you stop him just before you reach the door. 

He gives you a concerned look, like he thinks you’ve hurt something somehow. “I want to talk to you. Really talk to you about everything.” Concern gives way to dread and you can’t help but smile at the regretful look on his face. “But first,” his head perks in interest at your tone, “maybe we can finally enjoy that master bed together?”

“You know,” he leans down, swiping his arms under your knees and lifting you. You gasp, through your arms around his neck and squeezing until you worry you might suffocate him. “You really are the smart one of us, aren’t you?”

“Clearly.”

You’re not sure how well this transition to married couple to tentatively something else is going to go. But you have hope and it's kept you going for all these years. What's wrong with letting it linger a little longer?

a/n: Guess who's back, back again? Hint, it's Flux. I missed writing for them, so I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. Although, I worry the ending was too cheesy.

Reblogs, comments, likes, and requests are always appreciated !!

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @insomniachox @izbelross @spktrlvr ♡

[wileys-russo]

Hiii! I have an idea for an Alexia x R soft fic.

So you know how Barça shared ig stories of Alexia being at the bona diada event, then she jumped into training right after (captain duties, we know).

Inspired by that, Alexia falls asleep in r’s arms right after lunch break and the team snaps a photo of them cuddled up

heavy eyelids II a.putellas

"you do know that looking at your phone or the door every five seconds does not make her appear any faster?" your eyes moved to meet frido's teasing gaze as you pulled a face and rolled your eyes.

"i wasn't! i know she is busy, and she will be here later." you huffed, tucking your phone away in your locker and bending down to lace up your shoes.

"again! you are doing it again!" frido laughed a moment later, catching your eyes once more lingering toward the changing room doors hoping your girlfriend would be walking through them everytime a new body appeared.

"no! i was..." you trailed off with a slight frown, struggling to think of a suitable answer. "looking for alexia." ingrid chimed in as you sent her a fierce scowl, crossing your arms over your chest.

"shut up." you grumbled, sick of their teasing and standing to head out to the field.

"oh amiga we do not train for another...ten minutes. do you not want to spend them staring at the door trying to make alexia appear with your magic laser eyes?" patri's arm fell over your shoulder as she gave you a cheesy grin and laughter rang out among your teammates.

"pew pew pew!" pina poked your cheek, pointing at your eyes and ducking your fist that swung at her with a wolfish smile. "like you two can talk. amor idiotas enfermos!" you muttered, a beat of silence passing before you raced out of the room with both girls hot on your heels.

"bon dia!" you managed to get out with a smile toward the iphone camera filming the walks in before pina landed on your back, sending you stumbling forward and nearly losing your footing.

you struggled to throw her off, grins painted on both your faces as her arm wrapped around your neck and eventually with a puppy dog look sent to patri she called her girlfriend over and off you.

you moved to join in for stretches, having already popped in to see the physios to have your hamstring taped up and looked at, a hard tackle yesterday giving you a little discomfort and promising your girlfriend you'd not ignore it.

your girlfriend whom you'd briefly dusted with a few light good morning kisses before she'd all but rolled out of bed and into the shower, her morning schedule much more jam packed than yours.

"ale. mi amor that is your second alarm!" you warned quietly with a smile of amusement, kissing her bare shoulder as she exhaled tiredly into the pillow her face was pressed against.

"i told you to go to bed when i did." you chuckled, the blonde having insisted she'd join you shortly but by the time she did you were dead asleep, leaving her with only a few short hours of decent rest.

"despierta guapa." you cooed, another tired exhale and you were scooting over to give her enough room to roll onto her back, hazel eyes blinking tiredly as she reached up to rub them.

a few sleepy kisses and she was pushing up and out of the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom as you watched her go, eyes lingering over the assortment of intricate inkings scattering her toned bare back.

despite the fact you could have slept another couple of hours and alexia's insistence you do so, she'd stepped out of the shower to the smell of coffee and breakfast and smiled, chuckling to herself at the thought of you ever actually listening to her.

a driver already downstairs to collect her, hair and makeup was up first which you know despite pretending to hate alexia secretly quite enjoyed, you'd prepped her breakfast and caffeine to go.

"qué haría yo sin ti?" alexia sighed, strong hands grabbing your hips and pulling your body into hers. "sleep in and starve." you teased, leaning up to press your lips against hers, mumbling about how she'd be late and wrenching yourself away.

then with one more lingeringly soft kiss, the front door was closing with a click and the apartment you shared was just a little bit quieter.

"oye, tonta!" you zoned back into reality as fingers clicked in your face, pushing away mapi's hand and resuming your stretches.

"and now she is trying to imagine alexia is here, so sad." mapi tutted with a sarcastic sigh, yelping as you reached over to pinch her calf and darting to hide behind her own girlfriend.

"she might not need to imagine." ellie piped up next, tapping your shoulder as your head whipped around to where her finger pointed, perking up and not even caring how it looked as you scrambled to your feet.

you heard the jeering and teasing behind you but paid it no mind, using all of your restraint not to sprint across the field as your girlfriend hurried into training, a polite smile and greeting flashed at the media team.

"hola." alexia smiled, and despite how well she often hid it you could see the exhaustion in her eyes as she did so, the two of you having clear boundaries around your displays of affection in professional settings.

so you settled for the brief but sincere hug the two of you shared, a subtle kiss to your shoulder and a quiet i missed you in your ear.

"qué?" alexia frowned at the amused look you were giving her, the pair of you moving back toward the group as the rest of the coaching staff filed out to the field to start training.

"muy bonita." your thumb traced her jaw, her makeup from the event earlier still clear and evident on her face. "no time to take it off." alexia grumbled and your smiled only widened, knowing that secretly your girlfriend wasn't as upset about this as she might seem.

regardless she played her part, pushing and smacking at both vicky and jana whose teasings continued throughout the session.

mocking cries of 'salve la reina' echoing about the field before your girlfriend silenced them with skill, a rainbow flick over vickys head and into the goal having her jaw dropped and the moment the whistle blew she was by alexia's side begging her to show her how.

you watched with a fond smile as the blonde dragged the younger girl in for lunch in a headlock, a kick to the back of your knees having you stumbling and then sprinting off after mapi.

"oh look there is alexia entering the room. there is alexia getting her lunch. there is alexia-" you swallowed your mouthful of food and tried not to choke as fridos hands smooshed your cheeks, forcing your head to follow your girlfriends every move.

"déjame en paz!" you huffed, yanking her hands off and shrugging her away as she moved to slide into the seat across from you with a wink.

"you are so annoying on mondays." you grunted, the blonde pulling a face and falling into conversation with the rest of the table.

"oh and look here is alexia sitting down!" she paused speaking with esme to announce, your girfriend giving her a strange look as she settled beside you, knee knocking into yours in a silent hello.

"ignore her." you grumbled, frido sending you both a happy smile and turning away again. "pareces cansado amor." your face scrunched a little in concern, hand brushing hers beneath the table.

"estoy bien." alexia murmured, lips quickly pressing against your cheek reassuringly before ingrid called her name and tugged her into conversation.

however throughout lunch you noticed her contributions became less and less, sentences turned to singular words which turned to only hums of agreement and to show she was even listening which truly you weren't sure she was.

when you'd both finished eating you hurried to grab her tray and yours, dismissing her protests as she got up and followed after you none the less.

there was still a half hour left of your break but you could see the exhaustion still clear in her eyes as you tugged on her shirt and nodded for her to follow after you.

"dónde?" the blonde frowned as she fell into step with you none the less, the chatter of the lunch room fading behind you and your hand found its way into hers.

"cariño. i thought we said-" you glanced toward her as you tugged her into the media room where everyone was due to spill into for the afternoon. "oh no! we are not here for that, putellas." you laughed, recognizing the way her eyes raked over your body.

"qué hacemos aquí?" your girlfriend asked and you didn't miss the way her other hand grazed your hip causing you to chuckle. "you are going to take a nap." you smiled, a look of disgust painted on your girlfriends face as you took a seat and patted the chair beside you.

"a nap? i am not a child!" she scoffed as you wordlessly patted the seat beside you. "vale. then just come sit with me, look at social media, rest." you shrugged, the blonde looking like she was going to continue to argue but with a quirk of your eyebrow she relented.

"gruñón." you teased, poking her cheek as her eyes rolled but her body leaned into yours none the less, her focus down on her phone. you jumped a little in shock as not a minute later it fell into your lap and you had to put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself laughing.

"idiota." you smiled, carefully adjusting your position so the taller girls head slumped to your shoulder, chest rising and falling as you resumed the doom scrolling of your own phone.

but the peace didn't last long as you heard the chatter and giggles which meant the two of you wouldn't be alone for much longer, one of your arms wedged behind alexia as she slept on, her own arms crossed and a stoic look on her face even as she rested.

something you'd teased her for endlessly and it appeared you wouldn't be the only one as the first group of girls burst into the room, silenced by the murderous glare you shot their way, giggles dying and voices hushed as they hurried up to the back of the room.

"vicky." you warned quietly as the girl hung behind her friends, phone in hand and a slight smile on her face.

"no." you shook your head as her smile grew, and you sighed as she snapped a few photos and raced off after the others. but she wasn't alone as several of the girls did the same, none quite loud enough to wake your girlfriend but all capturing the moment of her asleep half on top of you before hurrying to their seats.

but of course, there was one person who would never be one to let her rest, intentional or not.

"oye capitana, despertar sunshine!" mapi cooed bursting into the room as alexia shot up as if someone had poured cold water all over her and ingrid winced, smacking her girlfriend and shoving her into a seat.

"ow! what?" mapi grumbled as ingrid told her off quietly, shaking her head as the defender huffed and sulked in her chair. "i fell asleep? you should have woken me." alexia sighed, sending you a tired glare as she stretched her neck.

"you needed the sleep cari, it was only a little while." you promised, squeezing her knee as the older girl sighed but nodded, settling back into her chair as the lights were dimmed and pere entered, starting to set up the presentation for you all to watch.

"vicky!" you jolted again in surprise as alexia's head whipped around, phone in hand and eyes narrowing into a glare at the younger girl sat at the back of the room whose smile dropped and she paled.

"delete that story, ahora mismo. or you can run laps until you drop!"

[oneforthemunny]

i'm not entirely sure what prompted this. to be utterly honest, the holidays are rough sometimes, and i've been kind of struggling so here's this bc this is how i cope now :)

tw: mentions of loss, grief, depression.

“...at the tone, please record your message.” 

Beep.

