#the likelihood i would be brought back

[july-19th-club]

one thing about getting sick for me is that before covid (the first time) my colds and flus and whatnot all went in a very specific pattern: i would get a sore throat for a day or two, then violently congested for three or four days, then a runny nose/drainage for three or four days after that, and finally a cough, which was my favorite part of the cold (if a person can be said to have a favorite part of a cold) because it meant it was almost over AND that the problem was largely not in my face and neck anymore. but any illness i've had since that first covid has been all over the map - either i don't get the sore throat at all, just straight into the congestion, or the sore throat happens at a different time, or longer, or worse, or i have to spit a lot because otherwise i get so nauseous from sinus drainage that i throw up, or the congestion and the runny nose happen concurrently with not just each other but ALSO the sore throat (which is what's happening right now and i hate it) and like. because it doesn't follow the pattern i spent twenty-six years of my life getting used to, i'm always freaked out. which i would be anyway because ever since i had the first covid getting sick freaks me out. and it should freak more people out if im being honest. but this is a weird one bc like. i dont know how it did that but it disrupted MY trusty sick pattern

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 42: Comfort and Joy

Summary: Tis the season to be jolly...

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8, 417 words

Warnings: Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omegaverse, alternate universe, slight angst at the beginning, blood and disturbing imagery, nightmares, PTSD, lots of comfort, holidays

A/N: Yes, CRCB is getting its holiday episode. Something holly and jolly before Christmas, some sweet comfort for the last chapter of this year. It's kind of rough but I don't hate it. I hope everyone feels the same. Happy Holidays to everyone

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It’s quiet in the house. 

There’s a stillness in the air that seeps into your very soul. The only light is from the street light outside. Your father never allowed you a nightlight despite your fear of the dark. You weren’t allowed to show such weakness in front of him. God forbid his family have any flaws. 

You’re the flawed one. 

It’s too quiet in the house, not even your brothers’ snoring audible in the tense quiet that has settled over your safe space. It has your breathing shallow so as to not disturb the heaviness in the air. Your sister is asleep in the bed across the room, tucked under the blankets safely. Sleep evades you however, something tickling in the back of your mind. 

Something is off. Something is wrong. 

“Hannah.” You whisper, disturbing the darkness in favor of not feeling so alone in the oppressive silence. “Hannah.” 

Yet your sister does not stir, showing no sign of even acknowledging a disturbance as she sleeps deeply. You bite your lip, sinking back further under your covers. You could wake one of your brothers, but the likelihood of one of them helping ease your fear is small. They’ll just usher you back to bed and tell you to grow up. You could attempt to rouse your mother, but that runs the risk of also waking your father. If nothing is wrong, it will be your doom. 

Maybe it’s all just in your head. Some terror brought on by a lingering nightmare. 

You need to get up. You can’t lay in the darkness anymore. 

So you rise from the safety of your blankets, padding silently across the wood and out into the hallway. There’s a nightlight allowed out here to prevent stumbling in the dead of night. There’s nothing in the hallway, no silent spectre waiting to grab whoever leaves their room first. You creep silently down the hallway towards the black gaping maw of the living room waiting just beyond the edges of the light. 

You stand there at the end of the hallway, gazing into the darkness for a moment. It’s not truly dark, light filtering in through the curtains from the streetlights outside. Yet the darkness feels thicker than it ever has before as you stand there, waiting for a shadow to move. 

Nothing moves, and after a breath you turn to the left, cutting through the dining room straight towards the kitchen. It’s darker in here, cut off from the street, yet you navigate it with ease. You’ve spent many nights navigating through the darkness, creeping around the house when you can’t sleep. 

You enter the kitchen, heading for the cupboard that holds the cups. Your mother used to give you warm milk when you couldn’t sleep. Sometimes you’d rise to find her awake, sitting in the living room. Sometimes she’d be crying. Sometimes she’d just be sitting with the lamp on, staring into the distance. 

It always made you wonder what she was thinking about. 

You stand on your toes, reaching up for a glass. It nearly falls and hits the counter but you manage to catch it, preventing what would no doubt be a crisis. You let out a breath before moving to the sink, filling the glass up. You stare out the small window that shows nothing but the fence between your house and the neighbors. All the houses are the same, built after the same model with the same green grass out front. It’s like a movie set, some suburban setting for a drama or a horror movie. 

The oppressive darkness feels like a horror movie. 

You turn to head back to your room, but you’re stopped by a figure standing in the entrance to the kitchen. You can just make it out, large and looming in the darkness. For a moment you think it’s your father, awakened by something, some instinct telling him there’s something moving around in the house. It’s not the right size to be your father, though, too tall and long. 

You stumble back towards the light switch, your fingers shaking as you flip it on. 

“Phil?” You ask quietly, staring at your father’s best friend in shock. You haven’t seen him in almost two years. 

His mouth opens in a haunting grin, blood pouring down his chin. You stare in horror as blood soaks into his white shirt, dripping onto the floor below. The cup slips from your hand, shattering on the floor as his hand wraps around the knife stuck in the side of his neck, pulling it free. Blood sprays across the white cupboards, painting them like some gruesome work of art. 

“Look...what you did...to me...” Phil says, his voice nothing more than a gurgling wheeze. 

He reaches out a blood soaked hand towards you, sending you stumbling back. Glass cuts into the bottoms of your feet, sending shards of white hot pain up your legs. You don’t care, too busy trying to evade the bloody hand trying to grab at you. You slip in the water on the floor, falling backwards, the back of your head seconds from hitting the side of the counter...

“Easy, easy.” 

Arms are around you, holding you tightly as you sob. Your feet are burning as you sit there on the kitchen floor. It’s not the kitchen in your old home, though, it’s the kitchen in the cottage. Your feet are burning with sharp stabs of pain. There’s water soaking into your pajama pants. 

“You’re alright.” 

The light is on, raining down bright yellow light from overhead. You hate it, the oppressive light burning your eyes. You squeeze them closed, trying to ease the pounding in your head that pulses in time with your heart. 

“...sleepwalking I think...” 

Voices float in and out as you sit there, leaning back against something solid and warm. There’s arms around you, holding you tightly, your own arms trapped up against your chest. You tilt your head back, resting it back against the solid warmth. 

“Almost hit her head...” 

“Move her to the couch...”

“It’s not that uncommon during times of extreme stress.” 

You wince as another tiny piece of glass is pulled from your foot. 

“Even if someone has never experienced sleepwalking before, it can start at any age.” 

“Is this something we need to worry about now?” 

“It’s hard to say.” Dr. Keller dabs at your foot with a damp towel streaked with pink from your blood. “It’s one of those things we’ll just have to wait and see if it was a one-time thing or if it will become a regular occurance.” She dabs at your feet with the towel before shining the flashlight on them again. “You want to talk about the nightmare?” 

She’s talking to you now. 

“No.” You say, the word strained and weak from your lips. Your face feels tight from the tears you had shed in your confusion and delirium. The nightmare is still fresh on your mind, replaying like some sick television show, over and over in your head. 

She gives you a look, but doesn’t press anymore. She won’t ask again, not in front of your pack at least. 

She lets your feet rest on the coffee table before moving closer to you. Her hands cup the back of your head, pressing down on certain spots. “Does your head hurt?” 

“No.” You say, ignoring the throbbing behind your eyes. 

“Well, thanks to Kyle’s quick reflexes, I think we’ve avoided a concussion.” She says, turning to Kyle. “How’s your hand?” 

“Fine.” He says from where he’s sitting next to you, flexing his fingers. “I’ll take aches and pains if it prevents a hospital visit.” 

“That’s the last thing we need right now.” John says. 

You can’t help but wince at his words. 

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Thankfully there wasn’t any serious damage.” Dr. Keller says, wrapping your feet in gauze. “Just try to take it easy for a couple of days. Walking isn’t going to feel very good for a while.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really.” 

“I think it might be good to talk about it.” 

“You’re as bad as Dr. Keller.” 

“Well, she and I agree that holding everything in isn’t going to help anything.” Kyle says, taking the seat next to you. “We just want to help you.” 

“Unless you can crawl into my mind and fix my memories, I don’t think you can help with this.” You say bitterly. 

“Well, I can’t do that, but I can listen.” He gives you a look. 

You choose to ignore it. 

He continues to stare at you as you turn your gaze out the window. It’s raining again, light droplets hitting the window. You can feel yourself beginning to crack as he continues to stare at you, his gaze not sharp and prying, but instead soft and inviting. He really wants to know, not out of curiosity or need, but because he cares. He wants to help, even if it’s just listening. 

Can you be brave enough to share? 

“I woke up in bed, but not in the cottage. I was in bed at the house we lived in before I was sent to the institution.” You swallow the lump in your throat threatening to choke you and cut off your words. “It was the house we moved to shortly after Phil left. I remember feeling something was off after I woke up, something was wrong but I couldn’t figure it out.” Your mouth suddenly feels dry. “I went to the kitchen to get some water and Phil appeared there in the darkness. He...” 

You trail off for a moment, the memory of what he had looked like in your dream sending a spike of fear through you. You had thought the one positive of Phil being dead was that he couldn’t haunt your dreams anymore. He’s not out there hunting you, seeking you out. He’s dead, burned to a crisp in that barn. You made sure of that. 

“He had a knife in his neck. He was bleeding.” Your voice shakes as tears prick behind your eyes. You hate it that you’re still crying over Phil and his hold on you even in death. “He said....he said ‘look what you did to me,’ and pulled the knife out. I dropped the glass of water and slipped in it. I was falling but then I woke up.” 

Kyle is silent after you finish, the quiet settling heavy between you, as heavy as it had felt in your dream. You know you sleep walked through part of your dream. You went to the kitchen for water and dropped the glass. You slipped in the puddle and nearly hit your head on the counter if Kyle hadn’t found you seconds before and cushioned your fall with his hand. Your feet still sting from stepping in the glass, even though the puncture wounds and cuts have mostly healed. 

A warm hand touches yours, fingers curling around yours. Kyle’s rough skin, calloused by handling weapons and fighting for so many years, drags against yours as he slowly lifts your hand away from the arm of the chair and up towards his face. His breath is warm as it hits your palm, his soft lips pressing against your skin. You turn to face him, tears still blurring your vision as you sit there, staring at him. 

“It was just a dream.” He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. “No one is going to hurt you. Phil is gone and we’ll be damn sure nothing else can even try.” He presses your hand against his cheek, your fingers trembling against the smooth skin. “You have nothing to fear.” 

“Only what’s in my head.” You whisper. 

“What can we do? How can we help you defeat those demons plaguing you?” He asks, threading his fingers through yours. 

You stare at him for a while, taking in his face again. It feels like so long since you’ve really looked at them, since you’ve truly taken in their features. You’ve almost forgotten what they actually look like, your mind always conjuring up muddy images of their faces in your memories. 

You’ve forgotten just how pretty and perfect he really is. 

How...disarming his face is. 

“I don’t know.” You whisper, your thumb stroking his cheek. “I don’t know.” 

The breeze is cold, whipping around you and biting at your cheeks. The blanket tucked tightly around you stops the wind from chilling you to your bones. You don’t care about the cold, your gaze out on the waves crashing against the shore. 

“Cold?” Johnny asks, tightening his hold around you. 

“No.” You say, fighting back a shiver as you lean further back against his chest. The last thing you want right now is to leave the beach. 

“Somethin’ tells me I shouldnae believe you.” He says, squeezing his body around yours. 

“Well, whatever it is, it’s wrong.” You say stubbornly, shoving your hands in your armpits to keep them warm. 

“Stubborn little thing.” He says, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Should be headin’ back soon anyway.” 

You let out a whine in protest, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “I want to stay here forever.” 

“I know.” He says, letting you go just enough to pull his phone out of his pocket. “Wish I could let ye.” 

You can’t stop the shiver that shakes through you at the loss of his warmth. It is cold and getting colder as the sky gets more grey overhead. The sun is going down, the darkness of the evening rolling in earlier and earlier every day. 

“Time to head back.” Johnny says, pocketing his phone. 

“Five more minutes.” You whine, trying to lay all of your weight against him. 

“I have direct orders to get you back stat.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. 

You let yourself flop back on the blanket you’ve been sitting on, looking up at him as you lay there in the sand. The wind is picking up, blowing some of it onto your face. You sputter, pulling yourself back up to sit. 

“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, tucking his hands under your arms before lifting you to stand. “Let’s head back before it gets dark.” 

He brushes the sand off of your blanket before picking up the other one and shaking it. He drapes it over his arm before guiding you back up the path towards the car. You take one last look over your shoulder at the water before following him to the parking lot. 

It’s dusk when you get back to the cottage, the lights from inside glowing warmly through the windows. Johnny takes your hand, leading you up the steps and into the cottage. 

It’s warm inside, the rest of your pack moving around in the kitchen and dining area. You kick your boots off, passing your blanket off to Johnny before heading into the living area. The table is all made up, many dishes sitting out ready to be served, all of them looking very familiar.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping closer to the table. 

“It’s Thanksgiving.” Dr. Keller says, stepping out of the kitchen with a tray of meat in her hands. “I thought you might like to celebrate.” 

“Oh.” You stand there for a moment. You didn’t even realize what day it was. Time has been so strange with no phone or television to give you an idea of what day it is. It’s been moving quickly, almost four weeks since the day you were taken. “Is that why you let Johnny take me to the beach?” 

“We wanted to surprise you.” John says. “I know you don’t like surprises, but this felt like a more appropriate one.” 

“I don’t like surprises, but this is really sweet.” You move towards your normal seat at the table, looking at all of the dishes laid out. 

“We made all the classics, or at least as close as we could get with what we have available.” Dr. Keller says. 

“It’s pretty close, but then again I’ve only had Thanksgiving once.” Ashley says, coming out of the kitchen. You hadn’t even noticed her car parked outside. 

“Thank you for this.” You say, still a bit taken aback by the gesture. “I didn’t even know it was close to Thanksgiving. Time...time seems so weird now.” 

