#sound off in the comments below if you know what 5 bells means

[demonbarberofbeepbeep]

shes like "ugh i guess i'll seduce him ugh ugh yuck yuck yuck"

and hes like "wow i can't wait to get my hair pomaded. anyway back to the bells of bray"

[just-a-really-tall-girl-tbh]

Grounded

Summary: Y/n is kidnapped and forced to reveal secrets of the pack

Pairing: Derek X Reader

Warnings: Blood, torture, swearing

Word count: 2605

Original piece please don’t copy

The school bell rang for the final time that day, a collective sigh of gratitude echoed in the room, the teenagers grateful to be released from the maths teacher’s class. Gathering your books, you stacked them in a neat pile before exiting the room, offering a small smile to your defeated teacher. It wasn’t her fault maths sucked and no one enjoyed it, you did feel bad for her on some level but also who the hell would willingly dedicate their life to teaching numbers?

Entering the hallway, you made your way through the sea of teenagers, everyone desperate to go home for the weekend. Reaching your locker, you grabbed the couple books you needed, shoving them into your backpack, thinking about the homework you had due on Monday you sighed. The door to your locker slammed shut before you could close it.

“Hey, you ready?” Stiles smiled.

“I told you I can walk home.” You rolled your eyes, walking away from the boy. Surprised by your quick movement, Stiles jogged to catch up to you, throwing an arm lazily around your shoulders.

“I know you can walk home but why would you when you have me?”

Exiting the main doors of the high school, you welcomed the fresh warm air, the smell of angsty teens left behind you. Reaching the end of the pavement, you saw the jeep parked a few cars away.

“Stiles I want to walk.” You turned to face the boy.

“Y/n, you heard what Derek said okay? All these recent attacks? The break ins and thefts? He doesn’t want you alone.” Stiles tried to reason with you. Knowing the recent spike in criminal activity was less than likely to involve the supernatural, you felt safe walking the 20-minute trip home. In fact, you enjoyed the peace it brought you. Half of the walk was through the woods, a quiet haven from the busy high school, and being autumn, you relished in the yellow and orange leaves that swept through the small woodlands.

“Stiles. It’s 20 minutes. I’ll text you when I get home okay?” Stiles sighed.

“You know Derek is going to kill me if I let you, you know, that right? You like the idea of alive Stiles because I do! And I am not letting you be the reason I don’t make it to my 20’s okay?”

“Derek doesn’t have the balls to kill you.” You turned on the heel of your foot, headed towards the woods, leaving a defeated Stiles in your wake.

“I’m telling Derek you said he has no balls!” He called after you. You let out a small laugh, grabbing your headphones from your backpack, and your phone from your pocket, you scrolled through your playlist, deciding today was the perfect day for (Your current favourite song).

Entering the woods, you felt a rush of calm wash over you, the stressful week was pushed to the back of your mind, your thoughts centred on the surrounding woods. You stepped over exposed roots and around large bushes, glancing up at the sky you watched as the wind swept through the foliage, the ageing leaves dancing in the light breeze. The sun peaked through the cracks, determined to reach the forest floor, providing the perfect amount of light for your stroll. The floor of the woods had been coated in fallen leaves, leaving a blanket of red and orange below your feet. Taking a moment to stop and appreciate the tranquillity the forest provided you, you felt your phone buzz in you pocket.

Home yet? I’m this close to sending out a search party!

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head you began typing a response.

You need to…

Before you could finish you felt a knock to your head, your vision distorted, the soft sound of music playing through your headphones which were now next to you on the forest floor, was the only thing you could hear before everything went black.

***

Another blow straight to your stomach knocked the wind out of you. Coughing and spluttering you attempted to regain your breath, each inspiration hurting more than the last.

“Oh, you are so going to regret that.” You mumbled.

Leaning to the side of the chair you spat a mixture of saliva and blood to the ground, you couldn’t tell where the source of the blood was coming from, maybe your lip, or maybe the inside of your mouth. Too many lacerations to your face meant it all blended into one.

You raised your eyes to meet your rival, struggling to see through the blood you saw one man wiping his fists on an old rag, your blood coating his knuckles. He faced a woman to your left, who sat with one bent knee up on a bench. Her back leaning against the wall adjacent to you, a smug grin on her face.

You rotated your wrists which were bound behind you, the thick rope digging into your skin. Your ankles were bound too, tied to the legs of the wooden chair you sat on.

“You’re going to tell us what we want sweetie, its just a matter of how beat up that pretty face is going to be before you tell us.” The woman commented, as she played with her fingernails, pushing the cuticles back. If she was trying to look disinterested, she was doing a great job. But you were ready for this. You trained for this. You knew what was coming, and if it meant keeping your friends, the pack, safe, then you would gladly take whatever they threw at you.

The mans fist connected with your jaw once more, snapping you out of your daze. The room began to spin around you, and your vision blurred. Trying to recenter yourself you pulled at your wrists, the pain of the rope grinding into your skin giving you something to focus on.

“Alright careful there, big guy, we need her conscious if we’re going to get that information.” The woman stood from her seat, striding slowly over to you, before bending at the waist in front of you. She reached out to grab your face, but as soon as her fingers made contact with your skin you pulled away. A stern look, on your face made the woman let out a small laugh.

“You’re a tough one aren’t you.” She turned her head, almost admiring your battered body before her. “Too bad that doesn’t mean shit around here.” Grabbing your hair, she yanked your head back, exposing your neck to the room. Moving to stand behind you she held out her other hand, gesturing towards the man in front of you. Without a word exchanged, the man grabbed a knife from a nearby table, its blade glinting in the moonlight the small window above you allowed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea who you are dealing with do you?” The woman whispered in your ear, her grip on your hair only tightening as she neared the knife to your throat. You felt the cold edge, lightly cross your neck, not enough to pierce the skin, but enough for you to avoid swallowing.

Taking a deep breath in you closed your eyes. Grounding yourself was apart of your training, something that was drilled into you from the beginning. Breathing in again, you picked up on the different smells the room produced, sweat from the man in front of you, poorly masked by his cheap cologne. The sweet smell of the woman’s hair from behind, her locks dangling beside your face. The overwhelming metallic smell of blood being the most potent. You changed your focus to your heartbeat. Feeling it pounding against your chest begging to be released you pictured your heart slowing, its contractions reducing with every breath you took. Steadying your breathing was next. Cautious of the blade still connected to your neck you breathed in through your nose, holding in for a few seconds before releasing softly through your mouth. Repeating those steps, you were able to regain some stability. You were still in the same crappy scenario but at least now you were calmer. A panicking person is an interrogators wet dream. A calm person, their nightmare.

Sensing your self-control increase, the woman let go of your hair, moving the knife from your neck to the table beside the man. Standing before you once more, she knelt in front of you, keeping one knee up for balance, she waited for your eyes to open once more. Regaining the control, you almost lost, you felt strong enough to open your eyes once more. Staring at you the woman barely moved, she was searching your eyes for something, her expression a mixture of shock and impressed.

“You’re not afraid.” Her words barely above a whisper. Your only response was a return glare. A small smile creeping on to the face of your kidnapper. “They trained you well.”

Standing, she turned to the man behind her, whispering something in his ear before turning back to face you, her arms crossed against her chest. The man dropped the rag he was still holding and left the room, the sound of the door locking behind him.

“Let’s cut the bullshit honey. You have information I need. And I know I’m not going to break you, not by torturing you anyways. So, let’s try something else, shall we?” The woman began to pace back and forth in front of you, the small room only allowing her a few steps before being forced to turn around again. Your eyes followed her, left and right, before she stopped in front of you once more, still facing forward.

Taking in a sharp breath, she spoke. “How’s your sister doing?” She turned to face you. Refusing to let her know she was finally making some progress with you, you remained staring at her. Resuming her pacing she continued speaking.

“She’s what 5 now? Gosh so young. But you know what they say right? They grow up so fast.” Your eyes tracked the woman, more intently than before. This woman knew your family. Something that was always off limits when the pack was involved. Your attempts at shielding them from the supernatural had been successful, keeping that part of your life private even from Derek. And here this woman stood, threatening them. Threating to take away your motivation to make the world safer. Unfazed by your lack of reaction the woman carried on.

“Soon enough she’ll be going to high school, making friends, maybe even realising who her sister really is.” She stopped before you once more, bending at the waist she placed her hands on the arms of the chair you were bound to. “You didn’t think you could protect them, forever did you?” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. No amount of calm breathing could ground you now. “Aw babe.” Her hand raised to your cheek, ready to wipe away the falling tear. You only pulled away from her once more, hating the way her skin on yours felt. “Don’t tell me I hit a nerve, did I? Sucks doesn’t it. Well, there is one way of ensuring your little family stay naïve to the world around them.” She stood tall once more, her voice now deeper, more sinister than before. “Tell me what I want to know.”

You had no choice, right? She threatened your family, your sister. You protected them from so long, only for you to be the reason they are in danger. Looking down at your lap, tears hit your thighs unable to control them you simply let them fall. Taking a deep breath, you looked up at the woman before you, a smirk present on her face which made it so much harder to say what you were about to. But the images of your sister raced through your mind. The way her hair shone in the autumn sun, the way her smile reached her eyes when she was really, truly happy, the way she greeted you after school every day by running down the front path directly into your arms. That was the highlight of your day, finishing school and-

Wait

You never responded to Stiles.

You never texted him back, and the kidnappers were kind enough to bring your phone into the room with you – hoping to get some information.

Your eyes moved to the door behind the woman, a loud crash followed by a heavy grunt sounded from behind the entranceway. The woman whipped her head around, only to be met by silence. She slowly approached the doorway.

“Adrian…?”

Silence

The woman turned back to you, unsure of herself. You only had a small smirk as a response. Before she could question you, the door busted open, barely remaining on its hinges, a rush of dust filled the room. Watching ahead as the dust clouds engulfed the woman, you heard a deafening roar followed by a petrified scream. Small thuds followed, as the dust reached your eyes you began coughing, the sudden pain in your ribs swiftly returning.

Two hands were placed on your shoulders, looking up you were met by two green eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” A worried Derek scanned your face, concern riddled him as he saw the multiple cuts and bruising before him. You could only nod, the dust denying you the ability to speak.

Moving behind you, he effortlessly cut the ties that bound your hands, then your legs. Using the arms of the chair to stable yourself, you attempted to stand, wincing when the pain became too much. Derek moved to your side, wrapping your arm over his shoulder. Carefully placing his arm around you, resting his hand on your hip he accepted most of your weight, attempting to make standing and walking easier. As you took a few steps forward, the dust cleared from your eyes and you were able to regain focus. Looking forward you saw the woman who threatened you, her back against the same wall the door was, her skin now covered in blood, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. Scott stood before her, looking down at the defeated woman, his eyes still red and his claws still present.

Clearing your throat, you stopped walking, causing Derek to pause and look over to you. You peered down at the woman, no longer in a position of power, she looked smaller, more gaunt than before. Her eyes showed she was petrified, providing some comfort to you after what she did.

“Sucks doesn’t it?” a whisper of a smirk present on your lips.

Proceeding to step forward through the doorway you were met by a panting Stiles, his arms stretched out in front of him, you couldn’t tell him to stop before his body connected with yours. You inhaled sharply, grimacing as pain rang throughout your body.

Derek used his free hand to grab Stiles by the shoulder, pulling him away from you, a small growl forming in his chest.

“Oh, shit sorry of course you’re hurt shit sorry.” The boy stumbled over his words, his eyes finally taking in the battered sight before him. He moved to the side of you not occupied by Derek, his help was welcomed by you, suddenly feeling lightheaded from standing.

The three of you began walking forward towards the exit of the building.

“Is now a good time to tell Derek, you think he has no balls?” Stiles piped up earning a death glare from Derek. “No? Okay we can come back to that.” You used whatever energy you had left to shake your head.

[siempre-bucky]

I.I.G.Y.M.H.W.Y.T.I.A.M.M.T.H.M.I.T.W?

COWBOY!BUCKY X READER

♡if I gave you my hand would you take it and make me the happiest man in the world?

Summary: Nat and Wanda take the reader post break up to The Stark Ranch, a beautiful little place in the lush green countryside. God she hated it, she didn't want to be here only wanted him back. With one dip of a black cowboy hat and a deep-voiced greeting, the readers brooding would have to wait.

Part 1 of 3

Warnings: light mentions of past abuse,

WC: 3.8k

A/N: there was a tiktok and it was just cowboy Sebastian Stan and this fucking song!! Here's a thing I can't stop thinking about! I edited this the best I could.

In the long, rich history of bad ideas, this had to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. Here she was, squished in between her best friends in the back of an Uber. An old country song from the 60s played on the radio as the two redheads gushed about the small town they were driving through. The most popular restaurant back in Brooklyn probably had more people inside it than this little country town.

"Are you done brooding?" Wanda complains, her Sokovian accent purely intensified the distaste in her tone.

"All I want is John, back," Y/N mutters bitterly, her jaw clenched, sinking lower into the seat. Both women roll their eyes at her comment.

"You haven't stopped mentioning Walker since we got off the plane. It's been 2 months Y/N," Natasha reminds her, checking her watch that was peaking from her black leather jacket. "Don't forget this is why we're here! A getaway is just what you need."

Has it already been 2 months? It only felt like 2 weeks since he left. His last words still sent a chill down her spine "Did you really expect me not to cheat, Y/N? It's New York, get used to it, babe." Y/N shakes her head, trying to get that man's callous words out of her head. She felt like she was already at the acceptance of the grieving process. She clearly wasn't there.

Natasha suddenly gasps, the Stark Ranch coming into view with its black iron gates, its name the biggest thing on it. Y/N looks in Nat's direction, the 4 story red and yellow inn sat in the middle of a long dirt road and was nuzzled in with the saturated green grass and big trees. Y/N thought it was pretty but she would never admit that to her friends.

"Ladies you have a good time out here! I reckon you'll find our little town quite charmin'!" The older man tells them happily as his car comes to a stop in front of the inn. The girls give him their thanks and get out to take a look at the place.

Nat's hand shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up the place, a confident smile on her face since she picked out this place in the middle of nowhere. Wanda stood in the middle with her hands in her pockets and a relaxed smile. As for Y/N? she might as well have a dark cloud hanging over her. It smelled like grass and horses, her black ankle boots were covered in dust, and worst of all...Natasha blocked John's number. "Relaxation awaits girls!" Nat cheers as she leads her small pack into the front doors of the inn.

The inside was just a cute as the outside, country-style couches placed in the center with a mahogany coffee table littered in doilies. Guests laughed and chatted behind the french doors in the restaurant beside them. "Welcome to Stark Inn!" The front desk lady greets them, her strawberry blonde hair tied in a bun and a glossy smile on her features.

"You go check-in, I'm staying here," Y/N sighs, plopping down onto one of the floral couches, taking out her phone from her back pocket. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes, pushing their luggage next to their friend before walking over to check-in.

She checked her phone 5 times, 5 different bell-sounding notifications from 5 different apps. Nothing from her former love, of course, not because he's blocked. The next bell sound didn't come from her phone but the front doors of the inn. The ding was followed by two men laughing loudly, one clapping the other on the back. The Y/H/C girl looks up at the source of the ruckus.

One was blonde, wearing a thin blue flannel shirt and dark jeans. He was cute, had a nice ass, and blue eyes a lady could swim in. The other man was a different story, however. A blush crept up her cheeks as she looked at him. His shoulder-length hair was tied up in a low bun, face nearly hidden by his black velvet cowboy hat. Fuck that man looked good in red flannel.

The said man looked down at her. Oh shit, she'd been caught staring at the two cowboys. Before she could look away the one in red smirked at her and dipped his hat "ma'am," he speaks in greeting, his voice was low and raspy, sending butterflies to her stomach and other regions.

"H-hi," Y/n says shyly, like a schoolgirl whose crush finally talked to her. The man turned away and walked away to walk towards the front desk, mud left behind from their boots which they were quickly scolded for.

"Well while you boys are makin' a mess 'round my inn you can take help these girls up to their room," Pepper, the co-owner huffs "307... the nice one." Pepper waves them off, turning to grab the keys to the room.

Natasha eyed the blonde man up and down, resting her back on the front desk, propping her elbows up behind her. "Hi there cowboy," she speaks to him flirtatiously, her pink lips form a smirk. The man ducks his head and laughs.

"Hi there. I'm Steve."

"Natasha."

Y/N rolled her eyes at the flirting, rising from the couch she went to grab the handle of her bag but was met with cold metal. Her eyes flew up to see the man in the back cowboy hat already grabbed a hold of it "I'm assumin' this is yours?" he chuckled with that honey-like voice. Y/N nods and crossed her arms over her chest, her hand still feeling the chill of his hand.

She followed behind them, taking the red-carpeted stairs. She was behind them enough to stare at the broadness of his shoulders, a small smile appeared on her lips thinking about what it would be like to run her hands down his back. No, she quickly erased the image out of her mind. That thought returned as they climbed the second set of stairs, her Y/E/C traveled down his back and landed on his backside as he climbed. A red rag hung out of his back pocket.

The man turned around as they reached the top, catching her stare at him "I'm Bucky," he tells her, breaking her out of her trance. Bucky was 2 for 2 catching her stare at him. The red in her cheeks matched the vibrant red of the rag her eyes were once fixated on.

"Y/N," she responds simply, her voice quiet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." His words made her skin tingle, small bumps rising to the surface of her clothed skin. Her green jacket covering all the evidence.

"It's nice to meet you too, Bucky," she ponders over his name for a minute "did your parents name you that?"

Bucky laughed, oh God his laugh was precious "No, uh- my name is actually James. Bucky is just a nickname, I like it better," he explains. Y/N moved from the back to his side as they walked up the final set of stairs.

"Both names are nice," Y/n chuckles, "they suit you." They both looked at each other and instantly smiled, she even unfolded her arms and let them linger at her side. She forgot what it was like to be comfortable after all this time. Walking on eggshells for a man who could set off at any moment was what she grew accustomed to. This was nice, even she had to admit that.

The two girls in front couldn't help but give each other a knowing look, Steve even joined in. "He hasn't dated in years," he whispers to Natasha as they approached the room.

"A shell of a man cheated and dumped her," Wanda tells them in a hushed voice.

They reached the white door with a golden plate '307' written in script numbers. "This is the best room at the inn!" Steve starts to gush, placing the bags on the ground.

"Clear view of the stables, horses walking around all the time," Bucky chimes in, his elbow nudging Y/N the arm. he looked up at him with raised eyebrows but he wasn't looking at her this time. Did he do that on purpose? No. Probably not.

"Well... we'll let you ladies get settled in. Don't hesitate to reach out of you need anything." Steve dipped his hat and started to walk away, clapping his friend on the shoulder, turning him to walk in the same direction.

"See you around, Y/N," Bucky told her before walking away. Her eyes lingered on the tall man as he walked away and even he turned around to catch another glance at her. 3 for 3.

"Did someone catch feelings already?" Natasha laughed as he unlocked the room. Y/N eyebrows furrowed in anger, walking in after her friends, roughly brushing past the sassy redhead.

"All I want is John back. I don't know what the hell that was out there," she defended herself, snarling as she sat in the chair by the large windows, her legs hanging off the ledge.

The women hung their heads and began to unpack "You can have the other bedroom," was all Wanda said before the conversation ended. Y/N felt the guilt rise in her heart. She didn't mean to be so blunt and rude to them, in the back of her mind she knew they knew they were trying. She was trying too.

Time had passed and clothes were hung and folded away in their drawers. Nat sat on her laptop looking for places to eat in town while Wanda checked in with her husband and kids back home. Y/N hadn't left the chair since they arrived. Checking her phone for someone who couldn't talk to her.

"Look at this cute little place in town! It's home cooking they call it. We should go," Nat tells the girl happily.

"I'll call the Uber after I talk to Tommy," Wanda joins in.

"I-I don't want to go," Y/N says, her voice softer than before. She turns his attention to the sables below her, a black horse being led by the man in the black hat. "Bucky," she whispers to herself. She watches him, his lips were moving, obviously talking to the beautiful animal. A smile dared to appear on her face while she watched him, she saw her reflection and she sucked in her lips. Her attention went back to her friends.

"We're not going to let you coop yourself up in this room all night, Y/N." Natasha squints her eyes in judgment, closing her computer with a loud thud.

"And I don't want to make this trip miserable for you guys. I just need to be by myself for a while."

"That's what we're afraid of. It took 2 weeks to get you out of your apartment."

"I'm doing better now!" she shouts, realizing what she did she gulped and sat straight up in the chair, placing her feet on the floor "I'm sorry, Nat. Please just go, have fun and I promise we'll do that spa ay like you wanted tomorrow."

"Fine, but give me your phone," Wanda interjected, holding out her hand while her other one placed her phone in her back pocket. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head. Wanda's eyebrows lowered, her hand still stretched out as she walked towards her. She cocked her head, striking fear into the Y/H/C. She hated when Wanda did that.

"How are you going to reach me if something bad happens?"

With the phone now in Wanda's hand, Nat said "We'll call the front desk."

The girls had left, telling Y/N to make her time alone useful. She wanted to sit and wallow in her never-ending sadness. She remembered a time like this at a New York lawyers convention when John left her in the room for hours while he partied downstairs. No, no, she didn't want it to be like this even if it was her choice now.

The stables. She walked over to the window and saw the red building empty from what it looked like. Maybe she could get a glimpse of the horse she saw. Bucky didn't even cross her mind then or was that the reason she wanted to go so badly. No, it had to have been the horse she saw. Keep telling yourself that.

Y/N stayed back a bit longer, giving Nat and Wanda enough time to leave the property. They would never let this go after the stable comment Bucky made. She stepped outside, the sun starting to set and a small chilled breeze brushes past her. Lurking around to make sure no one was there she slowly walked into the stable, the horses not paying her any attention.

There she was, the beautiful black mare standing her her stall, her face poking out of the window. Y/N walked over and let the horse sniff the palm of her hand "You're so pretty, my darling," Y/N beams, rubbing her nose. The horse nickered, making the woman laugh "You like compliments don't you."

"She craves attention!" A voice called out from the other side of the barn. Y/N whipped her head to the side, her heart thumping against her chest. Bucky started making his way over, two silver buckets in his strong arms. The sweat on his face didn't go unnoticed by her, she swallowed hard and took a step back from the horse.

"I-I didn't see a stay-out sign, I'm sorry if I'm not all-" her rambling was cut off by his soft chuckle and the clang of the buckets now on the ground.

" I don't mind, doll. Clementine loves the company." I was hoping you'd show up, he kept that to himself of course. "While you're here, do you want to help me brush her? She gets sad if I don't do it before I leave."

Y/N smiles softly and nods at him, her hands folded in her lap. Bucky eagerly opened the stall and allowed her to enter first. He ran around to empty the feed buckets and placing the buckets on the shelf. He pants as he hands her a brush, his awkward smile earning a thank you.

Bucky stood on one side while she stood on the other, brushing the shiny coat of Celmentines's body. The silence was a comfort and the soft brushing noises were music to their ears. She enjoyed the silence and stolen glances at each other. His steel-blue eyes fixated on his favorite horse, she'd never seen someone look that loving towards someone else.

He breaks the silence "So what brings you guys all the way out to our neck of the woods?"

Was she supposed to be honest? Because 'I'm desperately trying to get over a man who ripped my heart out' doesn't scream approachable. She bit her lip and looked at him from the other side of the horse, their searching eyes meeting.

"Fella did me wrong so my friends decided a getaway was the best medicine," she explained, a watered-down version of what the real devastating truth was.

Bucky nods as he listens to her, slowly making his way to her side, brushing Clementine's hip as a cover. He didn't push it any further, now wasn't the time and he remembered her somber appearance when he first met her in the lobby "Where ya from?" He asks instead

"Brooklyn." His ears perk up, he hadn't thought about that city in so long.

"Brooklyn?" he hums, "how's the city these days?"

"Busy," she responds, looking over at him trying not to act surprised that he moved closer. "You've been?"

"Once or twice." 7 years. He frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. Y/N hums and starts to brush the side of her neck. Clementine whinnies, making the woman jump back. "I-It's ok," Bucky tells her kindly, holding out his hand, "she likes that, let me show you." He takes off his hat and tosses it on top of the hay pile behind them.

His flesh arm placed at on her midback, bringing her closer to the horse. His metal arm covers her hand to guide the brush down Clementine's neck. The sound of her own heart was deafening, he was so close she could pick up everything. The smell of hay and horses mixed in wish musk and was the cedar? It was manly...just like him. The stands of loose hair stuck to his forehead, small grey hairs mixed into his stubble.

Her eyes shifted away from his face onto the sight in front of her, his hand over hers, the gold and black metal shining in the overhead light. She wondered if he could feel her. "Your arm?" she questions barely audibly.

"It was a military accident...I fell," he responded, she couldn't tell if there was sorrow in his voice or he was just accustomed to explaining it all the time.

"It's nice! I hope I didn't offend you," she tried to pull away from the situation she created but his flesh arm held her still. He looks down at her and smiles.

"You didn't. It was a long time ago."

His reassurance got her to relax. They eased into small talk about their lives, she learned that he was born here and always helped the Starks on the ranch when they opened it, leading into a job when he got out of school. He was kind and funny, made her heart constantly skip beats when he said something nice. It made her forget John Walker for a while.

The sun went down, the auto light of the stables turned on. Bucky knew he should've clocked out by now, but this was far better. She was sad, he knew that, but when she relaxed she was surprisingly funny with her quick wit, soft smiles, and her newfound love for his favorite girl Clementine.

"Have you ridden before?" he asks as they finish, taking her brush back.

"No," Y/N laughs as she recalls her childhood, "I saw a boy fall off one at summer camp and I swore I'd never do it. I admire from afar."

Bucky joins in on the laugh while he grabs his hat and dusts off the loose straws of hay on his hat. Y/N bits her lip and pats Clemintine one last time before the pair walked towards the door "Watch your step," he warns, holding his metal hand out for her to take. She looks at him for a moment, feeling like her feet were cement. Her eyes flash from his hand to the softness in his eyes.

"Fucking hell Y/N let's go!" John's hand outreached for her, it was shaking, matching his anger. "I'll fucking leave you here. You know, fuck it. Walk home." That hand turned into a fist... she didn't like that fist.

Hesitantly she takes it, her nervous fingers wrapping around his palm as he guided her over the edge of the stall and onto the main ground of the stable. "Thanks for letting me brush her, it was nice," she smiled, still holding his hand. She wasn't the only one who didn't let go.

"Any time, doll. How long are ya here for?"

"5 days," she responds. Not enough time, he frowned and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Well you can come down any time you'd like, Clem would like the company." I would too.

Y/N finally realized she was holding his hand, her eyes went wide and pulled away suddenly, her nervous chuckle ringing in his ears "I-I should go... thank you again Bucky."

She scurries off towards the inn, their hands still tingling. He'd never been this happy to still have nerves in his arm "God bless Wakanda tech," he praised under his breath, clenching and unclenching the hand.

"Y/N! Wait a minute," he shouts stopping her mid way. She turns and see's him standing there in the overhead light of the stable, like he was waiting for her to get there safely.

"Yeah?" she questions, matching the volume of his voice.

"While you're here you should try Happy's Diner! Best coffee in town!"

"I thought this place did?"

"Don't let Pepper convince you!"

Y/N giggles and nods "I will. Goodnight Buck."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He watches her leave, making sure she was safely inside, she turned to catch one last glance at him making the brunette smile at her and waving her off.

It would be another hour before Natasha and Wanda returned to the room, finding their friend in the same position in the chair by the window. This time her shoes were dustier than before, black hairs visible on her cream-colored shirt. She stared at the cowboy painting on the wall in front of her like her life depended on it "What did you do all day, Y/N?" Wanda asks, tossing Y/N's phone on the bed.

She expected her to run and grab it, feverishly checking the messages John couldn't send. That reaction never came, she didn't flinch when the phone landed on the bed with a soft thud. Her mind was still a blur, Bucky was kind, he held his hand out for her and got her to the other side of the stall...he waited for her.

"This," Y/N remarks, coming out of her thoughts pointing to the chair she was occupying. The spy in the leather jacket didn't buy it, looking at the differences in her clothing and demeanor.

"Sounds like a bore," Nat sighs, deciding to let it go for a moment.

"How was the restaurant?" Y/N yawns, getting up and walking past them. The two redheads sniffed the air as she passed, it smelled like Y/N had been sleeping in a barn. Well, that was almost true.