“Uh, hey. It’s-It’s Eddie. I, uh, I was just calling to, uh- I was just wanting to check on ya. I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days, sweetheart, and I know you’ve been busy. I just… Yeah, gimme a call back when you can, alright? I still got those VHS’s. Rentals not due for a couple of days. I’d-I’d really like to see you. Just… call me back when you get this. Even if it’s late. Love you.” 

The lights on your tree started to blur, water-stained with blinding, swirling tears of guilt. Settled on your couch, in the same crumpled position that you fell into as soon as you got off work, waves of exhaustion consuming you, but sleep never came easily. 

The most wonderful time of the year was a stretch, a mockery of a term that felt poisoned and back handed. With every happy, glowy commercial, all smiling families and sing-songy laugh; it made you feel sick at the falseness of it all. 

It had been four days since you last spoke to Eddie, nearing two weeks since you saw him in person. Not out of spite, or a fight like it had been in the past. This time, it was you- all you. 

The message on the receiver played on a loop, you jammed your finger on the button, letting it sound off its automated message before his voice filled the silent space in the room. You missed the sound of his voice, the warmth behind it so comforting in this frigid winter. It might be better to call him, actually hear him and talk to him, but every time you reached for the phone, you couldn’t dial his number. That would mean you’d have to talk, have to say something, tell him why you’d been so MIA, and that required a strength you didn’t have yet. 

Somewhere between the late night talk show coming on, but not before your neighbor’s lights turned off, there was a knock at your door. You figured it was your neighbor across from you, Mrs. Jennings, always bringing you baked treats in festive sweaters, leaving with a hearty “Merry Christmas!” that always had you crumbling inside. 

“Baby?” Your body stilled, breath caught in your lungs at the sound, like he might be able to see you through the door. 

“Hey, I-I know you’re in there.” Eddie’s voice was soft, muffled by the heavy wood of your door. “Not to sound like a total fuckin’ stalker or anything. I just… I wanna make sure you’re ok?” 

Your mind screamed at you to move, to go answer the door, to reply, to do anything. 

The lock jiggled, a squeak and a creak before the door was opening softly- hesitantly, like he was scared of what he might find on the other side. “Babe?” Eddie’s eyes scanned the small kitchen area, your purse slung on the table, shoes kicked off by the door into a pile. 

“You alright? I-I called you a coupla times, actually, and I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” His voice was tight, heavy soled steps on the carpet. 

You knew he saw you by the way he stopped. Halted behind the couch, hovering over a collapsed you on the couch. Tear stained sweatshirt sleeves under your head, an array of photo albums you always kept tucked in the top of the storage closet down the hall, memories sprawled out on the coffee table, creased on the edges from your shaky grasp. 

The one closest to you had his stomach dropping. He’d seen her before, the solemn looks and shaky breaths that you and your family gave when you’d pass the outdated family portrait in your home. Plastered on the wall with matching bright smiles, but looming with a haunting, sickening feeling. Eddie knew the feeling, a little too well. 

“Oh.” Eddie breathed before he could help himself. 

You wanted to sob, felt the burn of it in your throat, curling into yourself. 

“No, no, no, I-I didn’t-” Eddie’s eyes darted frantically, reaching out towards you, but never touching you. He knew what this felt like, knew the embarrassment and vulnerability, the shame and dread. 

He knew what it felt like. 

Silently, he sank next to you on the couch, careful of the delicate photos, placing them out of the way with a gentleness that had you sniffling, swallowing down a whimpering cry. A hand on your back, pulling your body into his, letting the weight of you settle onto his chest. 

Your face moved into the soft cotton of his tee. He’d smoked on the way over here, though it was comforting. Nose rubbing against his chest, clinging to the fabric next to you in a fisted clutch. Eddie’s arms around your frame, holding you firmly yet so softly at the same time. 

Your neighbor’s lights were off by the time you finally spoke. 

“I was in line at Melvald’s getting wrapping paper,” You croaked, voice raspy with emotions, cheek still pressed to Eddie’s chest. You could hear his heartbeat. “And they started playing this song. The Christmas one by The Partridge Family?” 

Eddie nodded slowly, hand still gliding soothingly up and down your spine. He could feel your shaky breath through his fingertips. “She, uh,” You swallowed around the words. “She used to love that song. Would always sing it when we’d put the trimmings on the tree. My mom would have that hanging tinsel you know?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And,” Your tone fell at the thought, at the mention of her again. “She’d always play this song on a loop. Would throw it around, all over the branches just to piss my mom off.” Your lips curled at the memory. You always laughed when she did that. Now you couldn’t because you knew she’d never do it again. 

There was a moment, a beat of silence in the still room. “Anyways, I…I was going to get wrapping paper because I’m so fucking behind on wrapping and-and buying, because I’ve been working-” 

“-You’ve been working a lot.” Eddie’s eyes cut down to you, carefully. 

You sighed, a shudder of a breath in. “Yeah. I know.” It was soft, an apology. You didn’t need to, but Eddie was glad to hear it. Selfishly, he was relieved that his fears that this was somehow his fault, that he’d done something to upset you, weren’t true. 

“I just… I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to be busy? I felt like if I stayed busy, I wouldn’t really get to think about it. Get this holiday over with and then I wouldn’t feel so…” You didn’t really know what to say, how to describe the feeling. 

“No, I… I get it.” Eddie nodded slowly, staring off in the colorful strands of lights glimmering from the tree in the far corner of the room. “My mom used to wear that, uh, that Pond's stuff to bed. The face stuff with the green lid?” You nodded slowly, cheek still smushed against his chest. 

“And right after she passed, I-I was in middle school, right? Seventh grade. And we had a sub and… fuck, she smelled just like that cream.” Eddie shook his head softly at the memory. “She just walked past me to make sure we were reading, and I smelled it and… I just ran out of the classroom because I didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. But, like, running out wasn’t much better.” 

You snorted softly, light enough to have Eddie’s gaze peering back down to you, heart skipping in his chest. “Yeah, I would say that might make it worse.” 

“Wasn’t very smooth.” Eddie nodded. “Just running out of the classroom seemed better than crying.” 

You paused for a moment, lips puckered in a pout. “It’s weird.” You muttered, still looking ahead. “How you’re just out and the smallest things just… send you over the edge.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed. “Grief’s a weird thing.” 

“Really weird.” You mumbled. 

Eddie ducked his chin down, let his nose press into your scalp, breathing in your scent, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m here for you, you know?” He muttered, the vibrations from his words tickling your scalp. “For when it gets weird. You don’t… this sounds really fuckin’ cheesy and I’m sorry, but you don’t have to do it by yourself. Don’t have to be alone.” 

You weren’t sure what to say. Not sure you could even speak if you did know what to say, the growing lump in your throat strangling you. Instead, you clung tighter to his shirt, pressed yourself further into the warm, inviting hold that felt familiar and calming. 

Eddie would go and get the wrapping paper for you tomorrow, even help you wrap a few gifts. He’d help you carefully put up the photos with a gentleness that would have your heart fluttering. But for now, he held you, fingers moving down your spine, chin pressed to the top of your head, pulling you closer to him on the tiny couch.

[dark-corner-cunning]

Poppet Retribution Magick: Unleashing A Bellyful of Misfortune To Bring Financial Ruin

Update 5/7/24: My friend contacted me last night to let me know that Father has reached out and told them they could feel their pain and it has been weighing on him. 😁 He also wants to reconcile! This is exciting news for them and a new opportunity for them to build a relationship and heal together. Once I get the "Ok" from my friend I will release Father from his poppet.

Reader’s Notes: This working was originally constructed for a friend who wanted retribution against their father who abandoned and neglected them during childhood. They opted to hit their father where it would hurt him the most... his pockets... by any means necessary! We decided to go with a less intense sickness working and a working that reflected the weight of my friend's pain and sadness they have carried over the years. Also, if baneful, retribution or justice magick isn’t your jam…just quietly scroll on!! As always, feel free to take what resonates and leave the rest!

I did this working in alignment with the Solar Eclipse for more energy.

Please use safety as always with any working. This working uses fire, a sharp knife, and spicy pepper flakes.

Lastly, I am a "Words" witch... I love words of power (Mercury in my 10th house). You can always opt for no-words or you can record the sayings beforehand and play them on repeat at that step that requires that saying so that you can focus on the actions and energy.

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

When a father walks out on his family, it can feel like the ultimate betrayal. The pain and trauma caused by his abandonment can have lasting effects on everyone involved. But for those who believe in the powers of witchcraft, there may be a way to not only cope with the misfortune of a father's abandonment but also to seek justice for his greed and neglect. This is where witchcraft comes in.

Ingredients:

Mix all the ingredients from the 1st group in a bowl (except the roaches, snakeskin, and thorns) before stuffing. Be aware that the pepper flakes can and will burn your eyes, possibly your skin, and make your nose run.

Thorns – cursing & hexing, pain, discomfort

Stones – pain & discomfort.. I went with 9

Spiderwebs – ensnaring, halting, binding

Ash – suffocation

Wormwood – strife & misfortune

Stagnant Water – rut, stagnate, failed plans

Snakeskin – inhibits growth

Helter Skelter/Cursing Oil – destruction

Dead/Rotting Roaches – causes hardship, strife, infestation of sickness

Poppy Seed – confusion

Mustard Seed -disruption, prevent help

Hot Pepper/Red Pepper Flakes – accelerates, burns

Boneset – cursing

Apple of Peru/Shoo-Fly Plant – Reversing Wealth & Money

1 Poppet - I sewed a picture of "Father's" face to it... thanks FB! When making your poppet, make sure you place a piece of paper with the target's name and DOB inside beforehand.

1 Red Candle

1 Craft knife

1 Needle with Red String

Poppet Stuffing - In folk magick stuffing was quite literally anything that could be used. I choose polyfill... however, feel free to use whatever you like.

Black Cord or String - Binding

Optional: 1 Plant or Something "Alive" to Tether To

Optional: Pictures, Taglocks, Sigils, Petitions - You need at least a full name and date of birth.

Optional: Orange Candles and Road-Opener Oil - To be done beforehand to remove any protections and help with the working hitting harder.

Steps:

Activate the Poppet: “Poppet, I name you _. Your limbs are their limbs. Your flesh is their flesh. Your life is their life. As you suffer, so shall they suffer.”

Then thinking about the life force within... take a deep breath and blow life into the poppet. Think breathing for CPR.

The next step I did was a road opener & path-clearing. I used 5 candles to represent the elements, roads, and planes. Each candle had "Father's" name written on it and then anointed with a road opener oil. You can use whatever method of road opener you want here.