“A lot has happened in a short amount of time.” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back. “That can skew how we perceive time passing.” 

“I also don’t have any way to tell time.” You shrug. 

Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile. “Well, we’ll see if we can rectify that.” 

Everyone takes their seats at the table in their usual spots, except for the extra chair next to Dr. Keller for Ashley. You recognize the strategic move, even if the rest of your pack pretends not to notice. Dr. Keller also pays it no mind, but you can’t help but notice the bashful look that flashes across her face when her hand brushes Ashleys as food gets passed around the table. 

You load up your plate, digging in almost immediately. You hadn’t realized how hungry you got down at the beach, not until you came back to a cacophony of delicious smells. It all tastes good, all of it throwing you back into reminders of your childhood and Thanksgivings with your family. While your father still had expectations of proper behavior from you and your siblings, it was tradition that he’d spend most of the day in his chair. Your mother did all of the cooking, you and your siblings helping when she’d allow. 

You never truly understood how much work she put into every holiday until you were older. 

Thanksgivings at the institute were never the same as Thanksgivings at home. You got the day off of course, and there always was a better meal that day with the classics, but it always felt so manufactured, not unlike the food on base. You never realized how much you missed home cooking until now. 

You never realized how much you missed your mothers food until now. 

Tears blur your eyes as you continue to eat, trying to distract yourself with heaping spoonfuls of food. 

“You doing alright?” 

Of course the one time John would notice your melancholic state would be right now. The entire table pauses, turning to look at you. You start to curl in on yourself, not wanting all the attention all at once on you. 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat, wiping the tear that betrays you and falls down your cheek. “Just tastes really good. Reminds me of my mom’s cooking.” 

The words slip out before you can stop them, tumbling out onto the table and landing among the mashed potatoes. Things suddenly feel very vulnerable, very raw. You wish you could grab the words, shove them back in and make them all forget your admission. You don’t want the soft stares, the sympathetic looks in their eyes, the understanding. You want to crawl under the table and hide until the moment passes. 

“I-I think I just missed home-cooked food.” You try to save the moment from growing more embarrassing for you. 

“I second that.” Johnny says, the tension in the room lightening just a bit. “Easy tae forget what good food tastes like sometimes.” 

“I’ll give it to the Americans.” Kyle says, recognizing your desire for the attention to be off of you at this moment. “They do know how to do a good feast.” 

“We can do more than good food.” Dr. Keller says, sounding almost offended. 

“Like Halloween.” Johnny says. “What I wouldnae give to have an American Halloween.” 

“You just want an excuse to eat candy until you’re sick.” Simon rumbles. 

“I wan’ tae do more than that.” Johnny gives him a look. “Costumes, the parties, trick or treatin’. All of it.” 

“Maybe we’ll have to take you to America next Halloween.” Dr. Keller says. “Let you get a proper taste of the holiday.” 

Next Halloween. 

You’re not even thinking a week ahead, much less a year. You’re not even sure the others have thought much about what the next few months will look like. Where will you all be in a year? You can’t stay at the cottage forever, as much as you would enjoy it. At some point a decision has to be made. Where do the five of you go from here? 

The conversation begins to lighten, the attention thankfully being drawn off of you again. That doesn’t save you from John’s gaze, though, his eyes flicking up to you every so often. You try not to meet that gaze, keeping your eyes down on your plate as you eat until you’re stuffed full. Yet you can’t help but look up when his gaze lingers too long, when your omega shifts under the scrutinizing gaze of an alpha. He’s trying to read you like he used to be able to. You wish you could hide better from him, but you’ll never be able to truly keep your thoughts and feelings under wraps. 

Not from him. 

You’re banned from the kitchen as food is cleaned up and placed in the fridge and dishes are washed. Instead you find yourself on the couch, staring into the flickering flames of the fire. Kyle takes a seat next to you, sitting down with a quiet groan. 

“How are you?” He asks, draping his arm on the back of the couch behind you. 

“Fine.” You say, still turned to face the fire. “Full.” 

He lets out a quiet chuckle. “Same. Don’t think I’ve been this full in a long time.” 

“That’s the point of the holiday.” You say. “Eat until you pass out.” That’s what your father used to do, slipping into a food coma after dinner in his chair. As much as you hate him, you do miss those quiet evenings where you could loosen up and not care about his calculating gaze. 

“Feeling tired?” He asks, and you can feel his questioning gaze hitting the side of your head. 

“No,” You respond, and it’s the truth. There’s far too much going on in your head to even nap right now. 

It falls silent for a few moments, only the sounds from the kitchen and the crackling of the fire breaking the silence. You’re far away in your thoughts, replaying the last few weeks over and over in your head. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” John asks, breaking you from your reverie. He takes a seat on the other couch, facing you. 

“Just thinking about how much time has passed.” You answer, tucking your knees up close to your chest. “It’s been almost a year and yet it feels like it’s only been a few weeks.” 

John hums. “You would have been with the CIA already by this time.” 

You nod. “Yeah. I was picked up just after Halloween. Didn’t really have Christmas last year. The CIA wasn’t exactly the most festive place. They had bigger things to worry about.” 

“Did you miss it, Christmas?” He asks. 

“Well, yeah. Of course, even if we didn’t really celebrate much in the institute either. We didn’t have any gifts to give each other outside of things we were supplied with by the institute. They didn’t really bother decorating either. We got the day off, of course, and we had a nicer meal than usual, but it wasn’t really some big festive celebration.” You shrug. “It was always a big deal in my house. It was my mom’s favorite holiday.” 

You cut yourself off before the emotions can get to be too heavy. You’ve already almost lost it once in front of them today. The last thing you want is to risk that again. You’ve spilled too many words already. The last thing you want is to spill more. 

John’s gaze leaves you to look at Kyle next to you, the two of them sharing a silent conversation. You’ve always envied their abilities to speak to each other without words. You wish you could know them that well, you wish you could understand them on that level. You wish you shared the bonds they have with each other. You’ll always be the odd man out, the outsider. You’ll never have that closeness, that ease with which they exist around each other. 

You’re beginning to see it again, the fluidity between them, moving around each other without needing to look, always aware of the others. Here you are again, on the outside of that once more. Things really have gone back to the way they were before, back when things were new and foreign and unknown. You’re an unknown factor in this dynamic again, all of them tiptoeing around you like you might explode if they get too close, if they push those boundaries again. 

Part of you hates it. Part of you likes it. 

You’re not sure what to feel anymore. 

You tilt your head back, thumping it against Kyle’s hand. “Sorry.” You quickly sit yourself back up. “Done that twice now I guess.” 

“No need to apologize.” He says, his hand dropping to your shoulder to lean you back again. His hand gently cups the back of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your scalp with his fingers. 

You let out a content hum, your eyes fluttering closed. It falls silent between the three of you as Kyle slowly works you into a comfortable, content state. Your omega begins to almost purr contently, and for the first time in a while, she doesn’t feel quite so out of control. 

The days start to make more sense as you now have an idea where you are on the calendar. It’s the end of November, meaning in just a few weeks it’ll be Christmas. The guys haven’t said anything about celebrating, so you haven’t gotten your hopes up. Still, you can’t hide that itch in the back of your mind, that desire to have a proper celebration for your first year out of the institute. 

“You know you can tell them what you want.” Dr. Keller says, sitting in the chair next to you. “We’ve gone over this. I’m sure those guys would turn the world upside down if you asked them to.” 

“I just...I don’t know how.” You say. “What if they have no plans for Christmas? What if they weren’t planning anything? What if this is too last minute?” 

“There’s a little under a month till Christmas. It’s hardly last minute.” Dr. Keller says. “Even if they say no, then we’ll have a celebration. Just the two of us.” 

“You’d do that for me?” You ask, turning to look at her. 

“Of course. If you want to celebrate Christmas, then we will, no matter what the others decide.” She says firmly. “If they don’t wish to participate, then they don’t have to.” 

“That’s...really kind of you.” You say. She’s done so much for you already, and here she is offering to do more. 

“It’s what I’m here for.” She says. “Whatever you want to do. Decorate, bake cookies, go shopping. All of the above.” She reaches over, squeezing your hand. “You’re in charge.”

You’re in charge. 

Your omega nearly preens at the words, starting to get excited. Yet, you’re not quite sure how you feel about that kind of pressure being placed on you. It’s not in your nature to be in charge...or at least that’s what the institute taught you. Omegas are submissive and follow their alpha’s orders. 

The institute was wrong about a lot of things, though. Maybe you do want to be in charge. Maybe if you’re in charge, things will start to get better. Maybe if you’re in charge, you can finally get your pack in line and get them doing what you want them to do. 

It’s far too early for you to be awake. It’s still dark out, no light filtering through the gaps in the curtains. There’s light coming through the gaps in the door, though, and you can hear quiet rustling. 

“It’s still crooked.” You hear Kyle’s voice through the wall. 

“I’m doin’ the best I can.” Johnny retorts. 

More rustling and quiet tinkling sounds through the wall. There’s no more hope for sleep for you now, your interest far too piqued as to what they’re doing. You slide out of bed, rubbing your eyes as you pad across the cold floor to the door. 

You’re not ready for what you find on the other side. 

All four of them pause as your door opens and you take half a step out the doorway. You freeze, hand still over one of your eyes. Johnny is standing on a stepstool, leaning over a tree. Kyle is standing next to him, peeking around him to look at you. Simon is frozen in front of the fireplace, garland hanging from his hands. John is standing between the couches, a round ornament in each hand. 

You slowly lower your hand from your eye, sweeping your gaze over the four of them once more. “What are you doing?” You ask, even though you already know the answer to that question. 

“Decorating.” The four of them say all at once. 

“We were going to surprise you when you got up.” Kyle says. 

“We were trying to be quiet.” John says. “But those two muppets can’t get the star properly on the tree.” 

“You’ve got it on the branch wrong.” Kyle says. 

“It won’t go any other way.” Johnny argues. 

They go back to what they were doing, almost as if you’re not there. You’re glad for it as tears begin to fill your eyes. They’re decorating. They were decorating to surprise you. You can’t help but wonder if Dr. Keller expressed your desire for a proper Christmas to them on your behalf, but part of you knows she wouldn’t do that. She’s pushing you too hard to take control to do that. 

Maybe they’re doing it because they want to. Maybe this was their plan all along. 

“Let me do it.” Kyle says, tugging on Johnny’s shirt. 

“I can do it just fine.” Johnny persists, still fiddling with the star on the tree. 

You roll your eyes, moving over to them. “Move. I’ll do it.” 

Neither of them argue as Johnny steps down off the stool, letting you climb up. You can feel their hands hovering as you stand up on your toes, reaching for the top of the tree. You bend the top branch, situating the star on properly for them. 

“See! I told you.” Kyle says, his hands still hovering as you climb down off the stool. 

“My way would have worked just fine.” Johnny pouts. 

“I’m sure it would have.” You shrug, patting his arm before walking away. 

You join John in sorting through ornaments as Kyle and Johnny finish adjusting the lights on the tree. They’re all brand new, sealed in the boxes still. So they went shopping for all of this. You don’t suppose a summer house would have Christmas decorations laying around. It’s touching that they did this for you, even if they didn’t know you’d want it. 

“Thank you.” You say, fiddling with the hook on one of the ornaments. “For doing this.” 

“It wouldn’t be fair to not give you a proper Christmas.” John says. “Not when it means so much to you.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips, tears starting to fill your eyes again. “I appreciate it. More than you know.” 

You don’t flinch as he reaches out, gently running a hand over your head as you wipe the tear that falls. It’s nice, feeling his touch again. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, holding his hand against the side of your head. You barely realize you’re doing it as you press your nose into his wrist, breathing in his fresh, woodsy scent. Petrichor, damp earth. It fills your nose like it did the first time you scented him, making your head spin. 

For the first time in a while, your omega lays comfortably in the back of your mind, settled contently back into her cage. 

You stand there nervously, staring at your alpha. He hasn’t acknowledged you yet, giving you a moment to gather yourself. You’re nervous, your palms sweaty, even if you have nothing to be nervous about. The worst he can say is no, and then you’ll have an excuse. Or he’ll say he’ll do it himself, then one surprise will be ruined at least. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

Sweetheart. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard that nickname spoken in such a way. Your omega rolls over and shows her belly, ready to submit to his quiet purr of your nickname. 

“I...I wanted to ask you something.” You say, shifting nervously on your feet. Now is the time. Now is when you have to be brave and voice your wants. 

“Go ahead.” He says, putting his phone down and turning to face you.

You almost wish he wouldn’t. You wish he’d stay turned away, attention on his phone so he can half pay attention to what you’re saying. No, instead he has to give you his full attention and put even more pressure on you. 

The words catch on your tongue, choking you as you attempt to be brave, as you attempt to take this leap into unknown territory. 

The worst he can say is no. 

“I want to go Christmas shopping.” The words come out fast, almost slurring together in your haste to voice them before you lose all the courage that led you to this point. 

He leans back in his seat and you prepare for the worst, you prepare for the no waiting to come out and put an end to your silly little request. You’ll sulk and cry about it in the safety of your room. Now you have to be strong. 

“Okay.” He says. 

You nearly turn and run in shame before the meaning of the word settles into your brain. You stand there in surprise, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Okay?” You parrot, your brain still trying to comprehend what it is he’s saying. 

“Okay.” He repeats. “You’ll have to take one of us with you, though. You can’t leave unprotected, even with Christine.” 

“I’ll go.” 

The voice makes you jump, spinning on your heel to face Simon. You hadn’t even heard him approach. You stare in surprise at the other alpha. He hasn’t made much of an effort to insert himself back into your life. You were half sure he hated you again with how he’s been acting. 

“Alright.” John says, his voice almost as surprised as you feel. 

It will be nice having the hulking alpha following you around. You think back to when you went lingerie shopping with Johnny. How long ago that seems now. People had gone out of their way not to walk too close to you and your protector. No one will want to mess with you with him around.