"What the hell is that smell?" Wanda grimaced, her nose scrunching at the foul smell. Y/N stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, she wasn't about to tell them about her time in the stable with Bucky. She brought her shirt up to her nose, fuck, it was her.

"Must be the atmosphere," she laughed it off, "I'm going to bed!" She rushes off before the accusations came and she knew they would come.

The door to the adjoining room slams shut and the girls give each other a knowing look "Twenty bucks says she smuggled Walker in here," Wanda bets.

"Nah, it was the guy with Steve. She blushed way too much to have done nothing about it."

"Fair."

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

OK so I got this idea. S/o (who's this time has to be female) is also an octo mermaid but still from another world. So s/o gets into one of the pools and they discover she's a blanket octopus (if you haven't seen a female blanket octopus they're one of the most beautiful octopus out there with their gradient colors) and they get popular af like everyone is like "wow she's such a beautiful meroctopus" Yada yada. And Azul it's mad. Part 1

Part 2. And both Jade and Floyd notice it and decide to tell s/o who is shocked and sad because they have a HUGE crush so they decided to give him a gift. Since they know he doesn't have a octopus pot they decide to make him one. After months they give it to him and confess and he's shocked and ask for their forgiveness as it isn't their fault. At the end he and s/o cuddle inside of the octo pot in their mer forms.

OMG THIS TOOK ME FOREVER!!!! I probably got this ask before thanksgiving so I am very sorry that it took me this long, HOWEVER, it is the longest oneshot I have ever written so that’s quite an accomplishment. There are photo references that go with this story as well so check those out before you read. 

Warnings: Slight language, insecurities, fluff, very very minor angst, fem!s/o

Word count: 4,710

Azul x Reader: Cuddle Pot

The above images are references for the s/o’s octopus species and the octopus pot. I don’t know who the original artist is for the second so if you know please let me know so I can give credit where due.

   “Wait seriously? You’re a mermaid!” Ace practically shrieks and you giggle. Placing a finger to your lips, you shush him as Deuce slaps the back of your over energetic friend’s head. 

   “Yes. I am a mermaid, but you can’t tell anyone yet.”

   “Why not?” Jack questions. His tail flicks in confusion.

   You sigh and think back to the last time anyone found out about your true form. Most of the people back in your world found merpeople to be odd and cursed. It was considered a disability and a disease. Human society often shunned what they didn’t understand. And that lack of understanding led to fear. 

   A boy in your old school had been your middle school sweetheart for approximately 7 months before you decided to tell him your secret. He had seemed so eager to finally go swimming with you that you had naively believed that it was all going to be fine. However when he stared at your flowey, shimmering form you felt yourself grow worried that he would no longer like you. 

   “Babe,” you started, leaning closer to try and grasp his face with your smooth, webbed fingers. “It’s alright. It’s just my merform. It’s going to-” He quickly slapped your hand away and stumbled back. 

   “F-freak, monster, disgusting. Stay away from me you animal! We’re over you deceiving B*tch!” He quickly ran away from the side of the lake where you had brought him. As dawns lovely lights sprayed your body with pinks, and soft oranges, tears slid down your cheeks and into the water below. He hated you. Oh what a fool you had been to think that he would be different, that he would love you anyway. 

   School had become increasingly difficult after that. Word spread fast and you were quickly isolated by everyone you had called a friend. Eventually you moved to a new place and decided that you would never love again.

   This wasn’t the case however in Twisted Wonderland. You were so pleasantly surprised to find people like you, and they weren’t considered freaks because of it. It had been a shock and you quickly found yourself yearning to tell others about what you truly were. Fear had you back though. At least up until that point.

   “I had a bad experience with someone I cared about back in my home world.” You stated softly. The boys looked at each other and smiled. 

   “Well this isn’t that world. You're good to go here since I can’t imagine anyone judging you for what you look like in this place.” Ace’s words reassured you.

   “He’s right. At NRC it’s highly unlikely that you’ll be bullied because of something like this. But what are you anyway?” Deuce questioned. 

   You giggled and leaned in closer to the 4 people sitting at the lunch table, (5 if you included Grimm, but he already knew). “I’m an octopus.” You said with excitement and slight nervousness.

   “Really? That sounds so cool!” Epel was quiet but excited when he spoke up for the first time since the conversation started. You smiled to yourself and mentally sighed in relief that the people you had next trusted with your secret didn’t view you any differently. 

   “Wait hold the phone. Octopus? Like Azul?” Ace pressed close enough that you could reach across with a napkin and wipe the side of his cheek that had been smeared with BBQ sauce when he scarfed his lunch.

  “Yes and no, Azul is a Common Octopus, which means that he is the standard octopus you mostly see around the ocean or in pictures. Basically what you imagine when someone says Octopus. I’m a different type of octopus, one that is more rare.” You pulled out your phone while talking to bring up an image. You held the phone so everyone at the table could see.

   “This is a female Blanket Octopus. We’re pretty rare but we are also one of the most beautiful kinds.” 

   Everyone went wide eyed and watched the screen as you scrolled through images of your fellow eight legged friends. Epel turned to you and grabbed your shoulder. 

   “You absolutely have to show us your merform.” Ace, Deuce, and Jack all nodded in agreement. You flushed and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. 

   “I don’t know guys. It would be a hassle to find a place where we could do it and I’m not sure I want anyone else seeing me. What if someone shows up and freaks out?” This time it was Jack’s turn to speak when he leaned back before smiling slightly.

   “Not that I care but I personally would show up to support you if you needed it. Besides, the school pool is closed after dark. However I’m pretty sure Ruggie has snatched a copy of every key to every lock in the building.”

   “Of course he has.” Deuce says rolling his eyes. “That hyena couldn’t keep his paws to himself even if his life depended on it.” You giggled but ignored the comment in favor of asking Jack if he could get the key. The wolf nodded and you told everyone to meet you by the pool at 9:30. Your friends nodded in agreement just as the bell rang.

----------

   The air was humid and warm, it was perfect for a late night swim, although your clothes would likely stick to your body when you changed back. Still you shifted uncomfortably at the idea of getting in the water with what you are wearing. A pair of leggings was slipped on underneath a waterproof skirt. You had a jacket over your bikini top but per usual you were unable to wear bottoms unless you wanted them to tear. You would have to be very careful not to let the skirt go up before you shifted.

   A sigh left your lips and Grimm, sensing your nervousness, rubbed up against your leg in silent comfort. Your friends were unlikely to freak out but it was still nerve wracking to think about exposing your true form to other non-merpeople. Hundreds of scenarios where something went wrong filtered through your head and promised that your anxiety wouldn’t leave anytime soon. 

  “BOO!” Half a shriek pierced the night before a hand clasped over your mouth.  

   “Shishishishishi.” You turned around in surprise and pulled the fingers away from your face.

   “Ruggie! What are you doing here?” You whisper shouted. The hyena snickered again and held up one finger. He made a circular motion and a key ring twirled around in response. 

   “Jack said you needed to get in here. Thought I’d tag along.” The smirk on his face irritated you but you couldn’t be surprised. You should have known that having Jack of all people ask for keys to break into the pool after hours was going to raise some eyebrows. Honestly you should have just asked him to invite Ruggie along anyways. Key or no key the hyena was likely to want to know what was going on. 

   “Alright fine, but if you tell anyone what you saw here today, and I mean anyone, then I will hide your piggy bank from you.” Ruggie’s eyes went wide before they narrowed.

   “You have my word.” You smiled knowing that you had convinced him to keep your secret despite the fact that if he really had told someone you wouldn’t have actually done more than try and punch him. Of all people you knew how precious money was in this world, considering the fact that you had none.

   Footsteps alerted you to the approaching presence of your other friends. You turn

around and find Jack, Epel, Ace and Deuce walking over to you. They wave and Jack frowns when he spots Ruggie.

   “What are you doing here? I thought you already gave me the key.” The hyena snickers and points towards the key Jack was holding. 

   “I gave you the one to the janitors closet, which I’m gonna need back by the way. I wanted to see what was going on for myself so I hung out here till Y/n came over, and then I figured it had to be interesting if she was involved. I didn’t know there was gonna be a crowd though.” He looked at you, “This must be one hell of a surprise if you got all the first years here.”

   Deuce pointed out that Sebek was a first year as well but the hyena shrugged it off saying “he doesn’t count as a student since he’s basically just a guard.” You figured that was Leona’s opinion and Ruggie agreed.

   “Guys it’s already late and I don’t wanna get caught so let's go in already.” Everyone nodded and Ruggie opened the gate. 

   Carefully you unzipped your jacket as you walked over to the bench. The water appeared calm and undisturbed, allowing a clear view of the illuminated bottom which was surprisingly clean considering teenage boys flung about in the water all day.

   You sighed and shrugged the jacket off before stepping out of your shoes. Setting down the bag with your extra clothes you mentally prepared yourself for what was about to happen. 

   Ruggie leaned closer to Jack and whispered something you didn’t catch but Jack’s response of “You’ll see.” was enough to tell you what had happened. Pushing your anxiety out of the way you lowered yourself into the pool, sighing as the cool water licked your skin. Giving yourself a moment to relax you let your worries leak into the water around you. You had always felt better in the water. It’s a merfolk thing.

   “Are you guys positive you won’t freak out?” You called to the edge of the pool where your friends were standing. 

   “Not unless you grow 10 heads.” Ace sniggered until Epel elbowed him. You rolled your eyes and looked suspiciously over to Ruggie who still had no idea what was going on. 

   “No promises.” You sighed, but smiled when Jack nodded at you, signaling that it would be alright. Who were you kidding Ruggie was a hyena man who grew up in the slums. What did he care? Feelings of worry taken care of, you sunk deeper into the water and closed your eyes.

   The feeling that comes with shifting is always a little strange. It’s almost like your skin has been turned to putty and it is remolding itself and when it reaches the desired outcome it snaps back into place and holds like it has been that way the whole time. 

   Once you felt the transformation had completed you righted yourself in the water and peeked an eye open to look at your friends. Ace and Epel had their mouths wide open in a gasp. One that quickly turned into a smile. Jack looked as though he had just witnessed a miracle and Deuce was still in shock. Ruggie’s reaction was by far the most extravagant. His eyes were wide and his mouth was curved into a questioning gape. He had taken several steps back and his ears lay flat on his head. Behind him his tail bristled and stood fairly straight, pushing up the too large shirt. 

   You bit your lip and examined their faces trying to come up with a conclusion to what they were feeling. 

   “That… Is so cool!” Ace blurted out excitedly and ran over to the pool's edge to get a closer look. Deuce and Epel followed him and Jack trotted over as well, but not before snorting at Ruggie. The hyena man looked your form up and down and took in the swirling shades of color that decorated your now sea creature bottom half. He made a small noise before shaking himself and casually patting down the fur on his tail, which was still tense but not as much. 

   “Ok, of all the things I’ve seen. That, I was not expecting.” You giggled at Ruggie’s flustered reaction and felt yourself relax now that you knew pitchforks and torches weren’t coming out. 

   The hyena moved closer to the pool and joined your other friends who were staring at you in awe. You blushed uncontrollably as you felt their gazes roam your colorful body. Decorative markings that spread up to your collarbone changed to a darker shade with your blush.

   “So like can I touch you?” Deuce smacks his hand against Ace’s chest and gives him this look that says “dude you can’t just say that''. You giggle and glide closer to them before lifting your arm which was for the most part pretty human, but had a lavender shade to it and a long silky strip of webbing that shimmered as it moved. The longest tentacle on your body rose out of the water as well and you shivered as the webbing stuck together in an uncomfortable manner. 

   Ace leaned forwards and stroked your arm and tentacle. His eyes were filled with curiosity and wonder. Deuce looked a little more unsure but Epel had no problem reaching out and gently caressing your webbing. Ruggie joined him and Deuce eventually stuck his hand out to stroke your arm, but Jack held back and decided that ultimately he only wanted to look.

   “Wow! This stuff is so soft!” Epel said excitedly. He was generally pretty quiet so you were glad he was comfortable enough to speak out. 

   “It’s so colorful. If we had silks this pretty in the savannah then we’d have lots of money. Say, where could I find more of your kind.” Ruggie’s smirk told you that he was just joking but you glared at him anyways and flicked water his way. 

   The hyena flinched and shook his head before laying his ears back and moving away from the water. Jack and Ace laughed at the antics before Ruggie growled playfully and distracted them from what had happened moments before. 

   It was then that Ace leaned a bit too far forwards and fell straight into the pool. You jumped and swung your tentacles back, instinctively spreading them out to make yourself look bigger. 

   You willed your body to relax as you recovered from the little panic attack and laughed when Ace’s head bobbed to the surface. He sputtered and swam over to the edge and climbed out of the pool. He lay on the concrete and breathed heavily while the boys around him cackled. Ace glared and stood up. 

   “You jerks I’ll show you how you like it.” Deuce shrieked as Ace shoved him into the water. You laughed with everyone else as Deuce came up for air. Sensing a sudden threat of being pushed into the water Ruggie backed up against the gate and watched as Jack pushed Epel in before diving in himself. The five of you giggled and splashed as Ruggie snickered at your antics. 

   You were so glad your new friends didn’t mind your merform. Even better, they really liked it. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders as you dived down to swim with your friends. As the five of you splashed and played with Ruggie distracted with your antics, none of you noticed a dark form smirk in the bushes. Nor the click of the camera that he had with him.

----------

   The next day was a nightmare. Apparently someone had spied on you and your friends and photographed you in your merform. People swarmed you asking you all sorts of questions. It was difficult to just get through the halls. Luckily none of the people who stopped and talked to you had anything unkind to say and the stares you received were more curious than malicious but it was still an uncomfortable situation to be in.

   For the most part people who knew you were pretty considerate about your space and privacy. Cater seemed absolutely thrilled to know that you were an octopus but only asked if you were alright with everything going on, instead of bombarding you with questions. 

   Kalim was a little more enthusiastic about the whole situation. Jamil ended up apologizing for him and pulling him away. Vil and Rook subtly commented on your merforms beauty before moving on. Diasomnia rarely came near you but Lilia gave you a sympathetic smile. Trey offered you a few baked sweets as he sensed that you were overwhelmed and as for everyone else you had yet to see them.

   The person you were most worried about seeing though was Azul. He was an octopus merman like you, yet you had never seen his merform. Unless you counted his overblot the only time you had seen him in full shift was in the picture you had borrowed from the museum. 

   He and the Leech twins will probably have an absolute field day over the fact that you’re also a mertype. You worried what Azul was going to think of you hiding it. Over the past few months you had developed a crush on him. You had a plan to confess and everything, but now that the secret was out you were worried that he wasn’t going to like you for keeping it from him. In truth you planned on telling him first, but figured there was no harm in letting your other friends know. Turns out there was and the whole school knew.

   Trapped in your thoughts, you failed to notice the two approaching twins and bumped into them as you turned around a corner.

   “Hiii~ Shrimpy-chan~!” Floyd’s ever changing mood seemed to pleasant as he greeted you with a smile and not a squeeze. 

   “Hello, Y/n. How are you today?” Jade's gentleman persona greeted you but failed to hide the questions and mischief in his eyes. 

   “Just say it already. I know you two already know.” You sighed and watched their faces light up with excitement. Floyd grabbed your arm and took off, dragging you behind him. “Wait!” Soon the three of you arrived at an empty classroom which you were promptly shoved in before the tweels followed, shutting the door behind them.

   “Y/n, my apologies for Floyd’s exuberant behavior, but we have been meaning to speak with you in private since the most recent exposure of your true nature.” Jade was calm and collected as always when he spoke and gently fixed your crumpled uniform which had been shifted while running. 

   “Shrimpy-chan! We have something to tell you!~” Floyd sing-songed before sitting on a desk.

   “What? Wait what is it? And where’s Azul? Wouldn’t he want to speak with me too? If this is about a deal the answer is no.” You folded your arms in front of you and put distance between yourself and the seemingly respectful brother. The twins looked at eachother and you caught a glimpse of something passing through their eyes before Floyd pouted.

   “Aww, what’s wrong with making deals with us? We promise to be real nice this time and not leave you homeless. You could stay with us at Octavinelle!” You rolled your eyes as Floyd giggled and swung his long legs despite the fact that they could easily reach the floor from his seat. 

   “The truth is, Azul is jealous.”

   “What!” You turned and exclaimed at Jade’s statement. The tall mage nodded and continued with a strange look on his face like he wasn’t bothered by this at all. 

   “You are far more beautiful than him in your merform and he is bothered by it. Everyone has always shunned him for his octopus body and now you present yourself as one and everyone goes wild with excitement over your gorgeousness. Something he believes to never have possessed.” 

   You were stunned. Azul was jealous of you. He was upset because you were more beautiful than him. No. You wanted him to love you, not be bothered by you. Why hadn’t you thought of Azul’s insecurities. He just wanted to be an attractive merman and here you were, the same mertype as him and you were advertising your beauty to the world where he had to hide his away due to the fact that he was insecure. 

   Not bothering to say a word you quickly left the room and raced down the hall. You needed to fix this as soon as possible. Otherwise Azul might not like you ever again. Two pairs of mismatched eyes watched your retreat and shone with anticipation. 

   “How long do you think it will take?”

   “Not long Floyd. Luckily she was already prepared before we released the picture.”

----------

   Azul was so over this whole thing. He had rewatched the video and looked at the pictures about 20 times. You were so gorgeous and graceful in your merform; it just made him frustrated that he couldn have been admired for his tentacles. They were simple and slimy so most people hated them yet you were swathed in colorful silks that attracted every creature in the ocean. While most would swim by him or threaten to eat him, any sea animal that came across you would be hypnotised by your beauty. 

   The worst thing about you being an octopus is that it gave him one more reason to tell himself that you will never love him. He was so drab and you were well amazing. Of all the creatures in the sea you had to be a blanket octopus. If you had been a simple mermaid or even better a common octopus like him then surely he would have a chance with you at least. 

   A sudden knock on the door startled the mage and he stood quickly to make sure he looked alright before answering the door. You stood anxiously as he opened the door and grabbed his wrist before he had the chance to shut it. Surprisingly, Azul offered no resistance as you dragged him to the entrance of the aquarium. 

   Octavinelle’s aquarium had two sections, one was for regular fish and the other sea creatures that were on display from the mostro lounge. The other was for the residents. Any and all merfolk could use the aquarium if they felt homesick or separated from their true forms. This was where you chose to place the gift you had made. 

   Coming to a stop you turned and looked at Azul. He looked confused and excited at the same time. You took this as a good sign. 

   “Azul. Will you swim with me?” The merman’s eyes widened and he stood there processing your request for nearly a minute before responding.

   “Sure.”

   Giddy with glee you quickly leapt into the water and shed your clothes before transforming. Rising to the surface you looked up at him from just underneath the surface and he peered back at you.

   Strange. He thought for sure he would feel angry again when he saw you but the darling flush on your face and how you were genuinely happy to swim with him gave him another feeling all together. It bubbled inside of him and made him blush as he slowly lowered himself into the cool water beside you. 

   It had been a while since Azul had consciously shifted so he was a bit worried that he would do it too fast or slow and something would go wrong. Fortunately he was able to shift without incident. Once shifted he suddenly felt very self conscious. As a common octopus he was far more simple and plain compared to your swirling and colorful body. 

   You didn’t seem to mind however as you twirled and circled around Azul excitedly.

   “Come on I have something to show you.” Azul frowned in confusion but followed you regardless. You led him to a sort of grove area that he had never seen before. It was very well hidden but gorgeous as well. 

   You looked back at him excitedly and pushed through the sea vines to an open area where a ray of sunlight fell across and illuminated the gift you had spent months on. Azul’s jaw dropped when he laid eyes on the octopus pot that sat in the middle of the small room. 

   The base was grey and made of some type of stone. Around it sat lavender pillars and corals that surrounded the base except for the entrance. The round opening was smoothed and carved in a delicate design that resembled sea coral. Behind it sat a dark velvet cloth that was tied back with a golden rope.Azul assumed that was to block the entrance or allow for privacy. 

   The inside was decorated with lavish pillows in all sorts of cool shades. They were illuminated by a small yet classy lamp that hung off to the side. The outside of the pot was for the most part smooth and grey with a few purple undertones, but off to one side there sat a carving that resembled the waves and water foam, on top off which held a large pearl that glinted in the sunlight. On the other side a darker grey octopus clung to the top portion of the pot and spread its tentacles out in an elegant manner. Azul took note that the few that rose off the pot appeared to be for hanging things and one looked suspiciously like it was meant to support a staff. 

   You floated in place for what felt like hours as you waited for Azul to react. You reminded yourself to stay patient as he might not respond to it immediately. When he finally did react he did so without words. He simply pointed to himself and raised his eyebrows. You nodded excitedly before bowing your head bashfully. 

   “I’m so sorry that I upset you Azul. I never meant for it to get out in the first place. I was actually planning on telling you first and then giving this octopus pot to you since I know you don’t have one. Then things got messed up and everything and I’m so sorry. I think you’re beautiful in your merform and I hope you’ll accept my apology.” Your face burned when you spoke and you swished your tentacles nervously.

   “What?” You looked up when Azul spoke and saw confusion on his face. “I’m not upset at you. It’s not your fault you’re beautiful. Besides I could never be upset at you, octopus or not. I was distraught because I thought you were so amazing and I’m so plain and that there was no chance that you’d like me back.” You gasped and watched as his face slowly turned pink. 

   He dove into the pot and curled up, mentally berating himself for letting that slip. Shocked you glided over to the entrance of the pot and leaned your head in.

   “Azul. Do you mean that? Do you really like me?” He didn’t respond, you took a deep breath and admitted your own feelings. “Well I like you so…” His head snapped up and he let his expression grow into an ecstatic smile before coughing into his fist and composing himself.

   “Well in that case, do you want to come in and lay with me?” Azul ignored the fact that his face felt like it was on fire and waited as you giggled and moved in beside him. 

   “I’d love to. What do you think of the pot?” The merman smiled gently at you and spoke as he curled his tentacles around you and yours, him. 

   “It’s exquisite. I couldn’t love it more. Where did you get it?” 

   “I made it.” You muttered and flushed at the surprised and impressed look on his face. He shifted closer to you and gripped your hand with his. 

   “You did an excellent job. Thank you.” Your fingers intertwined with his and you pressed your forehead against his. 

   “I love you Azul.” You mumbled sleepily.

   “I love you Y/n.” He spoke before shutting his eyes and enjoying the warmth that spread through the pot. You’re silky webbing fell across the two of you like a blanket and after a stressful morning Azul allowed himself to slip into a comfortable sleep.

----------

   Two pairs of heterochromatic eyes watched the two octopus merpeople sleep soundly inside the pot and smirked with wicked teeth. 

   “How did you know she was an octopus as well?”

   “Floyd, surely you must have noticed. They both smell like takoyaki.” The eels laughed and quietly zipped away, leaving the octopus pot behind.

[lueurjun]

𝖱𝖮𝖠𝖣 𝖳𝖮 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖤. 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇

“=⌕ sim jaeyun x gn!reader. 

⌗ SUMMARY — becoming a tiktoker was never apart of the plan, but here you are, 4 million followers and a love for pranking your boyfriend. 

. . ⇢ LUEURJUN’S NOTES — this is supposed to be gender neutral but if i slipped up at any point then i do sincerely apologise. this probably won’t be written the best, i was kinda sick and had a moment of inspiration. this is super fluffy and cheesy, so brace yourself. 

₊❏❜ WARNING ⋮ uh tears of joy?? i guess.

2021 @lueurjun.

i. 

THE 30TH APRIL 2020 was the day that your life changed in ways that you used to believe only happened in movies. 

Honestly, setting up your phone and telling your devilishly handsome, yet so pure, so innocent boyfriend that you wanted to have a child—whether that be adoption plans or getting pregnant—it was a small prank you decided to pull and film for your group chat. You never had any intentions of uploading it onto the internet, until Jay, one of your closest friends, suggested that you posted it to Tiktok. 

Jake was cool with it, having not expected it to blow up as much as it did. Nobody had expected for you to get over 2 million views and over 600k likes on your first video. Nor did you expect the heaps of requests in your comment section of different pranks to pull on your boyfriend. And that’s where it began. 

That one video was a rabbit hole into what quickly became your career. 

Now, with over 4 million followers, you have created your own little fan base, who have grown to love you, your boyfriend and even your friends that occasionally end up in your videos.

ii. 

The light in the kitchen flickered once as you set up your phone against a bunch of cookbooks that your parents had yet to read. Mentally, you made a note to ask one of your family members to change the bulb when they returned home. Focusing on your phone, which was now recording, you put your thumbs up and turned towards the door.

“JAEYUN!” Your voice echoed through the quiet home, bouncing off every wall until it met your boyfriend’s ears. Brief shuffling could be heard followed by the padding of feet across the floor boards. He was only in the next room, so it didn’t take long for him to appear right before your eyes. 

The first thing your eyes set on was the crinkles in his shirt, suggesting that he had been laying down. His dark hair was hidden beneath a black hat, which he had placed on his head backwards. He was dressed so simple, but you still managed to fall in love once again at the sight of him. You often wondered how you had managed to bag someone like Jake, he was the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t really see why he would want to be with you. Jake never let these thoughts ponder in your mind for too long, since he was always quick to prove to you that you’re everything to him. 

Secretly eyeing the camera, you put on a pout and fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Immediately, the alarm bells go off in Jake’s mind. You’re never normally this quiet and it’s rare to see you pout. He frowns a little, eyebrows knitting together as concern washes over his face. Using his index finger and his thumb, he lifts your chin and gently rubs the skin just below your lip.

“What’s the matter?” 

“I just- don’t get mad,” you begin, forcing yourself to sound sad. “But I just think you could’ve been a little bit nicer to me today.”

He had been nothing but an angel to you all day, and you felt horrendous for making him think otherwise, but alas, Tiktok had spoken and they wanted you to do this prank. So, as bad as you felt, it wouldn’t cause much harm. 

“Did I do something to upset you?” He looks genuinely hurt by his own actions and guilt immediately tugs at your heart strings.

You shrug and avert your gaze downwards, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your feet. This was partly to stop yourself from giving in too quickly, you’d always been a sucker for Jake’s puppy dog eyes and you knew if you looked into them any longer, you would stop the prank.  

Jake cocks his head to the side and steps closer to you, nuzzling his nose against the side of your head. You feel his breath fan over your ear and you swear your heart stops beating for a second. His fingers trail over your waist and he plants the softest kiss to the side of your head. 

“I just feel like you’ve been a little mean to me today,” you continue. And he nods his head in understanding, though you know he doesn’t understand at all. Jake doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but if you think he hasn’t been nice to you then he’s not going to argue. 

“I’m sorry, can you tell me what I did to make you feel this way?” 

You lean your head against his chest and bite your lip, it’s hard to contain your smile. With his sweet response mixed with the scent of his cologne fogging up your brain, you have a hard time holding onto your act and he quickly notices. 

“Is this a prank?” He asks, pulling away from you. 

You let the giggles slip from your mouth and nod towards the phone, that you had done your best to hide. Jake turns, his hand still on your waist, and he looks for the camera. Once his eyes land on his figure, he throws his head back and a breathy laugh falls from his lips.

“I should’ve known.” 

Yes, yes he should’ve but you still made up for it with plenty of kisses. 

iii. 

Picking Jake up from football practice had become a ritual. 

You didn’t need to be asked anymore, you’re just always there waiting for him and he loves that. The excited smile on his face whenever he sees you patiently sitting behind the wheel never gets old. Picking him up, as sad as it sounds, has become your drive to get through Tuesdays. They’re not your favourite day of the week, but knowing you get to see a smiley, yet sweaty, Sim Jaeyun at the end of the day gives you more than enough motivation. 

Just like any other Tuesday, you’re waiting. You like to get there early and so, you have about fifteen more minutes until you see your favourite boy walking through the gate. Music plays softly in the background as you lean back and scroll through your comment sections—people are so sweet, though you do get a bitter taste in your mouth when you see people fawning over your boyfriend like he’s a piece of cake. 

You ignore the thirst comments and look through the requests. Not many catch your eye, until you come across a particular one and a smirk appears on your face.  

Fifteen minutes turns into twenty and finally you see your worn out boyfriend heading towards your car. As tired as he never fails to smile and pick up his pace. He pulls open the door and slips inside. You reach over and greet him with a chaste kiss before pulling away.

“How was practice?” 

“Exhausting. Can we take a nap together when we get to your place?” He asks whilst adjusting his seatbelt. 

A nap sounds amazing, and you waste no time in nodding your head. “Before we go, I went shopping today. I picked you up a few things, let me show you.” 