Once the road opener finished I then tethered the poppet to a plant. I did this by tying a vine from the plant to the poppet's arm and energetically tethered them together. Just remember to choose a plant or something that is easily taken care of after.

Tethered to this plant, my work shall be

Bound by nature's energy, I decree

All blow back shall fall upon the tether

For this spell, my power shall weather

With hands held high, I cast my charm

As the plant's roots dig deep, my magic is armed

From earth to sky, the tether extends

My working and this plant, now forever blend

The energy flows, from me to thee

As this plant, my spell's vessel be

Each leaf, each stem, a conduit of power

Growing stronger with each passing hour

No force of nature can break this bond

For my magic and this plant, forever correspond

Together they thrive, in harmony

Tethered as one, for all eternity

So let the winds howl and the storms rage

My spell shall stand strong, in this earthly cage

For all the energy of this spell

Is now tethered to this plant, with magic compel

So mote it be, this working is done

Tethered to this plant, this working is one

Then taking the craft knife cut the poppet's belly open. You will have to more than likely remove some stuffing to make some room for your stuffing. Stuff the poppet with your bowl mixture, stones, dead roaches, snakeskin, thorns, sigils, and what-not.

Swallow your greed with a belly full of stones

For it will bring you nothing but a life full of moans

Chasing after wealth, blind to the harm

Leaves you with a bitter taste, like a snake's charm

Choke on the lies you told yourself

That money and power were the only true wealth

But as you suffocate, reality sets in

Your failure and greed, now it's time to begin

Financial ruin, your once thriving business now failed

Your ego and pride, too great to be bailed

You mistreated your (daughter/son/Pronoun), a soul so pure

Abandoning & neglecting (pronoun), now it's your time to endure

So, Swallow your greed, let it be consumed With each stone, let your finances be doomed.

Then take the needle and thread and sew the belly closed. Once finished, take a red candle and seal the stitches.

Then take your black cord and bind the poppet. I chose to bind "Father" in a pentagram/elemental binding. The binding is started by being tied off at the neck, then the cord is wrapped around the left leg, then the right arm, then the left arm, then the right leg, and then back up to the neck. You can wrap this as many times as you like and you can certainly just bind your poppet however you like.

In the midst of chaos, in the midst of strife,

There lies a number, 5, that brings unexpected life.

It holds the power to shake things up, to make you lose control,

And in its grip, you are left to pay the ultimate toll.

Earth, air, fire, water, and the spirit within,

These 5 elements, a force to reckon and herein.

They bind you to this spell, a spell you cannot break,

And with each passing moment, your foundations start to shake.

The earth beneath your feet, solid and strong,

Yet when it quakes, you realize you were wrong.

The air you breathe, so vital to your existence,

But in a chaotic storm, it shows its true persistence.

Fire, the element of passion and desire,

But when it rages, it leaves you in dire.

Water, so calm and serene in its flow,

But in a flood, it can cause you to let go.

The spirit, the 5th element, unseen yet ever-present,

It binds you to this spell, a force so incessant.

It connects you all in ways you cannot comprehend,

And in its grasp, you are unable to defend.

And as these 5 elements collide and intertwine,

Your finances, too, fall victim to this bind.

For in the midst of chaos, your finances are unable to thrive,

And as your finances crumble, you are left with nothing to revive.

So by the power of 5, you descend,

For it holds a chaotic force that has no end.

And by the elements I bind you to this spell,

Remember, it is not a fight you can ever win or quell.

Once bound, then I untethered the plant and placed "Father" in a bucket of stagnant stormwater to drown in (this is symbolic of all the tears my friend has cried over the years) at the height of totality during the eclipse. I placed a cover over "Father" and there he will stay until the night of the full moon. Then I will take him out and bury him deep in the woods off my property to slowly rot.

[paracosmenthusiast]

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart part 1~!!! yay!

~~

Chapter 1: Innocent

This one is going to be a lot more angst than what I usually put out, but I think it’s suitable not only for the universe of the Bear, but for what I’ve learned about the industry from my very own Carmy.

WARNING: 18+ - mention of substance use and mature themes.

~

I’m sitting at the kitchen counter with all the lights off and the curtains thrown open so the lights of the city dimly illuminate the space.

Phone face down on the counter in front of me. I don’t want to pick it up because all the evidence is right there (not that it was hard to put together) and looking at it made me sick. I threw up six times already and it was mostly bile and saliva but, my throat hurts. My chest hurts. For more than one reason.

The door shakes, a key jammed in the lock, I know the sound like the back of my hand after almost six months of hearing it. I can probably tell with my eyes closed now whether it’s Carmy or someone else coming in. This time it’s him.

What’s the point of talking? I asked myself this more than a few times in the last couple of hours waiting for him to get home. What’s the point of talking when the conversation is only going to have one conclusion and I’m going to have to go pack my bag either way? But for some reason (becauseIwanttostay) I didn’t pack my bag first and for some reason (becauseIdon’twanthimtogo) I’m having this conversation with him.

He doesn’t realize I’m here at first until he flicks on the light and has a little jumpscare. When he catches his breath he says: “Why are you sitting in the dark? You scared the shit out of me.”

I turn around and I have to smile at the sight of him, his hair is sweaty, he always comes home sweaty, and his tousled button up open to the white undershirt underneath. Then I think I’m a fucking psycho for smiling at a time like this and the look wears off quick.

He’s a smart guy. He picks up on the somber atmosphere right away. “What’s going on?”

The world’s kinda traveling in slow motion at this point. I can’t pick up my phone to show him and I’m too tired to get all the words out. All of a sudden it’s all gone. All my energy. All my desire to fight. I should’ve said, do you have something you want to tell me? I should accuse him, should throw it all in his face, but I can’t, suddenly, it’s all gone. I’m all spent, used up. I get up from my seat and then my feet are going one in front of the other toward the bedroom. “I know.”

“What are you talking about? You know what?” He has to raise his voice because I leave him in the foyer.

Don’t look at the bed. I get my duffel out of the top shelf in the closet. Just some essentials and we can divide everything else up later. He’s followed me to the doorway by now. “What are you doing?”

“I know,” don’t make me say it, I can’t say it, I’ve seen the pictures, “I know, Carmen.”

Turn around to show him that I’m filling up a bag of my things. He gets this look sometimes that makes me sad now because I used to love it–the problem solver, crunching the numbers, riddling out the situation.

Except this time the color just leaves his face when the recognition flicks on and he swears, turns away from me, starts running his hands through his hair.

That’s right, don’t say a damn word in your defense, just watch me walk away, don’t tell me not to go, just watch me leave;

I want him to plead for forgiveness but, he is silent,

I say, “I’ll be around to get my stuff.”

Glittering shimmering iridescent soap bubble of a six month relationship, burst. Gone. Not a trace.

“What? Come on. I’ve been working a lot, not that you can possibly begin to understand that, and I’m fucking tired. Sorry I’m late to come home, I didn’t realize it would be a huge thing.”

The anger I feel comes out of nowhere, and burns hot and quick, the words rushing over one another and then stumbling and faltering. “This has nothing to do with dinner, Carmy, I know about the other girls, you, you, … Slimy bastard?”

“Hey, fuck you. Why are you going through my phone?”

“Why am I–” Calm down. My voice is ascending to the high heavens where only dogs and Ariana Grande can hear it. I take a breath. “My actions aren’t under scrutiny right now, Carmen, you fucking cheated on me. Fuck me? Really? No, you haven’t been, that’s kind of the fucking problem, you’ve been fucking everyone else! And I do mean everyone.”

“Fuck you. Stop yelling at me. I never met anybody.” And he does this thing he always does, looks around for something else to do, like he has better places to be than having this conversation.

But I do too. I yank open the dresser drawer and dump a handful of my underwear into the duffel. Slam the drawer shut. My voice is still shaky: “Oh my God, I’ve seen the pictures. ‘Thick Amanda xx’ sound familiar? What about Throat Goat Amber?”

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t meet up with anybody. I didn’t do anything.”

Anddd we’re back to Ariana Grande octaves again. “Sending and asking for nudes and telling them all the gritty details of what you’d do to them is fucking cheating to me, Carmen!”

“Fuck you. I don’t have to do this shit right now, I’m tired. I just got off work.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I’m confronting you at a time that isn’t convenient. You dumb bitch. Don’t fucking avoid the subject.”

“Why? What is there to say? I didn’t do anything!”

I’ve never wanted to strangle him so badly in my life. When I stop shoveling my clothes into the duffel and look up at him, he’s not even looking at me. Just fidgeting in the doorway, smoking already, one hand angrily combing through his hair.

“Yes you did,” is what I actually say. “You cheated on me. And that’s just the start– I–I think I hate you.”

Oh, he wasn’t expecting that. He snaps back to the moment like he never tried to wriggle out of the situation. “What?”

I’m floating out of my body and looking down on it from far away. “I think I hate you.”

What a sick realization on our six month anniversary.

“Six months and you think you hate me? I told you from the start I’m fucked up, I have issues.”

And you wear that excuse like armor, I think, but I put my hands to my face, pushing back on my temples. “Are you sorry you did it?”

It takes him a minute to answer, but not because he’s lying. I can see all the emotions filter over his face as he processes. He’s relieved. He thinks that he’s de-escalated the situation and at least put a stall to me packing my shit. “I mean, yeah. Yeah, it’s really fucked. I’m sorry. I just don’t have time to really think about this right now.”

Whatever beginnings of sympathy he had drummed up in me fall completely flat at that. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, my bad, it’s not the right time. Fuck me, Carmen, it’s never going to be the right time.”

“That’s not what I said,” he says. “Fuck you. I don’t need this right now. I just got off work–”

Use it like fucking armor, ‘I just got off work,’ like you always do–

“No, don’t bother walking out,” I say. “Let me do it this time.”

My duffel only has a couple shirts and a pair of pants but I don’t care. I have to come back later to get more and right now I just want to get to the hotel. I pick up the bag and zip it shut even though it doesn’t feel like my hands are working and I can’t look at him.

He gets out of the way when I go to leave our bedroom. Doesn’t say anything just backs up, until he hits the wall of the hallway,

I glance back at him as I’m fumbling with the front door,

He’s just… Standing there. Like he’s in shock. Like he doesn’t quite get how his actions lead him here. Fuck this.

I slam the door on purpose because I know he hates it.

-Four Years (And a different failed relationship) Later-

“I can’t get this out of my head. Look. This picture with her arm up and that smile–”

“Shut up, shut up, look, we’re here!” Actually we’ve been in Chicago for a minute, but as much as I thought I could take talking about the Eras Tour for sixteen consecutive hours on the drive up, I was wrong. So wrong. So I deploy distraction strategy number 1: Pointing out scenery.