“Go with Christine.” John says, making you turn back around to look at him in surprise. 

“Really?” You ask in disbelief. 

He nods. “I think it will be good for you, getting out of the house. Just don’t stay out too long.” He turns back to his phone and you turn back to look at Simon, but he’s gone. 

“This might be a tad bit overwhelming at first.” Dr. Keller says as she drives through town. “It’s been a while since you’ve been in a populated place.” 

“I’ll be fine.” You say, even if you don’t really believe it. You had prepared for this possibility in the days you’ve thought about this trip. 

John wanted you to go early on a weekday, when it was less likely to be too crowded. While crowded might hide you better, it also left too many possibilities for someone to sneak up on you. 

“You say the word and we’ll go.” Dr. Keller says. “I can always come back later and finish shopping for you.” 

“Okay.” You say, still staring out the window at the buildings. It’s been a while since you’ve seen so many buildings all in one spot. 

Simon is quiet in the passenger seat, also watching out the window. You wonder what’s going through his head, if he regrets volunteering to come along. You wonder why he did volunteer in the first place. You know safety is of the highest concern now while Shepherd is still out there. Does he not trust anyone else to protect you? That’s a possibility. 

There’s another rift in the bonds. 

Dr. Keller pulls into the Tesco parking lot, many cars there even for so early in the morning. Everyone else had the same idea as John. 

“Try to make this as quick as possible.” Simon says as you undo your seatbelt. “The sooner we can get in and out, the better.” 

Dr. Keller gives him a look, something passing between the two of them before she opens her car door. You get out as well, pulling your jacket tighter around you as the cold air hits your skin. It had been warm in the car, the heat cranked for your sake. 

You’re half tempted to hold Simon’s hand as you cross the parking lot. You doubt he’d let you. He might pull away and that would be worse. That would ruin the whole trip. Old habits, you think. He’s barely spoken to you, so much as made an effort to rekindle the relationship between you. That would be pushing things too far. 

Instead you stick close to Dr. Keller, trying not to panic as you walk into the building with the bright lights and the people. It’s gross, making you squint for a moment as Simon grabs a cart, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. 

“What are you planning on getting?” Dr. Keller asks, trying to distract you. 

“I-I don’t know.” You stay, blinking at aisle after aisle of products. “I didn’t think this far ahead. I thought John would say no.” 

“Well, what do you think they’d like?” She asks. 

What would they like? What do they like? You’re drawing a blank as you think about them. How little you know about them too. 

Kyle. Kyle likes skincare. He’s always prioritized that on base. Maybe you’ll get him something related to that. 

You start for the cosmetics section, Simon following like a shadow behind you and Dr. Keller. What kind of skincare does Kyle like? You know he uses coconut oil after he showers. He always smells good. Maybe something exfoliating? Something moisturizing? Both? 

You stand in front of the skincare, drawing a blank as you look at the many options. Dr. Keller and Simon stand there quietly as you deliberate, suddenly overwhelmed by the choice you have to make. 

“Who are you shopping for right now?” Dr. Keller asks, obviously picking up on your discomfort. 

“Kyle.” You say. “I know he likes skincare.” 

“Hmm.” Dr. Keller hums, looking at the options as well. “How about something like this?” She picks up a gift set with cleanser and moisturizer. “Something to cover all the basics?” 

You nod. “Okay. That sounds good.” 

Simon says nothing, offering no words of advice as she puts it in the cart. Maybe he doesn’t even know his own pack that well. Or maybe this is his way of showing his displeasure for you. Let you flounder and get the wrong thing. You want to believe he wouldn’t be that cruel. 

You wander the aisles, looking for gifts for the other three. You pass by a spa kit, pausing for a moment. You should get one for Dr. Keller. She deserves some pampering and relaxation after weeks of taking care of you. 

You put two in the cart, grabbing one for Ashley as well. 

Johnny. What does Johnny like? Art. He likes art. Maybe something with art supplies. 

You head for that section, Simon still following behind silently, aside from the clinking of the cart as he pushes it. 

You pause as you pass by a display of teddy bears. Johnny sleeps with a stuffed bear. You know that. You’ve cuddled with it yourself. It’s probably back on base with the rest of your belongings. He must miss it. 

You grab one, putting it in the cart. 

“For Johnny.” You say as Dr. Keller gives you a look. 

Simon still doesn’t say anything, but his scent reaches your nose as you walk past him. 

The alphas. John and Simon. The two you seem to know the least. What do they like? What would they want as gifts? Simon likes knives and masks, but you’re not sure you could just buy a knife in the UK like you could in America. You could just ask him, considering he’s here with you, but that feels almost intrusive. He’ll know what you get him regardless, but asking him seems like a daunting task. 

You continue wandering the aisles, looking for something that John might want. 

You pass by a gift set of tea, pausing as you stare at it. He likes tea. He might like some other options than what’s at the house. 

You put it in the cart. 

Now Simon. The hardest of the four. 

You continue wandering the aisles before you pause in the books section. Simon likes to read. You do know that. You’ve scoured the shelf at the cottage enough to know what’s there and what’s not. Maybe you’ll get Simon some new books. Something that’s not available to you currently. 

You pick out a couple before putting them in the cart. 

“Okay.” You say, staring at the selection you’ve grabbed. “I think I’m done.” 

“You’re sure?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. I don’t want to do anything too over the top.” 

You really don’t. The last thing you want is to do too much too soon. 

You pause as you walk past the candy aisle, grabbing a handful of candy canes and putting them in the cart before heading for the checkout. 

Dr. Keller pays with cash as you load the bags into the cart. You’re ready to be out of the store with its bright lights and loud music and people. It’s starting to get busier, more and more people coming in the doors there to do their Christmas shopping as well. 

Simon loads the bags into the trunk as you climb into the car with Dr. Keller. 

“How do you feel?” She asks as you let out a breath. 

“A bit overwhelmed.” You say honestly. 

“It’s a lot going from isolation to a supermarket. I think you did good, though.” She praises you. 

The door opens as Simon climbs into the passenger seat. He’s barely said a word the entire trip, looming in silence like he used to. Part of it makes your chest hurt, that he would regress so much after what happened, but part of you understands. He had to make a big decision on your behalf, push himself past his comfort zone to save your life. Of course he’d want some distance after everything. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want anything to do with you again. 

It’s far too early when light seeps into your room before disappearing. You keep your eyes closed, willing whoever had just entered your room to vanish before they reach the bed. 

You’re not so lucky, a hand settling on your shoulder and gently shaking you. 

“Time to rise and shine.” A soft voice says. 

You let out an irritated grumble, trying to pull the blanket up over your head. 

“It’s Christmas morning, don’t you want to go open your presents?” That hand shakes you again. 

“Sleep.” You murmur, curling up in a ball under the comforter. 

“It’s already 10 am.” The voice says again, tugging the blankets down. “They let you sleep longer than they wanted.” 

Last night was a rough one. You had laid awake far too late, staring at the ceiling and then you woke from a nightmare in the middle of the night, and it had taken time to calm yourself and fall back asleep. You’re still exhausted, your eyes burning from tiredness. 

You let out a grunt of displeasure, but you know there’s no getting out of this one. You’re going to be getting up no matter what. 

You slowly stretch out your limbs, rubbing your eyes. “Fine.” You yawn, turning over to press your face into the pillow. “Be up soon.” 

“No going back to sleep.” The hand rubs your back gently. “Then I’ll have to send one of them in and they won’t be quite so nice about it.” 

You hum into the pillow, already feeling sleep tugging at your brain. Despite the warning, your mind sinks back into the comforting realm of rest as your body relaxes back into the bed. 

You’re not sure how long you get to rest before the comforter is torn off of you, landing somewhere on the floor. Hands roll you over and sit you up before your brain can even process. You blink the rapidly fading sleep from your eyes as you’re hauled up, flying through the air for a moment before you’re tossed over a broad shoulder. 

“Time tae get up.” Johnny says, packing you towards the light filtering in through the open door. 

You let out a whine as he packs you out into the warmth and the light before lowering you back down on your feet. Hands stop you from falling backwards, Johnny’s t-shirt clad chest coming into view as you blink the blurriness from your vision. 

“Happy Christmas kitten.” He says, grinning brightly at you. 

You mutter something that sounds like ‘Merry Christmas’ back to him. His hands slowly spin you around, turning you to face the tree. 

You blink in surprise as you stare at the many presents on the floor under the tree. You weren’t expecting that much, though you suppose with six people in the house there would be quite a bit. It’s one gift though that draws your attention. It’s seated on the far side of the tree, nothing but a bow on top of its head. 

“You...you got me a giant bear?” You ask in surprise. 

“Was Si’s idea-oof.” Johnny coughs as Simon hits him on the back. 

You walk over to it, pulling the bow off of its head. You’ve missed your giant bear and the comfort it brought you. That’s the one thing you wish you still had from the barracks, that you’ve been wanting for for weeks. It’s bigger than the one at the barracks, the top of its head reaching your chest when you’re standing in front of it. 

You let your hands run over the soft fur, squeezing its plush face. There’s no cameras in this one. You know they’ve checked, ensured its safety. There’s no one looking back at you as you stare into its dark eyes. 

“What do you think?” Kyle asks. 

“I love it.” You say, trying to stop the waver in your voice. The last thing you want is to cry on Christmas. “Thank you.” 

“Come on.” Hands guide you to the chair, letting you sit down. “You’ve got a lot to open.” 

The next hour is a flurry of wrapping paper and bows as presents get passed around. You open up new shoes and clothes, a set of lacy panties courtesy of Johnny, new books, strawberry scented soap and shampoo, and some other comfort items. 

You’ll never forget Johnny’s face when he opens your gift to him, his eyes lighting up as he stares at the soft bear you picked out. It gets you a big hug and a kiss to the cheek from him, and you know he’s going to be sleeping with it tonight. 

You’re exhausted by the time the last present is opened, rubbing your eyes again. You hadn’t even changed out of your pajamas, feeling underdressed compared to the others. Yet at the same time it makes you feel like a kid again, tearing into presents on Christmas morning, excited to see what you got. 

You look around the room, John and Kyle starting to bag up wrapping paper and clean, Johnny on the couch next to Simon holding his bear, Simon sitting near the fire already cracking open one of the books, and Dr. Keller and Ashley on the other couch talking, sitting very close. It brings a small smile to your face. You’re happy for them. It’s nice to see Dr. Keller getting something positive out of this stay at the cottage. 

You can’t help but think that whatever happens next, maybe it might not be so bad after all. 

“Think we should wake her up?” Kyle asks. 

“No.” John says, standing next to him. “It’s the most relaxed I’ve seen her in weeks.” 

They both stare at you where you lay near the tree, draped over your large bear. You’re sound asleep, mouth slightly parted as you snooze away. 

“I think she likes it.” 

“It was a good choice.” John agrees. “It will certainly help make her more comfortable.” 

“I can’t wait to see how she’s going to fit that on the bed.” Kyle says with a soft smile. 

“Well, you certainly won’t be joining her when she does.” John smirks. 

“I think I can live with that.” Kyle says. “Like you said, whatever makes her more comfortable.” 

“I’m glad she’s loosening up a bit.” John says, turning away from you to head back towards the dining table. 

“So am I. She deserves to feel safe and comfortable.” 

“She does. We need to make sure she feels that way all the time, no matter what.” 

“I want to help her.” Kyle says longingly. 

“I know. And we can, but we have to let her lead.” John says. “The best we can do is listen to her and give her what she needs, even if it's not what we think is best. We don’t really know what’s best for her in the end. Only she does.” He reaches up, cupping Kyle’s cheek. “We need to focus on each other too.” 

“I know.” Kyle says, leaning into his touch. “I want to.” 

John’s lips twitch in a small smile. “Good. Because so do I.” 

NEXT ->

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[sirxlla]

You Randomly Get Kidnapped but You Can Handle Yourself (Batboys)

(Requested by @nesting-dreams ily sm thank you for all the ideas/prompts xxx)

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Dick: He was never one to have or tell you what you could and couldn't do. For you, you wanted to work a job like a regular person even though he said he would financially support you. You didn't want to feel like you were mooching off of him.

So as unfortunate as it was you were trying to get in your vehicle after working a really long shift at the hospital while on the phone with Dick, a man came up behind you and they were very swiftly beaten with a metal waterbottle.

Dick was obviously very worried cause of what he heard and he was already patroling the area which meant he very swiftly came to you. You were sat ontop of the man, his arms pinned under your knees as you brutally smacked him over and over with a waterbottle.

"You wanna kidnap people in the middle of the night, You Little Shit?!" You were yelling.

Nightwing had to pull you off of the man noticing the damage you did, it took everything for Dick not to laugh at this man. He got beat up by a tired nurse with a fuckin waterbottle, needless to say he was proud and the man was swiftly arrested. The pair of you went home to have a well deserved nap.

Jason: Being the man he is he decided that it was a fantastic idea to give you a very strong tazer for your birthday because he thought you might need it and you really wanted one.

"I hope someone would, I'll taze their dick off!" You waved the uncharged tazer around very happy about the gift.

"You'll taze their dick off?" He laughed as he appreciated your enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, when you hope for something bad to happen it usually brings bad things around, you we're trying to get into the apartment with Jason was on the other side which of course the dumb ass trying to kidnap you didn't realize that.

By the time Jason get out there you were very clearly tasing this mother fucker in the balls. The man was groaning in very obvious pain, a shot of electricity to the family jewels didn't feel very good.

"You wanna go again, Asshole? You want me to taze you in the mouth, I'm sure that shit hurts just as much."

"I think you got him, Babygirl." He was smiling with full pride. He knew you would never use the taser without knowing 100% that you could do it without getting hurt and you very successfully did.

The man was left there and Jason brought you back inside, put your tazer back on the charger and then showed you all the ways he was very proud of you.

Bruce: He really didn't want you to have any sort of self-defense tool because he knew that if you fought back the likelihood that they would hurt you is extremely higher.