He melts then and there. Reaching back, you grab one of the bags and aggressively tug it towards you, making sure you hit Jake on the side of the head. He hisses and turns to look at you. 

You don’t even apologize. 

“No this isn’t it,” you mumble to yourself. 

You grip the bag and throw it back where you got it from, once again making sure to slap your boyfriend with it. He stares at you, annoyed with your aggressiveness, though you don’t look back at him and instead, you hit him a third time with a new bag but you instantly regret it. You ended up attacking him with the new pair of shoes you treated yourself to and you can tell this one pained him.

Quickly giving up on the prank, you drop the bag and reach over to rub the back of his head. “I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” 

He whips his head towards you, looking at you as though you had just murdered an entire family in front of him. “What? So you meant to hit me?” 

You drop your hand and retreat back to your seat, attempting to look innocent. Jake then finds your phone, which is pointing right at him and he sees that it’s recording. You feel guilty, having not meant to hurt him so hard, you can’t meet his eye. You are about to start driving again, when you feel an impact on your arm and a yelp parts from your mouth. 

Jake sits beside you, a smile on his face and a bag clutched in his hand. You scowl and he only grins wider. 

“Now we’re even.” 

Oh, he is evil. 

iv. 

On the 10th May 2021, you hit 5 million followers. 

It was a shock, you rarely kept track of your follower count because you weren’t really in it for that ( though you are grateful for every single person that supports you ) so, you really hadn’t been expecting to hit such a huge milestone. In fact, you were so unexpectant, that you were sleeping at the time. 

“BABY!” Your eyes flew open as the bed shook. Jake had jumped on the bed, plastering kisses all over your face. “You hit 5 mill!” 

Disoriented, you blink. “Pardon?” 

Jake chuckles at your sleepy state, even with messy hair and puffy eyes, he thinks you look so attractive. His dark eyes trail over your features as he uses his thumb to rub underneath your eye, almost like he was trying to wipe away your sleepiness. 

“You hit 5 million followers, you did it.” His voice is softer this time, quieter but still filled with enthusiasm. You gape at him, and he laughs. 

“I did?” You ask, pointing to yourself. 

He nods. “You did.” 

The realisation crashes down at you at once and suddenly, you feel your nose sting as tears form in your eyes. Your fingers curl around the fabric of your boyfriend’s shirt whilst the other hand comes up to cover your mouth. Stray tears drop down onto your skin. You can’t believe it. 5 million people followed you. They like your content.

Jake coos at the tears that leak from your eyes like a waterfall. He’s quick to wipe them away, before he presses a kiss to your wet cheek. He’s proud and he’s filled with pride, his baby got 5 million followers and he couldn’t wait to brag to everyone about how talented and cool you are. That’s his favourite thing to do. Jake loves to brag about you. 

You sniffle and press your hands against his cheeks. Gently, you rub your nose against his own. “We did it. It’s your account just as much as it is mine, I wouldn’t have got this far without you. After all, you’re my main prank victim. So, we did it. We hit 5 million together.” 

You weren’t taking all of the credit, Jake was just as involved as you and he deserves the praise. You had done this together. 

“You do know Jay is never going to let you forget that he was the one who suggested uploading it to TikTok...right?” 

You laugh, nodding your head. “Yep. I know he’s gloating in the group chat, right now.” 

And he was. Jay was so proud of you and Jake, but most of all, he was proud of himself because without him, you would have never uploaded that first video. So, you let him have his moment. 

“To millions more!” Jake cheers as he lifts the pizza in his hand, the two of you had decided to celebrate with a victorious take away and a movie marathon. 

“To millions more,” you repeat softly. 

Whether you had 0 followers or 5 million, as long as Sim Jaeyun was by your side, you didn’t mind.

[24-guy]

I spent 2 hours on writing notes from the prison podcast stream.

Now I don’t know what to do with them, so I’m putting them here. 

No need to read them, there is just some interesting stuff I noticed, things like tones and how many times somethings are brought up. 

if you do, though, I apologize  for spelling errors. 

start stream

techno "did the calculations" on how long it would take to mine obsidian with the amount of mining fatigue they had. we knoe this is true.

dream has been writing, it is the only thing hes been able to do with the limited items he has. its his "diary"

techno teases over fanfics on wattpad

"the only thing ive written is my diary" do the revive books not count, then? or what is in the revive books that isnt writing?

techno focuses on that nobody is watching - dream doesnt comment on it - dream doesnt know about the voices?

techno is supposed to break dream out, but he hasnt got many ideas "ill get to it later"

techno enjoys prison - sees it as a vacation

techno has an optimistic outlook.

go with the flow

dream sees harming himself as exhillerating techno disaprooves

dream tells techno quackity has been torturing him everyday. techno is only surprised by the every day part

dream mentions the revive book techno remembers being told about that asks "yeah you can bring people back from the dead. yeah so how do you do that" - curious tone, seems genuinely interested for innocent meanings dream responds " i have.. the knowledge and then i get a book and then i burn it" - hesitant at first, then vague but seemingly honest reponse

techno asks what the knowledge is, incantation/password/expelliarmus dream says "something like that" slowly, then quickly says he doesnt know and that he "doesnt know how schlatt had it" - going away from the topic original book - there are more than one it is a book is what youre saying - t well... i mean, it was a book that i memorised and that now i can recreate - d techno tries again to get the knowledge he wants to revive people dream doesnt want to tell techno because he wouldnt be the only one who knew techno tries to bargain saying that if dream died, techno coulld bring him bacl dream knows they wont kill him because he can revive people

dream says no, techno says "you forgot how to write it down didnt you dream says he didnt, that he did it recently, techno repeats again that dream forgot brings up wattpad again. dream says he wrote it down for tommy. he doesnt mention wilbur to techno. bring up the homeless situaation prison is dreams house cell is boiling apparently makes a joke about cali rent prices

nobody visited the cell "we stopped anarcy" "when we get out of here" no though ahead going into this situation (techno) "just as far as i need to" dream doesnt know what techno means by stream schedule, techno jokes about dream's lack of schedual techno usually trains always looking for new combat, reasearching constant arms race no idea when a government will arise or opressing people is always prepared has a good amount of gear he also plays golf somewhere offers a game with dream no way to describe it somewhere farther than his house

dream asks about tommy techno hasnt seen him canonically, only knows he stole acouple months ago - as far as he tells dream

dream asks about carl carl is doing well

dream asks about the family its doing good, apparently, new foxes, got steve who will break him out dream writes about steve "i will write evrrything down because its hard to remember" another fanfic joke

dream asks whos feeding them they feed themselves its probably fine

milld break for 4 wall break

gist or jist

prison podcast offers, agrees that is all this is

technical difficulties

podcast bros

eating potato

dream offers his thoughts on what would happen of he tried to revive somebody who is alive two technoblades human meat sheild

dream wants to try no death first what could go wrong nothing else to do

techno house is man vs nature conflict floor has ants floof brings ants spilled pet food dream has a revivebook techno tries to read it first hit with book a small wait throw into lava DreamXD joins broke the table fixed table a god dream "cloned himsef" god looks exactly like dream feels like a question to ask earlier dream summoned dreamxd ask for wish ask for bell dream gets mad because no escape dreamxd leaves sellout timer goes off techno makes money as dream questions his life dream sits in corner hole techno aims to be annoying we count channel members for a bit

dream and techno friend bonding time?

summons dreamxd for reviving nobody dream writes this in his diary as techno rings bell tries again, it doesnt work creative mode is a known thing by mortals they know how deadly it is

warden on vacation

techno hasnt written anything he has at least 4 books in his inventory, going from the top 2nd space to the top 5th space. the fourth book is called information and is signed by dream. dream throws a potato in the lava techno asks for the revive book again, this time to see of dreamxd will come back because it is a different person summoning him dream says no

techno needs a bell to sell out for the *brand*, ritual and tradition dream put the bell in church prime no twitch primes for dream - hes a heratic (no contract) dream makes no profit dream has lots of raw potatos for 5-6 months

techno asks if dream has any friends dream says not really, they turned against him techno knows the feeling being betrayed by closest friend happens every tuesday for techno

dream mentions being visited by a few people techno asks if any tried not to torture or kill him dream says yeah like he wasnt expecting the question/(as techno put it) "he hesitated"

sapnap - didnt torture or kill him - but he said if dream got out of there, then he would - techno says hes gotta raise his standards

bad - was the best - treated dream the best - techno says hes a cult leader - dream is surprised so techno tells him about the egg - techno wasnt clear - bad hasnt viseted since 4-5 months ago - techno says even he has friends - egg was attacked - big crossover episode not clear what is going on

techno - last time they saw each other was dooms day - been a while - lot has happened - techno doesnt now whats going on currently on the server - he knows nothing - "people" tell him who died and who came back

tubbo - asks about tubbo - tubbo is chillng - snowchester named - commune - a little sus - dictator - no rushing to conclusions - tubbo has nukes - big crater - a hoby - could be meteor

ranboo - asks about ranboo - ranboo is also chilling - brings up tubo's nukes now

dream points out that techno said he didnt know anyting and then said about a new place, nukes, and a lot more dream doesnt know anything - less than techno

ranboo (again) - dream says he used to visit a while ago and then stopped coming - techno asks "ranboo used to visit?" - ranboo visited "a bit" - probably visited the most - sapnap visited - tommy visited a couple of times - bad visited - and quackity - quackity visited the most, only because hes visited daily

more potatos pog potatos

ranboo (x3) - techno asks how dream knows ranboo - "um... its just a.. long story" - techno replies sarcastically about how they dont have any time to go through it, theyre so busy with the bell - dream "i dont know him very well. he just visited a few times and that was it." - techno just repeats alright, its either bored or thinking - dream "and then i havent seen him since then so thats why i was wondering where hes been, if hes been around" - techno " ah... im not sure. i havent been around fpr like the past couple of months, honestly."

techno went on  atraining montage, played golf

dream asks about the plan to get out mining fatigue 3 doesnt mean they cant break blocks, its just approximately 370 times longer breaking obsidian takes a bit over 4 minutes math = obsidian block gone in 25.7 hours. an alarm break in the right spot break block in toilet elder guardian below the cell techno can take him if techno somehow dies dream brings him back could be out in 2 weeks havent been visited for 2 weeks nothing to lose dream has to break obsidian techno wants to end stream techno came up with idea so dream has to do it dream starts bell ringing for cheerng him on techno sounds happy that dream is doing it voices are mentioned - theyre laughing techno has perfect track of time techno is gonna annoy dream the entire time techno is a lookout there are only 4 books we only see the 4th name floof interrupts momentarily tommy killed a cat because dream liked it 300 dogs in the cell joke

channel member bell dream regrets his life again techo's plan? bell was a better investment dream has 10 bells in e chest techno doesnt techno wanted to go for more so techno could ring bell again

end of stream

[shiberpostshere]

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

7. Chapter Three: Dark History Reunion✨ (Text below images)

Previous Part✨ Next Part✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

The Next Day (05.09.19)✨

The moment Jongho entered Cafe Utopia, he could feel the intimidating energy coming from the table where the much praised music technology senior, Kim Hongjoong and his friend are seated. The person who he texted yesterday, Seonghwa, is missing.

Thanks to San and Wooyoung, he now has an opportunity to befriend them.

He approaches them with heavy steps without realising how aggressive-nervous he's appearing on the outside, the expression that Yeri always mimics to mock him.

They greet him with inviting smiles. The other guy, in burgundy red sweater and black beanie, Yeosang, scriptwriter, offers him the script to read. However, the only thing he can focus on is Kim Hongjoong's mullet.

How can he even pull off a mullet like that? Is it real?

"Your voice sounds bold and clean." Hongjoong leans towards his clasped fingers, a gentle smile on his lips, "You seem a little nervous at the moment but we have enough time to practice."

Yeosang nods, "He has a great control over his voice. I feel like we've finally found someone who'll do my script justice."

Jongho's shoulders rise up with confidence.

"Wait, thank you but does it mean I get to be the announcer?" He looks expectantly at the duo.

Hongjoong settles back, adjusting his glasses. "Of course! I'm honestly surprised at how quickly I could decide."

Yeosang pushes the script further towards Jongho. "Take it with you and practice as much as you can, we'll have discussions and rehearsals before our first show."

"Thank you so much for this opportunity!" He bows gratefully, eyes glinting with happiness.

Hongjoong and Yeosang exchange glances and giggle making Jongho squeeze his brows in confusion.

"You look adorable for someone so well built but you're so tense, relax." Hongjoong winks.

"He IS cute." Yeosang adds.

Jongho is taken aback by their sudden compliments. "I just feel excited to work with you all, I've heard so many good things about you." He confesses.

Hongjoong waves his hand in the air. "The professor only tells you the good things, he doesn't reveal that I don't get enough sleep, it's a trap." He points at his now visible eyebags.

"Don't scare him away before Seonghwa comes." Yeosang says with a side eye directed at his mullet friend.

Jongho is reminded of the missing person, Seonghwa, who he messaged yesterday.

"You were going to bring along someone who's interested in audio engineering? Did they decide otherwise last minute?" Hongjoong asks with a subtly evident worry.

"Oh! Yes, (Y/N) had a class till 5 pm, she'll be here anytime now." As Jongho finishes, the cafe door opens, the bell chiming and indicating your arrival.

The class ended a little later than expected and like a mess, you had collected your things and rushed towards the cafe.

After hitting it off with San and Wooyoung so quickly you feel like you can seize anything at this point except the will to attend classes after only two weeks of college.

Dazzling Night appears like a safe getaway from the continuous routine of being stuck with studies.

"Jongho!" You call out rather loudly, grabbing everyone's attention including the two boys sitting with Jongho, wait does that guy have a mullet?

Your friend gestures you to come, you smile sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I had a class." A little panting can be heard as you speak.

"It's alright, Jongho informed us. I'm Kim Hongjoong, music technology, final year." He offers you his hand and you stare at it for a minute before realising what you're supposed to do.

"Oh right!" You shake his hand. "I am (Y/N), I'm studying law."

The other boy offers you a small smile. "I'm Yeosang, English major, second year."

You return him the same expression as his. "Nice to meet you."

Wow, this is awkward.

"You're interested in assisting our audio engineer, are you aware of any basics?" Hongjoong crosses his arms and you can detect the anime gleam on his glasses while he looks at you, awaiting an answer.

You glance at Jongho then at the two boys. Their gaze is fixated on you intently, emitting strong energy.

You gulp.

Okay, they're strangers anyway (Y/N), keep calm.

"No, I don't know much but I'm interested in learning." You answer honestly, fingers fideling on your lap.

"Can you manage your studies and radio commitments? We don't want anyone leaving halfway through." Yeosang continues his friend's query and suspicions.

Ha-ha, perhaps this was a bad decision.

Jongho squeezes your hand beneath the table.

"Yes, I think I can manage well once I begin, you don't need to worry about me dropping out halfway through." No matter how certain you wish to sound, the way they have their eyes fixed on you causes you to speak in an uncertain tone.

"Okay Hongjoong, we can tone it down now, she looks like she's gonna run away." Yeosang states before sipping his drink. "We just want fixed commitment, Hongjoong is critical when it comes to decisions regarding the show, so is Seonghwa."

Seonghwa? That's a name you know.

Hongjoong clears his throat. "Wait, I haven't used my intimidating voice for a while now, I am sorry if I sound like I'll kill you but I'm just sleep deprived." He vigorously rubs his eyes.

"They called me adorable after intimidating me." Jongho rolls his eyes.

"Now now, young man, watch your attitude." Yeosang comments playfully.

"Could've told me sooner!" You gently shove Jongho, "Also, yes, please tone it down, my left leg is ready to sprint out any moment now." You eye the door and then the mullet guy.

All the boys laugh at your remark.

"Don't worry, if something important comes up, you can leave, studies shouldn't be compromised with but otherwise we want your full attention when working with us." Yeosang smiles warmly at you.

You return to a comfortable state before studying their now relaxed postures. "So? Can I join?"

Hongjoong pushes back his hair. "Of course, if you're up for it but you need to meet the rest of the team. I'm the composer, Yeosang is the scriptwriter. Our team leader and audio engineer are still missing." He checks his ridiculously beautiful vintage watch.

"Okay" You breath out with a chuckle, eyes trailing back to his mullet. Unable to hold back your curiousity about the unusual hairstyle, you ask. "Are you wearing clip ons or is that really a naturally grown mullet?"

The owner of the mullet is taken aback by your question for a moment before breaking into laughter.

"God! I've been dying to ask that." Jongho mutters beside you, doubling Hongjoong's laughter.

You and Jongho blink expectantly.

Yeosang shakes his head, "These kids."

Hongjoong tugs his hair at the nape of his neck, huffing a sigh. "It's a real mullet. You two have been eyeing my hair since ever you came here, I was just waiting for you to ask."

Jongho scratches the back of his neck. "To be fair no one has a mullet these days but you pull it off well."

You nod at your friend's statement.

"What are we laughing about?" A heavy voice grabs the table's attention and you turn around along with Jongho.

An extremely familiar tall boy appears in your vision with another one following behind and your eyes go wide.

No way, no way, no way!

"Hey! You made it! Meet Jongho and (Y/N), our newest members that is, of course if Seonghwa approves." Hongjoong greets them both and the moment he says the name, it clicks in your head.

Park Seonghwa, Horizon High School.

"Hey, we were-" Seonghwa abruptly halts in his tracks.

(Your Full Name), Horizon High School.

You unknowingly shoot up from your seat.

"Um, (Y/N) is everything okay?" Jongho glaces from behind at the newest arrivals.

"Wait!" Mingi takes a good look at you and turns to Seonghwa before he starts giggling to himself, confusing the other three boys seated at the table.

Song Mingi, Horizon High School.

Warmth is taking over your face like a pressure cooker ready to burst merely at the sight of the boy standing in front of you, he too blinks at you as if confirming that you're actually standing in front of him.

"What's the matter? Why do you two look like you've seen ghosts." Yeosang asks whilst Mingi continues his snickering.

The giggling boy takes a seat between his friends, looking at your frozen figures amusingly.

"This is a dark history reunion." He nudges Hongjoong and Yeosang.

"Mingi!" Seonghwa glares and steals another glance at you before taking the remaining seat, the one beside you.

Jongho looks around, lost. "Dark history reunion?"

You turn around and almost slam yourself down on the seat.

Hongjoong and Yeosang are wearing mirrored puzzled expressions.

You clap your hands with over enthusiasm, "I just remembered that I have a meeting with a project partner at the library, I gotta go."

No, you don't.

"No wait, What's going on here?" Hongjoong's gaze continues shifting between you and Seonghwa while you two are busy avoiding eye contact with each other.

"Dark history reunion." The amusement still hasn't faded off Mingi's face and now he earns a death glare from you.

Seonghwa taps the table, grabbing attention. "It's nothing, she's free to leave if she's done."

You get up the moment he speaks.

Oh, this has just become way worse, way worse.

Mingi raises his brow, "What if she's here for the announcer's position?"

"No, Jongho's here for that, Hongjoong already talked with (Y/N), she's free to leave." Yeosang intervenes noticing your sudden urgent movements.

You internally thank him for that.

"I uh, well I think, I think I'll talk to you guys later." You grab your belongings in a big swoop.

"Aw no, you're leaving so soon? We just came here!" Mingi wears a wicked wide smile as he speaks.

"We can talk later, Mingi. It's not like I'm dropping out of college tomorrow! (I just might!)" You answer with a loud, fake laugh, trying hard not to grit your teeth.

Mingi hasn't changed at all. He is as you remember.

"Wait, you two know each other?" Jongho looks at you, his expression demanding an explanation.

"She knows Seonghwa too, very well!" The mischievous one strikes again.

"Oh, Seonghwa and (Y/N) are acquainted?" Hongjoong chimes in.

"Yes we are, we went to the same school." Seonghwa leaves his seat to give you way. "See you later (Y/N)."

You feel strangely assured looking at his stark red ears.

"Oh yes, yes, Seonghwa--" You take him in briefly before looking at the rest, "--and others I'll see you guys later, gotta run!"

Keeping your eyes straight ahead, you walk out of the cafe like you never even went there, half walking and half running towards your dorm room.

Song Mingi, I'm going to get you.

Pairing: College Student! Seonghwa x College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you "borrowed" once a kiss from. Years have passed and it's a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you're to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

A/N: THEY'VE FINALLY MET! What are your thoughts on this chapter? It's been a while since I've written so please excuse any mistakes, I will edit it for sure. Btw I am Mingi, Mingi is me.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 💫

🌸Tags:

@mingiibabieee @enigmaticsal @missiopk @stardusthyuck

🌸

Please do not repost, modify or claim these images.

[theladyofdeath]

Rags & Riches {16}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: I never realize how much I drop “fuck” until I proofread...ah, oh well. 5 chapters left. Do y’all mind when I post 2 chapters in 1 day? yay? nay? I’ll only do 1 if it’s too much, but either way, R&R will be finishing up, soon.

Enjoy (you know, if possible).

Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)

One month had passed since they arrived in Hybern.

They had endured one battle, which lasted two weeks. Many of Hybern’s men went down, but a large number perished from their own side, too.

Even when they relaxed at camp, they were always on alert, always kept one eye open.

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand sat around the fire.

The three of them had created quite the bond, never leaving one another’s side - both in battle, and out. Rhysand had an opportunity to stay away from the front lines because of his title, but he did not. He stayed with Azriel and Cassian, refusing the opportunity without any hesitation. 

“Elain says she should start showing soon,” Azriel announced, the other two looking up from their letters. “She also says morning sickness is getting much worse.” 

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Cassian grinned. “If a little you was growing inside of me, I would probably feel like shit, too.” 

Azriel chuckled. “Yeah.”

Cassian knew that Azriel’s chest ached as he wondered how long he would have to be away. It seemed as if the war had only just begun, but he felt like he had been away from Elain for far too long.

“Any news from Feyre or Nesta?” Azriel asked.

“Feyre says Nesta is being extra bitchy,” Rhysand mumbled. “Other than that, she says she wrote to Elain, telling her to visit soon and their father is finally getting back this week. Oh, and they got a dog. Named him Oswald.” 

“Oswald?” Azriel asked, brows raised. “That’s a….nice….name.” 

Rhysand snorted. “And Nesta?”

They both looked at Cassian, who was reading his letter with narrowed eyes. “She gave me an update on the weather, says it has been raining a lot. I also hear of Oswald, and it is a terrible name, so don’t lie. She said she put a gift in here for me, but there was nothing in the paper.” He looked around for the envelope to put the letter back inside, and once he found it, and opened it up, he froze.

Azriel raised his brows as Rhysand reached for the envelope.

Cassian quickly put it out of his reach. 

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

Cassian put the letter back in the envelope and closed it. “Nothing. A photograph.”

Azriel blinked. “Of what?”

“Hmmm,” Rhysand hummed, leaning back. “Is this photograph of Nesta?”

“You will never know, will you?” Cassian asked.

“Is she nude?” Azriel chimed.

Cassian backed up, toward his tent. “I am going to bid you both goodnight.”

Rhysand howled as Azriel’s grin widened. “Alright. Don’t get too vocal with yourself, no one wants to hear all that.” 

Cassian rolled his eyes as he climbed inside, shutting the tent flaps behind him. He used a match to light his lantern, and his pipe, as he laid back against his blankets, atop the grass. 

He pulled open the yellow envelope, once more, removing the letter and setting it aside as he reached for the other contents. He pulled out a long, silver chain, an oval locket attached to the bottom. When he opened it up, all the tension was released from his body. 

On one side was Nesta, and on the other, was Marigold. Cassian chuckled at the photograph of the horse before brushing his thumb over the one of Nesta. She sat, poised, her chin lifted high. Even in black and white, he could see the intensity of her gray-blue eyes. 

He closed it shut and clasped the chain around his neck, tucking the locket beneath his shirt.

There was another photograph inside of the envelope. Azriel’s guess had not been wrong. Cassian took it into his hands and brought it closer to the lantern, his heart beating wildly. Her hair hung loose around her pale shoulders, reaching just below her breasts, which Cassian admired as he brought his pipe to his lips. Her legs were open, waiting for him, and he suddenly had the realization that someone must have taken such a photo, and wondered how Nesta had swung it without anyone seeing.

He laughed, under his breath, at the thought of Nesta ordering someone around to take a nude photo, only to have it instantly taken away and put in an envelope to ship to him overseas. He turned it over and on the back, it read, I know what you are thinking. Do not worry, Helion helped me with such a project and kept all details to himself. Cassian snorted - knew what he would be thinking, indeed. Then, below, it read, For when you are lonely. At night, this is how I wait for you to return. Hurry back.

Cassian flipped the photograph back over and ran his fingers down the image. She was so beautiful, especially when she was natural, bare. Nothing but the locket in which she sent along, the locket that was now around his neck, covered her skin. The silver oval laid between her breasts. 

He studied her until he could no longer bear to keep still. 

After unzipping his trousers, he wrapped his fist around his cock and began to stroke himself. His head fell back and his eyes fell shut, but the image of Nesta, his Nesta, remained.

~~~~~

Rhysand was eating a bowl of some kind of slop the next morning when Cassian emerged from his tent and stretched.

“Have a nice date with your hand last night?” Rhysand asked, filling his mouth.

“Fuck off,” Cassian said, shaking his head but unable to stop his grin. “Where’s Az?”

“Bringing our letters to the post. They’re going out this afternoon.” 

Cassian nodded, reaching for one of the bowls Rhysand had brought. “Okay, I grew up poor, but even this shit looks disgusting to me...and my standards are fairly low.” 

“At least it keeps us from starving to death,” Rhysand said. “Hopefully.”

Cassian was just about to reply as a bell sounded from the middle of camp. Rhysand quickly met his gaze, his jaw set, as soldiers all around them got to their feet.

Azriel was running toward them, eyes wild. “They’re coming, less than a mile away. We have to go.”

Rhysand swore, dropping his bowl to the ground as Cassian reached for their guns. A moment later, helmets were atop their heads and rifles were tossed across their backs and they were running across the landscape. Once in formation, they marched as one through the valley and halted. Beyond was the battlefield they had already seen, the battlefield in which so many had died around them. Rhysand looked to Cassian on his left. His friend was focused, his breathing even. He had a good shot, if he ever had nerves, he did not show it. Then Rhysand looked to Azriel on his right, who was closing his eyes. Azriel was fast, could dodge anything. Rhysand was not worried about either of them. He would not allow himself to be. They would stick together. They would make it out.

“Stay together,” Rhysand whispered.

The other two repeated, in the same quiet calm, “Stay together.”

~~~~~

“Feyre?” Nesta called, knocking on her sister’s door. “A letter just arrived from Elain. She will be here next week, she says.”

The door was opened a moment later.

Nesta froze.

Feyre’s eyes were red and puffy. “Sorry, I just….” her words trailed off and Nesta pulled her sister into her arms.

“Has something happened?” she asked. “Is Rhysand okay?”

Feyre nodded. “Yes, it’s nothing like that, I just….Nesta, I’m pregnant.” 

Nesta blinked. “Pregnant?”

Feyre laughed, wiping at her eyes. “Yes.”

Nesta smiled, wrapping her arms around Feyre even tighter. “That’s great news. Why are you crying?”

Feyre allowed Nesta into her room before she closed the door. They both sat by the fireplace, on the floor.

“I knew when I last wrote Rhys,” she explained. “But, I did not tell him. Now I feel guilty.”

“Why?” Nesta asked. “Why keep it a secret?”

Feyre nibbled on her bottom lip. “Is it truly better to tell him?”

Nesta’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...would telling him make him happier or just more upset that he is not here?” she asked. “He says he misses me, that all he thinks about is coming home, and if I tell him that I am with child, it would just be more of a burden. I thought perhaps I should wait, until he returns.”

Nesta nodded. “Well, I think you should let him know. He would want to know, considering he tried so hard to impregnate you to begin with.”

Feyre laughed, pushing her sister in the arm. “Perhaps. I do not know the right answer to anything these days.”

Nesta stared at her hands when she said.  “Would you like to know something that will cheer you up? Perhaps make you laugh?”

Feyre raised a brow. “You are going to tell me something that will make me laugh? That seems unlikely.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “In the last letters we sent, I put a photograph of myself inside.”

Feyre blinked. “Why would that make me laugh?”

Nesta could not control her smile as she said, “Because I was not wearing any clothing.”

Feyre’s mouth fell open before she broke into a fit of laughter. “You? Nesta? You sent Cassian a nude photograph?” 