Kendra falls for it, whipping around in her seat. “What, where? None of these buildings look like a habitable apartment. Except that one–Wait, that’s a restaurant. The Bear. What a funky name.”

It worked. I glance in the direction she points, because I’m starving and I promised to take her somewhere nice tomorrow as thanks for helping me move. “What restaurant?”

My question was redundant because the restaurant is very obvious, the nicest exterior on the street. And I glanced at exactly the right moment because the front door opens, I can catch a glimpse of a ritzy interior, and someone walks out. I know the look of that shirt, it reminds me of a guy I used to date, and actually, funny anecdote, his hair does, too.

Then I slam on the brakes knee-jerk reaction and the strangled ghoul-like voice that comes out of my mouth certainly doesn’t belong to me: “Oh my fucking god, Kendra, that’s the guy!” Pitches up into hysteria at the end.

I’m staring right into his face! It’s Carmen! It’s fucking Carmen staring right back at me!

Kendra whips around in her seat in the most overt way possible and I realize how fucking insane it is to stop in the middle of the road, the guy who at least looks just like Carmen is looking our way probably confused by me slamming on the brakes, so I do the opposite (and weirder) thing, and I HIT THE GAS. Oh fuck, this day could not get worse.

“WAIT! I didn’t get a good look!” Kendra smacks my arm. “Way to be low-key.”

But I can only breathe once I’ve turned the corner (I wasn’t supposed to turn according to my frantic GPS, but who cares, I have to pull over, if just for a second).

This is crazy. I’ve been in Chicago for one day, four years later, who’s the first person I see? Carmen fucking Berzatto.

Well, I barely even recognized him. Actually who’s to say that was even him. Yeah, joke’s on me, I’m seeing ghosts because I’m stressed by the move and by the breakup and by the long day of driving, yeah, that’s it. It’s gotta be.

“Sorry,” I say, carefully returning to traffic. Both hands on the wheel, both eyes on the road. “I think I mistook that guy for somebody else. He looked like the guy I used to date in New York, a little bit.”

Kendra’s the ever-vigilant internet super sleuth and she already has her phone out. “Oh, no, that was definitely him. Says he just reopened and revamped his brother’s business. The restaurant’s called The Bear now. Carmen Berzatto. That’s the guy, isn’t it?”

And to add insult to injury she shoves her phone with a picture of his face pulled up right in front of my eyes.

I swat it away but not before I catch an unfortunate glimpse. “Don’t distract the driver.”

“Hmm,” she says. Gleeful. “Come on, let’s get to your new place, we need wine so we can discuss this.”

Discuss? What is there to discuss? Nothing. We have nothing to discuss and there is no reason to go hunting for ghosts. “Stop it, Kendra. I mean it.”

I haven’t thought about it in a long time but a memory comes back to me, the look on his face when I left. He helped me carry my boxes out at least. But I still think about that look–like he was in shock, like he couldn’t believe how his actions could’ve lead to the point of us dissolving.

“What if I buy the wine?”

Actually, how is a six month relationship from four years ago even remotely in my head right now? I just broke up with my fiance to move here. Oh, God. Another relationship that didn’t even make it to a year. I am not doing well on the scoreboards these days.

“Hey, are you listening? I said what if I buy the wine. I can even DoorDash it, I think. Or UberEats. Or I could just take the car to the liquor store…”

Fuck, my apartment is coming up on the right. How did I end up so close to his restaurant? What a sick twist of fate. Why didn’t I look closer at Google maps before I picked this place? No, I deserve this. This is what I deserve for snapping off a relationship so coldly the way I did and then dropping out of town like I was entering witness protection.

“Hey!”

I jolt from my reverie as we approach a red light. “Sorry. Yes, wine. Please. Lots of it.”

An embarrassing thought flies into my head: Oh God, what if he saw me when I slammed on my brakes? No. No way.

If I keep thinking about this I’m going to ascend right out of my skin from the mortification, so I focus on directing myself to park the damn car so I can get out from behind the wheel ASAP. And preferably get inside where I can hide behind closed curtains. And wine. Closed curtains, and a lot of wine.

---

Part 2: Chapter 2 - The Black Dog

masterlist: Paracosm Enthusiast Masterlist

[hades-in-bloom]

‘Till Death Do Us Part, Pt. 1 | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: Leon is late to his own wedding, albeit he seems to have a solid excuse.

could be read as a follow up to

content: assumed older Leon, assumed age gap, no mentions of y/n, a tad of angst, everything’s about Leon, the Redfield siblings stepping in, reader’s POV

author’s note: there’ll be plenty of Leon himself in the follow up, i pinky promise; as always, barely proofread, proceed at your own risk.

word count: author is capable only of drabbles, so.

thank you so much for reading, y’all

xoxo

***

When the Redfields barge into your room uninvited, you immediately think of the worst.

“Where is he?” you jump out of your chair, dragging a hem of your wedding dress with you towards the siblings. Your patience is wearing thin before Chris takes a deep breath, and Claire speaks up. You can imagine these two play rock-paper-scissor behind the door on who is going to be a bearer of the bad news, although right now you are not sure who wins at the end.

“He is late,” Claire’s gaze pleads you to stay calm. She has way too much faith, though, and she definitely asks too much of you, when Leon is late to his own wedding; and as the Redfields are here, you are convinced that things are a tad more serious than your fiancé being stuck in one of New York’s terrible traffic jams.

Somehow Chris reads your mind.

“He is going to be here soon,” Redfield vows, although you don’t think that he is in a position to. Leon S. Kennedy should’ve been the only man to vow anything to you today.

“Where is he?” you ask again, this time with a specific accent at beginning of the sentence, and the more you eye both Claire and Chris with a searching glance the heavier the air. Claire gives her brother a dirty look, and only then Chris admits:

“Leon was called to work last night,” Redfield confesses. You blink once, feeling sick. This would mean that last night Leon lied to you. Chris seems to notice your thought process again. “He didn’t want to worry you. He was supposed to be quick.”

“He was supposed to be at his bachelor’s party,” you object. You can’t blame Chris for Leon’s assignment, but right now you have to blame someone. Redfield understands.

Claire makes a step forward, touching your shoulder, and then hugs you. You freeze for a second, but then hug her back, and Claire holds you tight.

There is still hope that he shows up. Sooner or later, and better late than never. Observing Leon for the past months, you are afraid of “never” being a real possibility even without his stupid job intervening. After all, he didn’t have a great track record of committed relationships, and he wasn’t himself since you’ve started talking about your engagement.

You pull away from Redfield after some time and take a deep breath, collecting yourself.

“He is worth the wait,” Claire says gently, and you show her a weak, but sincere smile in reply.

“He is,” you mumble. He is worth it indeed. This man is a walking problem, but you care about him too much to give up on him that easily. Also, he is lucky to be pretty.

So you ask the Redfield siblings for a favour, – to take care of the guests, – and you wait.

You just need him to get back to you alive. The rest is easy, no matter how hard the conversation is going to be.

***

Your wedding banquet is sacrificed in an attempt to make it up to the people who showed up for the wedding that has never happened. Leon is not just late – he is too late at this point, and your faith is running thin. Also, you are painfully sober for the sake of staying sane by the time he’s back.

He has to get back.

Chris, on the other hand, is a half way into the bottle of whiskey, although, considering his constitution, he needs a lot more alcohol to get drunk. You think that you’ve made a right decision sending him to entertain the guests.

Later you take it as a bad omen when Redfield approaches you with a concerned look at his face.

“His operator says that he’s off the grid,” Chris sees your confusion. He is quick to explain. “Leon isn’t responding.”

Redfield doesn’t like how your eyes widen, and he adds in the last detail; the one he would pay a pretty penny for not to say it out loud at your wedding.

“He was declared missing ten minutes ago,” Chris places his wide palm on your shoulder, but you resent his pity. “I am so sorry.”

You don’t respond, and it takes you a moment to decide on the course of your actions.

You attract everyone’s attention with the loud clink of an exquisitely looking silver knife on a thin champagne glass.

Then your voice breaks for the first time.

“The wedding is cancelled.”

***

[fivepebbles]

Yo yo YO!

‘Sup 5-Pebsi, howzit hangin’? Yeah heard the can crashed pretty heard. Total wipeout, homie. Brutal. Anyways, I thunk i’d stop by to see if any new hotspots to lay down some fire ‘pieces and jam to NSH’s tunes popped up. You have any overseers left? If so, go check out what would have once been your north-east leg. Left ya somefin’! It was doooope to scoot all the way up and down here! Anyways, gotta go. If you don’t like it, five pebbles five…

…shmeckles.

Uh yeah bummer but cya bromie i gotta shmoove or i’ll get totally soaked and my paint ‘ll wash off.

Ya Boi

-Da Vinki

It's not 'hangin'.

Nothing's 'hangin' anymore. My superstructure collapsed. Its gone. I have nothing left. Why must you do this to me, after everything I've been through? Did an iterator send you? Did NSH send you? I bet this is one of his sick jokes. I will be having none of this. Leave now, little creature, and no harm will come your way.

[dalchiid]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 51

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 5,963

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter 51 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, Mention of Necrophilia

Prev | Next

It's been almost two weeks since both you and Hoseok spent time together at the Fall festival. The temperature is a little chillier and Jimin's birthday is right around the corner.

Speaking of Jimin his punishment has been lifted much to Jungkook's disappointment. He can bring his girls back home. Despite this change he hasn't yet for whatever reason but to say he was happy is an understatement. Seokjin said this is his birthday present from him and all that did was make Jimin laugh joyously.

Knowing you were going to be under the same roof as a dead girl just made you feel sick but you had little right to say what can and can't be done under the Bangtan clan's roof.

Another thing happening is how much closer you and Hoseok are getting. It's all fake on your part really but what Hoseok doesn't know won't hurt him.

He's known to be a hard worker but he's been skipping out a little so he can lie curled up in bed with you. If not there then on the couch in his study. It's like you're in the honeymoon phase of your relationship because everything you do now leaves him feeling absolutely in love and it appears like you are too.

Like right now. You're in his bed with him holding each other close. You already washed up for the day but you put your pajamas back on so you can stay in bed. Breakfast was brought up for you and despite feeling embarrassed about it you let him feed you and in a tender expression of "love" you wiped his lip covered in jam with your thumb before bringing it into your mouth to taste. He smiled in a love induced daze and helped you finish off your meals.