Naturally, you being you you bought a little bracelet that if you press it then it makes a very loud noise which can hurt whoever's ears you're pointing it at.

Another feature on there is that it sent him your location which was probably something that he would have been okay with if that's all it did but alas it was not.

From sparring with Bruce you knew a lot and this asshole pissed you off, trying to kidnap a woman while she was pumping gas? "I think the fuck not."

You had very promptly pushed the button and cupped it against the man's ear which caused him to get disoriented and fall flat on his stupid face.

"That's why you don't mess with girls at the gaspump! Suck my metaphorical dick, Motherfucker!" You would think that this was a Fortnite game with the way that you were acting, to anyone else it would have been the funniest thing ever but of course Bruce doesn't have the biggest sense of humor.

He thought what you were doing was reckless and stupid, you should have gotten your car and left. Bruce proceeded to lecture you the entire night about exactly what you should have done and why it was dangerous and how you're lucky that it didn't turn out worse than it was.

"We don't take pride when we hurt someone and we sure as hell don't gloat. What we're you thinking? He couldve got up. That was reckless."

Tim: Tim craved coffee like it was some sort of drug needing to be injected into jis veins and you really really loved the little muffins the coffee shop had. You got up early in the morning and we're making your way to the coffee shop.

You figured out you were being followed quite quickly so of course the only thing you had in your bag was your wallet and maybe a few pens. Nothing the regular person would think would be overly useful in a situation like this.

The pen was useful though if you used it right, it was swiftly brought between your fingers, you texted Tim you were being followed. He very promptly shot out of bed to protect you, throwing on whatever close were scattered around the messy bedroom.

Once he found you, you were leturing the man on all the places you could stick the pen. The man was on the ground pinned to the floor. None of the Batboys were ever gonna let their woman go out of sight without some sorta training.

"I could stick this in your jugular, if you'd like. I could gove you the choice you were never gonna give me."

"You could stick it in his eye, its less lethal and could be considered an accident." Tim chimed in with a smile, the smile on Tim's face was quickly matched by yours.

The man underneath you was panicking because for all he knew you two were complete psychopaths considering jow many Gotham has. He started begging for you to let him go, You got off him while clicking the pen which made him run off like a little crybaby.

Tim and you walked hand and hand to the coffee shop like nothing ever happened. You both knew the pen wasn't what scared him if was your confidence and the way you spouted things off like a crazy person.

Damian: Damian was very much his father's son and he would do the same psychotics weird ass shit that Bruce did. The only difference was he asked you and you very clearly said no to a tracking device being put in you but that did not stop him from doing it and he did it very easily without you noticing.

Of course he didn't know anything was wrong until he noticed that you're tracking device really didn't move too much. He was kinda worried but it was instantly interrupted.

The phone rang and it was a guy calling for ransom while a guy in the background argued with you and said something about you stabbing him in the ass.

"We want a million." The man said off the bat.

"That's all your gonna ask for?!" Then there was the sound of the phone hitting the floor while you beat the shit out of them with a chair leg.

"You should really have better quality shit if you're gonna kidnap someone!" You yelled while the two men grunted on the floor, the first one had had the chair smashed into his back and this one was being wacked with a chair leg.

Damian showed up in regular clothes, he could tell by the phone call you didn't need any help.

"How the fuck did you know where I am?" You asked with clear suspicion and irritation.

"I traced the cell phone call." He lied very easily but there was something off and you could tell. He always kind of scratched his chin when he told you a lie and he had a shitty poker face.

"You put a tracker in me?! When we get home, you are cutting it out. I dont care that you track me but I'd rather not have a weird piece of metal in my body, Damian! I already have this stupid birth control for you, but at least that shit's been tested."

He knew that there was no point in fighting with you so therefore when the both of you got home, he cut it out and he stitched it back up and did everything he could to apologize without actually saying the words. You wore tracking bracelet from then on, a lot less invasive of the body.

Damian definitely was left apologizing over that for months cause he knew he betrayed your wishes and your trust. It was flowers, jewlery, gifts galore. Damian was never good with his words, you knew he was sorry but you wanted him to say it. Once he did the tension between the two of you quickly evaporated into thin air.

-> Masterlist <-

-> Send me prompts if you'd like <-

[maple-the-awesome]

Another Link Crushes On You || Part 1/3

Part 2 || Part 3

Pairings: Hyrule, Time, Sky x GN Reader

Overview: You've known Link for years - Well, a version of Link. Neither of you have seen yourselves as being anything more than friends, although it seems not all Link's think the same, in fact when you're introduced to the Chain, one of the boys happens to fall pretty hard for you. I spun a wheel to let fate decide upon random pairs this time. Needless to say, I had a lot of fun with some of them😁

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. 'was beginning to think you might be dead in a ditch somewhere," You scoff, making your presence known as you lean against the door frame coolly while eyeing your long lost roommate and, more importantly, the company he’s brought home, "Hylia's sake, one of you is enough as it is. Now nine?"

Legend breathes your name in a sigh, not so much as glancing away from the chest he currently digs through, "I can always count on you for a warm welcome."

Despite the sarcasm and rolled eyes, you don't seem to actually hold any true disdain towards one another. Quite the opposite, an observant bystander would notice how the Vet's shoulders relax upon hearing your voice, and how there’s a slight curve to your lips following his snark reply. You’re someone who brings him comfort; someone the Chain can trust.

Pushing yourself from the doorframe, you give them a friendly smile and wave, “I take it you must be the other heroes Link’s told me about in his letters - Less I’m to believe he found yet another ragtag group of misfits to drag around with him…It’s nice to finally meet other people who can bear to put up with his nonsense. I’m his roommate, by the way. Sorry I wasn’t around last time you stopped by.”

"Oh, so he has two roommates then -?”

“- His actual roommate," You correct with an annoyed huff. Of course, it's only half hearted, "Ravio doesn't count since he doesn't pay rent."

"He should. He's around enough," Legend's voice is echoed by the chest.

There’s more conversation to be had as the two of you bicker, although much of it becomes muted ambience for Hyrule who takes to wandering the room in awe of his predecessor’s impressive collection. Boomerangs and gauntlets, hammers and feathers, even an entire little chest overflowing with enchanted clothing…Sure, it’s probably not practical to most, but an adventurer can dream, can’t he? Amongst all of this stuff, Hyrule can’t decide what seems more interesting. The magic rods? A library of maps? How about the unique magical instruments lining the walls?

“...You're the one who practically showed up on my doorstep just begging for a place to stay."

"Really? Because I remember finding and nursing you back to health out of the kindness of my heart after you got your ass kicked by a moblin.”

"I had everything under control -”

- Just then, while half distracted by the argument behind him, Hyrule accidentally bumps into a shelf which causes its contents to shake violently. His shoulders tense in preparation for the awful sound of shattering no doubt followed by Legend’s scolding, but before one of the potions can hit the floor, a hand skillfully dives to catch it.

“Careful there. You could really get hurt with some of the stuff in here,” You smirk, setting the potion back onto the shelf before turning around with your hands placed upon your hips, “I keep telling Bunny this place could be more spacious if he’d just sort through some of this junk, but he’s too emotionally attached to it all to ever take my advice.”

“It’s good to be prepared, I guess,” Hyrule stammers, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment - At least, that must be why he feels so nervous all of a sudden. What other reason would there be? 

“There’s already been a few times when the Vet’s items have saved our tails.”

You hum, cocking your head to the side as you look the brunette over. In all likelihood, it’s probably only a split second that your eyes glance his way, yet it’s enough to make him feel see-through. Are you judging him? Do you see how knotted his hair is or how desperately his face needs to be washed? 

Golly, you’re attractive yourself - which should be a perfectly normal thing to think because yes, conventionally speaking, you could be found very attractive and for good reason. How did Legend and you meet again? Did he say it was strictly platonic or are you already spoken for? Is that even something Hyrule should be thinking right now? Why would he be thinking such a thing when all you’ve done is look straight into his soul - …And you’re gone.

Regardless of whether you noticed Hyrule’s internal panic, you end up straying from his side to start sorting through a nearby chest yourself. If he hadn’t been stunned stupid, he would’ve heard the words you speak to the group while tossing aside items, “Here’s an idea: maybe some of you guys can take a few items off Link’s hands - Split them up amongst the group to get it out of our hair -”

“- Absolutely not!” Legend’s voice comes from somewhere over the heaps of junk, not that it does anything to stop you.

Finally finding whatever it was that you were looking for, you stand up and make your way back over to Hyrule. Before he can react beyond a jolt, you take his hand and place something in it before putting your own on top. Your touch is soft in contrast to his own rough skin. Oh, and that wink you give him - It’s enough to make his face explode in red. It could be deadly for his heart to race any faster!

“...Don’t let him catch you with it,” You whisper, and that smirk you give makes him certain you know what you’re doing.

“I - um - Oh, sure…I -”

You chuckle at the flustered boy, regrettably removing your hands from his before once again leaving his side. He thinks you say something about refreshments, maybe lunch, but honestly, he’s as good as gone to this world. It takes a bit of shaking from Four and shouting from Wind to properly snap him out of it, at least enough so to finally look down at his hand. 

There’s a small blue telescope in his grasp, and it’s with that that he finally decides: you are probably, by far, the most interesting thing to be found here in Legend’s collection.

This is nice - peaceful, even, which tends to be a rare gift these days. Granted, the sun is a little too bright, and it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if someone walks away from this island with a nasty sunburn (most likely Twilight and Wild), but at least there’s somewhat of a gentle breeze to balance out the heat, and a quiet moment protected from any childish shenanigans is never something to turn down.

Most of the boys have been whisked off by Wind who had deemed it a crime that some of them have never seen the sea before. Those who managed to escape his attention have hopefully been keeping out of trouble on their own, basking in much needed time to themselves elsewhere on the island (after all, it does get tiresome traveling in such a large group for so long).

It matters not which deity has decided to smile down upon him today and grace him with this break. What matters is Time’s relaxed - as relaxed as a man with his background and mindset can ever be - while standing here in the sun, soaking in its glow and your perfectly tranquil company.

Ah yes, he hasn’t been left entirely alone. You’re here, too, but unlike his traveling companions, you’re closer to his age and thus seem to match his level of maturity and easygoing nature - a godsent in these trifling times, really. 

Currently, you sit upon the porch humming a pleasant little tune while combing Aryll’s hair. She sits between your legs, happily swinging her feet as you work small handfuls at a time, your movements as gentle and careful as the breeze - And that adoring look in your eyes…It could be enough to melt any heart.

Time finds himself being put at ease by the domestic sight, wordlessly admiring how effortlessly you balance caring for the young child while conversing with a stranger like himself, speaking to him softly as if a personal friend of yours:

“Link’ll probably want to stay with his grandma tonight, but the rest of you might do better staying with me. I’m sure she’ll offer, though I’d worry about the stress hosting so many traveler’s would put on her,” You explain, skillfully dividing Aryll’s hair into two blue ribbons, “I have space in my own hut, so there’d be no trouble.”

“It’s nice weather,” Time mentions, gazing up at the clear sky above, “None of us would mind sleeping under the stars -”

“- No trouble at all,” You emphasize with a breath, pretending not to hear his own point. He merely smiles, having no will to argue. They haven’t been here long, and yet this is the second argument he’s unlikely to win against you. The first was your insistence that they stay the night at all with promises to host them well. 

Once finished with her hair, Aryll thanks you in a hurry before scurrying off to find her big brother. You chuckle at her enthusiasm, but soon after, there’s a shift in your mood. Suddenly, you grow a bit sad and anxious. Time can’t help noticing the concern that briefly overtakes your expression, twisting your lips into a frown as you raise a nail to nibble on. Now that you’re truly alone, he can no longer mock ignorance to how exhausted you look, and it takes no genius to understand why that may be.

“...Rupee for your thoughts?” Really? That’s the best he can come up with in all his years of wisdom? It’s such a lame way to break the silence and an even lamer way to start a serious conversation with someone you’ve only just met.

Fortunately, you don’t seem to hold any judgment against him. Instead you sigh and look at him from over your shoulder with a sorrowful smile, “Is my stress that obvious?”

“I’ve been around long enough to know a mask when I see one,” Pushing him off the beam he’s been casually leaning against, Time invites himself to finally sit beside you on the steps. 

You don’t say anything all too quickly in response, rather you turn back to the sea with a deep inhale.

“...I worry about him,” You eventually confess through a whisper,“Every time he comes back from one of his adventures, he’s…different. Not enough so for anyone else to notice, but I do. He’s getting older - more mature, for better or for worse - and the things he’s had to witness - the battles and responsibilities that no child should ever have to bear - I can’t help seeing how it’s all starting to wear him down, slowly but surely.

“...And I know - I know this is his destiny and that he’s already saved the world once. I know he can handle himself, but he’s - he’s still just a boy! He shouldn’t have to bear the burden of the world upon his shoulders! He should be running around this island, digging for treasure in the sand and catching pigs. Instead he’s finding treasure in dangerous dungeons and fighting pigs!”

Time frowns. What can he say to comfort you? That it’s all going to get better? That maybe, one day, Wind will return home and stay for good? Even though you’re a stranger he has no obligation to, he can’t bring himself to provide an empty promise like that, because out of all the heroes here, he knows best that it would be a lie. This road they’re on - This road the Goddesses have sent each of them down - There is no end to it…Not one that he’s found, anyway…

Fortunately or unfortunately, Time doesn’t get the chance to collect his thoughts nor offer any words of encouragement (if he could’ve even decided on some). You sigh before he has a second to respond, suddenly looking back at him with an optimistic smile only half fitting of the current mood, “...You’ll keep an eye on him, won’t you? Make sure he doesn’t get too ahead of himself, at least during the time that you’re all traveling together?”

"You have my word."

At a minimum, he’s able to give you that promise. The road ahead is rugged and treacherous with fearsome monsters around every corner…but Time can promise that he’ll give his all to protect those in his party. No harm shall fall upon any of the boys so long as he’s able to take a blade within his own hand. He’ll see to it that Wind returns to your arms at the end of this journey, safe and sound with plenty more stories to tell.