Nesta nodded, her own laughter sputtering out. “Yes. I wonder if he has received it, yet.”

Feyre put her hands over her mouth. “I cannot believe you did such a thing! How was it? Was it awkward?”

Nesta shook her head. “No, Helion took it when he was here last week, in my room. It was actually quite invigorating. I have never felt so….I don’t know. Powerful.” 

Feyre’s laughter died down as she watched the flames. “How very risque of you.” 

“Indeed,” Nesta agreed, then looked at her sister. “I am happy for you.” She nodded toward her sister’s abdomen. “Truly.”

“Thank you,” Feyre said, patting her sister’s knee. “And I am so very proud of you.”

Nesta looked over at her sister and they both broke into laughter, once more.

They were not certain of much lately, but they were certain that when their worlds were full of the unknown, laughter was the best medication.

~~~~~

Cassian had never seen so much blood.

The explosion happened quickly, no one had seen it coming. At the time, Cassian had his rifle pointed at one of the enemy, and the moment he pulled the trigger, as if on que, the ground exploded.

He was knocked on the ground, into the dirt, his ears ringing as he looked around for his brothers.

Rhysand was on the ground a few yards away, but he was already pulling himself up, rifle in hand. 

To his other side, men lay scattered, motionless.

He called out for Azriel, and when he looked back to Rhysand, his violet eyes were wide and panicked. 

“There!” he shouted, but Cassian could hardly hear him. He turned himself around, pulling himself fully off the ground, as he followed Rhysand’s gaze.

Azriel lay still, his gun a few feet beside him, his helmet having flown from his head. He was covered in blood, how much was actually his, Cassian was not certain. 

They were all covered in blood.

Their fellow man’s.

Their enemies.

Cassian and Rhysand ran to his side, sinking down in the dirt alongside him. Rhysand instantly had his back to them both, his gun raised, protecting them. 

Cassian pressed his ear to Azriel’s chest. “He’s still breathing.”

Rhysand gave a curt nod, the only sign he had heard as he pulled the trigger, firing upon any threat coming toward them. 

Cassian found the gaping wound coming from his side and tore open his shirt, where blood was flowing. “Fuck,” Cassian breathed, pressing his hands down on the wound to stop the flow. “Fuck! Rhys….Rhys, we have to get him out of here. We have to get him to medical.” 

“Can you carry him?” Rhysand called, still holding up his gun, not looking behind him. 

Cassian panicked. He was losing blood. So much blood.

He tossed his gun up to Rhysand, who took it and put it around his shoulder without taking his concentration from his own. Cassian quickly pulled off his shirt and tore it into long strips, his helmet discarded. He bundled up a few of the strips and pressed them into the wound, then tied a few together to make it long enough to wrap around Azriel’s abdomen a few times. Once he tied it tight, he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I can.”

“Okay,” Rhysand called. “Let me know when to walk, I’ve got you both.”

The blood was still pouring from the wound, although not as bad.

With a grunt, Cassian lifted Azriel off the ground, carrying him over his shoulder. “Fuck, you heavy bastard,” he groaned, getting himself into a steady position. “Alright, Rhys, I’m moving!”

Then they both were moving, Azriel unconscious, but his heart still beating within his chest, against Cassian’s back. He was heavy, and nearly Cassian’s height, but Cassian did not let himself think of it as he hurried through the gunfire and around those that were already dead.

“Do not die on me,” Cassian grunted, Azriel’s weight starting to slow him down, “Do not fucking die on me. Elain would kill me if I let you die. Do not die, you hear me? You’re going to be a dad, do not fucking die on your kid!” Cassian yelled, eyes still ahead, blurred with tears but determined. “Do not fucking die on me!” 

Rhysand’s gun fired from behind them. 

“We’re almost to the clear!” Cassian called.

“I don’t see many more from Hybern!” Rhysand called back. 

Cassian could feel the warmth of Azriel’s blood sinking through the shreds of his shirt, onto his own skin, down his arm.

He suddenly became lighter a moment later, once they neared the end of the valley. Rhysand, with both rifles slung across his chest, said, “I’ll take his legs, you take his arms.”

Cassian nodded, putting Azriel down as gently as he could among the grass. He put his fingers against Azriel’s neck and swore before putting his forearms underneath Azriel’s underarms.

Rhysand took him beneath the knees and they lifted him from the ground, and they hurried, as fast as they could, across the remaining distance.

When they reached the camp, the medical tent was the first to appear.

They brought Azriel inside and a nurse yelled for a table to be cleared. Rhysand and Cassian put him down, then both stepped back to let the nurses swarm him.

“He’s going to be okay, yeah?” Rhysand asked, face paled. “He’s still breathing? He’s going to be okay?”

No one answered him, which only made Cassian ask, louder, “Just tell us he’ll fucking make it!” 

A nurse pressed her hands against the newly unraveled wound as she said, calmly, “Yes, he’s still breathing.”

“That doesn’t answer my fucking question,” Cassian spat. 

Rhysand met him at his side and started to pull Cassian back. “Let them work.”

Rhysand’s hands were surprisingly calm as Cassian turned to him, Rhys’ face covered in the blood of others and dirt, his hair drenched in sweat and wild. 

“He can’t die, Rhys,” Cassian breathed.

“I know,” Rhysand said, taking Cassian’s face in his hands. “I know, alright? So we have to let the nurses work. Yeah? We have to let the nurses work, Cass.” 

Cassian nodded, and Rhysand did not let go of Cassian’s face until his breathing began to even.

A soldier poked his head into the tent a moment later and said, “Hybern retreated. It is done for the day.”

The nurses gave a sign of understanding and the soldier went away. Cassian had not even heard them coming back, had not even heard the shouts of victory from the outside. 

“You two may stay, if you wish, but you have to sit to the side,” a nurse said, the one with her hands against Azriel’s wound.

Cassian nodded as he and Rhysand went to the side of the tent and slumped to the ground. 

Neither of them spoke as they waited. 

~~~~~

Hours passed, the day had gone and turned into night, and he did not open his eyes. The nurses had sterilized the wound the best they could and sewed his skin shut. He had lost a lot of blood. 

Rhysand looked at Cassian every once in a while, but neither of them said a word, neither of them dared. Cassian still sat with his chest bare, covered in filth, dried blood matting his hair to his forehead. Rhysand assumed he did not look much better. 

The minutes were passing too slowly, it was agonizing. Rhysand had killed more than he thought he would have to since arriving at Hybern. The thought was unnerving, but he tried not to dwell on it. He was protecting himself, protecting Azriel and Cassian. 

“If he dies, how would I ever go back?” Cassian whispered. Face glowing in the lanterns that surrounded them. “How could I stand there, in front of Elain, and Feyre, and Nesta, and tell them that Azriel died?”

Rhysand cleared his throat, his gaze falling to his hands where he began picking off the dried, crimson coat. “I don’t know.”

Cassian nodded, eyes empty. “They have a baby on the way, Rhys.”

“Yeah,” Rhysand breathed, not bothering to wipe away the tear that fell down his tanned cheek.

Cassian shook his head, but said no more.

When the silence became unbearable, Rhysand stood and walked to Azriel’s side. His chest was still rising and falling, his wound closed. Rhysand reached up to feel his forehead. He did not feel feverish. 

“Before we left,” Rhysand began, quietly, “me and Feyre tried, for a baby. Seeing you here now…” his words trailed off and he shook his head. “Elain needs you. That baby needs you. Fight for them, yeah?” he used his torn shirtsleeve to wipe at his eyes, his nose. “If you can hear me, you have to fight for them. Because if it were me in your place, and Feyre was pregnant, that woman would cut off my fucking balls.” 

Cassian stood and joined them at Azriel’s other side. Rhysand knew Cassian was thinking of their conversation on the ship. I wanted to give her a baby, to look at, to love, to remind her of me, if I don’t make it back. 

Azriel’s eyes rolled behind his eyelids, and both Rhysand and Cassian froze. 

“Az?” Rhysand whispered.

Azriel’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stirred, then groaned, softly.

Cassian and Rhysand said nothing as they watched, as they waited. 

Rhysand thought he would collapse once Azriel’s eyes fluttered open and met his gaze. “Rhys. Cass….”

Rhsyand nodded toward Cassian where Azriel’s eyes slowly trailed to. Cassian stood completely still, as if he were afraid to breathe. 

Azriel let out a breath as his eyes closed, once more. 

But his hands found theirs. One in Rhysand’s, the other in Cassian’s. 

“My side…” Azriel began, as if each word brought him pain, “fucking hurts.” 

Cassian, unable to control himself, began to laugh, and when he couldn’t stop, Rhysand started to laugh, too.

Azriel’s hands tightened around theirs, smiling faintly, eyes still closed. 

That battlefield had been littered with the dead, husbands and sons and fathers who would be no more.

But Azriel would not be one of them.

They promised to stay together.

They would stay together. 