He has an arm around you with his hand slowly massaging the back of your head right now. Your eyes are closed but you feel him breathe beneath your gentle touch. Your fingers run up and down his back and if it weren't because he didn't want to ruin what you have going on right now you're sure he would have taken his shirt off so he could feel closer to you.

His lips run softly across your own. The feeling is grounding you. Letting you know that what's happening here and now is real. If it weren't because of the truth you think you could sleep soundly like this. Even if it's just for a few minutes.

It's just you and Hoseok. Nothing and no one else.

"I love you," he whispers.

You pucker your lips to kiss his own and that's enough of a response for him.

It's oddly relaxing when you don't think about it. When you don't think about the reason you're doing this. When you don't think on how it's Hoseok you're doing this with. It's like you're on a different plane and you can live with that but only temporarily of course. You have to remind yourself that.

Hoseok's fingers stop moving so he can cup the back of your head as he leans in to kiss you again. It's soft and soundless.

"I want to be with you like this forever."

You open your eyes a little to see his are still closed. He wants to bask in this warmth you're providing emotionally and you're willing to give until you can't anymore, but you'll think about the latter part another time. For now you're just existing and in the best way you can.

You close your eyes again with a hum. If it weren't because you have the sudden urge to pee then maybe you would stay like this forever.

"I have to use the bathroom."

There's a moment of silence before Hoseok sighs. The two of you open your eyes and you see the dopey smile he has on.

"Sorry," you say.

"You don't need to apologize." He kisses you. "Just as long as you come back to me."

You mirror his smile with one of your own.

There's no need for a reply because the answer is obvious.

Getting up from the bed you rush over to the bathroom to do what you need to do. When you're done you take a quick glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You're not smiling. Far from it. You look devoid of all emotion. You practice a smile that looks foreign on your face but it doesn't worry you because when you're in front of Hoseok you can pretend pretty well.

Drying your hands on the hand towels you give yourself a minute to prepare your mind. You've been playing pretend for a couple of days now. It comes easy yet at the same time it's exhausting. Hoseok doesn't suspect a thing or at least you don't think he does. He's absolutely over the moon with your change of attitude towards him. No one says anything against it because it's mostly just been you and Hoseok so there's no one to object. The two of you have been having your meals alone in his bedroom leaving no one to have a say in a relationship they're not privy to. This level of isolation is not what you expected but it gives you a chance to set Hoseok up in a way that you'd like. He's hanging off of every thing you say and every touch you make without someone to call you out on your bullshit. It's perfect.

You bare your teeth in a mock smile before heading back into Hoseok's room where he awaits you on the bed. He hasn't moved much from his position. He's angled somewhat on his back with his phone in hand. He's absorbed into whatever he's looking at. So much so that when you crawl back into his arms he doesn't immediately react to your touch.

You wrap your arms and leg around him bringing him close to you. From this angle with just a turn of your head you can see what he's looking at. It's a text but you don't get to see who it's from or what it says because he presses the power button to lock it and places it down behind him.

He's silent and doesn't hug you back. It's a difference in attitude from before and so when you look at him your brows draw together in curious concern.

"You okay," you ask.

Hoseok looks down at you without an emotion to express but his arms come around you.

"Yeah," he says.

You frown and it makes a small smile form on his lips.

"I promise I'm okay. Just some work stuff."

"Oh." You rest your face against the space between his shoulder and neck. "You haven't really worked these past couple of days. I hope I'm not the reason why."

He detects the way you jest and it makes him laugh. "No not at all. I'm having way too much fun being with you."

You roll your eyes. "I doubt us laying around with each other constitutes as fun, Hoseok."

"Well you and I have very different ideas of fun then." He kisses the top of your head and holds you close. "I love being like this with you. It means the world to me."

You guess after having been anything but nice to be around for the majority of your stay here being like this with one another would be considered enjoyable.

You sigh into his neck before feeling the way he peppers small kisses onto the top of your head. You let him and close your eyes to the feel of it.

Hoseok hums and for a second it seems like he wants to say something. You can feel the way he holds his breath for a moment each time and the way his fingers tap against your back. You're about to tell him to just say it but he beats you to it.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. You know that right?"

Your response is immediate. "I know."

"And there's nothing you wouldn't do for me?"

Your eyes slowly open.

Is this a test? You can say you feel the same way but you don't want to push it. It was just recent that you started expressing yourself this way towards him. You don't want him to suspect that you're lying but the longer you stay quiet the more you're starting to reveal to him that you actually don't care or maybe that you're just hesitant? Thankfully he says something for you.

"It's probably going to take some time to feel this way," he says. "But you're already half way there."

You press your lips against his neck and whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're doing great so far."

He holds you tightly and you just hold him back. There's not much else you can say or do right now.

Time passes by with the two of you like this. Just like the other days before. It's at some point that you think he might have fallen asleep and you're close behind him. You don't know what time it is and you're too afraid to check your phone lest you wake Hoseok up so you just let things be as they are without question. You're settling for a light sleep when there's a sudden loud knock against the door that startles both you and Hoseok. You turn to see Seokjin as he barrels through and he looks both worried and upset.

"Seokjin what the fuck?" Hoseok growls. He's lying protectively over you as if his brother's sudden appearance will bring you harm.

"Sorry to interrupt whatever it is you're doing but we have a problem." The eldest looks pissed and you can only imagine what made him this way. "Jimin and Jungkook were attacked."

Hoseok abruptly sits up. "What?"

"They're downstairs. They can tell you the rest but get your ass up now. This is serious."

Without question Hoseok stands. You watch as he looks for his house slippers and you find yourself following after him.

What did Seokjin mean that his brothers were attacked? You feel your heart racing in suspense at what could have happened. Nothing makes sense at the moment but you're quick to put on your own slippers and follow after Hoseok and Seokjin who takes the lead.

They're quick on their feet but they maintain a certain speed that you can easily follow. Whether that's a conscious decision or not you appreciate it. Hurriedly though you make your way over to the playroom where you see all the brothers together. Jimin is standing and watching Taehyung pace back and forth behind the couch. The rest are seated. Once the three of you are there though they direct their attention over to you.

"What happened?" Hoseok demands. His eyes look between Jimin and the youngest who he notices has a cut across his cheek. "What the fuck is this," he curses when he draws closer to Jungkook.

"It's a cut." Jungkook says and if it weren't for Jimin you suspect Hoseok would have a word for his brother's obvious answer.

"He can't heal it."

Everyone looks at Jimin. Even you who looks on in disbelief.

"What do you mean he can't heal it?" Hoseok asks.

Jimin shrugs. "Whatever this person used it's making it hard for Jungkook to heal his wound."

You shake your head in mild shock. "But wait. What happened?"

It's the first time in a long time that Jimin doesn't look at you like you're scum. He's about to say something but he's interrupted by the sound of a chair breaking against the floor when Taehyung grabs it and smashes it. You jump in fear and watch as Seokjin walks over to him to calm him down.

"This isn't the time." You hear him mutter. His hands are placed over Taehyung's shoulders and he inhales and exhales slowly and waits for Taehyung to follow after him. It's taking the young vampire time to calm down but he's trying.

Jimin doesn't wait for him though because he looks between you and Hoseok and answers.

"Jungkook and I were out near the strip. Things were fine one moment and the next a riot breaks out. We don't know how it started or where they came from but people started breaking car windows and storefronts. We were so absorbed with what was happening that it took us a second to realize someone tried sneaking up on us to attack Jungkook. He managed to get his face but I grabbed the guy and tossed him to the floor." He licks his lips before gritting his teeth. "We were rushed backed to the limo but not without sustaining damage. The back window is broken."

"Who gives a fuck about the window!" Taehyung yells. "Jungkook is hurt."

"It's okay." Jungkook says.

"No it's not!"

"Taehyung." Yoongi's voice is low but firm. He stands up and walks over to his brother and looks him dead in the eyes. "Give me your hand."

It looks like Taehyung wants to deny him but he ultimately doesn't. He reaches his hand out and lets Yoongi take it all the while Seokjin keeps a hold on his shoulder. The youngest of the three closes his eyes but you see the way his jaw works in anger.

"Do you have an idea of what caused the riot?" Namjoon asks.

Jimin shrugs but Jungkook answers.

"I searched online on what could have caused it while we waited for you all to get here. It's suspected that the people who did this are a part of the groups who've been starting the revolts around the area."

The rebellions. You forgot about that. Could it have been them? It makes you wonder for a moment.

"It would explain why they went straight after Jungkook then."

Your brows furrow at Namjoon's words.

You remember when it was first mentioned back at the Baek household. It was the reason why Seokjin, Jungkook, and Hoseok had come over in the first place.

These rebels have it out for noblemen. They don't like them and have been getting together to rise against the system. You find it a bit worrying. Though you've come in contact with Lords and Ladies you could do without there are kind vampires like Yoongi. You think that if it were him that was attacked you'd have a more visceral response.

"What do we do then if that's the case?" Jimin asks.

There's a moment of silence as everyone looks between each other.

"It seems like we're going to have to bring the Alliance into this."

You're actually surprised by Seokjin's words because wasn't it him that told your former Masters to let the situation go? But now that it's hitting close to home you figure he'd have a change of heart.

"And what do you think they'll do?" Jimin questions.

Once Taehyung is calm Seokjin removes his hand from his shoulder. "Well with the Baeks more than likely on our side we can convince them to put a change in the law. It'll make the rebels lose their shit but the Alliance can provide protection as well."

"Well whatever protection they can provide probably won't be enough if the rebels are using something a vampire can't naturally heal from." Jimin reminds everyone of Jungkook's wound.

The youngest looks off in the distance like he's not a part of the conversation but you figure he is listening in.

Namjoon shakes his head. "We can at least try Seokjin's way. With father's help there's no way the Alliance wouldn't listen."

How much power does their father hold you wonder. And you don't know who the Alliance are but your guess is that they're all powerful vampires. Something that surely has the rebels feeling rabid.

Hoseok scratches his head for a second before dropping his hand down by his side. He looks like he's at a loss for words but you're no better.

You look at the cut on Jungkook's face. It doesn't look that deep but still. Knowing he can't heal it on his own must mean that it might scar and he'll forever have the reminder that someone attacked him. Jungkook doesn't seem to care. You don't think he actually does because that's just who he is but you wonder if there's just the slightest bit of resentment he feels towards the attacker. You don't think you'll ever know.

"You know what this means, right?" Hoseok asks. Everyone looks at him in question. "It means we're not going out for Jimin's birthday."

Immediately he's hit with defiance.