Your sigh releases some of the tension kept within your mind and bones, “...I wish none of you had to go through any of this…”

“At times I wish the same…” His agreement is flat and not exactly what you had hoped to hear, even if it is expected, but at least his next words seem to touch your heart more tenderly, “...But it’s not ourselves who we fight for. It’s people like you; people who deserve to live to see times of peace. The world’s safety will always be payment enough.”

As a captain in the Hylian Royal Army, Warrior’s experience doesn’t quite follow the same origin as most of his counterparts. His training had been professional and grueling, the weight upon his shoulders more direct than a mere whisper in the wind guiding him. He didn't have the luxury of stumbling upon his destiny or sneaking in to find Ganondorf when the time was right - No, he was publicly named then pushed by circumstances to meet Ganondorf on a battlefield, of all places.

It’s a life few in the Chain can exactly relate to, although some similar undertones aren’t missed upon Wild and Sky. While Wild isn’t one to draw any attention to it, perhaps not remembering enough about himself to know why any of this may or may not feel familiar, Sky’s a bit more acclimated to this systematized environment than his brothers, even if it is still rather different than home.

The army of this world clearly functions on a far larger scale than any of the knights back on Skyloft, and the air carries more tension than what could ever be found in a classroom, even on testing days. Nevertheless, Sky appreciates how much pride Warrior takes in showing off his world, not letting the stern expressions of anyone they pass dampen his excitement, after all, despite some previous experience fighting alongside inhabitants of other timelines, it’s rare that he’s given the chance to be the host himself, not a simple guest.

"There's someone I'd like you guys to meet!" The Captain announces at the same moment his eyes and smile lighten considerably. Clearly, he’s spotted a new target, one he makes a quick b-line for with the others close on his trail.

A call of your name is all it takes to capture your attention, although contrast to Warrior’s spark, you seem far less amused with your reunion.

“And where have you been?” You hiss, your narrowed eyes disapproving as they basically dare your friend - colleague, maybe? - to try excusing his sudden absence and casual reappearance. Now that’s an expression that really sends Sky back to his days at the Academy! Why, he’s only seen it about a hundred times on his instructors over the years!

"Working," Warrior must be accustomed to being on the receiving end of such a harsh glare, because he completely fails to even acknowledge it, instead swiftly changing subjects as he gestures to the heroes behind him with much fanfare, “I came here to introduce you to -”

"- Sailor!” It’s funny how quickly your expression switches, igniting like a fueled fire. Within seconds, you’re rushing right past Warrior to embrace the youngest hero of their group, “Now there’s a face I’ve missed! Long time no see. Oh, look at you! Have you gotten taller?”

Luckily, Wind seems just as happy to see you, giggling and practically hanging onto you as you rub your knuckles into his hair. With your arm still tossed over his shoulder, you raise an eyebrow towards the rest of the Chain who now feel suddenly out of place, not certain if they should also know you.

Warrior comes up to your side to explain, “Funny story, but everyone you see before you is a reincarnation of the hero’s spirit.”

“Ah! Heroes from different times?” You gasp, pressing a finger to your chin as you look them all over with serious consideration yet hardly any surprise. Maybe you’re just as used to this sort of thing as Warrior is, “...Now that you say that, some of them do seem a bit familiar…”

“You must be the Hero of Twilight Midna spoke of!” You conclude with a point towards their Rancher who jolts. Whether because of the sudden attention or the mention of a sore name, he won’t get the chance to say, “I’m guessing so anyway, based on her descriptions, although I must say, she made you sound more…-”

“- Brutish? Rugged?” Warrior’s smirk is smug yet sadly untouchable amongst the careful watch of the surrounding military.

“I was looking for a nicer word, but that is what she said, isn’t it?” You sigh with a defeated shrug before turning to the oldest of the group. You gasp once again, this time with more heart, “And you! You kinda look like -! But it couldn’t be…Is that you Sprout?

“Talk about someone getting taller! The last time I saw you, you were only yea high!” Time’s thankful that you don’t give him the same treatment as Wind, instead minding your distance while awing at the height difference between you both now, although your smile soon turns sorrowful the longer you look him over, “...Your adventures haven’t been kind to you, have they?”

“In case you haven’t already guessed, this is the historian friend I’ve mentioned before - The one who probably knows more about us than we’re to know about ourselves at this point,” Warrior finally explains to his confused friends, coming up to place his hands upon your shoulder, “Give us a favor and try not to overheat now.”

“Oh don’t be so jealous,” You shoot him an unamused glare and swat him away, however he’s saved from any more scolding when you at long last look to Sky. Based upon what little the Captain has mentioned about you up until this moment, you’re a simple Hylian with no powers beyond your strength with a sword and impressive knowledge of Hyrule’s history…So why is it that your eyes have suddenly managed to freeze him like stone?

"As for you, I recognize that shield from Skyloft's era which means...You must be the Hero of Sky!" Your expression once again lights up like a beacon as you swiftly take his hand and give it a firm shake, not seeming at all fazed by his stunned stance, "You're the Master Fi spoke of, I take it? It's an honor to meet you."

"I, uh - It's an honor to meet you, too," At least he gathers enough of his wits to stumble out some words.

"I must say, Skyloft was one of my favorite places we visited during the war. Such a peaceful island - Well, after getting past the life-or-death battles that brought us there in the first place," You say, nudging Warrior as the two of you snicker. Oddly enough, Sky feels a bit disappointed to lose your focus and even more so to see the bond Warrior and you clearly share. Why, though? Why feel so omitted from someone he’s just met?

Fortunately, the negative feelings don't sink too deep until your attention becomes solely trained on him, "There's so little that has survived in our history books about your time - a real shame, too. As the first hero, I'm sure you have some unique experience under your belt."

"I-I guess you could say that…" Sky mumbles awkwardly, shooting a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Then, suddenly feeling a bit bold, he decides to test his luck with an offer, "I could, um, tell you about them if you want?"

Your eyes widen while Warrior rolls his, "You shouldn't have suggested that -"

"- Really?! Well, I'd love to hear it!" Before he can react, you have Sky’s hands sandwiched between yours, your touch impressively soft despite your years of training and fighting or maybe he’s just imagining them that way, "Could you start with the Imprisoned? We fought it a couple of times during the war and man, was it a pain. Fi mentioned you thought it yourself several times. Tell me, how did you -"

"Aaand we lost them…" Warrior groans, face smacked against his hand as you practically drag Sky off without so much as a goodbye to the others, "We're not going to get a word in ourselves for a while now. Let’s just go see if we can’t get an audience with the Queen and come back for them later.”

[fairuzfan]

"Israel also secretly hires Jewish Americans as spies to work out of its Washington embassy and its consulates around the United States to covertly surveil and monitor fellow Americans, including students. Thoroughly vetted to ensure loyalty to Israel, many of those hired have spent years heavily involved in pro-Israeli activities from the time they were in college and before. Among them was Julia Reifkind, who led a pro-Israel group at the University of California at Davis before moving on to become an activist with AIPAC. After she graduated in 2016, she was hired by Israel and assigned to its embassy in Washington.

Reifkind had good preparation for her assignment. Thinking that Kleinfeld was a fellow pro-Israel activist, over dinner at Washington’s Mari Vanna restaurant she revealed that while at AIPAC she spent much of her time deceiving college students about her covert connection to the organization. “Obviously, I’m an AIPAC-trained campus activist,” she said. “When you’re lobbying on behalf of AIPAC, you don’t say AIPAC, you say, ‘I’m a pro-Israel student from UC Davis.’ And when you’re meeting with students on campus I would never say, ‘I am the AIPAC campus rep.’ I’d say, ‘My name is Julia and I’m a pro-Israel student.’”

At the embassy, Reifkind focused on developing intelligence on fellow Americans, including students on college campuses. “So nobody really knows what we’re doing,” she said. “But mainly it’s been a lot of research like monitoring BDS.”

In a different conversation, Reifkind explained: “It’s mainly gathering intel, reporting back to Israel. That’s a lot of what I do. To report back to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Strategic Affairs, and make sure they have the right information.” Among the ways she spies on pro-Palestinian activists and Palestinian human rights supporters is with phony Facebook accounts. “I have my fake Facebook that I follow all the SJP [Students for Justice in Palestine] accounts. I have some fake names. My name is Jay Bernard or something.”

Once Reifkind collected the intelligence on her targets, she passed it on to her boss at the embassy. Then it was sent to the Ministry of Strategic Affairs and other offices over a secure encrypted system called Cables. It’s “really secure,” she said. “I don’t have access to [it] because I’m an American.… I’ve seen it, it looks really bizarre…. And then they’ll send something back and he’ll translate it and tell me what I need to do.”

Since the brutal Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians on October 7 and the Israeli invasion of Gaza, the ICC and its US-based spy networks are no doubt working overtime. But there is little likelihood of interference by the FBI—well trained to look the other way when it comes to Israel. It was a situation that even frustrated a former head of the FBI’s counterintelligence division. When I asked him why no one would talk to me about Israel’s massive espionage in the United States, he simply shook his head.

“You don’t think Israel’s a sensitive topic?” he asked, requesting that his name not be used. “So, Israel has been looked at and is being looked at and that’s all I can tell you,” he said. “But nobody’s doing anything.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“You can imagine,” is all he would say, implying high-level political involvement. I then said that I was planning to write about the topic. “I hope you do. I hope you do,” he said. Sighing, he added, “I’ve been there done that. I know it. I’ve brought cases to the Department of Justice on Israel.” Cases that were never opened."

— Israel’s War on American Student Activists by James Bamford on The Nation

[justkending]

However Many Tomorrows it Takes. (One-shot)

Summary: It's not a big deal? People get shot on the job all the time. We patch it up and move on. So why is he so adamant that I don't make a few jokes here and there? Is it really that serious-? Apparently, it is.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 3100+

A/N: As requested, another angsty, injury, one-bed trope, Bucky fic :) Enjoy, and let me know what you think! ❤️‍🔥

________________

“Is that blood?” 

“No?” 

“That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”

I look to Bucky, blinking a few times, and he stares at me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes?...” I follow with as if not sure what the correct answer was. 

“Dear God, how much blood have you lost to be this stupid?” he grumbles, moving to me and quickly assessing the damage, even if he doesn’t know the spot of my wound. 

“Hey now. Can’t blame a girl for trying to curve an obvious disappointment glare you were winding up,” I retort, having my arm harshly raised so he can get a better look at my side. “Hey! I’m fine!” I argue, snatching my arm back down and giving him a look. “Stop that.” 

“You’re. Bleeding,” he says it loudly and slowly as if I’m hard of hearing, but I know it’s just him playing into the fact of his joke early that I would have to be incoherent to not realize the depth of the problem at hand. 

“Thanks, Einstein. I thought I was just sweating red sticky liquid,” I smack his hand as it reaches for my side again. “Cut it out!”

“Stop acting like a child,” he grumbles, and I step back, getting another long glare from him, showing me his patience is soon to be extinct. “Let me see-”

A loud shout down the alley on the city outskirts, where we were working, brought both of our attentions ahead. 

“We can role-play doctor and patient later. We have bigger things to check off on our to-do list,” I say, starting to jog backwards, wincing at the sharp pain on my back, and as Bucky runs alongside me, he gives me a judgmental look. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay alive so you can ridicule me about my life decisions later. I know how much you love that after a mission,” I chuckle, hiding the new wince that threatens to take over my features as I turn and run full force to another hiding spot, trying to get away from the guards we set off on our heist.

We managed to make it back to our hideout, and while Bucky chatted on the phone with Steve, he made me promise to shower and change so he could check my wound after he was off the call. 

“Don’t overdo it,” he warned, phone still up to his ear as he positioned it away from his mouth and pointed a finger at me. 

“Don’t play mama bear, it’s annoying,” I say, pointing to him the same way as I leave the room. 

We were in a disheveled apartment flat slightly in the city limits- a good distance from our mission point. It didn’t have much as it was a safe house for temporary cover and reset, but it had a working shower, a mattress on the floor, and a few necessities to stay a night or two if needed. 

If we were lucky and on the right track, we wouldn’t need to stay the night, but until we got reports back from Steve about how successful our infiltration was, we weren’t sure how long we’d be here yet. My hope? A few hours. Likelihood? Longer than that…

“Steve says they received one of the files we sent from the lab, but they’re waiting on the next one to come through. Should be in the next hour, but if not-” he says, walking down the hall and turning into the one room the place had, he sees me in front of a mirror, trying to see the bullet wound on my back. “You were shot?!” he says in surprised terror as he stomps in quicker to the room. 

“Grazed. I was grazed,” I correct, focusing on trying to get a better angle, but before I know it, I’m being gripped by the waist and turned in Bucky’s hands as he squats down to get eye level with it and holds me steady. “Hey now!” I say almost losing my balance in the switch-up, but his hands are secure and strong, keeping me in place. 

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” he says through his teeth as he grabs my hands and forces me to hold my shirt up so he can examine it better. 

“Because we were kinda running for our lives,” I answer with a sigh and slouch in my spot as I hold my shirt up bunched above my stomach. 

He grumbles something under his breath and stands guiding me to the wooden chair I’m not sure is 100% stable, and sits me in it softly before leaving the room. 

“What’s happening?” I ask dumbfounded to being politely manhandled. 

I shouldn’t be surprised, considering he gets like this each mission, but luckily, it’s been a few years since I’ve had an injury as such, and he was around for it. Usually, I’m on missions with others, and considering that we have a nitpicking and annoyed forced friend kind of bantering going on constantly, I still figured he’d tell me to slap a band-aid on it and call it a day. It’s what he does for himself…

He comes back in with a first-aid kit in hand, the scowl permanent on his face as he steps into business mode. 

“Keep your shirt up,” he instructs, opening the white plastic container and rifling through it for the appropriate medical tools. 