At least, for now.

~~~~~

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @mariamuses @a-happybird @amusicalbookworm @manoncrochanblackbeak @alifletcher2012 @candid-confetti @fandoms-everywhere-united @mis-lil-red@littlehoneyybee @abillionlittlepieces @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @awesomelena555 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @tswaney17 @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @rhysandsrightknee @gendryaforthemasses @dayanna-hatter @thebluemartini @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @julemmaes @christiashadows @sleeping-and-books @itsme-malin @agnez312 @cat5313 @amren-courtofdreams @chemica @empress-ofbloodshed @islamonna @illyrianbeauty  @sleeping-and-books @queenofxhearts @sleeping-and-books @aedionashryver-wolfofthenorth @queenofillea1 @mynewdreamwasyou @levivlio @hellolenas @burritowithfeels @that-other-pineapple @girl-who-reads-the-books @raghad-50725@musicmaam @rowaelinforeverworld @negativenesta  @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit@sannelovesreading @nerdperson524 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @nerdperson524 @mariamuses @gorl-power @booklover242 @rowaelinforeverworld @regular-nessian-trash @izou1204 @aelin-rowan-whitehorn @opheliatheemerald @eversincebeirut @musicmaam @ladybookwrm​ @santas-dwynwen​ @starryandbooks​ @candid-confetti​

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste, ch. 5

The Admiration of Kagami Tsurugi Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine, Lila Rossi/karma, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/aneurism, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Plagg & Tikki

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Jagged Stone, Plagg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Penny Rolling, Anarka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois, Wayhem, Nadja Chamack, Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Tikki, Fang, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, original minor character, Alec Cataldi, Lila Rossi’s Mother, Sabrina Raincomprix, Roger Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste’s Bodyguard, Nino Lahiffe, Nooroo

Tags: Lila Rossi salt, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Swearing, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Crack Treated Seriously, Lila Rossi’s Lies Are Exposed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Luka Couffaine Needs a Hug, Paparazzi, Parentification, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Gabriel Agreste Needs an Aneurism, Uncle Jagged Stone, we’re all queer here, the spirit of punk is sometimes just being allowed to be yourself, Kagami Finds Her Groove, punk rock fashion, Savage Kagami, Marinette protection squad, Good Parent Sabine Cheng, Good Parent Tom Dupain, Protective Kagami Tsurugi, Protective Luka Couffaine, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Sharing a Bed, Pet Names, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Instagram, Bullying, Social Media, Anxiety, Makeover, Hugs, will cure your acne, Face Punching, Bad Ass Juleka Couffaine, Rumors, Protective Juleka Couffaine, Protective Adrien Agreste, Lawyers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holding Hands, accountability, mental health, Jagged Stone’s well-paid pet shark, How to Make the Evening News, Sexy eyeliner for days, one fish two fish Lila is a screwed fish, How to have fun and piss Gabriel off, Fuckery, sweet litigious karma, Alya sugar, lawyer shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Schadenfreude, Bad Ass Alya Césaire, Gaslighting, abuse denormalization, Jagged likes his lawyers like he likes his pets: toothy af, Blood in the Water, Everything you didn’t know you wanted and some things you did, Gabriel Agreste is shark bait, Denial, Consequences, Principal Damocles salt, caline bustier salt, the impotence of Gabriel Agreste, snarky Nooroo, lies and the lying liars who tell them, Lila’s brain is a narcissistic hellscape, Lila’s mind is built like an Escher piece, Alec Cataldi salt, Adrien Sugar, wholesome salt, Fu Salt, Kwami Shenanigans, Nooroo is a little shit

Summary: The Admiration of Kagami Tsurugi

Notes: The kids are gonna be alright.

AO3 link

Chapters 1-2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

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

Luka and Adrien’s eyes met after the girls left, and they couldn’t keep from giggling themselves stupid for a bit.

“Thanks for doing this, Luka,” Adrien said when he eventually caught his breath again. “I mean, I know it puts you out a bit.”

That received a shrug. “I really don’t mind. The liar has to be stopped, and if it keeps her from hurting you more, all the better.” He sighed softly. “I wish I’d been able to protect Marinette from her.”

Adrien nodded. “I didn’t expect Lila to get her expelled.”

“She threatened Marinette, as well, don’t forget.”

“What?” His voice sounded hollow to his own ears, and he propped himself up on his elbows. “She what?”

Luka’s eyes widened a bit. “Marinette didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

Adrien thought back on Marinette’s behavior, how she’d started to shrink into herself since Lila had returned to class. She always seemed on edge, jumpy anymore—even before the near-expulsion. If she’d been threatened, no wonder…

“When?” he asked after a moment, letting his head fall back on the sofa cushion.

“She said something about a blinding napkin? I didn’t really understand the context, but…”

He winced. So it had been before he’d given her his stupid advice. He was such an idiot.

“I told her Lila wasn’t hurting anyone.”

Luka gently pushed Adrien’s legs off his lap, then pulled him into a sitting position against his side. “Hey,” he murmured. “You didn’t know. She didn’t tell you. You gave her the best advice you could with the information you had.”

“I still should have… done something. Marinette deserves that much.”

“She isn’t one to demand that sort of thing.” Luka patted his shoulder. “Especially since Lila makes you uncomfortable, and she’s not blind to that.”

Adrien grimaced. “She keeps… touching me. Like she owns me. It’s creepy and invasive and I don’t like it.”

The hand moved away from him then back, like Luka wasn’t sure if this qualified.

“Not you, or Mari, or Kagami. I’m even okay with Chloé. But not her,” he clarified, leaning his head against Luka’s shoulder.

Luka’s hand settled back on Adrien’s shoulder. “Good. The goal is to make you comfortable, not make it worse.”

This was of course the moment Jagged Stone chose to walk back in. “Aw, aren’t you two cute? Time to call the salon, then, get done before the girls get back, yeah? You have a date with dye!”

Luka and Adrien met each other’s gaze and started giggling again.

--

Kagami watched Marinette fidget, a habit she knew from prior interactions was an indication of the girl’s nerves. She often couldn’t help but be impressed by her friend, and this was no different. Clearly Marinette had taken charge to come up with a plan to help Adrien—and had not taken advantage of the situation to become his fake girlfriend.

Which, actually, if Kagami considered, made sense—she would not wish to do that, either. It would be more painful than anything. Marinette had approached the situation wisely.

She was further surprised that they had decided upon Luka as the faux boyfriend, as he seemed to be courting Marinette.

But she had put Adrien above herself, as a true friend would. Truly, Kagami had learned much from her about friendship in their short acquaintance, and she was certain she’d learn more as time went on.

The limo pulled up outside a store that had outfits that looked far more intense than Kagami usually considered viable for her clothing, but in the case of Adrien’s rebellion would likely serve perfectly. She slid out and offered Marinette a hand getting out.

“You’re very kind to help Adrien through this situation,” she noted, hoping to put her at ease. “And I thank you for thinking to include me. I haven’t ever had fun like this.”

The smile she received was almost blinding, and Marinette’s nervousness seemed to dissipate. “I’m glad you’re here, Kagami. It’s always more fun to do a makeover with friends.”

Penny entered the store ahead of them, and Kagami followed with Marinette in tow.

“To be honest, I am not good with choosing clothing,” Kagami admitted. “As a result I often simply wear my school uniform.”

That earned another brilliant smile. “I’d be happy to go shopping with you sometime. Or, I make a lot of my own clothing, and it’d be fun to design something for you.”

Kagami offered a smile in return. “I would be honored to model your designs, Marinette. In the meantime, I look forward to learning as you pick out Adrien’s new look.”

Marinette flitted around the store, choosing several pairs of black jeans, some pre-worn with holes, others with strategic rips or even chains. As the shirt was already taken care of, she looked at different jacket options, eventually choosing one which zipped at a slight diagonal and had a larger silver zipper and fittings. She also selected a black zip-up hoodie with green trim, similar to Luka’s.

Eventually, she made her way to the footwear, seeming torn between a couple of options. Marinette turned to her, holding up two styles. Both were black leather boots that would reach about halfway up Adrien’s calf; the first laced and also had five rather large buckles, and the second not only laced and had three buckles, but were further accented by chains above and below the buckles held in place by fixtures shaped like silver-colored brass knuckles.

“Which do you think, Kagami?”

She was glad Marinette was including her in the process. “Aesthetically, they both seem to have the desired rebellious tone. However, the ones with chains seem a bit impractical, and perhaps too much.”

Marinette nodded, setting aside the pair Kagami had rejected—her opinion, as inexpert as it was, had been valued.

They ended the trip near the jewelry, looking at the various options. A jade-green beaded bracelet caught Kagami’s eye, and when she pointed it out to Marinette it was added to the pile. Marinette found a leather bracelet with a Jagged Stone logo which was also added to the pile.

At the earrings, Marinette paused.

“I know he has pierced ears, since he modeled some of my earrings, but he doesn’t normally wear any…”

Kagami nodded. “Is that not reason for him to do so now?”

“Good point!” Marinette graced her with another smile. “I’m so glad you came with.”

They worked together, and Marinette laughed, her voice ringing out like bells, when she found a pair of black studs with a neon green Chat Noir paw on them. Kagami didn’t quite understand the joke.

“He originally was going to choose Chat Noir’s colors,” she explained. “I guess Chat represents rebellion to him.”

“Ah, so then these are perfect—they allow him to stick with his initial idea a bit.”

Penny was waiting for them, chatting with the clerk, and pulled out Jagged Stone’s credit card without even looking at the price.

“Didn’t take you two long,” she commented as their items were being packaged. “I doubt they’ve finished the dye job yet.”

“Marinette had a vision,” Kagami responded. “She is quite efficient.”

She blushed at the compliment and grabbed two of the bags. Kagami grabbed the third, and they left the store, ready to return to the hotel for the rest of the plan.

[scrunchyharry]

RIP WIP: if you see this post, respond with a snippet of a fic you (sadly) won’t be completing.

So, this inspired me to go through my google drive and unearth this fic that I’ll most likely never finish. I haven’t touched it since March 2014, so, you know. I might as well have not written it myself.

meet this 1950s, Oxbridge, shy librarian worker meets bad boy AU that almost was. the title of this google doc was “kill your darlings - library sexcapades”, so you can see where my mind was. I was in library school, I’d just gone to see Kill Your Darlings in theatres, it was so predictable, really. reading through it earlier, I realize that I used many of the underlying ideas I had for this fic in fondre ton absence, which I first started only two months after I abandoned this one (and I only posted it in 2019, I know.)

I abandoned it because, if I remember correctly, it was only my second ever historical AU (the first one wasn’t in this fandom, it’s a glee fic, if you bully me enough I can provide a link) and I really, really struggled with it, not only with keeping it free of anachronisms, but also relevant to 1950s British culture rather than American culture, which I am more familiar with as a Canadian. I vividly remember panicking when I couldn’t figure out if Brits went bowling in the 1950s, or even now???? we had different problems in ye olde days before the pandemic, hm?

now, of course, I’ve come to love the pain of researching historical AUs, it’s literally the only thing I’ll write, but 6 years ago was a different story. also, I’m not in grad school anymore, so I have more free time. this helped a lot with fleshing out my fics, this whole “no longer being in university” thing (that I say while being 5 years out of university and now only posting a single fic per year).

anyway. enough from me. here’s the fic. it’s 6500 words long and stops abruptly.

Lying awake in his bed, Harry listened to the steady pitter-patter of the rain hitting the windowpane, the yellow streetlamp outside his dormitory room’s window casting distorted shadows on the floorboards as it filtered through the water running down the glass and the sheer curtains. On the other side of the room, Niall was fast asleep, his breathing regular and slightly wheezing from the cold he’d caught playing football out in the rain the day before. Every six or seven inhale, he’d snore loudly, rousing Harry from the half-sleep he had managed to slip into. Staring at the ceiling, Harry was trying to tell the shadows of the bare tree branches from the cracks in the off-white plaster. The room smelled dank like the rest of the building, the wood creaking and beads of water oozing from the walls from the rain that had been plaguing them for close to a week.

Harry turned on his side, wincing as his joints ached in the cold, humid air of the room, Niall’s congested nose asking for the window to be left ajar, which only let more humidity in. His bedsheets were moist and stuck to his skin in a way that made him feel queasy and promised to rob him of sleep for the entire night.

From somewhere down the hall came a peal of laughter, the sound piercing through the still night air and drifting to Harry’s ears. The sound was almost comforting, breaking through the oppressing bubble of his insomnia to remind him that he was not stranded, or alone. There were other people alive, other people asleep in the rooms next and above and below his, and the sun would rise even if it was behind grey clouds, and not being able to sleep was not the end of the world, no matter how it felt as he lay in his bed, restless and exhausted. 

He reached for his alarm clock, the bells quietly chiming as he moved it, and he frowned when he saw that it was half past three. He had to be up in four hours, hours which he knew he wouldn’t sleep. With a final sigh and a resentful glance at the sprawled shape of Niall, Harry rolled out of bed and grabbed his dressing gown, a plaid atrocity his sister had given him as a joke two Christmases past. 

The hallway was quiet as he made his way down to the creaking staircase, holding on to the railings as he went down so his slippers didn’t skid on the polished wood. He nodded at the night guardian reading a library copy of A Christmas Carol, his feet up on the desk by the double, windowed entrance doors.

“I’ve still got two more days to read this, haven’t I?” the man asked, lowering the book to squint at Harry in the dimness of the hallway.

“Three, sir,” Harry replied, hands deep in the pockets of his robe and shoulders slumped forward as a shiver ran through him. He could smell the fireplace burning from the common room and yearned to reach it soon. 

“Greg, give Harold a break, will you? He’s not working right now,” Zayn said, appearing out of the dark hallway and stopping by Harry’s side. “It’s already tedious enough to watch you read a Christmas novel in November, don’t make it worse on us by bothering poor Harry here about his job in the middle of the night.”

With a wink to Harry, Zayn dropped a pack of cigarettes on the guardian’s desk before walking past him again, back where he had come from, a quick nod inviting Harry along. He followed and closed thankful eyes as he crossed the common room’s threshold and was met by a wall of warm, dry air.

“Liam’s nicked logs from the hall across campus,” Zayn explained as he slouched in an armchair by the fire.

“Bless him,” Harry said, sitting opposite Zayn, close to the hearth. He extended his feet and let the flames warm them, feeling as if every crackle eased his weariness from the past few days.

September had been a neverending blur of mixers and social events to try and make friends as quickly as possible before it was too late and you were relegated to the ranks of social outcast. By the time October rolled by, Harry had managed to be late in all of his classes and had found himself locked in the library even when he did not have to work, his entire universe reduced to the dusty smell of books and ushed voices whispering about classnotes and midterms. On most nights he had to stay up well into the early hours, the grey light of dusk filtering through his foggy mind like through dirty glass as he tried to read three novels at once. Now that midterms were over, he had hoped he might be able to sleep while he counted down the days until finals, but he had managed to well and truly mess up his sleep rhythm. 

“No offence, mate, but you look like shit,” Zayn commented after a while, startling Harry out of his most-welcomed doze. 

Rubbing his eyes, Harry let out a small laugh. “Can’t sleep.”

“I know a guy--”

“No, thanks,” Harry cut him, not unkindly. 

Zayn always knew a guy, who knew a guy, whose brother could get you whatever you needed. He himself took nothing, keeping a record as straight as his ridiculously white teeth; scholarship kid, they said. Harry knew better than that, because he was one himself and had never seen Zayn at any of the disastrous mixers the financial aid office tried to organize. Besides, scholarship students were expected to work on campus, which Zayn did not do. He always seemed to be drifting from place to place, black hair carefully styled so that a swirl appeared to carelessly fall on his forehead and jacket nonchalantly hanging off his shoulder like something out of a magazine, without a care in the world. Harry figured it was the sort of attitude you had to adopt when you had a name like Zayn Malik. Not that Harry gave a damn about any of that, but, to put it mildly, it was not because people were quick to point a finger at Germany for what they had let happen that they were willing to face their own ignorance. In short: people whispered, and all of this despite the thick Northern accent that surprised the wits out of Harry the first time he heard it come out of Zayn’s mouth.

“It’s not healthy, though, is it? You should go see a nurse or something about it, you can die from sleep deprivation.”

Blinking slowly, Harry stared at his oldest friend on campus silently for a moment. “I hope you never make it into medical school, you’re going to be a shit doctor. ‘You can die from sleep deprivation,’ you tell the insomniac at four in the morning.” With a long sigh, Harry shook his head. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

Zayn laughed. “Don’t worry, mate, I’ve heard worse. Have you met Louis?”

Harry rolled his eyes at Zayn. “Yes,” he replied despite knowing that this was a rhetorical question. “I know Louis.”

He shifted in his seat. Mentions of Louis had the pesky side-effect of making Harry’s stomach churn uncomfortably. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the curls as he yawned. He watched as Zayn light a cigarette and shook his head when offered one, instead pulling his legs up on the chair and curling up in it, arms wrapped around his knees. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m still up at this hour?” Zayn asked after discarding his cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

Tearing his eyes from the fireplace, Harry blinked slowly at him. “Do you want to tell me?”

Flashing him a wicked grin, Zayn winked. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Harry rolled his eyes again. “I should have seen this one coming.”

“But you didn’t and that’s why we love you, Harold.” Zayn stretched and got up, picking his jacket off the back of the armchair and shrugging it on. “With this, I’m off to bed.” With a pat to Harry’s head, he headed out of the room.

“Goodnight!” Harry called after him before turning back to the fire, resting his chin on his knees with a sigh.

Harry considered following after Zayn for a moment, but the thought of his cold room made him wince. Instead, he carefully placed more wood into the hearth and pulled the armchair closer. He wrapped his dressing gown tighter around himself and then closed his eyes, turning his face to the warmth with a smile as his thoughts drifted through his memories.

The first time he had seen Louis did not technically count as the first time he had met him. His first glimpse of him had been a fleeting one: a knock at the door of his room and the flash of a crooked grin before a sharp voice called Niall out and the door slammed shut. It had been a whirlwind of sights and sounds, there and gone in a matter of seconds, and promptly discarded as one of Niall’s many boisterous friends.

The first time he met Louis, on the other hand, had made a much stronger impression. Harry had been working the counter at the library, alternating between reading a novel he kept hidden under the desk and staring off into space, eyes on the specks of dust as they drifted through the sunbeams pouring in from the tall windows. It had started with a gust of autumn wind sweeping into the room as someone threw opened the heavy oaken doors, causing the occupants of the library to look around in disgruntled curiosity. Harry himself had found himself craning his neck to try and see who was the utter idiot who was entering a library like it was a barn.

Louis had come running at top speed, muddy wingtips squeaking and skidding on the linoleum and his opened jacket flying behind him. He braced himself on a table as he took a sharp turn to the left and headed towards the counter, vaulting it and crouching down before Harry could stop him. He had stared down at him silently, blinking slowly, until the boy had pulled him down by the front of his shirt so he would kneel next to him.

“You can’t stay here,” Harry had said lamely, feeling ashamed of the yelp he had let out as he looked at the red-faced, breathless boy still holding his shirt in his fist.

“Hi, I’m Louis,” the boy had said, letting go of his shirt to extend his hand for Harry to shake.

“You can’t stay here,” Harry had repeated, ignoring his hand. “And I’m Harry.”

“I know,” Louis had replied, smirking. “So, I may or may not have dressed the statue outside the principal’s office in a dress. And I may or may not be currently running away from the school security.” He had paused to look up at Harry with big, pleading eyes. “My life depends on you, Harry. Please, hide me.”

“You--what? Why would you do that?”

Louis had squinted at him, an amused smile playing on his lips. “For fun?”

“Well, you can’t stay here, we--”

Louis had shut him up with a hand over his mouth. “Please, Harold. I’ll owe you one.”

“No, I mean, there’s--” Harry had mumbled against his hand, eyes darting to the top of the heads of the guardians he could see coming closer to the counter.

“Harry Styles, I am begging you, please let me hide here.”

Prying Louis’ hand away, Harry had rolled his eyes. “Shut up and listen to me, there are two guards coming over here right now, you need to run.” He wouldn’t be able to tell what took him, but had he found himself adding, in a quick whisper, “I’ll distract them. Go.”

Louis had grabbed Harry’s face to plant a loud, wet kiss on his cheek before repeating in a rush that he owed Harry his life and running back the way he had come.

A month had gone by since their meeting and Harry still winced with embarrassment when he thought back to it. He had looked like a proper fool in front of Louis, who, it turned out, was friends with all of his friends. He always turned up, no matter what they were doing or where they were going, teasing and joking and mocking, always constantly there in Harry’s peripheral vision. He was a third year, the rumour was that he had the lowest average in the history of the university (which made no sense, considering he still managed to pass his classes; besides, Harry had checked in old yearbooks during a quiet afternoon in the library and had found that a certain Lionel Hearst allegedly had the lowest average back in 1931--chances were that each year had their own Lionel Hearst, and the class of 1954 had elected Louis Tomlinson as theirs), and he was quite possibly the most annoying person Harry had ever met.

And there was another problem, a massive one that was threatening to destroy Harry’s sanity: he was gorgeous. Not your inoffensive “I can recognize that, objectively, Humphrey Bogart and James Dean are attractive males”, which Harry could very easily and comfortably live with. No, Louis was the kind of gorgeous that had poisoned Harry’s mind until it was all his twisted mind could conjure whenever he had what a psychology textbook he found in Liam’s room had called ‘nocturnal emissions’. 

When combined, Louis’ irritating personality and Harry’s inability to get him out of his head were a dangerous mix. One that he never missed an opportunity to use, because on a misguided evening, Harry had made the mistake to go out with Niall and had tragically confessed, over his fourth pint, that he was having unbecoming thoughts about Louis. The news had obviously rapidly travelled all the way to Louis’ ears and now it seemed he had made it his mission to make sure Harry never lived his shameful infatuation down.

Not to mention that, well, he was a boy infatuated with another boy. The same psychology textbook had told him that what he was had a name, and that it was diagnosable, and thus curable, but Liam had walked back in before Harry could read exactly what they meant by ‘aversion therapy’. He hadn’t dared ask Liam, not while Louis was sprawled on his bed, smoking with slow drags and slower exhales, winking at Harry whenever their eyes met. 

Louis had asked what Harry was reading and he had mumbled something about insomnia (which had been his first goal, mind you) and a wicked grin had appeared on Louis’ face.

“You were reading about paraphilias, weren’t you, you naughty boy? Which one was your favourite? I’m quite fond of homosexuality myself.”

Zayn had thrown a wrinkled jacket at Louis at that, saving Harry the embarrassment of having to reply by saying through a laugh: “The shit that comes out of your mouth is astounding.”

“It’s not shit! What’s it classified under, again? Payne, help me out.”

Reciting dully, as if he was used to the question - and Harry suspected he was - Liam had rolled his eyes. “Sexual deviations are under personality disorders of the sociopathic subtype.”

“Thanks, mate. I didn’t understand half the words in there, but I like the ring of ‘sociopathic’, don’t you? It makes it sound so dangerous, so ‘I will kill you in your sleep and then shag your corpse’.”

“Someone’s won the roommate lottery,” Niall had said, earning himself a slap upside the head from Liam. 

This particular exchange, and more specifically the image of Louis talking about sexual deviations while lying on a bed like some sort of caricature of a French painting, was running through Harry’s sleep deprived mind as he hurried to his morning class under the cold drizzle that had replaced the rain. He had managed to get a couple of hours of sleep, but had woken up when the fire was out and the room had turned frigid. Going back to his room, he had collapsed on his bed, only to hear his alarm clock ringing what felt like three minutes later. And now, as he hurried up to the fourth floor on the slippery stairs, he realized with a groan he had forgotten to do the assigned readings for the class.

He took his usual seat near the centre of the lecture hall, unpacking his notebook and fiddling with his pen to keep his mind busy and, more importantly, awake. A three hour lecture on Shakespeare was the last thing he needed at the moment, his eyes unable to focus on the board for more than a handful of seconds before they closed heavily, his entire body jerking back as he drifted to sleep and started to fall forward.

The door opened loudly and Harry didn’t have to look to know who had just entered. He always banged doors opened, making his entrance known as if his presence itself wasn’t enough to get him noticed.

“Harold!” Louis’ voice echoed around the half-empty hall, off the wood-panelled walls and the high, off-white ceiling. He was holding a notebook in his hand, the poor thing in tatters like most of what Louis owned. The usual swirl of hair was falling on his forehead, disheveled in a way that felt more genuine than Zayn’s calculated styling, with the sides ruffled and looking mostly unkempt.

Harry waved at him, shifting in his seat as he watched Louis climb the steps up to where he was sitting and make his way to the empty chair next to Harry. He rubbed his eye and braced himself for the tornado of Louis’ personality.

“Hi, Louis,” he said once Louis was settled. “How are you?”

“I’m brilliant. My day’s always off to such a good start when I get to see you first thing in the morning.” He patted Harry’s knee, a smirk on his lips. Harry swallowed around his dry throat. “You, on the other hand, look terrible.”

“Insomnia,” Harry replied with a shrug, stifling a yawn with his hand. “Nothing new.”

“Yeah, I see that, the bags under your eyes are terrifying.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but then forgot to close it as Louis reached up and stroked a thumb under Harry’s eye, lightly touching the paper thin skin. He could wax lyrical about how soft Louis’ skin turned out to be, or how unexpected the touch was, but neither of those things would be right. The fact of the matter was that being touched, stroked, petted or any other synonym describing fond, affectionate physical contact were common when Louis was concerned. That did not mean that Harry was used to it, and he found himself freezing under Louis’ careful finger, his words dying in his throat. 

“It looks like you’ve got shiners,” Louis said, voice quiet and soft. “You have to take better care of yourself, Haz, or else someone will have to do it for you.”

Louis’ fingers were still lightly brushing his cheek, close to his ear, as his thumb moved back and forth, barely touching his skin, and Harry absolutely could not let out any sound resembling modern languages. Instead, he nodded, remembered to close his mouth, and cleared his throat to try and speak. All of his efforts were ruined when Louis patted his cheek and moved back, slipping lower in his seat and winking at Harry when their knees bumped.

Harry blinked to realize that the hall had filled while Louis was busy making him forget English. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket for his glasses and slipped them on, not missing the pleased noise Louis let out next to him. He glanced at him, frowning.

“Love the glasses, Harold.”

“Me too. They help me see.”

Harry did not particularly consider himself a religious man. He went to church when it mattered and tried not to do unto others what he would not want done unto him, but for the most part, he never really had God at the back of his mind whenever he did something. And yet, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wondered what he had done to anger God. His eyes widened and he felt a blush blooming on his cheeks, his skin burning with the shame and embarrassment of his reply. They help me see, way to state the obvious, Styles. Louis was obviously flirting and the only thing he could come up with was bloody “they help me see.”

Louis let out a bark of laughter, pushing his knee against Harry’s. “Good for you, mate. You wouldn’t want to strain those pretty eyes of yours.”

The professor walking in and setting up his papers behind the lectern saved Harry from having to answer. Harry kept his eyes trained on the front of the class for the first hour of the lecture, pointedly ignoring Louis’ constant shifting and squirming around in his seat. Liam often asked if he had ants in his pants, which usually prompted Louis to let out a vulgar joke about what he did have in his pants. It was better if Harry ignored him, then. He was already struggling to keep up with the deadpan droning of their professor, he didn’t need to think about the way Louis’ thigh brushed against his every time he moved. 

The lightbulb closest to the door kept flickering, the rhythm varying from every other second to one every two or three minutes, and Harry found himself captivated by it. The ventilation buzzed in the background, a low metallic rumble pushing moist air into the suffocating hall. A strand of hair had escaped from his comb-over, falling into his eyes and curling from the humidity. He blew on it, watching it rise and fall and repeating the motion over and over again, until Louis elbowed him.

Harry turned to him, bracing himself for a witty remark that would turn him into a blubbering mess, but instead he was met with Louis’ profile, face set and serious as he had his hand raised in the air. Squinting, Harry turned to their professor in time to see him calling on Louis, who lifted his eyebrows, once, before an amused smile curled up his lips.

“Sir, there is something that has been bothering me since I read through the assigned pages last night. See, I can’t quite figure out what Shakespeare meant when he had Aufidius say: ‘Let me twine mine arms about that body, where against my grained ash an hundred times hath broke and scarr’d the moon with splinters,’ and then later when he adds: ‘but that I see thee here, thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart than when I first my wedded mistress saw bestride my threshold.’”

Louis glanced up from the copy of Coriolanus opened in front of him, several lines underlined in blue ink, to give Harry a wink before looking back down and continuing.

“And when he writes: ‘thou hast beat me out twelve several times, and I have nightly since dreamt of encounters ‘twixt thyself and me; we have been down together in my sleep, unbuckling helms, fisting each other’s throat, and waked half dead with nothing,’ what I don’t understand, sir, is that it sounds to me like Aufidius is courting Marcius, doesn’t it? All this talk of,” Louis glanced down again, “nightly dreams of what sounds to me like some sort of wrestling? All of this leads me to think that there is a certain passion to Marcius and Aufidius’ relationship that you haven’t talked about, yet.”

Louis sat back in his seat, the line of his shoulders disagreeing with the look of candid innocence he had schooled his face into. The entire hall seemed to be waiting with baited breath for their professor’s response, the poor man looking terrified and offended and minuscule in his bulky tweed jacket. His lip quivered, making his grey, toothbrush moustache dance, and he narrowed his eyes at Louis.

“Ignoring Mr Tomlinson’s depraved mind, let’s have a short break. Class will resume in ten minutes.”

Chatter rose around them and Louis shook his head, a look of annoyed resignation on his face.

“I knew he’d do that. I bloody knew it. They’re always too stuck up to address the blatant homoeroticism of the material they assign us.”

Homoeroticism. The word rang in Harry’s ears, filling up his skull and flushing out everything else, leaving him with images of--with images of things he’d rather not put a name on. Of Louis’ lips as they curled into his trademark smirk, of Louis’ spread thighs as he lay on one of their beds, reading out loud from whichever book he had found on the bedside table, of Louis’ eyes and the way they had to always seek Harry’s, but also of older memories. Memories of swimming in a lake with his older cousin as a child and watching the drops of water running down his chest and shimmer in the sun. Locker room memories, a seemingly endless number of them, all strung one after the other in his mind like a neverending series of discomfort and shame as he caught glimpses of changing bodies. Memories of feeling wrong and twisted, an abomination that would bring shame to his family if he said anything.

There was a word for all this, a simple word which Louis uttered like it didn’t carry the weight of the world with it. A word which didn’t sound as ominous as the others did. That word wouldn’t be in Liam’s textbook. That word evoked ideas of art in Harry’s mind, not of therapy.

“Harold? Are you all right? I’ve lost you, here, haven’t I? Wake up, Styles, you’re not in your bed. I understand that it can be confusing for you right now because we all know you see me in your dreams, but--”

“That word you used,” Harry said, cutting him. He cleared his throat and decided it was better to ignore how accurate Louis’ teasing was.

“Which one? You’ll notice I speak quite a lot, so you’ll have to be a bit more specific than that.”

Lowering his voice, Harry leaned in. “Homoeroticism.”

“What about it?”

“It was the first time I heard it. I didn’t know it existed.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about.” Louis patted his thigh with a pout. “But don’t worry, I can teach you. I owe you one, remember?”

Harry let out a strangled noise and looked away so he would not have to see Louis’ smirk.

Harry spent the rest of the lecture in a haze, his mind preoccupied with what he tried so hard to ignore during the first half: Louis’ elbow brushing against his on the armrest, their knees bumping when he moved, the sound of his breathing, regular and deep, the way he tapped his pen against his notebook, the muscles in his forearm shifting as he took notes. By the time his torture was over, he realized with horror that he had not listened to a single word of the entire second half of the lecture and he bit his lip. 

“And they say I’m the worst student this school has ever seen,” Louis commented after seeing the blank page that Harry failed to hide.

“I couldn’t concentrate,” Harry explained as he packed his bag hastily and followed Louis to leave the lecture hall.

“You can borrow my notes, don’t worry.” Once out of the hall, Louis turned to walk backwards, eyes on Harry. “Why, though? Why was Harold Styles, scholarship student, not paying attention in class? Thinking about boys, maybe?”

Without thinking about it, Harry lurched forward to put his hand over Louis’ mouth. “Shut up,” he hissed.

Unfazed, Louis lowered Harry’s hand with his, his expression softening. “So, you were? This is an interesting turn of events.” Looking up at Harry, he frowned. “Oh, you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” At the sight of Louis raising his eyebrow in disbelief, Harry licked his lips. “I’m terrified.” He glanced around, feeling like all eyes were on the pair of them as they stood in the middle of the hallway and blocked the traffic.

Louis nodded and took Harry’s elbow, dragging him along and out of the building. Outside, pale rays of sunlight were peeking through the clouds and the air felt light for the first time in days. Harry tried to avoid the puddles covering the cobblestones while Louis kept pulling him along, mindful of keeping his socks dry even as an outrageously flirtatious man he barely knew was taking him somewhere unknown.

“Do you have work today?” Louis asked over his shoulder as they crossed the campus towards their dormitory.