"Oh come on!" Jimin stomps his foot as if he were a child.

"Jimin-"

"That's not fair Hoseok! I've been wanting this for so long."

"What matters more to you? A birthday party or your life?"

The short vampire sucks his teeth in irritation as Hoseok moves his hands as he talks.

"You said it yourself. The Alliance might not be able to protect us properly knowing these people have something that can harm us. How will we fair by ourselves? Hm?"

"And that means we should live our lives in fear?"

"That's not what I said, Jimin."

"Well you might as well say it!"

Hoseok rubs his temple as if he were getting a headache. "Anyone else willing to give their two cents on this?"

You look at each of the brothers who choose to stay quiet. Even the anger seems to have been quelled within Taehyung. No one wants to say a word and you sure as hell won't. Not if you want to keep the peace between you, Hoseok, and Jimin.

Just as you think no one else will say a word Yoongi does.

"Let him have his party."

Hoseok's head snaps towards the quiet vampire and he looks on in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"

Yoongi's hand is still held in Taehyung's as he goes to lean against the back of the couch. He shrugs his shoulders without a care to how it makes his brother feel. "We'll keep our eyes out but let's not make the rebels feel like they're winning."

Hoseok goes back to rubbing his temple and it looks like he wants to fight back but he huffs. "Whatever. Have your party. See if I care." He turns around and grabs your hand so you two can leave.

"So what? Does that mean you're not going?" Jimin questions angrily.

"I didn't say I'm not going even though it's a stupid idea."

Jimin hollows his cheeks and bites down as anger flares within him.

"Enough fighting. We should be supporting each other right now."

Seokjin is right but you still remain quiet.

"I guess I'll be making the call to father unless someone else wants to do it." Namjoon looks around but no one makes the effort to raise their hand so he hums. "I'll get right to that then."

He stands and passes by you and Hoseok. He doesn't look your way and you suspect that if things weren't serious right now he would have done something to piss you off. Unless he's over it and doesn't care to mess with you. You don't know what hurts more him toying with you for so long or him making it clear that he never gave a shit about you. Just thinking about it makes your heart ache so you decide to ignore the pain by holding on to Hoseok's hand even tighter. You need to ground yourself to avoid getting lost in your emotions and if that means you have to use Hoseok then you will.

Hoseok squeezes your hand back before taking you out of the room.

Conversation picks up again after you two leave but it sounds to be a little more lighthearted. It doesn't change the fact that your mind is buzzing with the fact that what happened with Jimin and Jungkook actually happened. Just the idea of it makes you feel a little anxious.

You remember the day you went out with Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin. You remember how that one guy flipped out and threw his drink at you guys. To think something much worse was going to happen some time later into the future. You doubt that all that guy wanted to do is hurt Jungkook. Either he failed in completing his job or he was sending a message. Either way you received the warning and it has everyone on edge.

When you get back to Hoseok's room he sighs. You look at him and he looks drained.

"Hey," you say. "You okay?"

He looks at you for a moment before drawing you in close to him. "Yeah. I just... I'm worried. First the stalking and now this. I'm losing my mind right now."

"I figured." You wrap your arms around him. "That was a lot to take in."

Drawing his eyes closed in frustration he rants. "Why can't Jimin just think for once? Jungkook got hurt and by a weapon we don't know about." He looks off towards the side. "He can have his party here if he wants but no he wants it at a stupid club he wouldn't shut up about."

You know what he's talking about. It was through a brief conversation you and Hoseok had a few days ago. Jimin has been going out of his way to let everyone he knows know he would be celebrating his birthday at an underground club. Now that you think about it you think maybe him letting everyone know where he was going to be for his birthday wasn't a good idea. But you don't mention that to Hoseok otherwise he might storm back down and fight with Jimin over it. Not that you necessarily care about the two fighting but you just don't want to deal with the hassle of being dragged back and forth.

Hoseok looks at you and he does so with a look you'd describe as heart wrenching if it actually did anything for you.

"And I don't know why Yoongi was on Jimin's side. Out of all of us he's the one who actually thinks things through and Jimin would have gone with what I said if only Yoongi had agreed with me."

You purse your lips and wait until he's done with his rant. "If I knew how to make things better for you I would."

To this his expression softens and he looks at you with love. "I know, baby."

You rub his back comfortingly.

The rest of the night you spend together alone again. Hoseok doesn't bring up the situation anymore but you know it's bothering him. You try your best to keep him calm and it works for the most part. Sometimes he sighs like he's tired and you scratch his head to soothe him. When eating it's no different. You just rub his hand soothingly and distract him with food.

As it gets later into the night when about this time you get ready for bed you check your phone. Hoseok is in the bathroom so you take the chance and see you received a message from Yoongi. It was hours ago that he sent this.

Yoongi: Did you get in contact with Minjeong?

Yoongi: I have an idea of when you can leave.

You sit up in bed with your heart racing a bit. Quickly you type out a message.

You: I did. She gave me the numbers for two rehab centers. They want to talk to me but I haven't been able to because I've been stuck with Hoseok.

You: But tell me. What do you have planned?

You bite your lip nervously as you wait for a reply.

You weren't expecting this at all and your brain is going through scenarios on how you'll be able to leave. None make sense nor do you see working out so you wait with bated breath on what the answer might be.

Yoongi: Jimin's birthday party. Many of us are going to be back and forth in preparation for the party Hoseok included. He may be upset with Jimin right now but he'll be willing to help his brother out especially since this is the first time the party will be planned out by all of us. That's what makes this day more special to Jimin.

Yoongi: I want you to fake being sick though.

You frown.

You're about to ask him how this will work in your favor but you stop when Hoseok calls out to you.

"Baby~" he croons.

You look up to see him come out of the bathroom with a face mask on.

"What," you ask.

He smiles as much as he can beneath the wet cloth and waves around a packet. "Go wash your face. I want to put this on you." He walks over and tosses the packet with a face mask inside on your lap. "Let's have some self-care time with each other."

Oh. You weren't expecting that.

You want to deny him and continue texting Yoongi but you know you don't have an option right now. Especially if you want to keep playing nice with Hoseok. So you nod with a small "Okay" before locking your phone and lying it down on your nightstand.

You hope he won't check it. You're never aware of when he does it but you know he does. Maybe more so before when you were always against him.

You stand up and go do as he says and hope he won't invade your privacy tonight.

You're quick when you wash your face with your mind still stuck on Yoongi's message. How will you fake being sick help in your escape? It's a question only he can answer.

Coming out of the bathroom you see Hoseok is on his phone. You do a double take to make sure it isn't yours but you see that your phone is still where you left it.

He doesn't acknowledge your presence. Instead he looks annoyed. You can see the way the mask creases between his brows. You're careful as you make your way over to sit on the bed and it's only then does he look at you. He directs the look of annoyance towards you and it makes you frown.

"You okay," you ask tentatively.

He purses his lips as he looks at you before he gives a barely there smile.

"You've been very good for me haven't you?"

You have a mild look of surprise on but you nod.

Hoseok leans up and stretches out his hand for you to grab. You're hesitant to take it but when you do he pulls you forward and helps you lie down. Your head rests against your pillow and you watch as he takes apart the packet to take the mask out. He doesn't say anything but you still see the way he looks annoyed. Not so much as before but it's still there.

The mask is cool against your skin when he puts it on. He takes the time to stretch it across your face so that it covers every inch of skin. When he's done he stands to throw away the empty packet and returns to you though this time he seems to be in better spirits.

That's weird. You're used to never getting a read on Hoseok so seeing him looking the way he does and the way it switches quickly into something else is new to you. Just the thought of it makes your fingers twiddle together in nervousness.

Hoseok comes back to lie down next to you. He's perched on his arm with a hand supporting his head. "I usually let the mask sit for more than the required time so we'll be like this for a little while."

You shrug. "That's okay."

He smiles as much as he can beneath the mask before grabbing your hands. "Why do you look so nervous, baby?"

His thumb soothes over the back of your hand as he pries them apart.

You shrug again. "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me." He doesn't sound threatening but you can't help but to feel a little threatened.

"It's just... you seemed upset with me for a second there."

His brows draw together as if he's thinking on what you meant before his lips part to give a small "Ah" in response.

"I wasn't upset with you," he says. He shakes his head a little. "Namjoon has been bothering me for a bit with some stupid shit. He dragged Seokjin into it and now he won't shut up about it either."

Your hands are about to worry between each other again but his hand keeps you from doing it.

What could the two of them be bothering Hoseok about? You worry it has something to do with you.

"Is it something bad," you question.

There's a moment of silence. It does something to your nerves but he says nothing before smiling down at you.

"It's nothing for you to worry about."

You don't feel comforted by his words. It just felt like he was deflecting. Clearly it's something bad that it's annoying him this much. You don't know what it could be. You don't trust Namjoon nor Seokjin. Especially the former. Weeks ago when you all shared the dining table you suspected that Seokjin might be in the know about you and Namjoon. You wouldn't be surprised but it worries you because if he's letting Seokjin know then it's only a matter of time before Hoseok does. Your safety is hanging in the balance. It won't matter what Yoongi's plan is because once Hoseok knows it's over for you.

Leaning back to grab his phone Hoseok checks the time. "It's late but do you want to watch some TV while we wait on the masks?"

Trying to ignore the feeling of nervousness you nod your head.

He doesn't say anything more on the matter of his brothers so you try not to think about it yourself. It's not worth getting sick over if he's not worried about it. You think you'll know once Hoseok does so for now you'll keep acting like nothing happened between you and Namjoon.

The TV comes to life and Hoseok lets you choose what to watch. You settle on something you know he likes and let yourself relax in bed next to him.

You think again on Yoongi's message to you. You're still stuck on how you faking being sick is going to help you out. You would love to see what else he had to say but you're going to have to wait until Hoseok is knocked out for you to be able to read his message.

You also need to get in contact with the rehab centers. If it weren't because you were always stuck with Hoseok you would have spoken to them. Working on trust with Hoseok means you've given up your time for him. You're wondering when he'll trust you enough to leave you alone. You hope that it's soon.

When the time is up for your masks Hoseok lets you know. He removes them and goes to toss them out in the bathroom trash. Coming out of the bathroom he stretches with a yawn you can't help but to mimic. He smiles when you do and hops into bed.

"Are you tired," he asks.

To be honest you're not but you yawned because of how contagious it is. He chuckles when you say this and hands you the remote.

"You can keep the TV on if you want but I'm going to try and sleep."

"Okay."