I don’t really fight it as I know it’s pointless. Besides, I have nothing better to do as we wait to hear if we’re stationed for the night, or if we are making a 6-hour flight home soon. 

“Like I said, it’s just a graze,” I say as he grabs a sanitizing wipe and sprays it with disinfectant. “The healing process won’t be bad,” I say, looking down as he brings the doctored gauze strip to the cut, and I take a breath in, knowing the sting to follow. 

When I grit my teeth ready for the discomfort that follows, I don’t expect his hand to rest on my knee in silent assurance and support as he presses it, and the slight distraction makes the initial sting numb. 

I look down at him, and he’s focused on the cut, being gentle and not at all abrasive like he’s been stomping around here and demanding. 

It’s quiet as he fixes me up, squeezing my knee before another sting occurs. As he’s applying the biggest bandaid in the kit over it (a touch overkill if you ask me), he looks up at me, arm resting on his knee where he’s been squatting the entire time. 

“Do me a favor. Stop getting shot. It stresses me out,” he says with a straight face, but a hint of genuine concern is laced in there. 

As he goes to stand, I sigh and playfully reply, “Well, if you don’t like it...” 

“No one likes it,” he says, wiping his hands on a cloth, looking over his shoulder with a warning look. 

Ok. Serious Bucky is still here even after the danger has been evaded. 

I sigh, putting my sarcastic personality to bed for the night. You can only fake that you’re unbothered for so long before people see through it. Bucky is a ‘people’. Bucky has always been ‘people’ when it comes to me. For whatever reason that is… I have no clue. We’ve always kinda… budded heads? I don’t know how to explain it because it’s temperamental most the time. However, it’s a known fact on the team, that the battle of stubborn asses will likely come into play if we’re around each other long enough. Seems the battle is itching for a start. 

“Ok, you know you can play along, right? You don’t have to be so uptight,” I roll my eyes, adjusting my shirt and moving to my bag for my sweatshirt. The flat doesn’t have great sealing on the windows and doors. It’ll likely be a cold night. 

“Or you can take the fact you got shot seriously and not kid around about it,” he responds, grabbing the first aid kit and organizing it. He was an organizing fiend when he was upset or needed to hone his energy somewhere else so he wasn’t in his head too much. 

The compound's pantry and spice cabinet? Pristine almost always, by the way. 

“Or you can recognize this isn’t life or death and we say, ‘Hm, that sucks. Good thing no one's dead or dying. Call it a plus,’ and move on with our day,” I argue back. 

He rolls his eyes as he winds a roll of gauze and looks at me from the side. “You. Were. Shot,” he says again in that slow, demeaning tone. 

“Obviously, I know,” I growl. “I. Felt. It.” 

He narrows his eyes at my unphased demeanor and the way I mock his tone. 

“What’s so wrong with a person worrying about you, huh?” he questions with an investigative look, stepping towards me where I’m sitting on the bed that’s less than a foot off the ground, forgoing the kit. 

“That’s not the problem,” I scoff, digging in my bag to avoid eye contact. 

“Then what’s the problem?” I can feel him standing over me, arms crossed in his intimidation tactic. Can’t work if I’m not looking, right? 

“Problem is you overreact.”

“I’m not overreacting. You were shot.” 

“As you’ve said only a hundred times in the last hour. Care to make it 101?”

When I don’t hear a witty response, I look up, seeing him staring down at me with what I can’t decide is distaste, pure fiery annoyance, or pity. Only one of those I’m slightly ok with. 

“Silent treatment? Kay, cool.” I shrug and grab my sweatshirt, throwing it over my head. “I’m going to go make a sandwich and wait for Steve to call back. Hopefully, we’re not here much longer.” 

I can hear the short scoff he lets out of his nose as I pass him and move back to the kitchen space while he gets changed himself. 

Twenty minutes later, showered and new like me, Bucky comes in and sits across from me in the mismatched chair paired with a table that looked to be built by a two-year-old. 

“Careful, splinter galore over there,” I motion to the side of the table where I purposefully moved away from. “Hungry?” I ask, nodding to the minimal ingredients as I take a bite of the sandwich. 

“No.” His arms are still crossed, and he’s still glaring at me from over the counter. 

“‘Kay,” I shrug and stay on my phone as I eat and scroll through social media, waiting for Steve’s notification. 

Did you know Bucky can stare at you for hours without moving and make you uncomfortable in your seat just by his presence? Well, he does. And he’s doing it right now. 

“Twenty-seven minutes, Barnes. That’s how long you’ve been glaring at me without breaking,” I say, never breaking my concentration from scrolling on my phone through the pictures that Nat sent a while ago in the group chat. “Going for a new record?”

“Can you not make everything a joke for one second of your life?” he grits after a minute, and when I look up, I see he’s genuinely upset. 

I blink a few times and scrunch my face at the change up, and lock my phone, leaving it on the table as I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. 

“What’s up with you-”

“What’s up is you don’t seem to have any regard for your life,” he cuts me off, looking away as he takes a breath and runs his hand through his hair. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and it freaks me the hell out that you don’t seem to take it seriously.” 

“We all have different ways of responding-” I start again, my eyes narrowed as he calls me out on it. 

“I’m not negating that,” he says, holding a hand up, still not looking at me. “My concern is one day it’ll be far more serious, and you won’t speak up or you’ll downplay the fuck out of it to not be a bother to others.” 

What the hell- How did he know…?

“That’s not-” 

“Don’t you dare even finish that fucking lie,” he holds a finger up to me with a warning look that I’m not stupid enough to take lightly so I shut my mouth, but continue to glare. “Y/N, you were shot today. Shot. And yes, I know it was a graze and comparable to a mosquito bite, given the injuries we’ve sustained throughout our careers, but it’s serious nonetheless. You getting hurt is serious.”

I don’t know where this is coming from, but I’m curious where he’s going with this. Curious and slightly scared he’s seeing through me like a damn cellophane wrap. 

“Be honest with me,” he crosses his arms again when I don’t give him a quip back, and he knows he has the floor. “Do you see yourself as a burden or inconvenience when you get hurt on missions?” 

Ok. Getting straight into the hardhitters and not even easing into the topic. 

My only answer is more narrowing of my eyes as I begin to build a wall, I think he’s already prepared for. 

“Eh, be honest,” he says, raising one eyebrow in challenge. 

I hesitate. I don’t want to give him the reward of being right at all, let alone so soon. “Majority of the time that we’re on missions, there are more important things,” I answer vaguely, but the real answer in that response is, “I don’t see myself as a priority as much as others or other aspects towards the missions.” 

He seems to see right through it, and his face relaxes somewhat. Sympathy instead of frustration comes through his eyes. 

“You are important,” he says simply, never breaking eye contact with me. “How could you not be?”

My scowl eases from my face, and I blink in surprised confusion. 

“I-I know that,” I say, having to clear my throat because I didn’t even believe that. “I know that.” I try again, and this time it sounds like words you’ve said a million times, and now they feel wrong.

His face fell in pity, and that’s when I drew the line. I clear my throat again, standing quickly and straightening my clothes. “I’m going to lie down for a bit. Let me know if Steve calls.” I exit the room as fast as I can before he can argue for me to stay and talk.

____

I must have dozed off pretty soon after getting the bed made up and ready, in case we ended up staying the night because the mission wasn’t done. 

But when I woke to the bed dipping and the single lamp on Bucky’s side turning off, I came to the conclusion we were stuck here for the night. 

I’m as close to the edge on my side of the queen mattress when he pulls the covers over himself, and I feel the change as the sheets come up to cover me more, too.

“Not done?” I ask, meaning the mission. 

“Not done.”

“How long?” 

“Second file still needs to be obtained. We’ll come up with a plan tomorrow. Don’t worry about it right now.” 

I turn, shifting to sit up, but his hand wraps around my waist gently and pulls me close to his body heat. “Bu-”

“I said don’t worry about it,” he repeats, taking in a deep breath as he rests his head on top of mine and wraps me into him as the little spoon to his big spoon. 

I don’t even question it because this wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to share body heat to keep warm. We’re lucky the flat was supplied with clean sheets and a giant comforter, but the single other blanket didn’t do much to shield us from the cold European fall nights. 

But considering how much he seemed to see through me, I felt vulnerable tonight. And his touch… Felt more protective than usual. 

“My feet are cold,” I say softly and almost childlike when I recognize both he and I are bundled in all the warm clothes we have packed, but the socks on my feet aren’t enough to help still. 

“They always are,” he mumbles into my hair before moving his leg to capture mine and tangle our limbs under the covers, perfectly positioned to warm my frigid toes. Once he’s happy with the positioning, he lets out a deep breath and says. “There. Now, go to sleep, Y/N. Our problems will still be a thing in the morning.” 

“Which problem are you hinting at?” 

“All of them.” 

“Well, yes, I know, but which one are you actually talking about, because there’s a big elephant in the room making me anxious because knowing you, you’ll start something about me not-” A hand covers my mouth while his other wraps tighter around my stomach, pressing my back to his chest, careful, however, to not irritate my wound. 

“However many tomorrows we have, Y/N, I will continue to solve the problem that is you not seeing yourself as a priority or important piece to this world. And if one morning you finally wake up and realize just how true that is,” his mouth is next to my ear, my hair being the only things keeping his lips from grazing it. “Then we can move on to solving all the other world’s problems, ok?”

I’m shocked yet not. Taken aback by the sheer genuineness, yet not. He’s being honest. Bucky doesn’t say or promise things lightly when it comes to his passion and affection for those he cares about. 

And sure, we poke and claw at each others nerves, but I know and he knows, we’d take a bullet for the other if the situation called for it. No hesitation. 

And to hear him say it, in such non-surface level way, left no room for uncertainty that he meant it.

“Why do you care so much?” I say so softly, “About me,” almost followed but stayed stuck in my throat like my innerchild was asking the question she so desperately needed the answer to. 

Bucky’s hand had moved to rest across my shoulder practically strapping me to him with both arms now and he relaxed fully. 

“Because I always have and I don’t plan to stop... Not when it comes to you. Goodnight, Y/N…” 

That was all my soul needed to hear before I was pulled into the most peaceful and comforting night of sleep I’ve had in a very, very long time…

If you've asked to join any of my tags and I haven't yet, please send me an ask! I lose track sometimes. :)

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[brenwritesss]

𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

⋆˚࿔Paige Bueckers x reader ❀˖°

Summary: Paige promised to come to your show, but you didn't believe her. You should have known better.

a/n: this chapter has not been edited, I just wanted to put something out so I apologize for any errors.

warnings: language and implied sex

You lived for nights like these. Where you could feel the music already flowing through your veins before you even hit the stage. Where you could hear the crowd screaming your name and chanting for you. Where the lights in the arena dimmed and the stage grew bright, signaling you were about to take to the stage. Before every show, you always went into your dressing room to sit in front of your mirror. As a child, you dreamt of just a sliver of moments like these. If only that little girl could see you now. See the artist you’ve become. How people would travel across the country just to see you perform.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, taking some time to adjust a few strands of hair and fix your bra strap. You hummed the notes of the first song on your set list to yourself as people scrambled behind you to get everything in place before your opener finished their set. Tonight, you were playing in Hartford, Connecticut with it being your tenth stop on your world tour. You had been dreading this show for the past couple months. And it was all because of one person. Paige Bueckers. 

Yes, you did not listen to yourself and continued to text Paige. Almost every fucking day. To say you both were heading into a situationship was an understatement. Over these past couple of months, Paige had been proving herself to be more than a stereotypical college athlete and to be honest, you were here for it. She was actually very sweet to you and always woke you up with compliments. Your text messages had progressed to phone calls to FaceTimes and it felt so natural. You haven’t felt that comfortable with someone like that for a long time and it was refreshing. The only thing you hadn’t done was meet in person. It was talked about; quite a lot actually but you both just had such busy schedules that there was never any time. That was until tonight.

When you and Paige first started talking, you both had brought up the likelihood of her going to your show in Hartford. And you had always thought that she was bluffing about taking the time to come see you perform. Your phone buzzed beside you.

Paige

Can’t wait to see you tonight

You send her a quick winking emoji before getting rushed to your stage entrance. That is when it hit you that Paige was indeed not bluffing and had made plans to come see you tonight. Not only did this mean that Paige would be seeing you perform in front of thousands of people; but it also meant that there was a huge possibility that you would be meeting her for the first time outside of the late-night phone calls and text messages.

It wasn’t just meeting Paige that you were nervous about. It was about what would happen before and after you met. Would she enjoy your show? Would she think that you weren’t as good live? And once you met, would you instantly go into a hug? Or would it be an awkward handshake? Would the conversation flow as easily as it did over the phone? Only one way to find out.

You counted the beats until it was time for you to walk out on stage. Within your first few steps, the crowd grew wild and all you could hear was the screams and the clapping. You could see phones held up in the air throughout the entire arena and the lights emitting from them. You held your microphone up to your mouth, starting your first song.

Within seconds, you were back in your element. The crowd sang along with you and you kept up with the beats going through your ears. Suddenly, you got more nervous than earlier which threw you off considering you had done this so many times before. The performing. Just knowing that Paige was actually here in the arena made goosebumps form on your skin and made you suddenly self-conscious. Instead of flowing with the music like you normally did, you were now conscious and aware of every movement and step you took on stage. 

Once you had been performing for a while and you could feel the support from your fans in the crowd, you fell back into your natural element and carried on the performance like normal, forgetting that Paige was even here. Your favorite part of the show happened towards the middle during one of your slower songs. The crowd would turn on their flashlights on their phone, mimicking a night sky in the arena. It made you feel alive.

The show was over in what felt like minutes, saying your farewells to the crowd as you walk off the stage. You spent the time after thanking your crew, band, and dancers for another amazing performance on your tour. After you had finally changed out of your performance outfit and put on a sweatsuit, you picked up your phone and saw that you had a message.