“No. Where are we going?”

“My dorm.”

Harry stopped abruptly, causing Louis to stumble forward before he caught himself and turned. “Why?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to molest you.” Letting go of Harry’s arm, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I just thought you’d prefer to talk about your innermost secrets in private. Assuming you want to talk about it?”

Harry looked down at Louis for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Louis held his gaze, eyes wide and earnest, almost begging for Harry’s trust. Gnawing at his lip, Harry breathed in sharply and nodded, making the jump, stepping off the edge of the metaphorical cliff and choosing to trust Louis.

A small smile appeared on Louis’ lips, more subdued than what Harry was used to see, and it warmed up the bottom of his stomach in a way that was not unpleasant.

“Very well. Let us be on our way, then.” 

A sense of dread descended upon Harry as they neared Louis’ room. His nerves were setting in, sparking up, exploding in bright flashes of what felt a lot like terror at the prospect of the conversation he was about to have and of its ramifications. Thinking it was one thing, admitting that he was thinking it was another, but voicing it was in the realm of impossibilities. The door shut behind them with a quiet click and then they were alone, shielded. Louis sat backwards on his desk chair and motioned for Harry to sit on his bed before he folded his arms and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Harry, tell me. How long have you known?” His voice was quiet and soft, so unlike Louis’ usual loud squawks that it eased Harry’s nervousness, if only partially. 

Harry found that he could not look at Louis’ face and he let his gaze drift to the wall behind him, hung with pennants in the colours of Liam’s favourite teams. He brought a hand up to scrape his teeth against the knuckle of a finger, a nervous habit he’d been trying to get rid off for years. He could feel Louis’ steady gaze on him and he swallowed thickly, breathing out.

“I don’t know.” He forced his eyes back on Louis, briefly, to see him frowning. “How long have you known?”

“That I’m gay?” Harry winced at the word and it made Louis smirk. “Summer 1943, there was this bloke billeted at a neighbour’s house. He’d pop by to play with my sisters and I some times and I’d seen him almost every day for months, but that one particular day, he helped my mother with gardening and took off his shirt because of the heat. It changed my life.” He chuckled and scratched his cheek. “I was twelve. I spent the entire day in my bedroom, watching him from the window, absolutely confused about what was happening. I thought I was ill.”

“What’d you do?”

Louis shrugged. “I masturbated, obviously. That was a first. What a day.”

Heat spread on Harry’s face, bright red spots blooming on his cheeks at the words, and he muttered a scandalized ‘oh, my god’ that made Louis laugh. 

“Have you never?” Louis asked, giving Harry a curious smile. “Have you really never touched yourself?”

Putting a hand over his eyes, Harry groaned. “Of course, I have, but I don’t talk about it with everyone,” he blurted out, ashamed.

“Why not? You have to stop listening to your minister, kid. It’s perfectly normal, everyone does it.”

Harry shook his head and wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers. He could not remember having ever been as uncomfortable as he was in that instant. His nerves were raw and he felt too hot and too cold at the same time, safe and cloistered at once in the cramped dorm room. Looking at Louis, he found him observing him with a steady expression. Harry appreciated that he was not pushing for answers despite his obvious curiosity. He didn’t feel pressured to answer, but the possibility was there, hanging in the still, humid air between them. It was his choice to seize it and, with a shaky sigh, he did.

“I’ve always had, hum, suspicions that I wasn’t normal. I can’t--” he waved his hands around, “--put words on it, or tell you about specific incidents, but I’ve been having doubts since grammar school.”

“You’re normal.” There was an unexpected fire behind Louis’ words that made Harry frown.

“You can’t be serious. You heard Liam the other day, we’re sociopaths.”

Louis rolled his eyes, digging in his pockets for a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and cracked a match to light it, eyes on Harry through the rising smoke. “Do you feel like a sociopath?”

Harry shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Blowing smoke, Louis raised his eyebrows. “There you go. You’re not. Simple as that. Admitting a bloke needs to have his hands tied above his hands to be able to come, would you say he’s a sociopath?” When Harry shook his head, Louis continued. “But that’s still a paraphilia, ergo he’s mental. We’re not perverts, we just love differently. That’s how I see it, anyway.”

Harry licked his lips and nodded, transfixed by Louis’ verve. “And they say you’re the worst student of your year.”

Louis laughed, sharp and clear, smoke coming out of his nostrils. “I’ve had a bad freshman year and the reputation, sadly, stuck with me. Of course, I’m not a scholarship kid, so I don’t compare.” He winked a Harry.

“How do you know so many things about me? We’ve rarely spoken.”

Louis laughed again, but the sound was softer, more intimate, in an odd way. “Well...” He rubbed the back of his neck, discarding the butt of his cigarette in a dirty ashtray on his bedside table. “I asked around. You helped me a lot when you befriended Zayn.”

Harry shifted on the bed to rest his back against the wall, kicking his shoes off quickly to pull his knees up against his chest. “Why?”

Louis’ eyes widened, almost comically, before he shrugged. “Curiosity. You looked interesting.”

[hannybkpop]

Noona, Can’t we be more than friends? PT. 1

HAN JISUNG AU  / Fluff?

(this is my first one shot don’t hurt me)

“Noona” you can hear Jisung from across the room but don’t bother to look up. 

“Noona~” he says with a little whine added to get your attention, he knows you can never say no when he does. You decide to look up at him but he seems to be looking down drawing something on a piece of paper.

“Why call my name if you have nothing to show” you roll your eyes and start looking down at your own book. 

You are currently at lunch hanging out with your best friend, Han Jisung. You have known him since you were 5yrs old and he was 4. Nothing has ever came in between you guys and go everywhere together people always say you guys are dating. But that’s not the case here, you guys are just best friends you cant think anything other wise, He has just been someone you could rely on.

“Look Here! You wont hate it, i swear” He says as he puts the paper to his chest with his left hand and raises his right to the air. You can hear him giggle a little bit to himself and you cant help yourself but smile.

You look up to see what he drew, and to your surprise it was blank.

“so what am i supposed to be looking at?” you ask puzzled.

“Oh! oops wrong way” he laughs to himself and turns the paper facing the correct direction. 

It was a beautiful drawing of a Rose, it was red with a hint or a dark maroon. You were always amazed at how good Jisung was at Drawing and how fast he could do it as well. Meanwhile you love reading romance books and wouldn’t have it any other way.

The bell rings signaling the end of lunch and its time to get ready for class. You sit through the rest of the school day wondering what Jisung and yourself were going to do.

The end bell rand and everyone was getting ready to leave.

“So what are we doing today? Arcade, karaoke, all you can eat buffet?” jisung asks while packing his books in his bag.

“Can we tag along?” you hear Hyunjin ask while holding on to Chan and Seungmin. 

“Sure! the more the merrier” you respond. “I think today we might go to the arcade and then to grab dinner, lets head home and get ready and we can meet around 5. sound good?”

Everyone nodded their heads in unison. You grab your bag to start heading out and you can hear Jisung leaving with his friends out the door. There was something about today, Han seemed different, was it the way he was calling you noona? you couldn't help thinking to yourself and it was bothering you but what was this feeling you keep having. You decided to brush it off and blame it on the book you were reading.

It was 4:45pm you were wearing dark blue skinny jeans with a black crop top and white lifted shoes. You wore your hair down completely straightened parted down the middle and with very light makeup.

“I think im all set” you say as you check yourself through your mirror.

“Ill be back, im going to hang out with Jisung and some friends”, you yell out the door heading towards M Arcade. 

You arrive to the arcade and see your group of friends standing out front. Jisung stands out from the all. He is wearing Black and white skinny jeans with a big black over-sized shirt tucked in from the front and a black cap. Jisung looks up at you and you both make eye contact. he couldn't help but blush at the sight of you, but you do the same. You both look away from each other.The guys cant help but laugh at the situation and you glare at them.

“Lets go inside before the arcade closes, and don’t forget we still have to go eat” Jisung says half way through the door.

“So whats going on between the two of you?” Seungmin asks with a smirk.

You hit him with your elbow as you walk inside brushing off his little question.

You guys decide to play a round of bowling and couldn't help noticing that Jisung Was Watching you the first few rounds. It made you so nervous you kept getting the ball in the gutter and everyone was laughing at you. It was finally Jisungs turn again and you decided to get back at him. You got up and walked to the little air socket where you dried your hands if they started sweating. You kept and eye on him and as soon as you saw him let go of the ball you called his name.

“Jisung-ah! look!” you say as surprised as possible.

He slightly moved his hand the and the ball ended up going towards the gutter

“Noona, you made me miss this strike i was about to get” he says as he turns around to look at you while crossing his arms across his chest.

“sorry, but like this air feels amazing on your hands and i wanted you to try it. Maybe it would help you stop starring at me, not like it has anything to do with it.”

Han looked at you confused but intrigued at the fact that him starring was bothering you. He started to smirk and he made eye contact with you.and wouldn't break it. You didn't want to back down so you kept that eye contact until you heard someone in the background.

“Excuse dear love birds but we would like to keep the game going” Chan said from the back. His little statement making both of you guys nervous and looking away. But that didn't mean Jisung was going to stop anytime soon.

The game went on for a couple more rounds and you and Jisung kept trying to distract each other from making a strike from calling out each others name to slowly to using the snacks you ordered. The game finally came to an end and Seungmin took first then Chan, yourself and jisung lost to you by a point.

“ I tried so hard and this is what i get, i lose by a point” Jisung was pouting and looking your way trying to get pity from you. But you should laugh at him since it was his fault it all came down to this.

You guys decide to head to the arcade part of it all and play a couple games you both decide to compete against each other at basketball.

“Bet you cant beat me” Jisung says while looking at you.

“Bet $20 dollars i can” you respond with a smile.

“Lets make this a little more interesting and whoever loses has to do whatever the other person wants” Jisung says with a smirk.

You don’t know what Jisung is thinking but you couldn’t back down now that something even bigger was thrown on the table making things more interesting. something in you knew what was about to happen but that wasn’t going to stop you.

“Deal, loser has to do whatever the other person says” you agree to his terms and shake hands. 

Both of you guys were so focused on each other you forgot about Chan and Seungmin tagging along, but they didnt mind at all since they wanted to finally get you guys together.

the basketball game started, Jisung was making in shot after shot while you were making every other one. you Knew you didn't want to lose because having Jisung do whatever you wanted Was Something you never thought of but liked the idea. Yet Jisung was trying his best to win but Why? What are his motives?

You lost by three points and Jisung was cheering in the Corner happy at the thought of winning and then you notice him look at you his eyes so mysterious making you wonder what Jisung had in store for you.

This was a side of him you have never seen before but something about it intrigued you to find out more. Which made you think to yourself do I like him?

“ Hey, are you okay? does it hurt to lose?” you can feel Jisung teasing you wanting to rile you up.

“Don’t worry I wont do anything to embarrass you I promise” He says as he walks up to you.

He kept walking closer until his face was an inch away from yours, both of you guys making eye contact not breaking away from each other. You could feel your heart beating faster and faster. Not knowing what this feeling was but intrigues by the fact you could be in love with your best friend.

“Are you ready for whats going to happen next?” jisung asks while a big smirk comes across his face.

Thank you for reading this far! this is my first every written fan fiction so if you guys have any pointers or things i could work on feel free to comment down below or DM me. I accept constructive Criticism but if you are going to be plain rude please keep scrolling. Thank you

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (16/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: If you like, read, kudo, comment, tag flail, reblog, or anything else, I see you, and I appreciate you! Honestly, it’s the coolest thing how many of you are out there, and every time I find out someone else has been reading, my heart grows Grinch style ❤️

We’re off to London in this chapter and the next one! Fun fact: the Yankees and Red Sox really did play a series in London this year! 

AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

“This is weird,” Will mutters as they walk the unfamiliar hallways of London Stadium on their way out to the field to practice. “I’m not used to being unfamiliar with a place where we’re about to play, and I swear that I’m still jet-lagged. Why did they think we were going to get used to the time change in one day?”

Instinctively, Killian wants to get onto Will about complaining since that’s become his thing as of late, but every point that he’s made is valid. It’s weird to be in a place that he doesn’t know. He’s familiar enough with half of the baseball stadiums in America to be able to give a tour like he made the blue prints for them, but they are decidedly not in America.

They’re in London.

To play the Red Sox.

So. Fucking. Cool.

His job awards him more opportunities than he ever could have dreamed about as a kid from Ohio, and while he’s had the opportunity to travel to Mexico and Canada, he’s never been overseas like this. He meant to go years ago, but then the accident happened and all of his plans went down the drain. He could have gone then too. He had all of the time in the world on his hands, and he squandered it by sitting on his ass and not traveling or doing all of the other things he’s always wanted to do.

He’ll have all the time in the world when he’s retired.

Woah, no. That’s not happening anytime soon, and he is not going down that road when things are going so well right now.

They’re going to kick some Red Sox ass even while in England.

His family didn’t fly all the way over here on vacation just for them to lose. Addy and Lucy would be very disappointed in him if they did because he knows for a fact that they only care about being here for the baseball and Addy’s birthday party tomorrow.

All of the cool kids turn six in London, obviously, and Addison Jones is the coolest of the kids.

It’s all she’s been talking about for weeks now, going on and on about how she was going to have an English birthday party and be English like Peppa Pig and Meghan Markle. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Peppa Pig is animated and that Meghan Markle was technically American first, but some things kids just don’t have to know. All she knows is that a real-life prince and his wife are going to be at the game today, and she thinks that’s the coolest thing in the world.

It kind of is even if he had to study a protocol list for when he met them earlier in the locker room.

Killian’s life is so goddamn weird, but he loves it.

The fact that Emma got to travel here as well, even if she’s not doing on-camera coverage and is simply here as a print journalist for the team, makes it all the better. He may not get to see her on-field during the game, but he’ll see her afterwards.

Hopefully.

They haven’t been here long, but it’s already difficult to find time away from his family to see her, even if it’s only for a moment.

He’d give anything to have those little moments.

“I have no idea,” Killian yawns, finally responding to Will as they push the doors open and walk out to the field. He can tell that the set-up is going to throw him off, the way the stadium is equal on every side, and that the AstroTurf feels odd below his feet. But that’s why they practice. “We’ll suffer through it, and drink lots and lots of coffee.”

“I think they drink tea over here.”

“I believe that they drink coffee too. You want to start in the outfield and work our way back in?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

The two of them are quiet as they take it all in and try to get used to this new place. Music blares over the speakers, and the rest of the team filters in and out as they go through their warm-ups. He’s not sure if he really needs coffee for how hyped up he is to be here and to be playing their biggest rivals, and the crash of caffeine always seems so inevitable. The crash of adrenaline, not so much. Most of the time.

It’s a quick warm-up, one that doesn’t extend too much effort on his part, and his shoulder is feeling loose after the massage Archie gave it. They’ve won each of their series against the Sox so far this season, and he doesn’t plan on that changing now. When they finally travel to Boston next month, sure. But not today.

No part of him should be thinking this, especially with how unreliable his arm can be, but they’re playing so well this season that he can’t imagine them not making the playoffs and then being in the final two.

They could be back-to-back World Series Champions.

But that’s very much counting his chickens before they hatch, and that always leads to disappointment.

He simply can’t go there even if his brain keeps trying to.

“You guys make any wedding plans yet?” he asks Will as they walk back infield to practice a few pitches on the mound.

“We’ve been engaged for exactly a week, so no, we haven’t made any official plans. Belle has all of these ideas, though, and she’s been talking through them with her parents. Honestly, I think we may get married in December or January of this year since she doesn’t want to do it during the season.”

Killian nods his head in agreement as he tucks his chain back into his uniform from where it had fallen out. “That makes sense. It’s always hell trying to plan anything during the season. Even making dinner plans can be difficult.”

“Well,” Will says, clicking his tongue, “it’s not like you have anyone to be going out to dinner with. We don’t count. Neither does Liam.”

A protest is on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t say anything, not yet. He and Emma are going to talk about that after this trip, and even if they do, he’s not sure he’ll be able to tell Will. He should. Will and Robin. And Eric and Ariel. But no one else on the team. It’s just too risky.

That might put a damper in his plan to kiss her before every game.

But the time will come. It has to. And baby steps are fine with him when they mean that steps are happening. He completely and totally understands Emma and her reasons for not wanting their relationship out in the open, and he agrees. It’s better for her, for both of them, and they’ve only been together for two months. In the grand scheme of things, that’s not that long. It doesn’t matter that he fell hard and fast. That doesn’t escalate things.

It just…complicates his feelings.

This thing won’t be hidden away forever, not if they want any kind of future, and while he’d never presume to speak for Emma, he damn well intends to have that future.

“I could be dating,” Killian scoffs at Will who only rolls his eyes in response. “What? I could.”

“Nothing,” Will shrugs, taking position behind home plate. “I’m just saying, for a man who everyone thinks is going home with a new woman every night, you are particularly lacking in the women department.”

His jaw ticks, and he’s not even sure why. He’s never minded talking about his relationships in the past, not to Will, but it’s probably the lie. Of course it’s the lie.

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Will grunts as he throws the ball back to him, a light thwacking sound hitting his glove. “Do whatever the hell you want. I’m not someone to tell you what to do with your life. I’m just saying, I’m much happier having Belle be a part of my life.”

“Look at you being all sweet.”

“I have my moments.”

“I’m totally giving a speech at your wedding about the night that I kept you from throwing up on her.”

“I would have expected nothing less from you. In fact, I’ve already warned Belle. It was in my proposal speech.”

“Shut up, you asshole.”

“Never. I know you love the sound of my voice.”

“It is rather dreamy.”

“You two are talking too much to be practicing,” Eric huffs as walks toward them with his bat in hand, fiddling with it the slightest bit. “What are we talking about?”

“Killian’s lack of a love life.”

Eric grunts at that, eyes scanning between the two of them. “That sounds like a conversation that I don’t want to be in because Ariel will somehow know and insist we talk about it later. She’ll have you set up on ten blind dates before midnight.”

“It’s in my contract that she can’t meddle in my dating life.”

“Really?” Eric and Will ask at once, their eyes going wide.

“No,” Killian chuckles as he stretches out his shoulder and bends his legs a bit, squatting down to stretch out some more, “but sometimes I wish that it was. Where has she been all day, by the way?”

“She’s helping set up Addison’s birthday party for tomorrow, apparently. She’s somehow gotten them a separate suite here, and they’re doing some sort of tea party during the game. You have even been given express permission to sit with your family instead of in the dugout with us.”

Of course. He could have done that anyways, but leave it to Ariel to make sure that there is no way in hell that he’s missing his niece’s sixth birthday party. She is pure magic, that woman.

“Your wife is something else,” he chuckles, deciding to step closer to them so that he doesn’t have to shout, “but you guys know that Addy is fully going to expect all of you to show up at some point.”

“Her present is in my suitcase.” Will smiles as he says it with a slight shake of his head. “I could never forget my biggest fan since Roland seems to betray me on who his favorite player is every week.”

Killian clicks his tongue. “Eh, just to be clear, I’m Addison’s favorite player. I’m not letting you steal that title from me.”

-/-

Killian spots Emma sitting nine rows up behind third base when they’re in the second inning.

She’s wearing a jersey…his jersey, and when he notices it, he nearly pegs Johnson with a ball.

Holy fuck.

It sends blood straight to his groin, and the only thing that stops it is him thinking about Emma making a joke about him having a boner on the mound. She’s so ridiculously funny in her bad jokes, and it brings a smile to his face that he has to control as he focuses on the game. He can’t be losing it when he’s in the middle of a game.

But damn. His girlfriend is wearing his jersey, his name and number printed on the back, and she’s got a baseball cap pulled low over her forehead with her blonde ponytail sticking out behind her. He wouldn’t have recognized her if he didn’t know every inch of her body.

He’ll play in London every day of the week if it means Emma can watch as a semi-spectator without anyone recognizing her.

A bloody siren. That’s what she is.

-/-

They win that night.

-/-

After the game when Emma walks into the locker room, her phone in hand for questions, she’s not wearing the jersey anymore. It’s been removed, and she’s wearing a black blouse that’s low cut enough that he can see the slightest bit of the cups of her bra. He’d bet that she didn’t think through having to remove his jersey when she got dressed, but he doesn’t mind how she looks.

He never does.

(She wore his fucking jersey.)

Except he can’t do anything about it but smile and answer her questions as well as everyone else’s. It’s a bit odd for her to not have Jeff following her around with the camera, but he knows that this means she’ll be writing an article instead. She’s always loved that.

Once all of the press members ask their questions, most of them British journalists, they filter out of the locker room, leaving everyone to strip out of their uniforms and move to take a shower. He’s taking off his belt when Arthur speaks, and his fingers still over the leather.

“I don’t know how any of us aren’t fucking Emma,” he grumbles, and the words make disgust drip down Killian’s spine. “Have you seen her body? I bet she’s fucking amazing in bed. I’d fuck her in a heartbeat. Damn am I glad women work in baseball now.”

The room goes silent, every man stopping what he’s doing, and Killian has words on the tip of his tongue but can’t say anything because Will is already talking.

“Fuck off, King,” Will curses, throwing his gear down on the ground. “I mean, seriously. What the bloody fuck? How shitty do you have to be to talk about someone like that? I knew you were an ass, but God, that’s next level. First of all, you’re fucking married, and even if you weren’t, that woman is a human being. You don’t get to talk about her like that.”

“Oh, come on, man. We’re all thinking it. Did you see her boobs just now? It’s nothing to get riled up about.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Will huffs as he crosses his arms over his chest. “The fact that you don’t realize that is just plain sad. She’s not coming in here to get ogled by you. She’s coming in here to do her job, and she’s damn good at it.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, and Killian’s blood boils even more. “Jones asked her out. How is that not the same thing?”

“Because he didn’t ask her out because he thinks of her as a sex object,” Will spits all the while Killian can barely hear any of this from the way his heart is thumping between his ears, a drum beat that’s louder than anything he’s ever heard.

Arthur darkly chuckles, and it’s that sound that has the drumline stopping so that his eyes snap over across the room. Killian didn’t even realize that he was clenching his fists, but when he looks down, he can see the red imprints of blood from where his nails were digging into his skin.

“Jones,” Arthur yells, “aren’t you going to back me up here? Isn’t she a fine piece of ass?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Killian yells before standing from the seat in his locker, quickly striding across the room until he and Arthur are eye-to-eye and completely lined up. Arthur’s got this disgusting cocky grin on his face, one that makes unpleasant chills run down his spine, and it’s taking everything in him not to punch the ever-loving shit out of the man. “Will is right. You’re an asshole, and you can’t be talking about her that way.”

“Why do you care so much? What, are you fucking her?”

And that’s when his first rises and slams into Arthur’s jaw, a sting spreading through his knuckles and up to his elbow. The drum starts beating in his head again, his heart pumping blood through him faster than normal, and everything is a blur as he moves his head to dodge Arthur’s punch and as someone grabs onto elbows and pulls him back and out of the room all the while a screaming match goes on in the locker room, every word muted to him except for the one name that keeps getting repeated.

Emma.

“Are you insane?” Robin gasps, and when Killian looks around, he can see that he’s been pulled off to the weight room that they’re using in this stadium. He didn’t even know Robin was in the locker room at the time. “You can’t punch Arthur no matter how big of an asshole he is. You’re going to fuck up your arm, and you can get suspended for weeks.”

“I don’t really care about either of those things right now.”

“Well you should,” Robin huffs, running his hands through his hair as he paces back and forth over the carpeted floor. “He’s an asshole. We all know that, and I wanted to punch him too…but you just can’t, mate. He’ll get his due, and it won’t come at the cost of your career.”

Robin is right. Robin is always right, but how is he supposed to sit there and let Arthur talk about his girlfriend like that? How is he supposed to let him talk about any woman like that? He simply can’t, and even though his knuckles hurt like hell right now and Archie is most definitely going to kill him, he doesn’t regret it. He can’t, and he’d bet that Will doesn’t either.

“Fuck,” Killian mutters, sitting down on a weight bench and burying his face in his hands as he tries to flex some of his fingers out. “Dammit. This isn’t how today was supposed to go. I’m not supposed to be punching our outfielder in a locker room in fucking London. I’m supposed to be enjoying my time and sipping tea at my niece’s birthday party because I’m this good guy that she looks up to when really everyone is a piece of shit.”

“Dramatic much?”

“Shut up.”

“Never,” Robin laughs as the door opens and Al stumbles inside, his long dark hair pushed back behind his ears and his tanned skin painted red in what Killian hopes is a sunburn and not anger.

“What the hell, Jones?” Al screeches, waling right up to him so that the tips of their shoes touch. “You punched King? With your right arm? What is going on in that head of yours?”

Killian groans, already ready to have his ego bruised and his career kicked by a man who is only four years older than him, and he straights his back so that Al isn’t look down at him as much as he should be.

“Are you in here to suspend me?”

Al’s brows furrow together. “What? No. Why would I suspend you?”

“Because I punched Arthur?”

Al waves him away, backing up the slightest bit. “No, I’m not going to suspend you for that. King can be a piece of shit sometimes, and I heard some of the stuff he was saying. He deserved that. My team are not going to be a bunch of sexist assholes who talk about our reporters that way. I can’t guarantee that there won’t be some kind of league suspension, but I doubt King takes it anywhere since then he’s had to explain the stuff he was saying.”

“Then why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you punched someone with your pitching arm, and I can’t have you messing up your arm again. Go see Archie right now, and get some damn ice on the thing.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Killian mock salutes, his head still spinning with everything that’s happened in the past fifteen minutes.

He takes it back. His life isn’t weird. It’s batshit crazy.

-/-

Ariel has been yelling at him in his hotel room for the past fifteen minutes. This is after Liam and Elsa yelled at him for twenty minutes, each, and he’s so damn tired of having to listen to this. He’s aware of the fact that he could have messed up part of his season today, but he still doesn’t regret it. He could have made better choices, yes, but Arthur deserved it. And he’s fine. He’ll probably only have a slight bruise. The only significant damage is the fact that their already frayed relationship that only truly exists because they’re teammates and his wife is friends with Ariel is pretty much destroyed now. That’s fine with him. He doesn’t want anything to do with the asshole.

And he has no idea what he’s going to tell Emma about this. His knuckles have cuts and bruises on them already, his fingers aching when he stretches them out, and if she comes to his room tonight, there’s no way in hell she’s not going to notice.

Maybe he should cancel on her.

He doesn’t want to cancel on her.

He wants to spend time with her and simply be in her company, maybe even get to figure out the subway routes (or should he call them the underground here?) and find a secluded place to go out to dinner. But he’s got to explain his hand, and he’s really not sure how lying is going to go here.

Lying to Emma really isn’t his best idea, so he most likely shouldn’t do it.

“Are you even listening to me, KJ?” Ariel huffs, stopping her pacing and placing her hands on her hips. “You look like you’re not listening.”

“I’m not.” She reaches up to slap the back of his hand, but he grabs her wrist to stop her, putting it back by her side. “I’ve heard all of it before, okay? And I’m going to hear it again. I know, I know, I fucking know. It was dumb, but I couldn’t stand by and listen to that. Will couldn’t either, but he’s got enough brains to know better than to punch someone.”

“That is not a sentence I ever thought you would say.”

“Life is funny like that,” Killian chuckles before falling back against his hotel bed. Whoever is booking their hotel rooms this year obviously has no sense of a budget because he hasn’t had a roommate once. It’s glorious. “A, I have no idea why you care about me so much. I’m such a pain in your ass.”

“Yeah,” Ariel sighs, sitting down next to his shoulder on the bed so that she can look over at him, her red hair framing her face, “you are, but I love you, so I don’t mind too much. And you give me something to focus on other than my idiot husband.”

“Please, you and Eric have one fight a year, and it lasts about five minutes.”

“I’ll have you know that we fought just yesterday over what to have for dinner. It was a real battle. I nearly punched him, but I had enough sense to stop myself.”

His eyes roll, but he can feel the smile stretching across his lips as he twists his head to look at Ariel. “I love you too, by the way. You and Elsa and Anna are pretty much the three sisters I never had. And you’re much nicer to me than Liam ever was.”

“Please, Liam is your hero.”

“Yeah, but when I was eight and he was sixteen, I was not his favorite person in the world. I think you guys would have been much nicer to me.”

Ariel’s lips flatten as she nods her head, sarcasm practically penned across the lines on her forehead. “Sure, sweetie. That’s what would have happened. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She simply arches her brow. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a shitty afternoon. As long as I don’t get yelled at anymore, I think I’ll be perfect and ready to go for Addy’s birthday party tomorrow. Thanks for setting that up, by the way. I think you may actually be magic for how you convince people to do your bidding.”

“I know,” she says, a grin plastered on her lips. “I’m pretty much the best. Do you want to come and get dinner with me and Eric?”

“Raincheck on that one?”

“I’m holding you to that this time,” Ariel sighs, patting his shoulder before she rises from the mattress. “Keep putting ice on your hand, and doing your stretches. We’ve got a long season ahead of us, and you are not allowed to mess it up.”

“Understood, love. Have fun at dinner. Feel free not to yell at me tomorrow even though I know that you will.”

Ariel waves him away before picking up her purse and walking out the door while he stays stretched out on his mattress, wondering if he can convince whoever owns this hotel to send this mattress and these sheets to his apartment because it’s glorious. Maybe it’s not really and it’s simply the fact that he’s still jetlagged and has had an extremely long day, but he doubts it.

This is the best comforter in the world.

And he’s never going to move from it.

So, of course, there’s a knock on his hotel door. Of course.

Groaning, he pulls himself up to rise from the bed, the muscles in his backing aching the slightest bit, and steps over to the door, checking the peephole and finding Emma on the other side. He should have known, and honestly, of all of the people seeking him out tonight, she is his favorite.

Until he opens the door, lets her inside, and the first thing that she does is hit him in the chest.

What the hell?

“What the hell?” Emma fumes, echoing his thoughts. “You punched Arthur King today?”

Bloody hell.

Bloody hell? Is he British now? How long has he been using that phrase and hasn’t even realized it? This is what he gets for hanging out with Robin so much.

“Aye,” he sighs as his unbruised hand immediately goes up to scratch behind his ear. She doesn’t look angry, the same soft smile that’s usually painted on her face still there, but there’s fire behind the green of her eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“Belle told me.”

He arches a brow. “Belle?”

“Yeah, I ran into her when I was leaving the stadium, and we got to talking and she starts telling me all about you and Will getting into a fight with Arthur over me. I mean, seriously, Killian. How could you be so dumb to punch him? You’re lucky you didn’t fuck up your arm and that you aren’t getting sanctions against you.”

He should really start putting money on how many times he can be told that in one night. He’s betting at least once more tonight and then seven times tomorrow.

“Swan, I know, okay? I promise you I’ve already had my head chewed off about this enough times. I get it, but he was being an asshole and deserved it. Will confronted him first going on and on about how he was a sexist pig, and then Arthur brought me into it by asking how him talking about wanting to fuck you was any different than me asking you out on a date. Then I told him to stop, which only escalated into him asking you if I’m defending you because I’m fucking you. And obviously, I am, but that’s not why I was defending you. He doesn’t get to say shit like that about anyone, but especially not you.”

He releases a breath when he finishes his ramble, which is really only an abbreviated version of the events, but he’s going to lose his mind if he has to go through it one more time. Seriously. But the way Emma’s mouth keeps opening and closing, the right words obviously not coming to her, has him rethinking this and starting from the beginning. It’s not pretty, but she deserves to know.

“You, Killian Jones,” she laments, stepping closer to him and wrapping her arms around his waist in an unexpected move so that he can smell the vanilla of her perfume, “are an idiot asshole who I’m still very much mad at for messing with your hand like that, but I’m also thankful that you and Will didn’t let someone talk about me like that. I’ve been through so much like that already, and I’m glad I have you guys on my side.”

“You have everyone else in that locker room on your side, love,” he says as her rubs his hands up and down her back and rests his chin against her temple, twisting his head to the side so that he can press his lips into her hair. “Me most of all. Then Will, I’ve discovered today, and everyone else is somewhere in there, rankings improving as long as I’m always at the top.”

“You’re so stupid,” she laughs into his chest, the vibrations of it running through him.

“I’ve gotten that a lot today, but you obviously like me a little bit since I saw you wearing my jersey.”

Emma pulls back from the hug to look up at him, a bit of red painting her cheeks. “So, you saw that, did you?”

“I did. I have an eagle eye for my biggest fan.”