He leans in to kiss you long and soft before turning off the bedside lamp and curling up behind you. His arm wraps around your middle as you turn on your side to let him hold you close.

You lower the volume on the TV but you don't dare move for your phone. You have to be sure that he's asleep before you do.

Shows come and go as it takes some time before you hear the soft snores come from Hoseok. You crane your head back to get a good look at him and see he's relaxed. Just to be sure you call out his name softly but he doesn't react. Without a second to waste you grab your phone and search for Yoongi's message. You see that he's written more and pick up where you left off.

Yoongi: I want you to fake being sick though.

Yoongi: If you do we might be able to have Hoseok leave you home alone for a moment while everyone is gone for the time being. I'll stay behind though with my own excuse. It's a flimsy plan but I don't know when we'll have a chance like this again.

Yoongi: I'll need you to get in contact with Minjeong to let her know that way she can send someone over to meet up with us. Tell her it's for Jimin's birthday but to send someone early on in the day that way we can meet before the actual party starts.

To be honest you're not a fan of the plan. Like he said it's too flimsy. This might not work at all but he's right. When are you going to have a moment like this again? People will be in and out in preparation for Jimin's party including Hoseok. That's your chance to leave. But you still have questions.

You: But what are you going to do? What's your excuse going to be? Won't Jimin expect you to go too? And do you actually think Hoseok will believe I'm sick?

You: It's not that I don't trust you but you said it yourself. This plan is flimsy.

You: I'm scared Yoongi...

You watch and wait to see the three dots pop up on screen. You think they might not come but Yoongi proves you wrong. He's still awake and types back to you.

Yoongi: We can always try another time if you don't think this will work but just remember that I'm not sure when an opportunity like this will come again.

You close your eyes in defeat. He's right. Who knows when the time will come again for you to be able to escape. You honestly want to cry but you keep it together. You have to unless you want to wake Hoseok up.

Opening your eyes you take a shaky breath and type out your response.

You: Okay. You're right. Let's do this.

Yoongi: Write to Minjeong. We only have 3 more days to go.

With a sigh you leave the message at that and switch over to Minjeong's contact information. You start a new chat and write to her about everything Yoongi told you. You doubt that she's awake so you don't expect a response tonight.

You feel bad. Maybe it's because so much is happening at once. The stalking, the riots, Jimin and Jungkook's attack, the escape plan - it's too much. But if Yoongi thinks this is the best course of action then you'll take it.

You look back at Hoseok who's sound asleep. He looks peaceful despite everything. Despite whatever it is Seokjin and Namjoon are going on about and whatever that is you wonder if you want to know or not. You just hope that it doesn't put a wrench in yours and Yoongi's plan.

For these next three days you better put your work to the test. You've laid down the foundation of your supposed love for Hoseok and now it's time to test it. Will he show trust in you? Will it be enough to leave you alone? Well you guess you're about to find out.

[s-aint-elmo]

EXCUSE ME MA'AM. MA'AM. DROP THE MADOKA STEP MOM OF THE CLARA DOLLS MA'AM. I MAY DIE.

(also maybe some madoka magica fic rec 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 but who am I to say)

omg this was so long ago..... mea culpa anon

anyway step-momdoka fic is this: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37645735/chapters/94265512 (it's an anthology fic, so the ones following the storyline are those labelled "familiarity")

and madomagi top seven fics that make me lose control in no particular order:

The Witching Hour (70K words) - homura starts a podcast. her odds for success, shockingly, skyrocket

Colours Fading (25K words) - madomagi soulmate au oneshot + the sequel fic exploring timeline 28, where the holy quintet are all soulmates (bonus fic rec the soulmate timeline, inspired by timeline 28 and currently ongoing)

Five Times Sburb Almost Broke Sakura Kyouko (And One Time She Helped Break It) (21K words) - homestuck au if that's your jam. tbh just so good even if it isn't, madoka's classpect reveal was sick as hell

Garden of Earthly Delights (72K words) - canon-compliant daemon au

The Garden of My Heart (300K words) - post-rebellion duology ft. akemi homura's profound unkindness to herself and the consequences of giving a 14-yo lesbian the power to reshape the world

Impossible Colours (1K words) - homura is red/green colourblind

A Red Umbrella (8K words) - homura is really, really dense (the author has another fic called "but i don't want to be a chuunibyo" wherein post-rebellion madoka is constantly assailed by weird cosplayers who think she's god which is such a fun premise but has not updated in years so i didn't rec it in full)

[f1uff3rnutt3r]

Yo, it's all about the glove DAWG😎. Glover is this SICK NASTY💯💯💯 Nintendo 64 game where you play as this little gloved dude who uses his magic glove to solve all sorts of puzzles. You gotta swing🙉, jump🙊, and bounce🙈 your way through this 🔥🔥🔥FUNKY WORLD🔥🔥🔥 DUDE!!!11!! The puzzles can get pretty tricky at times, but that's what makes it all the more fun. Let's not forget about the soundtrack, either, it's got jams for days!

🔥🔥🔥SUBSCR1B3 T0D4Y 4T LIMPLEGSAKIMBO.TUMBLR.COM🔥🔥🔥 F0R M0R3 R4D1C4L G4M3 SUGG3ST1ONS

❤️❤️❤️😍🥵💦💦💦4ND PUPP3T P0RN F0R D4YS!!!!!💦💦💦🥵😍❤️❤️❤️

[companionwolf]

you're a stranger taking someone else's place

where have i heard that one before?

don't be afraid to leave a trace

and lead the way; you're not in Dallas anymore

[joodeeboochoo]

Yo JBC fam! 🤙 Check it out, we got Doctor Alex dropping some sick ASMR vibes with those medical glove sounds! 🩺💫 Get ready for a chill sesh filled with smooth, cool, and crinkly glove sounds that'll totally relax you bro! 🧤😌 If you're all about those glove sounds, this session's gonna be your jam!! 🎶✨ Thanks for tuning in! Don't forget to smash that like button and keep the good vibes rolling! 🙌👍

[xx-dark-dart-xx]

I got yo' 26 large, bitch. Don't be sweatin' or nuthin'. Next time I be rollin' up next to you, I be givin' you yo' scratch. Much respect fo' handlin' yo' bizness. I be makin' you some fly, dope, off tha hook muthafuckas that be blowin' yo' hair back BIG TIME. The mad, monsta jams I be sendin' will butter yo' whitebread two times. YOU tell ME how much FUCKIN' you want to be doin' with tha missez, and I be givin' you THAT MUCH muse sick, because my mixes be known to melt ladies' PANTIES and shit. So don't sweat it little homey. To me, life ain't nuthin' but a turkey leg on a pidgeon wing. Give props to the shorties.

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 68

It always concerns me when the plug starts without any obvious gimmick ... Matt: "There it is." Ah yes ... it's gonna be about D&D monsterfucking isn't it? Oh dear ... and he's roped Liam into this too ... "I'm confused, is this what you think romance is?" Honestly, I think we're ALL concerned about what SAM RIEGEL thinks romance is ...

Liam: "I'm getting Death To Smoochy vibes over here!"

Holy shit! Robbie got an action figure! Dorian! Sweet!

Oh yeah, the sexy demon paladin ... XD

Preparing for rest in the cave, then. The Butcher's Bib? Oh gods ... what is Chetney planning here? And Imogen's fallen in the Hole ...

Ah, spoils ... so what IS the thing with this sword, then? Graz'tchar, the Luminary Blade? Hmmmmm ... oh, yeah, I'm totally not buying this shit for a second ... I bet it's really evil. Matt is DEFINITELY giving Travis another cursed sword ...

"Romance the sword! Romance the sword!" XD

Six inches wide on a 3 foot blade? This thing's like a fucking ANIME sword, isn't it?

And now FCG is attacking Chetney ON REQUEST ... Sam rolls a 1, just jams it in the CEILING. Yup ...

Ashton doesn't trust it. Ashton is all of us, clearly ... now it's offering HIM a bond? Okay ... the Council of Tal'dorei? Hmmmm ... yeah, he's just WEIRDED OUT and I don't blame him ...

The sword is now reeling off a story of its previous wielders ... and Ashton's commentary is very amusing ...

FCG casts Legend Lore? Ooooooooh ... "the Light is false"? Oh, okay then ... yeah, definitely a cursed sword! And FCG keeps it yo themselves. "Here you go Chetney!" Oh boy, here we go ...

NOW he's trying to convince Chetney NOT to trust the sword? AFTER giving it back?

Laura: "Chetney would totally fall for an Internet scam!"

Chetney: "It's just a sword, if it turns out to be evil we can just throw it in a lake and let someone else deal with it."

Romantic smut fiction action for Fearne, courtesy of Sam's flask ... ye gods ... LOL

Orym (to Baernie): "So this is the crew I run with now." XD

Making plans for getting back in the morning. Hmmmm ...

Ashton: "Chet, you get the least bit weird, I'm gonna crush your hand." Chetney: "Define weird." Ashton: "No."

Everything's gone red after they go to bed! Not good! Not good!

And now Imogen's having another storm dream ... great ... and now her mother's telling her to run! Definitely not good! Wisdom save ... Nat20! Nice!

Going to check out calm spots in the red stormscape ... herds of beasts running through valleys? "There's an ecology here ..." Whoa ... a presence behind her? It's her mother ...

She REALLY IS freeing Predathos ... Lillianna: "You deserve to be free." Imogen: "But at what cost?"

And she's BOOTED out of the dream ...

FCG communes with the Changebringer in their sleep? Or a spell? Hmmmmmm ... "Are you scared?" She is ... oh boy ... FCG: "Okay ... I'm coming."

Everybody completes a long rest. "YAY!!!" XD

Is Chetney dead? Has he DIED in the night? He has to ROLL to check? Oh boy ... yeah, he's still with us ...

He's calling the sword Char. Cute. Snd now he's attuned to it ... yeah ...

Heading out, then ... ah crap, there's a few demons scattered around. Time for stealth, then ... oh yeah, Pass Without A Trace! Good job, Fearne ...

Imogen remembering the dream ... and she's sick of it. She just wants it to go away, so she's on the side of the gods, looks like.

Once again, all signs are pointing for them to go to the moon ...

Now it's "Sir Chad"? Oh boy ...

Oh shit, it's heard of Ludinus ... crap ... it didn't trust him? Hmmmm ... the Matron of Ravens? Obviously it knows HER ...

Group Stealth Check ... here we go ... oh wow, Laura manages to roll a 1? Oof ...

Aha! A suitable tree, then ... time for teleport, then ... what, put folk in the Hole and then EVERYBODY goes at once? Seriously?