Paige

Holy Shit

When can I see you

You text back immediately. “Just finished up backstage. Meet me at the back entrance?”

I gotchu

Don’t make plans for the rest of the night. You’re mine tn

Your heart was pounding. In a few minutes you would be seeing the girl who had taken over your head face to face. You hoped desperately that the conversation would flow as easily in person as it did online. You headed in the direction of the back entrance, rubbing your hands on your hoodie to get rid of the nervous sweat. 

You open the door, instantly getting hit with the cool air through your hoodie. At first you didn’t see her as you looked around, sliding your phone out of your pocket to text her. “Hey,” a voice spoke out as the familiar, tall blonde walked around the corner. She had her hands shoved into her hoodie, hair straight down past her shoulders. You could see her breaths in the cool air and you almost felt as if you were starstruck. She was hotter in person if that was even possible.

“Hey,” you respond, walking toward her slowly as if you forgot how to walk. “I um thought you wouldn-”

Paige smiled and shook her head. “Shut up,” she said, cutting you off as she grabbed your face and pulled you towards her, smashing her lips onto yours. You gasped at the unexpected move, reaching your hands up to grab her wrists as you kissed her back. The kiss was more than anything you could have pictured between the two of you and it made you want more.

She pulled away and you instantly missed the feeling of her lips on yours. You took a sharp breath. “Holy shit.”

Paige laughed, “never gotten kissed like that before or what?”

You playfully punch her shoulder, earning a low laugh from her. You shake your head, “try it again and see for yourself.”

You saw a mischievous spark in her eyes that lit a fire in you. How is it that you have only been standing in front of her for maybe three minutes and she could almost consume your soul just by looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes. Paige let her hands travel from the base of your jawline to the curve of your waist and you instantly leaned into her touch. Her fingers were warm, contrasting to the cold air that gave you goosebumps. She tilted her head to the side. “I think you should come with me.”

“And where are we going?” you ask her, tilting your head to match her movements.

Paige rubbed small circles into your waist, the only chill you could feel coming from her silver rings that hugged her fingers. “Can’t just show you all my tricks right out the gate, princess.” The way she had said that almost into your ear made you forget how to breathe. The way she smiled after, biting her lip and looking down into your eyes answered all the questions you had been asking yourself before. Yes, the conversation would definitely be flowing easy in person. And that wouldn’t be the only thing flowing easily. 

Paige tugged at your hand, moving your body with hers as she began walking towards her car. Your fingers fit perfectly between hers and you kept close, keeping that warmth between the two of you. You let out a small laugh, “not gonna kiss me again? Was it that bad?”

Paige shook her head, laughing, “nah,” she paused and leaned toward your ear. “Don’t want anyone seeing what I’m ‘bout to do to you.”

You swallowed. Hard. The way her words easily left her mouth and her perfect voice. It all just made you want to rip her clothes off. It seemed like Paige could tell because her grip on your hand grew tighter. “And what are you gonna do?” you ask her, almost challenging her. 

And that challenge didn’t go unnoticed because even under the street lights, her eyes darkened and she wore a smirk across her lips. “You’re a dangerous one, you know.”

“Still didn’t answer my question.”

Paige opened the passenger door to her car, waiting for you to get in. “You’ll figure it out, don’t worry princess.”

You got into the car and she shut the door, walking over to her side. After getting in, you smiled at her, “you’re way cuter in person, you know that?”

A look of mock offense crossed her face. “Was I not over the phone?”

You laugh, “no you were. I just didn’t think you’d be this…” You trailed off, trying to find the word.

“This…” she repeated after you.

“Hot,” you reply.

“Again,” she says. “Was I not over the phone?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I fucking mean, baby.”

Paige raised her eyebrows at you. “Baby?”

“What, I call you that over the phone all the time. Now you have a problem with it?”

“It’s hot when you get defensive,” she retorts, looking at you. She leans in closer to you. “And to be fair, out of some other things you’ve called me, that’s what you chose?”

You lean in closer to match her movements. “And what would you prefer?”

“I mean…” she said with her cocky tone. “I seem to remember this one night where you called me da-”

“OKAY,” you shout, cutting her off. “We can end this conversation right now.”

Paige bust out laughing, “no no, you had no problem calling me that over the phone. Scared to do it in person?”

“You’re fucking gross,” you respond, feeling lowkey embarrassed that she called you out like that.

“How am I gross when you were the one that said it in the first place?” 

“Because,” you pause. “I’m not the one bringing it up now.”

“Right,” Paige smiles, bringing her hand up to the steering wheel. “We can get you bringin’ it up real quick if you want.”

Clocked. Cooked. And everything in between. “So, was your plan to come to my show and then fuck me after? No date, nothing?”

Paige rolls her eyes, turning the car on and giving you a look like she could either kiss you or strangle you in that moment. “So, I have been talking to you for months and have told you countless times that I was gonna take you out and you think I wanna fuck you right now?”

“Well do you?”

“Hell yeah but I’m taking you on a date first. Who do you think I am?”

You and Paige spent the next twenty minutes talking throughout the drive, her hand not leaving your thigh once. The conversation got deep quickly like they always did between the two of you. That was something you had never gotten from your previous relationship and it was refreshing. It was assuring knowing that your relationship with her wasn’t just built on those initial physical attractions towards each other and that it was becoming way more than that.

Paige pulled into an arcade parking lot and you couldn’t have been more excited. “Is this place even open?”

Paige shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I rented it out.”

Your eyes widen. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me, princess.”

And she wasn’t lying because you spent the next few hours competing against her in games. And you definitely lost to her in the basketball games.

Your head against her purple pillows, breaths hitched, fingers gripping her sheets. Paige’s fingers slowly slid up your thighs, blowing cool air on you. You gasped just at the contact of air on you and made eye contact with her as she massaged your thighs. 

(You might be wondering how you wound up in this position…)

“You’re a world-touring superstar, let me treat you like one,” she whispered against your cunt and your back arched. “I’ll show you how good of a fan I can be.”

[revelboo]

I just want to say I absolutely love your writing, especially the Starscream pet ones. They're so cute and comforting! Please, keep up the amazing work!!

Thank you! At some point, I’ll gather up all the disjointed bits into a more coherent fic. A lot of the Soundwave x Reader and the non-Lost Light Megatron x Reader goes with the Starscream snippets. They’re just not necessarily in the right order since I’m using Tumblr to quickly jot down scenarios as they occur to me.

Everything is Alright Pt 12

Starscream x Reader- stars

• Outside. Fresh air smelling faintly of pine and green things. And, most importantly, outside. Keeping a palm pressed against the warm metal flesh of Starscream’s neck, you tip your head back fighting a grin. The moon’s just a sharp sickle, but there are so many stars overhead. Little specks of beauty amid the darkness. After staring at the four gray walls of Starscream’s quarters for who knew how many weeks, the stars are even better. Before, you’d never bothered to really look. Now you can’t tear your eyes away.

• “Stop squirming. You’re going to fall,” Starscream snaps as you just breathe and enjoy it. Because this field trip will end with you right back in Starscream’s quarters as something you’re not sure of. A friend, a pet, a captive? All three? Who knew. But right now? You’re free. Sorta.

• “Likelihood of falling: sixty-two percent,” Soundwave adds from where he’s trailing behind Starscream, having invited himself along from what you can tell. When you adjust your grip so you can lean back and glower at the other mech, he just stares impassively right back. “Seventy-four percent.”

• Resisting the urge to stick your tongue out, you know his worry isn’t exactly misplaced. When you’d pled to not be carried cupped in Starscream’s palms, you’d underestimated how hard it would be to keep your balance on a moving surface. Every time he stops you almost pitch face first off his shoulder. While you’re almost certain he’ll catch you before you hit the ground, you’d rather not find out the hard way.

• Primus, but you can’t be still? Denta grinding, Starscream slows to a stop, hand lifting in case you almost slide off. Again. The overlook is far enough out they won’t be spotted by humans or Autobots, a secluded place he’d discovered completely by accident and a place he visits while on patrol. Where he can just be without the war looming or being on guard. Normally. Venting as Soundwave looks around, he toys idly with the idea of trying to shove the other mech off the cliff.

• Your little hand is warm and soft on the protoarmor of his neck distracting him as you slowly stand up on his shoulder. He watches you, your face tipped up toward the night sky, skin limned in ruddy light from his optics. “Where I lived in town, there were streetlights,” you say, soft voice drifting over him. “I couldn’t really see the stars.”

• There’s a wistfulness in your words, that stings. Makes him wonder if under all those smiles you give so freely, you resent him for keeping you. If the tables were turned, he’d idle away his time in plans of escape and revenge. “Yes, well,” he murmurs, aware of Soundwave nearby listening. Looking for weakness he can exploit, no doubt. “Good behavior should be rewarded.”

• Ah, there it is. Those gruff words make your smile falter. He hasn’t brought you here because it was a nice thing to do, but because he’s reinforcing good behavior. It shouldn’t still hurt, but it does. Because maybe you were thinking of him as a friend. That just maybe he thought a bit more of you than just a pet. Or a bargaining chip. And there goes your heart, racing even as it cracks just a bit. How were you so stupid? Of course you’re not friends. How could you be?

• Venting softly, Starscream almost misses the soft sound of your breathing change. You’re still staring at the stars, but you’re leaking now, moisture streaming silently from your eyes. Lost, he glances at Soundwave, because this is new. And he doesn’t like it at all.

Previous Next

[ficandkaboodle]

Analyses of Most Ghost Characters be like…

Terzo was a tragic and extremely deep figure who, based off observations provided by his ghouls and Bishop Necropolitis, was a brilliant mind whose ideas were bastardized and squandered, which resulted in a disappointed and bitter husk of a man who still made an effort to display kindness. However, we will likely never truly know the full story of who he was because he lied so damn often.

Most of how we perceive Secondo is arguably the result of Sister badmouthing him as well as ghouls being brutally candid about how he acted in interviews. However, there’s reason to believe Secondo might’ve been just as multifaceted as Terzo, in that he wasn’t being his complete self to the audience. There’s evidence that could suggest Secondo did not enjoy being Papa in its entirety so much as the perks, which were ironically also hindered by him being Papa at the end of the day. It’s not hard to interpret him as someone who might not have enjoyed being a part of the bloodline at the end of the day because of what it meant he had to sacrifice.

Copia is a manchild, likely as a result of how he grew up: Orphaned, likely a social outcast, very likely undiagnosed. As a result, he might’ve become convinced that the only way to rise above it was to become someone worthy of adoration: Papa. But even after he ascended, his troubles didn’t stop: He had to learn his parentage, didn’t address the fact that his brothers were now dead, and spent the last few months he had with the woman he now knew was his mother dissociating because he developed a fear of death. This fear, mind you, that easily ties back into the theorized likelihood that he placed his self-worth into his success. And this is before getting into his willingness to be a puppet —

Papa Nihil’s complexities come in the form of his tendencies to escape reality and the consequences these brought. He was very likely an absent father, which would have had effects on his sons (say, attention-seeking tendencies; a distrust in authority; abandonment issues). In fact, the only things he seems to seek from his youth is his extremely short-lived music career and his unstable relationship with a woman who ultimately kept quiet about their son(s) they conceived together and ultimately played his lust and delusions against him to play nepotism. And by leaning into this, he got his own children killed. He only “became a father” after he died, and it’s sad that he actually seems his most lucid then. What’s all the more mind-boggling and makes you wonder about his tenure is his ability to be in the moment and try and convince Cardi to learn to do the same. It makes you curious: Was Nihil actually a good Papa when he wasn’t distracted?

Sister Imperator is willfully emotionally constipated and will justify it as being “for the good of the church”. She has definitely been affected by her decisions and what she’s done, from her relationship with Nihil to her giving up her babies and watching them at a distance, only interacting from a work standpoint. She lies, keeps secrets, has people killed off, all to tie her spawn into the position as Papa, which is curious considering her position means she’s already above the station of Papa. She does care about Cardi, but she doesn’t care for him the way he needs to be and, as a result, arguably only exacerbates his anxious tendencies. She’s an extremely interesting character but it’s so easy to water her down to just being manipulative and evil.

………………

Analyses of Primo —

Primo is fucking crazy man I don’t — Like, he might be a serial killer; he would punch a panda for profit; we aren’t even entirely certain he’s human like I would legit headcanon that Primo is a changeling and the fandom would run with it because what choice do we have, he honestly actually could be!!!

[ingravinoveritas]

A couple of quick thoughts about today's events (or "EVERY 2.0," as I'm seeing some folks call it):

Everyone is passionate about and excited for Good Omens 3. There have been little to no details over the last few months, even during the course of filming earlier this year. This production has been a precarious one, from nearly being cancelled to being brought back as a 90-minute movie instead of the previously planned full season. Emotions have been running high almost nonstop, to where the atmosphere is nearly perfect for someone--be it marketing, be it PR--to tap in to the vibe for their own purposes.

It has been almost exactly two years to the day since Every, the now infamous "leak" of Aziraphale and Crowley's kiss at the end of season 2. Given that, it also feels like far, far too much of a coincidence that another, similar "leak" would occur so close to that incident. In all likelihood, today's events were not an accident, but rather a planned test to take the "temperature" of the fandom, among other things.

Further supporting this theory is the fact that the images of the concept art were posted on the art website one week ago, yet somehow the fandom was suddenly made aware of them today, in such close proximity to the anniversary of "Every." The images are also still posted on the website, on the artist's portfolio, meaning that had this been an unintentional oversight, it seems likely that the photos would have already been taken down, instead of left up for an entire week.

There has also been a great deal of discussion about consequences for the artist, yet it seems shortsighted if not unfair to blame fans for the artist's job being put in potential jeopardy. This person chose to post the concept artwork publicly, where anyone could find it. Even now, hours after all of this has happened, the concept art is still not password protected, and so the explanation of "It was supposed to be password protected" does not seem to hold much water. Ultimately, however, it was this artist's responsibility to ensure their work was secured, and it is also their responsibility if they did not.