“I like you a lot, but I don’t think that I’m your biggest fan. Your nieces have me beat. I didn’t know tomorrow was Addy’s birthday.”

“Aye,” he smiles, fingers inching up her back and tugging her closer to him, “she is turning six, and Ariel has arranged for her to have a tea party in one of the suites separate from the team suites. You should come with me.”

“Killian.” The way she says his name has all of his hope deflating, and he immediately dips his head down to run his lips across the apple of her cheek while his thumbs rub circles into her lower back. “I can’t. You know that.”

“You can. You don’t have to come as my girlfriend. You can simply come as part of the team. I’ll say I ran into you in the hallway or something and insisted that you come along. Come on,” he begs, finally kissing her lips, lingering a moment too long for it to be chaste, “come with me. It’ll be a fun time, and you can meet my family without any of the pressure of meeting them as my girlfriend.”

“But I will be meeting them as your girlfriend.”

“They don’t know that.”

“I’m not sure how that makes me feel. I know I want to meet your family and for you to meet mine. It was my idea and all, but now that the reality is in front of me, I think I might need some more time.” She pulls back from him, releasing his waist and trailing her fingers along his arms until Emma’s holding his hands, soft thumb tracing over the rough parts of his knuckles as her brows furrow together. She’s inspecting to him, and nerves rile in his stomach until she looks up at him with a sympathetic smile. “Can I think on it tonight at least? I don’t have a present for Addy.”

Killian shrugs. “We can sneak out and go buy her something, or,” he twines their fingers together and tugs her toward the bed, “we can spend a little time in here with you on your back because it really wouldn’t make sense for you to have a present if you weren’t technically planning on coming to the party.” “Watching TV?”

“Sure. We can keep it on while I fuck you with the image of you wearing nothing but my jersey playing in my mind.”

Emma laughs, something loud and boisterous, and he’s never been quite so thankful for the way that she enjoys his flirting. “I mean, that is the most typical athlete thing I’ve ever heard in my life, but we could always make it a reality.”

“Really now?”

“Mhm,” she hums, backing up into the mattress and sitting down, “but only because I liked the way you looked today when you realized I was wearing it. Plus, you defended me and all like a good human being, and I like good human beings.”

And I love you, he wants to say, but doesn’t, biting his tongue while he leans over her, hovering just above her face so that she blinks several times while looking up at him, her bottom lip tugged between her teeth.

“Well, only if you insist.”

[thegraysquirrel]

Self-Promotion Sunday

For self-promotion Sunday from @mouseymightymarvellous , I would like to bring the following to your attention:

*scrambles to search for anything useful to promote* 

Oh! There was that one time I was making a promotional speech for Obito in the hypothetical situation of Obito in his prime (no Rinnegan though) fighting Shisui in his prime in hopes of convincing people to vote for Obito instead of Shisui! Below the cut, you will find all 3600 words of it... Because go big or go home.

(If I knew how the hell I would put this on AO3, I so would. But. Tags? Format? okay format would be easy probably I have no idea how to get this on there. Title? I know how to jump literal hurdles but I draw the line at figurative hurdles.)

One last thing! You might be asking, “Why?!” and I would shrug. In reality, I don’t like that Shisui’s Kotoamatsukami is regarded as unbeatable in the Naruto ‘verse. Everything should have a weakness and I just exploited my love for Obito as a character to throw him at Shisui and it worked remarkably well.

I will title this: 

Why Obito (who fell through literal cracks and out of reality as he knew it while regarded as dead last and then dead first) Would Beat Shisui (the legend, the martyr, the Uchiha genius that seemed to have it all in terms of skills and abilities)

Okay so I have thoughts and I have to live up to my “commenting disaster” name so here goes. If you ever wanted to know how authors could feel when they got a comment from me, then buckle in. (wow this turned out to be about 2 full AO3 comments, yes, this is exactly how writers will feel upon seeing my comments in their inbox!)

I think it’s a wild guess that Shisui would have been able to manipulate the complete Uchiha clan through Fugaku.

SHISUI’S JUTSU AND WHAT I THINK OF IT

SHISUI’S LIMITATIONS AND LACK OF EXPERIENCE WITH KOTOAMATSUKAMI I don’t think Shisui’s ability has ever been countered or met his match in the short time he spent on the pages of the manga. Shisui doesn’t know how to tell if someone is fighting the manipulation, and he CAN’T know for sure that no one could. Considering he could use it once every ten years and he is younger than Genma, he hasn’t even got a lot of practise with it. He’ll have used it, what, once? So let’s say he used it twice, since he’s got two eyes. 

That’s TWO instances in which he used it—are you honestly telling me that his technique is unstoppable because he used it twice with no one countering? I’m not buying this. We don’t know the limits, and Shisui sure as hell doesn’t either. 

(I’ll admit, maybe it’s 10 years because the crow does not share the Uchiha blood. We can say Shisui could not use it for 2 years for the sake of Shisui, y’know… being able to build a reputation with it. I think Shisui had his Kotoamatsukami when Itachi was 5 years old, so he had it for about 8 years = 8 or 16 attempts, IF he spams his technique the second it comes off cooldown like us gamers do. Otherwise, he used it TWICE at most)

PEOPLE SAY “THIS JUTSU IS IMPOSSIBLE TO BEAT/THIS DEFENSE IS MORE SOLID THAN A ROCK” AND WERE PROVEN WRONG Do I think everyone has the potential to beat Shisui’s genjutsu? Hell no. But we CAN’T just buy the people’s words for it when we have so little data and they actually have little data too. The people Shisui used it on probably weren’t even a challenge in the genjutsu department. Here’s my thoughts about when people say something about a jutsu being *waves hand* without weakness. 

Gaara was said to have Absolute Defence and Sasuke managed to penetrate it when he was a Genin and everyone was like “Whaaaat he got through the Absolute Defence how is that possible??”

In chapter 257, Kakashi says “There is no cancelling the effects of [Itachi’s Tsukuyomi],” but Sasuke still managed to do so later with an ordinary sharingan. Kakashi’s sharingan prowess in dealing with Itachi’s mangekyou sharingan were inferior to that of this particular Uchiha. Sasuke did it by putting a genjutsu on himself to break free of the former genjutsu.

I’m sure there are more instances when jutsus are called “impossible to defeat” only for someone to go in and say, “bitch, watch me prove you wrong.” Naruto did it with the 3rd Raikage, in a way. “Impossible to defeat” means nothing. 

The only thing we have for Shisui’s eye-technique to be unstoppable is his and everyone’s beliefs that it’s flawless. But really, if Itachi’s powerful Tsukuyomi could be broken by an individual Uchiha, then why can’t Shisui’s have flaws that can be exploited (by another Uchiha)? When fighting an Uchiha and it’s one on one, flee, is Chiyo’s advice—unless you are also an Uchiha, I amend, even if your eyes are still basic instead of the premium version. 

CLOSER LOOK ON SHISUI’S VICTIMS Follow me on this wild speculation. (If you’re still reading, you rock!) It was said that a different person would need to question the one under the genjutsu for them to even consider the possibility of being manipulated. Let’s also list off the people we know or assume have been under Shisui’s eye’s manipulation:

Bloody Mist ninjas

More Bloody Mist ninjas

Probably ninjas from other villages they were at war with (I honestly don’t know)

Probably the Elders via Danzo (I’m vague on the details, but very likely right?)

The Daimyo via Danzo (wow that was really a challenge to influence him. Someone without ninja skills.)

Mifune via Danzo

Edo Tensei Itachi via crow instructed by Itachi (well, the eye was instructed by Itachi)

If I look at the list, I’m not seeing anyone who would give Shisui (or the holder of Shisui’s eye) a challenge, especially as Itachi got under control willingly. Just like Kakashi had no trouble fighting Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto in the first bell test, Shisui is on a level most people will never be able to reach.

The last one is the only one we know used on an Uchiha. We can’t actually conclude much or anything from it because Itachi orchestrated the Kotoamatsukami, but it was Itachi himself to make note of the manipulation. He was aware of the genjutsu. So the manipulation was noted.

MY CONCLUSION ON SHISUI He’s got the greatest genjutsu, but here’s the thing—he doesn’t know how to fight against other geniuses of genjutsu. It’s the same with eSports, when you are the best by far, you don’t get the experience against the people who match your skill, and that means you get rusty (YES I stole these words right from of a player in the LCS of League of Legends, be happy that I didn’t throw KICK a soccer metaphor at you) and since this tournament I’m arguing for is a knock-out, any mistake can cost you the tournament. His genjutsu is revered as the best, that it can’t be broken, but other jutsus that have been called flawless have been shown to have flaws that could be exploited. Shisui doesn’t have enough experience to have found them out himself. Shisui will win if his Kotoamatsukami works 100% on the enemy, but it’s less sure if the enemy breaks (partly) free.

But who could possibly have a chance of breaking free from it?

*RECORD SCRATCH* (In my document I had the following in a very big font. I miss my big font. ;-;)

MY ARGUMENTS FOR WHY OBITO CAN BREAK FREE FROM KOTOAMATSUKAMI (And why he can win it)

GENJUTSU AND MANIPULATION Obito is not just passing with genjutsu, he’s GOOD, because he was able to even control Yagura—a perfect Jinchuriki, someone who has a built-in pacemaker, but then a pacemaker for when the brain zones out of reality and needs to come back. He managed to somehow convince everyone that he was Uchiha Madara and he double-crossed the actual Madara too—this dude knows how manipulation works, even if that alone obviously won’t help him against a genjutsu of manipulation (it’s a good thing he’s got his own mangekyou sharingan, otherwise he’d definitely be toast). Still thought it worth mentioning. 

I hear you say, “Madara manipulated him!”

Actually, no, I don’t think he did?

Hot take: (I don’t know enough of the general consensus to know if it is a hot take) Obito was NOT manipulated by Madara.

Madara manipulated the situations, but Obito remained true to himself in reacting to them. Whether it would have been Madara’s super evil plan to kill Rin or if it had been The Leaf’s own incompetence at sending kids into dangerous territory (resulting in the deaths of said kids because the system is SHIT), Obito would have reacted the same. 

Yes, Madara is evil for playing with people’s lives like a kid does with blocks to build a structure, but Madara’s involvement isn’t important to the outcome. I think that Madara was unable to “genjutsu bullshit” his way into Obito’s mind, otherwise Madara would have hella secured Obito’s actions already. If Obito could have been influenced by “genjutsu suggestions”, no way in hell would Madara have simply kept asking Obito angrily, “Bring me to life, Obito, I hate being dead. I can’t become the Juubi’s jinchuuriki like this, Obito. Bring. Me. To. Life. (Wake me up.)”

Madara, feared by the world, didn’t use genjutsu on Obito from what we saw. He fell back on manipulating the circumstances for Obito, and the only reason I can think of that is because Obito isn’t susceptible to Madara’s suggestive genjutsu. 

Every time I watch the Obito and Madara episode, I just see Madara spouting words and Obito indulging the old man until he can get out of here. In my interpretation, the words have nothing to latch onto. When Obito returns, it’s his own choice. Madara’s and Obito’s interests aren’t aligning as much as Madara would like, and as such, Obito remains more than just Madara’s pawn.

OBITO IS HELLA STUBBORN (OOPS AND MANIPULATION AGAIN) ANYWAY, if ANYONE would be able to find a flaw in Shisui’s eye technique, Obito would. HECK, he even managed to keep his mind sound when the Juubi was driving him crazy. Like, that anime sequence when his limbs were torn apart? That thing. This dude got willpower and a stubbornness to follow the path he wants to take even if it’s really a dumb path. I might be easily swayed and manipulated, but Obito is not. Shisui wouldn’t even need his eyes to sway me, but on Obito he would need to give his 100% and, again, I’m not sure Shisui has ever been pushed to his limit, and he ALSO thinks that he’s impossible to beat so he’s not even going to give it his 100% (he might think he is, but you’ll only know how fast you can run when you’re chased by something you really don’t want catching up to you or if your alarm went off too late and you really need to be on time). Against Obito, it’s a flaw for Shisui’s ability that it’s about manipulating his decision, because Obito is a master of manipulation himself. He knows what Madara did to him. He fought the Juubi. Obito would walk into a tree rather than change his mind about what path he should walk.

OBITO HAS EXPERIENCE Obito at his prime also has a lot more experience with his ability, he knows his own limitations and how to use it as a part of himself. He can use it multiple times, he can use it in ways Shisui would not expect... Shisui would need to figure it out fast, and I think Obito at his prime (TWO Kamui sharingan) just has too many tricks up his sleeve for even Shisui of the Body Flicker to keep up with. 

MY SLEEP DEPRIVED CONCLUSION ON OBITO What I think Obito has: he got the stubbornness + sharingan skillz for weakening Shisui’s genjutsu on himself enough or maybe even completely repel it so Obito can actually still do things + Obito’s own mad skillzzz with Kamui. Shisui loses. 

TO CONCLUDE

I’ve got a lot of fanon thoughts (or maybe just my personal fix-it for canon) on Obito that I won’t unpack here (it’s that Obito is actually a genius himself even if it never showed clearly in his years pre-sharingan) because, hey, people don’t like reading 1k of random shizzle when they just want to vote for their boy Shisui! But please give Obito a chance because I feel he actually has a chance!

TL;DR 

Shisui has never been challenged in his abilities (especially not by an Uchiha). He won’t know what his all-out is for this, so he won’t go all-out 

Abilities have been called flawless before only for someone to be “hold my beer” and fuck them up. Case in point: Sasuke practically made Gaara cry

There’s been precedent of an Uchiha with normal sharingan getting out of what is hailed as one of the best genjutsus whereas no one without     sharingan would be able to do that alone (or at all)

Unlike Sasuke at that point, Obito has been a master of genjutsu and has a mangekyou sharingan at the point of fighting 

Obito knows what manipulation is and has even kept to his sanity* when the Juubi was tearing him apart. He has manipulated practically everyone, including a perfect jinchuuriki. He will be able to find a flaw in Shisui’s jutsu because he’s too stubborn to change his mind enough about yeeting (parts of) himself to his Kamui dimension when there’s danger

Obito knows his own ability like the back of his hand, including limitations, so Shisui will have a hard time fighting Obito if his own Kotoamatsukami isn’t winning the fight for him. 

*Okay, so maybe Obito isn’t completely sane, but Sakura wasn’t either when she fought off a jutsu working on the mind. I think Obito’s instability even gives him a cookie point

PLEASE GIVE OBITO A CHANCE I EVEN TALKED MY POOR SISTER’S EAR OFF DURING DINNER BECAUSE OF THIS

LET HER SACRIFICE NOT BE IN VAIN

 ---

(Counterarguments with my own reply I put in that document)

Honestly Great Argumenter for Shisui: my counter argument: Shisui is known as the ultimate uchiha genjutsu master. And hes also the best looking. ;)

         Me: In reply to greatest genjutsu master-- Would you say that Itachi was a greater genjutsu master than Sasuke? Because Sasuke broke free from ITACHI'S genjutsu. I'm not saying that Obito would put Shisui under a genjutsu--it's just that Shisui's genjutsu wouldn't hold as well as it normally would, and that might be enough already.

         HGAS: Shisui would still be faster than obito if we take genjutsu out of the equation completely Minato was able to almost kill obito due to speed so that can't be discounted. Obito had to retreat from his fight with minato.          Me: How old was Obito? 14? (Kakashi and Obito are both 31 at the end of Shippuuden, and Naruto’s birthday is in October, so Obito would have turned 32 in the following February of the war, and THIS means that Obito was 14 during the fight against Minato too, because Kakashi was 14 at the time of Naruto’s birth but Naruto timelines are terrible) I hardly call that his prime! And against Shisui, Obito will have two Kamui, whereas against Minato, he only had one. The fight would be different, I feel.

---

YO BECAUSE I STILL GOT TIME HERE I WILL ADD TO THIS. I warned you, if you feel confused where this is all coming from, you’re probably feeling the exact same things Mumma does at some of my Konoha Files comments. This is how I roll. AND PLEASE IF YOU WANT TO TALK KONOHA FILES HIT ME UP because I’ve got a lot more thoughts on that than on Obito vs Shisui!

EXPERIENCE Shisui graduated any age between 6 and 12, but we know that about two years later, he met Itachi who was 5, and 8 years later he died (I think he died when Itachi was 13 because there was more time between Shisui’s death and the other Uchihas’ deaths). Shisui died when he was between 16 and 22. (I am not familiar with the book canon!)

This means Shisui had at most 10-11 years of experience as a ninja. Yes, one year after graduating he got the Kotoamatsukami, so he got 10 years TOPS with his Mangekyou Sharingan which had a freaking long timer of usage in between, regardless of how many years we put it as; 10 years, 2 years, Shisui would have kept that ace up his sleeve so he would not spam the ability the second it came off cooldown.

Obito graduated when he was 9. At his prime he was 31 years old. That’s 22-23 years of experience for Obito as a ninja! He got his mangekyou sharingan when he was, what, 14 (at the end of shippuuden he is 31, and Kakashi is 31 too, so they might have been the same age—and then the Kyuubi summoning was when he was 14)? That’s 17 years of experience with his Mangekyou sharingan. 

Obito will have had way more battles with his ability than Shisui, way more opponents that would challenge his way of using his ability so Obito KNOWS what his flaws are. He knows what it will be like to fight against someone with kamui! He fought Minato and knows how the Flying Thunder God/teleportation can be used against him (and that was when he had his Mangekyou sharingan for less than a year!). In his battles, even when he was mostly forced to stay in the normal dimension because he needed to get his hands on someone, he has shown that he can slip body parts into his dimension even when he is attacked from all sides. His reaction time is solid (even if he is not because... dimension stuff).

Conclusion: Obito has more years of experience than Shisui at fighting with his mangekyou and more moments of figuring out his own limits and flaws and adjust his fighting style to minimize them. Obito has also had more momentous fights to test out his own abilities, including The 3rd Mizukage, The Fourth Hokage, Copy Ninja Kakashi with Kamui himself, other Uchihas during the Uchiha massacre (they count), Konan, Naruto and Killer B. Seriously, he’s more well-rounded than Shisui!

---

THE MIST Shisui fought ninjas, soldiers of the Mist and was feared by them. Obito won from the strongest ninja of the Mist, the Mizukage who was also a FREAKING PERFECT JINCHUURIKI and kept him under his control for YEARS. I know which feat I think is more admirable. 

SPEED Shisui is hailed for his speed, but the Body Flicker is said “To an observer, it appears as if the user has teleported. It is accomplished by using chakra to temporarily vitalise the body and move at extreme speeds.” Obito has FOUGHT Minato, who actually is able to teleport. This was 17 years ago!!! Obito has improved because he was just a fledgling who even had to figure out how his new arm worked!!! Yes, Shisui is faster than Obito, but Shisui will not be fast enough to pulverize Obito. Don’t forget, the kamui sharingan has the added benefits of being able to predict the opponent’s movements, see chakra, so Shisui’s speed advantage is diminished against any Uchiha.

OBITO’S TECHNIQUE Shisui has no idea what Obito’s technique could be and honestly, passing through him mid-fight is already a scary thought, just think how disappearing from sight and appearing could be. Heck, Obito could probably even be in his own dimension, spit fire, and then long-range Kamui it back to the dimension where Shisui is. The precision of it can be worth speculating, but if Obito can appear on a branch of a tree, then he sure as hell can know where exactly he’d send his fireball jutsu. He just does. He’s got the spatial awareness of the overlap between his own dimension and the one Shisui recedes in. And how would Shisui counteract this attack, huh? He can’t body flicker to Obito’s dimension.

Even if Obito stays in the dimension Shisui is in, Shisui won’t be able to exploit the weaknesses. It took Konan a long time to know what the timer for Obito’s ability was, and Konan had her own ability to exploit that weakness. From what we know of Uchihas fight styles, I am having a hard time figuring out what Shisui could do to exploit Obito’s timer—and that’s only if he can figure it out, which he won’t. No one but Konan has found out about that particular tid bit, to my knowledge.

Let’s say Shisui got a hit on Obito. A hit means contact and he gets sucked to the other dimension. Afterwards, Obito would return to the dimension with food and eat while Shisui starves. Win. I’m a bit fuzzy on the details, but the people who have managed to get a hit on Obito when Obito could use kamui (Remember! Obito could not use kamui when he was the Juubi jinchuuriki!):

Minato with his Flying Thunder God move when Obito was new to kamui, to his arm, and only had his right eye kamui and not his left

Kakashi but that was when he was in the other dimension while Obito was still fighting Naruto. Since Obito vs Shisui is a 1v1, this won’t happen

Kakashi because he used his OWN kamui to get a kunai to Obito. Uhuh, Kakashi got a lot of hits mostly because Kakashi had kamui.

Kakashi again, but that was because it would be hella stupid to phase out to the dimension that had a war going on.

Konan (she was so badass)

I honestly don’t remember more, do you?

Shisui is amazing with his body flicker, really, but Obito can dodge left and right. Shisui won’t get a hit on him unless Obito allows it, because Obito got the damn experience!

With two kamui’s, Obito’s transportation (himself and of others he holds on to) is faster, as we’ve seen when Obito and Kakashi worked together to move Obito to his own dimension. Obito’s speed has increased with two kamui’s. 

SHISUI’S TECHNIQUE Shisui is a softy. I’m sorry, but he is. Aoba lived to tell the tale because Shisui wanted to scare them off with his genjutsu instead of killing them. Danzo was put under a genjutsu by Shisui and Shisui thought it was enough even when the genjutsu was done (and then Danzo managed to take an eye of BODY FLICKER SHISUI, so hey, his speed ain’t gonna be the end of it all). Shisui relies on his genjutsu deterring people—that’s obviously going to be his go-to move, and it means he can be caught off-guard when it’s not as effective.

He’s good at Taijutsu (or at least, he would win every spar against Itachi but Itachi was 3-9 years younger, so…), but even Taijutsu master Gai didn’t manage to land a hit on Obito when he used his nunchucks--would Shisui really be able to do what Taijutsu master Gai could not? 

Another TL;DR

Shisui simply doesn’t have the tools against an Uchiha as experienced as Obito. Obito’s ability is a different kind of OP than Shisui’s because Obito knows how to use it as a part of him, whereas Shisui’s ability is something he has relied on very heavily because no one has countered it yet. Obito will find the weakness in Shisui’s “strongest” genjutsu and be able to win from Shisui because of all the battle experience against talented individuals Obito has had. Obito managed to unite the five nations all on his own, he was THAT powerful.

We’ve said before that Shisui is on a different level from practically everyone, but honestly?

Obito stares down on Shisui from his god tier level 

*mic drop*

[survivorbehemoth]

Episode 15: "congrats daisy for winning season 7 of celestial: behemoth!” - Jules

congrats daisy for winning season 7 of celestial: behemoth!

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JIOFEOJIFEWOJIWOJI THAT SOUNDS SO BITTER BUT DYLAN SIR U HANDED HER THE GAME! HANDED IT TO HER! GOD! and its what she deserves!

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anyways. let it be known this was NOT MY FAULT.

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let the record show, before last night's tribal, I SAID SOMETHING WAS NOT SITTING RIGHT WITH MY SPIRIT!!!!!!!!!! AND???? what happened. look what happened.

Vocaroo

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still practicing my slide puzzles WJIJIEFIJWJIFIFWJEJWIEEJWIF

OH MY GOD I HATE THIS GAME I HATE THIS GAME I HATE THIS GAME!!!

this final 4 is absolutely amazing and i literally love all of them so much, but that just makes things 10x worse. i think that playing my idol on daisy was a huge risk and the fact that it is now a final 2 makes things a bit more interesting. my ideal plan was to have daisy in the final 4 with me so that i wouldnt be the next target, but now that she won immunity it just didnt work out how i intended at all!!

voting out jules and szymon is purely going to come down to which one of them will sway my way and it's going to hurt to send one of them to jury no matter what, but i just feel like i came all this way and not making top 3 would just suck so badly. so yeah, this sucks. i hate that no matter what i do im going to be upsetting people and hurting feelings but... i guess that's just the game! at this point im not even sure if i can win against daisy but it seems like she will take me, it just depends on whether or not i stay loyal to her if i win FIC or if i take whoever is with me in final 3.

much to think about, BUT I JUST CANT BELIEVE I MADE IT THIS FAR !!!!

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Jules is voted out 3-1. She becomes the 8th member of our jury.

Watch the Cast Assessment take place below:

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Szymon is voted out by Daisy. He becomes the final member of our jury.

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idk thought this would be cute to include my voting log and stuff hehe <3 https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1RiA0RUWX4TRpqBTgRzLJJ3fHu2jBqZ-bCJozFd3HcRs/edit?usp=sharing

Jules: https://youtu.be/6zKeJuOJKeY 

https://youtu.be/5dV_-X6Rv2U

https://youtu.be/N5tnq-4QAT8

someone (zach) asked me to rank the jurors from nicest to meanest...so here we go. ily all <3 <3

1. seamus (this will def come as a surprise, but seamus was the most levelheaded and nice one on the jury. he really never made a bitter comment even though he had every right to, especially at me/daisy/dylan and really anyone who was in after him except chips. like. he was the only person to reach out in pms after and it was immediate, he really comforted me and i really admire men who can have like good relationship w/ women that are platonic??? i know he's been like terrible in the past and i did call him on some stuff in hydravivor and ill be the FIRST to admit that i called him a crackhead on a daily basis but i think he's grown a lot!!!!!! idk. i think he's also the MOST self aware!!!! im a seamus stan, what about it?)

2. brandan (while brandan was kinda irrelevant game wise this season -- but not in our hearts -- he was very objective and a peacemaker. he had good reason to be MIA too so the fact that he got as far as he did means to me that he did form some strong social connections. and he did!!! with me, i think w/ conor, so idk, he had a role like i did in the game imo. i really liked him and he really brought a fresh perspective on things!!!)

3. szymon (he's only not ranked higher bc he's pissed off rob and he stands his ground a lot more outwardly than the first two, at least in the jury chat. also he's not had as much time as a juror. but even then, i think szymon is not a bad guy like some of the ppl make him out to be. like, idk, i think he made a mistake on a game level and he even admitted it and idk he's a legend. truly. im so glad to have met him and i think he was a really nice juror to have around while he was ACTUALLY around bc he stood up for me/daisy the way seamus did)

4. lovelis (lovelis makes some pointed comments but.....he's not dumb at all and so i don't think he's been bitter. also his pointed comments have been funny and mostly radiating the energy of the other Bitter Jurors so idk. i really like him on a personal level as well and have for a while so idk. i dont KNOW KNOW him but he's never been the type to make harsh comments without them having some merit to them. so i kinda trust his judgement even though he wasnt in the game long/an early merge boot. idk i think he's open minded enough and he's also someone who admits when he's done a Lil Too Much but he's really lovely. just competitive.)

5. chips (i dont think chips is MEAN per se, in fact, i dont think he has a mean bone in his body on a personal level. like WFIJFJIFWE I DONT KNOW HOW ELSE TO SAY IT HES SO FUCKING NICE!!!!!!! but thats why it's so funny to see him in games bc he's a lil lying, a lil backstabby and sometimes he's a lil passive aggressive. but its not undeserved. its also a pisces thing WEFJIEIEJWEFJIWEF i think what i saw in the jury house was sometimes chips going along w/ things, but i dont know, i really do not know much about chips game and ill probs ask him more afterwards?? but idk he was REALLY nice to me tho so FWIJFWEWFIFW i just dont trust him in games.......i dont know whats on his mind half of the time......)

I WANNA SAY FOR THE NEXT 3 MEN THEYRE HEAVILY INFLUENCED BY THEIR FIRE SIGN PLACEMENTS SO while i know some of them do hold resentment, its a lot easier to deal with and work with and with all 3 of them we've talked it out with/are going to talk it out. only #8 has been the MOST stubborn but idk imma let him do his thing & try not to pass too much judgement u know cause i dont need to waste my braincells on that

6. conor (knowing conor's astrological placements makes this make sense to me. but i wanna say that i think he's the type of leo to like be upfront, get it out, vent, and be fine? which is why i respect him a lot and i think we do have a mutual respect for each other. some of the comments he made were kinda rude tho and him fake liking astrology for social game was SO UGLY TO ME!!!! like i'll clown him for it for as long as i know him now cause....JOKE'S ON HIM!!!!!!! WJOEFWEOWEFO but that was kinda mean but def conor's come around and seen the light / has also reached out to me to talk. he's also admitted he left a mean speech in sbbb9 and regretted it so i think he might just shoot off at the mouth a bit. but BETTER THE DEVIL U KNOW THAN THE ONE U DONT and i appreciate the transparency NOW as opposed to the fakeness of him saying he liked astrology for social game. THIS IS A HILL I WILL DIE ON!!!!! im a fan of leos tho and he's a leo moon like me. so. i think we'll be fine. )

7. rob (i actually really REALLY like rob on a personal level but i really do not know if i could play another game with him, at least survivor, id be open to playing bb. i think ill say that the best thing about rob is that he's also apologized, was one of the first to when i confronted them all, me and him have a good personal relationship tbh!! but some of the game comments he made were p harsh and he's definitely a lil bitter but again, he's admitted it, i think while he's more up front -- i dont think i ever wanna be on his bad side in a game. EVER!!! cause we didnt even have any loyalty to each other in the game but he was SO harsh on my game like it was wild bc i dont think id ever be that harsh to ANY OF THEM ABOUT THEIR GAMES LIKE THAT???? anyways. its fine bc again he's apologized and he's owned it but PHEW he got a lil bit of a sharp tongue. really eloquent tho!!!!!!!!!!! love hearing him speak)

8. gage (last but least the southern belle himself................this man an aries and i dont know his other signs but him being an aries man is enough. they POP OFF!!!!!! a lot of times there's some truth to it, sure, but sometimes they just be popping off and FOR WHAT!!!!! i do understand gage's frustrations though but even he apologized for being too mean in HIS FUTURE FUCKING CONFESSIONALSSSSSSSS TO MEEEEEE so. idk. he's got an issue with letting things go in games and miss annajane calls him on a lot of BS and it does NOT seem to really knock him down but. gage is really wht u see is what u get, doesnt really own his faults but at least u kinda know where ur at w/ him. but he's still probs the meanest one in there but i do understand from a game level why he was so fucked up about it, especially after hearing FTC. its just that. i understand his position. BUT HE NEEDS TO TAKE A XANAX SOMETIMES I S2G GAGE I WILL GIVE YOU ONE!!! girl it is NOT that serious!!!!!!)

also forgot to mention that i admitted to gage that chris from s1 was NOT actually my brother and his jaw was on the floor <3 I GOT TO DO ONE TROLL THING RIGHT!!!!!! rip me/seamus' showmance serious!!!!!!)

okay just to add onto my last confessional -- the songs i think represent me best from this playlist game wise are: - perfect for you - punchin' bag - stayin' alive - flip - femme fatale/future nostalgia (for the girls alliance that never was....rip but also me/daisy at merge vibes) - X - the shortchange - TAKE ME AS I AM!!!!! THAT SONG IS THE ONE THATS BECOME MY SONG!!!! for this game especially!!!!! - over yet (the lyrics literally speak for themselves) - tough on myself (sorry for stealing ur song vincent) - seven devils - villains pt. 1 (i dont think i was a villain but i did stuff in this game that i usually dont and would consider villainous for myself FEWIWFEJIFEW i was in my feelings!) - passion & pain taste the same when i'm weak (me coming into the jury house and realizing they'd all snatched my wig w/ the edges and the glue.....i DID cry to this song for at least 2 hours! yes i did! WIFJWJIWEIJE) - tar ('under the stars -- pull yourself from the tar'. at the end of the day, this season was fucking stacked and there wasn't one person who was a bad player at all. at all.stars, if you will. i was under a lot of stars and from all the breakdowns in my game to me actually breaking down -- i GOTTA PULL MYSELF FROM THE TAR!!!! learn!! grow!! be better!!)

TOP 5 (not 'perfect for you'): - punchin' bag - take me as i am - over yet - tough on myself - tar

good for my whole journey imo!! the last 3!!! okay this is my ACTUAL last confessional okay thank u for everything!!! bye!!!

https://youtu.be/T5wRzWwlOp8

and here's my personal playlist for the org: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2E8KGCo1SrBgoJIQ9DycfM?si=96PWq-6ERCyisacQr3zPww

it is literally an hour and a half until the winner reveal and i really just have no idea what's going to happen. like in the back of mind i just have a feeling that im losing bc, yeah you know self-deprecation woo! but yeah idk i think i really gave this game my all and while i dont think i played it flawlessly, i still think i played a strong game i can be proud of :,)

having it be a live final tribal for my first ever like, jury questioning was just--- ugh wild but i actually think it went really well. just based on what people were saying it definitely seemed as if some of the jurors didnt really want to see me and daisy at the end or like, really werent consider voting for me but i think i was definitely able to sway some people who were willing to listen and definitely gave some of the jurors something to think about. so whether or not i win i do think that i had a really great final tribal performance, maybe it was even enough to sway enough people into giving me their vote?? WHO'S TO SAY

anyways this has been such a wild experience and it's surreal to think that it's ending in like, a little over an hour but no matter what happens i can say confidently that i will be able to look back on this season fondly and will be leaving it with my head held high bc I REALLY DID THIS LIKE!!! I REALLY MADE IT TO THE END!! WOW I STILL CANT GET OVER IT HAHAHA!! but yeah bye forever <33

Rob’s Last Video:  https://youtu.be/X3krxxfJ3oo

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Daisy wins in a 7-2 vote!

[klaussstilinski]

Prologue

AN: Okay I don’t own anything but my character. I hope you guys really enjoyed this. Let me know if you liked it and give me feedback. All kinds of feedback is welcome! This is also a filler ‘chapter’ to kind of get a feel of Daisy Once again enjoy!!

Setting: It’s a hot Friday in June the summer before high school for the kids. Daisy is currently in her home, grandmother's home, preparing dinner letting the sun warm her face through the kitchen window. The core 4 were getting together for one last dinner before Monse left for writing camp. While she is cutting vegetables, her mom decides to face time her, she gets so spooked she accidentally cuts herself.

Tag: Tagging people who commented! @the-thurmm @apocalipsiss @izraahh1 @shesbriaanayy @aka-eb @harduy

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Ma I'm applying pressure like you said.” I replied pressing the towel to the cut on my hand.

“How the hell did you even manage to do that?” Oh god, she’s pissed.

Well let's see I was minding my own business when you decided to call and scared the hell out of me. But let’s be honest I didn’t say that out loud, or else she would’ve reached through the phone and slapped me.

“I... I was cutting bell peppers...” I hissed “Next thing I know my phone starts going off and the knife slips and blood is everywhere.” Moving my hands around frantically trying to mimic what just happened.

“You have to be more careful baby” I look up to see sad brown eyes staring back at me.  

“I’m 23 mom, not 12. I know how to cut vegetables. Anyways how is Luna?” An Australian shepherd puppy. She adopted her when I moved back to Freeridge. My guess, she didn’t want to be alone in Savannah.

“Don't change the subject Daisy...but she's doing well. I think she’s still trying to adjust to the house.” A big grin has now stretched over her face.  

“That’s wonderful, but um what do I need to put on this cut to clean it?”  

“See this is why you should’ve studied to become a doctor, but no you wanted to be a baker.” She mocked, “Go find some Neosporin and peroxide. Use the peroxide first, let it air dry, then put some Neosporin on it and put a band aid on it.”

I nod along to everything she says as I try to balance the phone and my now bloody towel as I run down the hall to the bathroom.

“Shit!” I yell as I stub my toe on the table by the bathroom door. “Sorry didn’t mean to say that out loud...damn that hurt.” I apologize when she yells my full name. I hobble into the bathroom, lay my phone on the counter and open the drawer below the sink.  