Oh wow, they're actually doing it ...

And now there are creatures coming ... everybody on the Hole! Now TELEPORT!!!

"Soaking"? Seriously?

Oh thank fuck that worked ... okay! Let them out of the Hole! Phew ...

FCG says hello to Scuffy ...

Leeta's deeply relieved to see Baernie alive ... yup, that's nice. :3

Nel? Oh, hello ... such a sweet reunion! D'awwwwww ...

Fixing up the cure ... here we go ... and they go heal her! Okay ... just in time, then ...

Ooooooh ... and it's WORKING!!! YAY!!! Yes, Keyleth is getting BETTER!!!

Yeah! Voice of the Tempest is BACK, baby! Oh nice! She is full on MENDED!!!

Kiki thanks Orym snd OH MY GODS this so clearly means THE WORLD to him right now. Oops ... okay, she's still not ALL the way back, but on the way, definitely.

Imogen Prestidigitates Keyleth's hair so she doesn't have bedhead any more. :3

Oh sweet! The Mantle! I love it ...

Yeah, I agree. Nice to have a win ...

Oh man ... Orym's being offered a chance to JOIN Keyleth on the balcony! Sweet! And he's being LAUDED!!! Oh my gods that's so awesome!

Oh yeah, Orym's like TOTALLY a hero to his people now. "Kaitiake!" YES!!! So cool!

Nice, time for a party! Yay!

Oh, they're meeting with the Voice NOW?!!! Okay then ...

Time for a break? Okay. Seems the smart time.

Sweet, Chapter 2 of Candela Obscura looks equally cool ...

And we're back ... so, the meeting! Here we go ...

Time to watch Marisha especially closely as this gets ever more meta for her ... XD

Ludinus went to the Dwendallian Empire? Hmmmmm ... grrrr, the Cerberus Assembly ... great, JUST what we need ...

Oh boy ... Orym's gonna tell her about Vax screaming in the Orb, isn't he? Crap ... yeah, he is ... oh fuck, here we go ...

The raven's perch? It's empty ... oh man! Tears! Tears, I swear ...

Yeah, she's got BEEF with the Matron. That's only fair ...

Oh wow, Fearne fawning over the demon paladin is just weirding Keyleth out, isn't it?

Imogen: "There's people on Ruidus!" Wow, she just blurted that right out there ...

Oh, okay ... Imogen Summons her Crimson Shade. Yeah ... oh, that's a lot more intense than last time ...

Whoa ... crazy muscular red shark man! That's just MENTAL ...

Yeah, Keyleth is FREAKED and it makes sense ...

And now Imogen's communicating with it ... it wants to SERVE HER "until her Binding is done"? Okay ...

A vision of a pale grey flower with a gem in it ... that's its NAME? Hmmmmm ...

Oh snap ... is this something they want or not? Hmmmm ...

Predathos is the PROGENITOR?!!! What the actual ...?

Wow, and now it's just GONE ... oh, and turns out Keyleth was totally ready to KICK OFF ...

Ah, so they want something MORE out of their lives, then ... that's ... interesting ...

Yeah, no shit Keyleth's been through this kinda shit before ...

Okay, so potential allies ... ooh, is she thinking about calling in the rest of Vox Machina? Yeah, that would be cool ...

Who else COULD they call on?

The Hishari? Here we go ... and Ashton mentions his origins ... yup ... oh okay, are we getting proper Ashton origin story revelations now? Go, Kiki!

Ooooh, this is gonna be good ...

Ashton is of TITAN BLOOD?!!! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!!!

Whoa ... seriously, this is some QUALITY fresh infodumping ...

Keyleth: "The fact that you're standing here and functioning is a testament to your willpower." Yeah, no shit ...

So it looks like Ashton might basically have been the end result of what the Hishari were trying to do ...

The Shattered Teeth? Whoa ...

Keyleth admires FCG's optimism. :3

Marisha and her ridiculously convoluted notes strike again and its beautiful ... XD

Yes, the Gau Drashari ...

Yeah, the gods might well be a prickly issue with the Primordials ...

Ashton talked to an Earth Elemental ... oh yeah ... and Keyleth just nods knowingly ...

Wait ... Keyleth went to the Shattered Teeth once? Oh, I see ... when she was trying to free Vax from his debt? Hmmmm ...

Jirana? "Like a therapist"? Hmmmm ...

XD Travis trawling for a MAP of the Shattered Teeth ... oh, so they MOVE?!!! Hmmm ...

Showing Keyleth the Harness and Funnel and all of Ludinus' notes ... wait, so he's using this to MIMIC Keyleth's extended life thing? That's fucked up ...

"The Root" is at the base of the neck? Hmmmm ...

Ragging on Marisha's note taking ... XD

Sweet, the Whispered One ... yeah, Vecna gets a namedrop ...

Fuck ... hearing that name gives Laudna a VERY SPECIFIC chill ... O.O

Yeah, honestly it doesn't really make sense to think that Ludinus would actually be SEEKING godhood given what he's actually DOING ...

No, I don't think giving in would be a good idea, Imogen. PLEASE don't do that ...

Sweet, digging away at Percy, I love it ... XD

FCG tries to Scry on D. Okay ... somewhere on a coast ... the Menagerie Coast? Cool.

What, try Dancer instead? Hmmmm ... nor sure that's actually gonna work out too well ...

So he's gonna try it anyway, like a glutton for punishment ...

There she is ... just asleep on a random room ... no help AT ALL ...

FCG's gonna try asking the Changebringer who would be the better choice to help them out ... okay ...

The one they're "most bound to"? Well that's not very helpful at all ...

Trying again then ... oh this is ridiculous and we love it ...

Matt can't get past the idea that it's going through Sam's "arse mike" ... LOL

More vagueness ... oof ... yeah, Sam is just BURNING spell slots trying to get this to work ... yup, once again it's a total bust ...

Keyleth: "I'll tell you a story about a goldfish one day." OH MY GODS!!! LOL

Yeah, she needs a break, anyway. Best call it a day.

Keyleth tries to help Orym find a little peace and chill ... it's really quite sweet. "I see a bravery in you that matches the immensity of your heart." :3 This is just so adorable ... gods, she is being SO KIND AND COMFORTING TO HIM AND IT'S MAKING ME TEAR UP ...

Yeah, she needs a rest. Time to go, guys.

"Saviour Blade"? Sweet ...

Oh yes, tattoos could be cool ...

Demon concubine, maybe? I like that one ... XD

Yes. Good place to call it a night, Matt. Nice chill place to move on for next time ...

[salanaii]

Learn Korean with me - Week 4/Day 1

Day 1: Colors, Vocab 1 - 100, Udemy Lesson 6

콧물 = snot

땀 = sweat

목 = neck

마스크 = mask

착용하다 = to wear

황사 = yellow sand

목감기 = sore throat

환자 = patient

근처 = neighborhood / around here

약국 = pharmacy

외국인등록번호 = foreign registration number

잠시만 = moment

불편하다 = to be uncomfortable

열이 나다 = to have a fever

약 = medicine

Key -  열쇠 -  yeol soe

Chicken -  다ᇍ -  dalk

Baby -  아기 -  a gi

Princeton -  프린스턴-  pew rin seu teon

Last name -  성 -  seong

Jihun -  지훈 -  ji hun

Park (name) -  박 -  bak

Seonhwa -  선화 -  seon hwa

Minji -  민지 -  min ji

Kim -  김 -  gim

Garam -  가람 -  ga ram

Seoyeon -  서연 -  seo yeon

Seojun -  서준 -  seo jun

Choi – 최 -  choe

Bed – 침대 -  chim dae

This side – 이편 -  I pyeon

That side – 그편 -  geu pyeon

That side over there -  저편 -  jeo pyeon

This much -  이 만큼 -  I man keum

That much -  그 만큼 -  geu man keum

Be careful/watch out -  조심해요 -  jo sim hae yo

Take your time/ take time to / slowly -  천천히하세요 -  cheon chein hi ha se yo

Focus -  집중하다 -  jib jung ha da

Sir/miss/customer -  손님- son nim

Learn -  배우다 -  bae u da

More/much -  더 -  deo

Fewer/less -  덜 -  deul

Watch/ look / see – 보다 -  bo da

Again -  다시 -  da si

Worry -  걱정하다 -  geog Jeong ha da

Touch (positive) – 만지다 -  man ji da

Touch (negative) – 만지지 -  man ji ji

Too much – 너무 -  neo mu

Much/many – 많이 -  manh l

Cucumber -  오이 -  o i

Fox – 여우 – yeo u

Yo-yo – 요요 -  yo yo

Taste/flavor -  맛 – mas

Entrance – 입구 -  ib gu

Oh – 어 -  eo

Kind/friendly – 친절한 – chin jeol han

Lazy – 게으른- gee u reun

Happy – 행복하다- haeng bok ha da

Sad – 슬퍼- seul peo

Sick – 아픈- a peun

Boring – 지루한- ji ru han

Glad – 기쁜 -  gi ppeun

Tired – 피곤한 – pi gon han

Camera – 카메라 – ka me ra

Building – 건물- geun mul

That (over there) – 저/저것 – jeo/jeo geos

I/self – 저 – jeo

Desk – 책상 – chaeg sang

These – 이 것 -  I geos

That – 그 – geu

Those – 그것 – geu heos

This – 이 -  i

Monitor – 모니터 – mo ni teo

Bathroom – 화장실 -  hwa jang sil

Restaurant – 식당 – sig dang

That way – 그 쪽 – geu jjog

Here/ over here – 여기 – yeo gi

There – 거기 – geo gi

Over there -  저 기 – jeo gi

Tree – 니무 -  na mu

Bag – 가 방 -  ga bang

Sleep – 잠 – jam

Expensive – 비싼 – bi ssan

Slow – 느린 – neu rin

Fast – 빠른 – bba reun

Cold – 추운 – chu un

Cheap – 싼 – ssan

Hot (verb) – 뜨겁게 – tteu geob ge

Hot (adjective) – 뜨거운 – tteu geo un

Tall – 높 – nop

Wide/spacious – 넓은 – neolb eun

Low – 낮은 – naj eun

Small/narrow – 좁은 – jub eun

Cute – 귀여운 – gwi yeo un

Pretty – 예쁜 – ye ppeun

Fat (Duolingo)(Papago) – 뚱뚱 – ttung ttung

Fat (Google) – 찌 빵 – ji bang

Beautiful – 아름다운 – a leum da un

Clean – 깨끗한 – ggae kkeus han

Dirty – 더러운 – deo leo un