“So how is Monse...how does she feel about leaving for the whole summer?” I immediately stop what I'm doing and look up to lock eyes with mama.

“She’s coming over soon with Jamal, Ruby, and Cesar. She hasn’t really told me how she feels about leaving but she acts like she's excited.” Of course, Monse is excited, her dream is to become a writer. I mean I never really thought dad would let her go because she is the baby girl. Anything she asks for, she shall receive. God Daisy you sound so bitter. Monse is only spoiled so much because dad leaves her alone so much. You need to stop being so negative.

“Earth to Daisy!” I gasp, realizing I zoned out as mama was telling me a very important story. Looking down I see my hand bandaged, lifting up my hand I inspect it my handiwork.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I zoned.” Scooping up the phone I walk back into the kitchen to resume cooking.

“You know you should real- OH MY GOD that’s a lot of blood!” I hear someone screech. I turn abruptly with a knife pointing in the direction of the voice.  

“What the hell Jamal, how and when did y’all even get here?” Gasping putting the knife back down. Walking towards the bathroom I grab the towel and throw it away. “Why didn’t you knock before just walking in?”

“The door was unlocked so technically that was an open invitation.” Ruby replied walking into the kitchen. “Hey mama V!”

“Hey baby, Daisy I'll call you later tonight. Send me pictures of the food, that’s if you don’t burn it. Also make sure to drive the kids home later. Love you!”  

“Hey I can cook. I’ll call you later tonight,” Guiding the other 3 into the kitchen. “Love you too!” We all shouted. Picking up the knife, Ruby continued cutting the veggies. Beef stir fry here we come.  

“You know what, you were right,” Cesar started. “You can cook...some things!” Laughing I toss my napkin at him. Dinner was wonderful, though really there was no talking just all eating.  

“So Monse, writing camp. Are you excited? Nervous? Scared?” Do I really want to know her answer? Does the boys?

“It’s going to be weird leaving but I'm excited. I love to write everyone knows it’s a passion of mine!” Nodding along she continued. “But it’s only for the summer so it’s not going to be that bad.”

Cesar grabbed her hand, “Everything's going to be fine, trust me.”

He sounds so confident. Will everything be okay? With Monse gone who’s going to stop these 3 from getting into trouble? Then who’s going to bail them out?  

“We have about 2 hours before I have to get you guys back home so what shall we do?” Clearing the table, I smile and laugh hearing their response. Of course, they want me to fix them some beignets.

“Dude you cannot tell me that that was not the fluffiest beignets she has ever fixed,”  

“The powdered sugar just set it over the top. The berries were so juicy too. Like they just burst in your mouth”

“Ruby dude don’t ever say that again!” Cesar hit his shoulder.

“Hey this is a small car stop moving so much,” Jamal yells. Pulling in front of Ruby’s I look over and smile at Monse. Getting out I walk them inside to greet Mario.

“Woah, Daisy Sinclaire. What a surprise, when did you come back to town?”  

“I’ve been back for about 5 months now Mario. I just haven't been around much you know!” Shrugging I take a look around the Martinez home. Everything is still the same. I don’t think the Martinez family will ever change, at least I hope they don’t.

“You do know that he’s still in jail, right? He won't be out for another couple months.”

I glared at him. “I know that, I’m just practicing not being here since I won't be around when he does get out?”  

“What even happened between you two?”

What happened between me and Spooky is in the past and I plan to keep it there. As long as I stay out of Freeridge, and I'm not seen by the Santos.

“Well would you look at the time I think my bed is calling me!”

“Yeah I've got to run too. But before we all leave, I just want to say something,” Mario turns to the core 4. “No matter what you go through you have to stick together. That is the only way you’ll survive high school. The universe is going to give you shit but it’s about how you decide to handle your shit the universe gives you.” Cocking my head, I look to see 4 confused faces.

“Never break up, got it! But um are you okay?”  

“Hermano I'm high, high off life!”

As I lock eyes with Jamal, I can tell we were thinking the same thing. Everything was about to change.

[ratwrites]

Lies In Paradise 1/2

Requests.

Masterlist.

Prompt/s: "I guess this is goodbye?"

Summary: You are captured by a Jinn and must leave behind everything you've ever wanted.

Warnings: Suicide

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Word Count: 6376

A/N: I'm not ready for this show to end ;-; I'm currently rewatching it so I decided to finally write some Sam stuff!

[[MORE]]

Fairfield Illinois, a small forgotten town that you'd never been to in your entire life. That was one of the perks of hunting; traveling all over was a weekly deal. You pulled yourself out of the backseat of your car stifling a yawn. The nine hour drive had been death on your body. You'd made the mistake of driving straight into the night, but you were also the idiot who left hours after everyone else.

You shut your car door and headed to the back unlocking the trunk. You grabbed your duffle bag and shut the trunk before heading to the motel office. You opened the door the bell above it drawing the attention of an older man.

"Looking to stay for the night?" He questioned.

"Actually, I already have a room booked, should be under the name Dylan," you answered, lazily. The man flipped through an old book for a moment before nodding. He reached down under the counter and handed you a room key labled 5.

"Your uh- friends went to the diner I think," the man added, before you could leave. You'd seen the diner on the way in, it wasn't hard to miss considering it was right next to the motel, but you hadn't bothered to look for their car due to your exhaustion. You bowed your head in thanks before leaving the office in search of your room. You spotted the door labeled 5 right off the bat and headed over to it. With a push of the key and a soft click of the door you were inside.

You closed and locked the door behind you before tossing your stuff down onto the floor. Their stuff was placed on the two beds as if claiming their sleeping spots. You sighed and moved to the furthest bed tossing the heavy bag off into the floor. Screw them you wanted to sleep.

You sat down on the edge of the bed removing the knife from inside your boot before untying and kicking your combat boots off. You rolled up your right pant leg and removed the small handgun hidden in a holster. With a yawn you crawled all the way onto the bed and flopped sliding the gun under the single pillow. You rolled onto your stomach your arms burying themselves under the pillow as well. While one hand loosely gripped the gun the other touched a small bracelet on your wrist.

Another yawn left your lips as you allowed your eyes to slide closed. You swore if they woke you when they got back you'd kill them.

...

You stirred from your sleep as the bed dipped down. Your instincts reacted swiftly your fingers shifting and positioning themselves dangerously around the gun. With careful movements you turned your head to the side your body instantly relaxing at the silhouette sitting next to you.

"Need me to move over?" You mumbled, making the shape jump.

"Didn't mean to wake you up," he whispered.

"Sam, you're fat. If you didn't want to wake me then crawling into with me bed was your first mistake," you snorted, through a yawn.

This was your first case with the Winchesters in a while. Well, it wasn't like you hadn't been with them, it's just that no hunts seemed to be coming up. You'd been friends with the boys since the first round of the apocalypse. You'd spent a lot of time with them eventually moving into the bunker with them. If heaven could've been on earth, it was in that bunker with them.

When you'd first met the boys you had barely gotten to know Sam before he took a trip to hell. You spent time with the older Winchester during Sam's time in hell. Even after the younger brother returned it had been hard for you to connect with him like you had with Dean. Though once the Winchester had recovered his soul you grew to care about him. Eventually your caring had turned into crushing, which you tried to push aside. In this life, you couldn't have connections, but Sam seemed to widle his way in whether you liked it or not. You two had been dancing around each other for months, but each too scared to act.

A quiet chuckle left the brother's mouth as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed giving the Moose man room to lay down comfortably. Once he settled down you moved back a little until your back rested comfortably against his. His heat warmed your body. "So, you two find out anything?" You questioned, nuzzling your head into the pillow.

"Not much. The victims have nothing in common whatsoever. It's almost like they're normal kidnappings except for the one body that was found," Sam answered, quietly. The only body found had been drained of all it's blood. At first you thought it might have been a vampire, but Sam had called you mid drive to tell you that they'd checked the place out and there were no signs of vampires anywhere, not to mention the body only had one puncture wound on the neck.

"Can you two discuss this in the morning please? I want to sleep," Dean's rough voice grumbled. You giggled lightly.

"Goodnight Dean," you teased. He didn't respond, but you heard the shuffle of his bed which indicated that he rolled over probably with his back to your bed. You closed your eyes allowing yourself to drift back to sleep.

.

You woke up at the crack of dawn your body complaining from the three and a half hours of sleep you'd gotten. To your surprise the diner, a Five Brothers, was actually open. You'd gone into the diner with Sam's laptop and ordered yourself some breakfast. Once seated in a booth off in a secluded corner of the restaurant you propped open the laptop and began to scroll through the information the boys had gathered so far.

Once your breakfast arrived you closed the laptop and ate in a peaceful silence. The only other people in the local diner were the workers, a trucker, and an elderly couple that didn't look like they needed to be up this early; then again, you didn't need to be either.

Finishing your breakfast you opened the laptop again and continued to research. The little information they had was making the task of identifying this creature very difficult. You let out a frustrated sigh scanning through the police report again.

"Never seen you in here before." You drew your attention to a young man standing by the booth. He looked like he was maybe nineteen. The young man was around 6'0 his curly mud brown hair messy and unkept. His deep brown eyes stared down at you uncomfortably.

"Just passing through," you replied, coolly. He cocked a brow at you tilting his head slightly.

"I'm Jacob," he said, plopping down into the seat across from you. You frowned turning your attention back to your laptop.

"Not even a name?" he pushed, one of his feet touching yours. You pulled your feet criss cross into your seat shooting him a warning glance.

"I'm way older than you kid, get lost," you huffed, keeping your cool. The kid, Jacob, was the one to frown this time. He didn't budge from his seat.

"Come on, just a name," he urged.

"Look kid, I'm busy, so why don't you run along. Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?" You growled.

"I'm graduated," he defended.

"Good for you and I'm busy," you replied, snappily.

"Everything okay here Agent?" Relief flooded through you at the sound of Sam's tired voice.

"Fine, just going through the case files," you answered, turning your attention toward Sam. The boy didn't budge for a moment.

"That is my partners seat," you said, looking back at him. He angrily got up coming almost face to face with Sam. Even with only a four inch advantage the kid coward away from Sam. Sam slid down into the seat across from you.

"I'm surprised you're up," you commented, putting your feet back down on the floor.

"Well, I noticed that there was something missing," he replied, referring to your back against his. You rolled your eyes playfully. A waitress approached the table.

"Anything I can get for you?" she asked. Sam grabbed the menu from a small holder on the table and flipped through it.

"Black coffee with the Morning Egg Special please," he answered, setting the menu back in the holder. She nodded before hurrying off.

"So, did you make anything out of what we've got?" You shook your head.

"My first thought was still vampire, but you said you've already checked for that," you explained. Sam nodded. The waitress brought Sam his coffee along with a glass of water. Sam thanked her before taking a sip.

"Dean said he had an idea, but refused to spill until he got some sleep," Sam chuckled, taking another sip. You huffed through a smile looking through the information again.

"Where was the body found again?" You asked.

"Outside some wearhouse on North 1st street," Sam answered. You sat quietly for a moment.

"I'm going to drive down there and take a look at the warehouse," you stated, standing up.

"I'll go with you," Sam started. You pointed a finger at him stopping him in place.

"Stay and eat your breakfast Sam. I'll be fine. I'll call if I need anything." Sam let out a reluctant sigh and settled back down in his seat. Without another word you headed out of the diner and back to your car. You slipped into your car and punched in the warehouse directions in your phone.

.

The drive wasn't too long considering it was a small town. You parked your car outside the warehouse giving it a once over from behind the trunk of your car. You grabbed your gun and slid it inside your coat pocket. A section of the parking lot had been blocked off by police tape indicating that the body had been found there. You were going to look inside. You headed to the front door and picked the lock. Once inside you closed the door behind you. A large empty room rested before you. Toward the back of the warehouse was a staircase leading up to a huge platform. You couldn't see what was on it. Below the platform rested a few doors with scratched off labels. You pulled out your gun and began your tour.

.

You let out a deep sigh and headed toward the front door. Your search had been fruitless. Your hand fell to the door handle coming to a halt when a loud cry echoed throughout the building. You whipped around swiftly your gun coming to defense. You moved back into the warehouse following the screams and cries that kept coming. You spotted what seemed to be a hidden door. You quickly moved to the door and opened it heading down a flight of stairs and into a poorly lit basement.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you. The missing people had their arms strung from the ceiling a needle pressed into their necks. They were being drained. Your heart dropped as the realization of what this was hit you. You needed to get out of here and fast. You ran toward the screaming girl tucking your gun away.

"Hey hey, easy. Shh," you soothed, trying to calm her down. You reached into your boot and removed your knife. You began to cut her ropes desperate to get her down. Her eyes widened as she screamed again. A hard object struck the back of your head sending you down onto the floor. Hands rolled you onto your back. A tattooed man crouched down over you his eyes glowing an unnaturally blue color. You tried to fight, but your vision and body betrayed you. The blue light from his hand made your heart race as he pressed it against your forehead. Darkness swirled around you until it consumed you.

.

You woke with a loud gasp shooting upright. You wildly looked around a dark room not able to recognize your surroundings. You looked down noticing your attire. You were wearing sweatpants and a bra. "You okay?" You yelped at the sudden voice jumping away from it. Another cry left your lips as you got tangled in the comforter over you sending you off of the bed and onto the floor.

"Jesus! Are you alright?" The stranger flipped on a light and shuffled off of the bed and to you. You knew that face.

"S-Sam?" You gawked, his lack of clothes catching you off guard. He was wearing a loose pair of sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. You could tell there wasn't anything under them. Your cheeks heated up violently turning a deep shade of pink. He crouched down untangling you and standing you up. His touch on your skin was gentle.

"What- what the hell is going on?" You breathed, looking around.

"I uh- could ask you the same question. Are you okay?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I don't know. Dude, where are we? What the fuck is going on?" You asked, pulling yourself out of his grasp.

"We're at home.. Honey are you Okay?" He asked, again. You froze at the pet name. Sam hadn't ever called you by a pet name before.. Then again Sam had never dressed like that around you before.

"Home?" You walked out of the bedroom surprised to find a house outside the room. You walked down a short hallway and out inside a living space. You stood dumbfounded taking in the change. Off of the living room was a small kitchen along with a family room and a dining room. There were three more rooms down the hallway along with the room at the end which was the one you'd practically ran from. You slowly began to walk around the house until you came to the living room. Your eyes went to a kennel telling you that there was a dog. You gazed around spotting a desk. Slowly you went to the desk noticing pictures that sat on it.

You hesitantly scooped up one of the pictures and turned it toward you. You almost dropped it out of shock and confusion. Sam's arm was wrapped around your waist his lips pressed against yours. You set it down and walked around the desk looking at the other pictures. Every single one of them was you and Sam, all except for one. The picture in the center caught your attention. You picked it up examining it. It was a family photo. On one side rested Sam, Dean, Cas, Bobby, John, Mary, Samuel, and Deanna. On the other rested your, your mother, father, sister, two brothers, and your father. You and Sam were next to each other both clearily dressed for a wedding along with everyone else.

You choked back the tears that dared to spill as you set the picture down.

"Baby?" Sam called, quietly. Your eyes met his as he flipped on the lamp on the desk.

"Oh baby," he cooed, seeing the tears in your eyes. He came around the desk pulling you comfortably against his bare chest. Without thinking you curled into him tucking your arms between his chest and yours. You looked down noticing the ring on your finger. You were married... To Sam...

You pulled back looking up at him. "You okay?" He asked, again.

"I-" you hesitated. "I don't understand... I had just left you to go and check out the case we were working," you began. Sam tilted his head.

"What are you talking about?" He questioned.

"The- the thing we were hunting.." You continued. Sam chuckled.

"Hunting? You hate hunting, remember? Honey, you're tired. You should go back to sleep," he soothed.

"No! Don't you remember?" you yelped.

"It was just a dream love," Sam said, calmly. You shook your head in confusion.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed." Sam took your hands in his gently tugging on you. You didn't fight him allowing him to lead you back to the room you'd woke up in. Maybe it was just a dream. You'd wake up and be back where you had been. You settled onto the bed tensing as Sam pulled you close tucking you safely against his side. He pressed a kiss into your hair making your scalp tingle.

"Sleep love," he encouraged, reaching up to stroke his fingers through your hair. Your body automatically relaxed into his touch. This was all wrong, but you couldn't help but enjoy it while it lasted.

.

You woke to find yourself in the same room. You sat up quickly looking around again. Light pooled through the bedroom window. A delicious smell hit your nostrils causing you to realize that Sam was nowhere to be found.

"S- Sam?" You called, panicking.

"In the kitchen!" he answered. You climbed out of bed and found a sweatshirt on the floor. You slipped it over your head noting that it was huge on you. You walked out of the room stepping over a baby gate and out into the living space. You didn't know that Sam could cook. A beautiful dog rounded the corner bouncing happily up to you. You couldn't help but bend down to pet it for a moment. You approached the counter that seperated the kicthen from the living room. Sam's eyes met yours.

"I see you've found my sweatshirt," he chuckled, his gaze sliding over what he could see. Your cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"I thought you'd like some breakfast before you head to work," he explained. You tilted your head.

"Work?" You questioned. Sam looked at you again.

"You did say you had a private art session today, right?" he confirmed. Art student..

"I'm an- art teacher?" You murmured.

"Yep!" Sam chuckled. When you were a kid you'd wanted to be an art teacher, but gave it up for hunting. Hunting had always been apart of your family, but consumed your life after your sister had been torn to shreds by a Banshee. You stood quietly for a moment.

"I canceled it," you said, suddenly. Your memory had gone back to the picture you'd seen last night. Your sister was alive along with your parents. Your mother had died of cancer when you were 19 and your father had a hunt go wrong. It was just you and your two brother's left, but you hadn't heard from them in years and basically assumed they were dead too.

"Why?" Sam asked, curiously. You shrugged.

"Mental health day I suppose," you excused. Sam drew his brow together.

"Are you okay baby? Honestly?" You weren't sure.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" You lied. You walked around the counter and into the kitchen taking a seat in one of the kitchen chairs. Sam left the stove and came to you. He towered over you for a moment before bending down. He tilting your chin up and captured your lips. Sparks shot through your body waking the butterflies in your gut. You'd always wanted to do this... You pulled back when things started to escalate. You didn't want to stop, but this all seemed so wrong. He smiled softly before returning to the food he was making.

You hadn't noticed that you'd picked up your phone until it buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out seeing "Pain In My Ass" across your screen. You answered it.

"Dean?" You asked.

"Hey! Is Sammy there? He's not answering my calls," Dean replied.

"Um- he's cooking breakfast," you answered, hesitantly. Sam wasn't paying attention.

"Dude, what the hell is going on?" You whispered, trying not to draw Sam's attention.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"I was in that warehouse checking out our case then the next I woke up next to Sam!" you whispered, urgently. Dean laughed.

"Damn, Sammy was right, whatever dream you had last night really did screw you up didn't it?" You pinched the bridge of your nose your head starting to ache from the confusion. Had everything really been a dream?

"Is that my sister? Tell her I said hi!" You choked on your air as your little sister's voice echoed in the back of the call.

"Lillian says hi," Dean chuckled. You didn't have the words to answer.

"Okay well, tell Sam we'll be a little late tonight Lil's got some stuff to take care of," Dean continued.

"Oh- okay.." You hung up before Dean had the chance to speak again.

"Who was that?" Sam asked, setting a plate of food down in front of you.

"Dean, said he's going to be a little late... Late for what exactly?" You looked up at Sam.

"Did you forget? Tonight is game night," Sam huffed, sitting down in the chair across from you. He dug into his food. You leaned forward and picked through the food. It smelled fantastic and tasted fantastic too, but your appetite was small.

"Game night... Right," you muttered, after a few minutes of picking through your food. You met Sam's concerned gaze.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? We can cancel if you need to," Sam ensured.

"No! No, that's okay. I'm okay, really Sam," you smiled, fakely. Sam sighed continuing to eat his food. You reached down to your wrist your body going alert. You rolled up the sweatshirt sleeve to find a bare wrist.

"Sam, did I take my bracelet off last night?" You questioned.

"What bracelet?" Your gut turned uneasily.

"The bracelet that Dean gave me for my birthday three years back," you explained, slowly. Sam scoffed.

"Dean wasn't around three years ago Hon," Sam corrected. Your fingers gripped your wrist.

"Right.. Don't know what I was thinking," you muttered. You hadn't taken that bracelet off since the day he'd given it to you. You weren't imagening that. You stood up from your chair and left the kitchen eyeing the dog that sat at the edge of the kitchen.

"Where are you off to?" He called, after you.

"I'm going to go for a walk," you replied. You entered your bedroom and closed the door locking it behind you. You paced for a few moments before pulling out your phone and sitting on the bed. You went through your pictures taking in each one. Ninety percent of them were of you and Sam, but some were pictures with other people from your family. You didn't see one picture with Dean which was odd. Dean was your best friend. He had been from the start. You were closer to Sam, but your love for him wasn't in the friendly sense like it was for Dean. That man had basically become your third brother. You set your phone aside and stripped out of your clothes changing into something different. You slid on a pair of jeans and a Van Halen t-shirt. You were surprised that there was no plaid in your closet nor Sam's. That was another red flag.

You rifled through your closet in search of your combat boots only to come up empty. You frowned settling on a pair of tennis shoes. You headed out of the room moving through the house and to the front door.

"Want me to come with you?" Sam called, as you grabbed the door handle.

"I'm good, thanks!" You answered. You opened the door and stepped outside. You backed up getting a good look at the house itself. It was a small brick house with a one car garage on the side. The yard around it was small, yet big enough for you. You glanced around the area not recognizing what town you were in. You pulled out your phone and clicked on your map.

"California?" You zoomed out on the map your eyes catching on one destination. Stanford University. That was the school Sam had been going to.. You tucked your phone back into your pocket and began to walk.

.

You'd wandered for hours eventually making your way back to your home. To your surprise Sam was outside along with the gorgeous dog. The dog was the first to notice you. It let out a loud bark before racing to meet you at the edge of the yard. You crouched down running your hands through its soft fur. You'd always wanted a dog. Sam jogged over to meet you as you stood up. Before you could speak he took you in for a soft peck.

"Thought you'd be gone all night!" he teased. You followed him back up to the house the dog trotting next to you.

"Yep, I planned to walk all night," you responded, quickly. Tossing sarcasm was something you and Sam always did, though you had to admit, Dean was better at matching your sarcasm. You gut clenched as you stood at the front door allowing Sam to hold it open. Your eyes met Sam's. The light in his eyes was almost blinding to you. The smile he offered you melted your heart. You couldn't help but return the smile before walking inside with Sam on your tail.

"So, we've got two hours before everyone shows up, anything you'd like to do?" Sam asked, grabbing your waist and spinning you around. You squeaked as your body collided with his. His other hand snaked around your lower back pulling you closer. Your eyes met his again sending chills down your spine. His pupils dilated slightly the longer he stared at you. It was odd, this look was familiar to you. He leaned down catching your lips in a breathtaking kiss. You couldn't help but lean further into him your hands finding his stomach.

You were hesitant for a moment until Sam suddenly moved. His strong arms moved down gripping the underside of your thighs. With one swift motion you were off of your feet. Without a thought you wrapped your legs around his waist hooking your ankles as best as you could. Everything was right. You attacked Sam's lips your confidence building as he manuvered through the house and back to the bedroom.

His knees hit the bed sending him down. Your back landed against the soft bed and to your surprise Sam caught himself above you. He stared down at you his pupils dilating. Your body heated up under his intense gaze. The feelings you'd been desperately pushing down had sprung free.

.

You slid out of bed and dressed yourself as the doorbell rang. Your body was tired, but pleased. You glanced over at Sam who still slept peacefully his body curved to where you had been. You smiled softly before heading out of the room. The dog was barking at the door in a high pitched tone. You opened the inside door your heart stopping at the sight.

Dean pulled the glass outside door open and engulfed you in a friendly hug.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked, letting you go.

"He's... He's in the bedroom," Dean smiled and headed that way.

"Dean I wouldn't do that!" You called, over your shoulder. You briefly heard Sam yelling before different arms embraced you. Your full attention was on them. They were soft and familiar, yet strange. You pulled back your heart clenching in your chest. Your sister stood before you grown and alive.

"Sis?" You gulped.

"Hey girl," she smiled, happily. You embraced her again burying your face into the crook of her neck.

"Geez, you act like you haven't seen me in years!" She giggled, pushing you off.

"Okay girls, reunion out of the doorway please!" You honestly hadn't noticed your brothers behind her along with John, Mary, and your father. You forced yourself to step back allowing them all inside. You hadn't been around to meet John, but you'd heard a lot about him that made you bitter toward him. They said their hellos each one hugging you.

"Hey dad," you murmured, as he approached you. He wrapped his arms around you making your warm up happily. This was perfect. He released you as Sam and Dean entered the room.

"Seems like you two had a little fun before we got here," Dean teased, finding a seat on one of the couches in the living room. Your sister sat next to him snuggling against his side. You stared blankly at them for a moment before you realized she had a ring as well. She married Dean? Your head ached slightly. Your brothers sat on the floor by the glass coffee table in the center of the room. John and Mary took a seat next to your sister while your father sat down in the secluded chair by the larger couch. Sam took a seat on the smaller couch that sat across from the larger one. You stood in the room taking in each member in the room.

"You gonna stand there all night or are we gonna play?" Dean laughed, drawing you out of your trance.

You shook yourself before moving to sit by Sam. Everyone was staring at you. Sam let out a low chuckle before he stood and fetched the games from a closet by the front door.

"Take it easy, she's a bit tired," Sam explained, setting the games on the table. Dean let our a hearty laugh. You'd never heard him laugh this much and the night was only getting started.

.

Hours had passed since your family had arrived. Everyone was laughing, yelling, and in your brother's case, crying over a loss. Everyone had settled in getting drinks and snacks for themselves. You laughed along with them as you set down your hand of cards. Dean growled under his breath passing you a twenty.

"Thank you!" You teased. Everyone laughed at Dean making you smile widely.

"Another round?" John asked. Everyone agreed, allowing Sam to shuffle and pass out the cards.

"I'll be back, I'm going to go get my sweatshirt, it's a bit chilly in here," you announced, standing up. You headed to your bedroom as their new game started. You picked up Sam's sweatshirt sliding it over your head. A scream left your lips as a young boy stood in front of you. His skin was pale as if he was dead. You stumbled backwards your back hitting the dresser against the wall. You heard a loud thud as Sam hurtled the babygate.

"Babe!" He was at your side in moments. His hands gripped you causing you to jump. You pushed him away your eyes leaving the boy. You whipped around only for the boy to disappear.

"What's wrong?" He asked, offering his hands in surrender. You looked between Sam and where the boy had been.

Dean, your father, and John stood in the doorway concern on their faces.

"I- I saw something.." You rasped, trying to calm your breathing.

"Hey, hey it's alright," Sam soothed.

"Did you see something outside the window?" Dean questioned. You nodded going along with it. You couldn't tell them.

Dean looked at the others.

"I'll go check it out." With that they left the bedroom and headed outside your brothers tagging along as they went outside. Sam cautiously reached for you guiding you to sit on the bed. He sat next to you.

"Are you sure you're alright? You've been acting strange since that nightmare you had last night." His concern was genuine. You didn't answer him as you leaned against him. Sam understood and wrapped his arm securely around your shoulder. The small ache in your head grew. Sam's hand rubbed reassuring circles against your arm.

After a few minutes Dean and your father returned to the room. "Anything?" Sam enquired, tilting his head slightly. Dean shook his head.

"Nothing, not even a sign that something was out there," your father piped. You snuggled further into Sam. Your husband let out a sigh.

"Stay here love. You should get some rest," Sam encouraged, slowly standing from the bed. You didn't protest as he followed Dean and your father out of the room closing the door gently behind him. You stayed in your spot tuning in on their conversation.

"Is she okay?" your father asked.

"I don't know... She's been acting strange ever since last night," Sam answered.

"Strange?"

"She had a really bad nightmare last night. It left her completely out of it. She didn't know where she was, what was going on, and she said we'd been hunting something." Silence followed for a moment.

"Maybe we should all call it a night," Dean suggested. The door opened again revealing Sam.

"Everyone's going to head home, would you like to wish them off?" Sam asked. You shook your head.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," you snapped, coming off harsher than you'd intended. Sam closed the door. You ran your hands through your hair your head aching. Your instincts were returning to you. You couldn't let this thing trick you anymore than it already had.

"They're not real... They're not real!" you repeated, standing suddenly. You began to pace trying to focus on the last thing you truly remembered. You had been hunting a monster. You desperately tried to think back. Sam had told you about Dean's run in with a Jinn. It had made his dreams come true. You wracked your brain trying to remember how Dean freed himself. You let out a frustrated groan pacing the room. You paused in your movements and closed your eyes. You opened them only to see the little boy again. Instead of panicking you walked toward him. You reached out grabbing ahold of him.

Yells echoed through your head causing you to let go. You recognized the voice but couldn't quite put a name to it. The boy was gone. You stumbled back hearing the door behind you open.

"Babe?" You pinpointed the voice. It had been Sam's. You turned to this Sam. You were conflicted. He seemed so real... You approached him reaching up and touching his cheek. The light stubble scratched against your hand. He was as real as you were. Your heart sunk as his warm hand came to rest over yours. All of your dreams were here... Your sister was alive and well, she even got married to your best friend. Your family was back together again and so was theirs. Sam, the man you loved, returned your love was you were married! You pulled back from him looking at the ground. This wasn't your place. Your Sam was looking for you. You knew it.

"I- I need to sleep," you said, suddenly. You didn't give Sam a chance to answer as you slid onto the bed resting on your stomach. Sam snuggled next to you warming you. You kept thinking about the story a thought occuring to you. Your gut twisted at the thought, but it had to be done. You would wait for the perfect time.

.

Once Sam had drifted off you carefully lifted yourself from the bed and headed to the kitchen. You dug through the drawers until you found a sharp knife. You held it in your hand for a moment before lifting it.

"What are you doing?" Sam's horrified voice growled, as the knife pressed against your throat. Your attention shot to Sam who stood across the counter.

"S-Sam.." you choked, tears stinging your eyes. He slowly came around the counter.

"Stay back," you warned, placing it closer to your neck. He put his hands up in surrender fear coursing through his wide eyes.

"Put the knife down," he pleaded. You shook your head.

"I have to do this. I shouldn't be here," you shook, keeping the knife in place.

"Don't say that..." he whined, taking a step closer.

"This isn't real Sam! You're not real! I can't stay here.. I can't just leave you," you cried, tears springing out onto your cheeks.

"If you do this I'll be alone, please don't leave me," he whimpered. You shook your head.

"If I do this everything will go back to normal.." You explained. He took another step closer.

"I love you... Please don't do this," he pleaded.

"You don't love me! This isn't real!" You shouted. The knife stung your neck. Before you could move his hands were on yours. The warmth made you jump. He moved your hands down and you didn't fight him.

"Do you feel that? That's real." He didn't let go.

"No... No let go," you sobbed.

"No! Don't you understand? I'm real. I'm here. You don't need to do this."

You pulled back from him taking the knife with you. "Please don't do this.." Your sister's voice called. She stepped out from behind Sam.

"We want you here... If you leave I'll be nothing but a memory," she explained, calmly. Your father stepped out as well.

"I-" You stared at them. You didn't want to leave them, but you knew you couldn't stay.

"I'm sorry..." You put the knife back to your neck.

"I guess this is goodbye?" Sam murmured, coming to stand close to you. You nodded slowly. Sam leaned forward watching you for one last kiss. You cried into the kiss closing your eyes. You ran the knife sharply across your neck.

Cold and pain washed over you. Your wrists stung above your head. Your head and neck throbbed. Someone's hands were on you. "Hang on," I'm gonna get you down. Dean in here!" Sam's voice echoed in your ears. The hands moved up touching the binds on your wrists. You didn't have the strength to open your eyes, but a raspy groan left your lips as the binds dropped. Your body collapsed into strong arms.

"Easy, I've got you," he soothed. You were lowered down and placed with part of your back against a solid chest.

"Did you find her?" Dean called.

"Get the others down, we've got to get them out of here," Sam ordered. You heard shuffling which told you Dean was listening.

"Can you hear me? Hey, stay with me," Sam pleaded, shaking you gently. After a moment your body was lifted off of the ground completely.

"Please don't leave me," Sam's voice came, softly. Everything faded around you leaving you in darkness.

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