Much has also been made about the possibility of season 3 being cancelled as a result of this incident, and I would just urge folks to think logically about this instead of blindly believing everything that you read. It is especially imperative in moments like these--where marketing and money are the chief motivating factors and the people behind these efforts have no qualms about emotionally manipulating a fandom--to think for yourselves and come to your own conclusions. Other fans may rush in to tell you to do this or do that, or don't do this, don't do that...but "groupthink" and hivemind mentalities are more often harmful than helpful, both to you as an individual and to the fandom at large.

Finally, to say that today's incident could cause GO 3 to be cancelled sounds and feels like little more than scare tactics. The concept art we saw today does not necessarily definitively give away plot points of the season (unlike "Every," which absolutely did). Given that filming is already completed and the amount of money that Amazon would stand to lose by pulling the show, it feels increasingly like this line was put forward to provoke an emotional response in fans.

Yet as the old saying goes, any press is good press...and the only thing that will get people talking more than a "leak" is that leak being an "accident" to cause panic and get folks to take everything down. Which will then make those who did see it chatter endlessly about what happened while making those who didn't see it wonder about it even more.

So those are all of my thoughts on what happened. The drama around all of this is truly exhausting, but hopefully we can find a way to discuss all of this calmly and collectively move forward as we await the release of the third season.

[evilminji]

You know my Crechelings Are Possessed post?

What if it was just the one? A SI-OC or OC?

Dying and going THROUGH the Force? I will attest, is GONNA have side effects. You're gonna end up... weird. Not Normal for a Force Sensitive. Kinda like Anikin tbh. A bit TOO in tune. A bit TOO aware. Connected.

As though your brain was cracked open 5+ dimensionally, to the Whole Of Creation that IS the Force and it kinda fucked you up a bit. Cause as A Luminous Force Being? You were fine! Energy and light! But as MATTER? Well...

Matter breaks.

Can withstand only so much.

We are LIMITED by our matter, crude and flawed as it is. Beloved as it may be.

Cause make no mistake! You aren't BROKEN. But you are CHANGED. There were a series of clear, monumentous, and "life" altering events back to back here! Death, a traumatizing thing no matter HOW peaceful it may have been. And in all likelihood? It was NOT a peaceful end. It probably? Hurt. Was frightening. Abrupt. There is grief and hurt there. Fear.

Then the trauma of being separated from everyone we have ever known. Without closure. For them OR us. Our empathy would remind us of their suffering. That they do NOT know we are okay. That we have no way to TELL them we are. This too, is trauma. But? Worse?

Is the Force.

We? Are no Jedi. Not yet. We are confused. Lost and do not understand. It is FOREIGN to us. An outside will that we cannot escape. Where are our gods? The death we expected? The afterlife we assumed we would meet? It's INSIDE US. It IS US. We are IT. We don't know where we are and everything feels?

E N D L E S S .

Can force ghosts even cry? Weep, terrified and overwhelmed? Afraid? Simply BRINGING us to them would not impart understanding. And imparting understanding? Well... we know it to be not OF us? To be inflicted. An invasion. The Force is not cruel. But! Importantly! It is not and has never BEEN? Mortal.

Blue and Orange morality is at play. How do you explain to a formless, infinite, all knowing, all powerful God Force? The concept of "boundaries"? Limits? There is GOOD to be done. It's helping you! Pushing love and comfort! Surely that should work? Why is that not working? It is... confused. Not MADE for such contemplations.

This too, is Trauma. Being held in the hands of a God. Benevolent does not mean SAFE. Does not mean you will not be unharmed. Just... that they do not MEAN to harm you.

Or have very Good Reasons for why they "Must".

The Force Ghosts help. They are patient in the way only old Master's could be. Kind. They understand. Have taught. And so? Though they are quite confused, they understand you struggle to release your fear. Explaining things helps. Talking helps. And you find peace.

Not the afterlife you EXPECTED, but not terrible.

Which... of course, is when once again things change.

Birth, Life, these TOO, are Trauma. You were FREE. No more pain. No aches. No hunger, no thirst, no exhaustion. Connection deeper then this broken and flawed matter could ever hope to achieve. The world has gone SILENT. Muffled. Like solitary confinement for the SOUL.

Only in meditation, are you FREE.

Your parents can't handle you. You grieve for them. For the child they should have had. Look around the nursery, so filled with excitement and love, and feel nothing but the urge to weep. You are a stillborn, brought to life. A child stolen. They deserved better then this. Even as you can not be anything but what you ARE? What of THEIR sorrow? Their confusion and futures now impossible?

You love them. They are not yours. Will never tryely be your parents, for all they brought you into this world. But oh, Oh, you love these poor grieving souls. Wish it had not been you. That they could have had the child they were so excited to love. You... you are sorry. So, so sorry.

They take you to the Temple. You guild them to a child in need, first. Hope they will be happy.

You do not look back.

They put you in a Creche with others just as "Unusually Strong" in the Force. Is that Grogu? Hi Grogu. Who are the rest of you? The room is quite. Everyone talking loudly in the Force, instead. It would be deafening for the more delicate younglings. They don't have the shields for it yet. The children here SHOUT without meaning too, like standing at a rock concert.

Visions are a constant thing. Unusual Force gifts and manifestations. Illirrrska can see auras. Doesn't know what they MEAN, mind you, and xe sees them on EVERYTHING that lives, but still! Xey are well on xeir way to figuring it out. (Xey have a holo document cataloging the colors, you see.)

You fit right in! With your Tiny Herald Of Death To Come nature. Your Creche mates believe you. The adults? Have grown numb. Used to filtering. Tiny younglings with Too Much Force flowing through them? Are horrors. Viscerally unsettling. Unnatural.

Even to the Jedi.

But! They REFUSE to treat children with such caution and distain. Hold them at an arms length out of FEAR. So they mentally filter. "That's nice dear, horrifying concepts and brain melting secrets, mmmhmmm. Eat your pudding. Who wants to play float ball~‽ Yaaaaaay!"

No one will listen. Future in motion. But really, of course it is. You are no fool.

However... tell me, Master Jedi. Does it matter? If we die one step to the right as apposed to the left? Because you would not LISTEN when the Force spoke? The future only changes when you ACT. Not when you REFUSE too. Out of FEAR. Out of IGNORANCE. Out of ATTACHMENT.

And make no mistake, you ARE attached. Clinging so hard to your beliefs that you could not POSSIBLY be wrong. Could not POSSIBLY be fallible, be fooled by the Dark Side and lead astray, that you have turned your back on the very Tennants of the Code itself.

What is more important? Tradition or the Force? The innocent or the way things were? Tell me, what is the will of the Force... and what is Fear? Convenience? The little moral compromises that damn? Who do you serve, Master Jedi? And ARE you serving them?

Perhaps you should meditate.

Just???

This Tiny Cryptid Crecheling? That speaks like a wizened old Master? Feels like a tiny star in the Force? Not a cute lil ball of light. A FUCKING STAR. Giant ball of gas in space, a burning ball of light, THAT kind of star! But... small? Person shaped. It's like meditating next to a Force Nexus.

They just? Hand you things. Or sabotage random ships. Literally just FUCKING SHOT a knight once, for no clear reason! All they would say is "it's not like you'll actually listen. This is the only way." What? Of COURSE WE'LL LISTEN! (No. They won't. Just ask Sifo. Ask Obi-Wan. The Sith, fear, and hubris have eroded the Jedi from within.)

The full blown confidence of an adult? Combined with the creepy "oh god. They're in THE VENTS!!!" Nature of highly force sensitive Crechelings?

Magnificent~☆

They can see into your SOUL. Are holding a toddler that squirms around, wiggles up to whisper in their ear, gets a nod, only for YOU to be somberly informed that your second in command (a life long friend) has betrayed you. Avoid wearing red. You will die on a Friday. By the way, they can't reach the counter... could you hand them those snacks?

One of the other one speaks to trees.

The trees SPEAK BACK.

Prophecy. Fuckin Terrifying Prophecy EVERYWHERE.

Did YOU want to know that your grandson will grow up to kill his brother? No? Too bad! Not even married yet? ALSO TOO BAD! Have FUN with that knowledge! How about learning that there is horrific suffering planets away? No. No there ISN'T anything you can do about it. Just... here! Have some Deeply Cursed Knowledge. From a toddler. Now! They're gonna go eat grass~☆

The appear and disappear at random. Climb the walls. Fuckin FLOAT. The Force itself is their imaginary friend! They literally consult it over PUDDING CHOICES. Sometimes? They talk in perfect synchronization, like a hive mind. Stare without blinking. One moment they are perfectly normal children... the next? Like PUPPETS.

Tiny avatars. Through which SOMETHING GREATER speaks. They KNOW, not think, KNOW what they need to do. You can not convince them. Trying just makes you an obstacle to be overcome.

They are four.

Toddlers and children. Younglings. Initiates!

I just? Want there to be? A portion of Deeply Cursed/Possessed Crechelings? That are just LIKE that. Loved regardless. Nothing wrong with them. They're just too strong for their lil bitty baby brains. Once they learn to shield better? It'll balance out. Anikin would have gone there, had he been found young.

It'd be hilarious? If what saves the galaxy? Is someone finally REMEMBERING that? And thinking to themselves?

"Hey, you know what might be good for that Skywalker kid? Being exposed to more Force Sensitives that GET him. We should put him on Cursed Crechelings duty for a bit." And??

Anikin? Is in LOVE? They are all so SMOL an NORMAL? Finally! Jedi who aren't EMOTIONALLY DISTANT! Shielded? What do mean "Shielded"? No I'm not shouting all the time! This is my normal speaking voice! *Skywalker confusion as he cuddles babies*

Cause like? He too? Spoke in horrifying prophecy? Was vaguely Anti-christ-y? Did the (o.o) see into your sooooooul stare? So WHAT? That's just how babies ARE!

.....what do you MEAN "no"?

Every day, throwing open Obi-Wan's poor, slowly being destroyed, front door like "Master! Did you know I am AN OUTLIER!? And REALLY LOUD!? Other people aren't emotionally crippled psychopaths, they're just really REALLY quite compared to me!!" "Ah. Yes, Anikin, please. Maybe say that LOUDER. I don't think the ENTIRE temple quite heard you... -_- "

Just?? Anikin Skywalker! And his Hoard of Creepy Possessed Crechelings that are TOTALLY NORMAL, Guys! All kids are like this! He's a GREAT role model and baby sitting! Yeah, it's the Clone wars, and no, he has NO idea how the entire Creche got onto the ship... but hey! Enrichment! That's good for them, right?

(^-^) (o.o) (|o.o|) (o,o) (o-o) (|o,o|)

*clones look from their general, to the tiny unblinking magic jedi babies, back to their general* s-sure?

@legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @leftnotright @starwarsblr

[mc-lukanette]

The bell of the bakery rang, followed by the sound of a pair of boots against the floor. Sabine looked up, brightening at the familiar faces.

"Tom! Look who's here!" she exclaimed, beckoning her husband closer with a wave of her hand.

Tom stopped putting a tray in the oven to look up, beamed, then remembered his task and hurried to finish so he could face their customer properly. Throwing off his oven mitts, he greeted happily, "Anarka! And you even brought little Luka!"

"Everything looks little to you, sailor," Anarka commented with a snort, though he wasn't wrong. She adjusted her one-armed grip on her baby boy, ensuring he was secure against her.

That, in all likelihood, wasn't an actual concern. Luka, despite his young age, had his tiny hands grasping tight to his mother's clothes, as if she would let go of him at any moment. Anyone could imagine him hanging on for dear life even without an arm supporting him.

"Did you come by for a teething rusk?" Sabine wondered. It'd been a special offer for any parent who needed them for their baby at no charge; she and Tom knew from experience how expensive babies could be regardless of such concerns, so they helped others where they could.

"No, but I wouldn't say 'no' to having a few." She raised two fingers. "But Luka's not the only one who needs them."

"Of course." Sabine got a bag ready. "Where is your other one? Sweet baby Juleka?"

Juleka was a quiet one, even more so than Luka, which was a strange thought when considering what their mother was like. It was to the point where you wouldn't know Juleka was there unless you saw her, but it was remained odd seeing a brother without his twin sister.

Anarka tossed her head back with a groan. "With a friend of mine. It's a handful having them together sometimes."

Tom chuckled. "I know just what you mean. Our Marinette is a handful all by herself!"

"Ahh—" She looked off to the side, then to Luka in consideration. Taking a step to be right against the counter, she put a hand to Luka's ear and moved his head so his other ear was against her clothes, keeping him from hearing much as she leaned close to them. "It's actually because of this one."

Tom and Sabine exchanged a look of concern. Was such a cute baby already getting a bad boy streak?

"Oh, they're not fighting," Anarka clarified, standing straight and uncovering Luka's ear, "but he has habits. Never seen a baby feeling suffocated by attention."

She gestured at the chubby hands that still hadn't let go of her. Tom put a hand to his chin, stroking his mustache with his index finger as he tried to piece together what she meant.

She pointed a finger at her son, stressing, "He. Hugs. Everyone."

Luka stared at her fingertip from under his thick, fluffy black hair, following the conversation about as well as the other two.

"That's... sweet?" Sabine commented, not seeing what the problem was.

Anarka shook her head. "Poor Juleka just needs to cry sometimes - babies do that, you know - but Luka squeezes anyone who looks just a little upset. I'm sure she loves him, but he doesn't know when to leave people alone. I had to keep them in separate cribs or he'd hold her all night, but then he gets fussy without something to hold."

That made somewhat more sense and made Sabine a little curious. She made eye contact with Tom expectantly, trying to convey her thoughts without words.

"Hm," he hummed, nodding along to the telepathic conversation, "I want to see it too, dear, but I can't cry on command."

"Think about our wedding day," she countered.

Instantly, Tom let out a choking noise. Doing an amazing performance as the "baby" of everyone in the room, including the actual baby, he grew misty-eyed and muttered, "You looked so beautiful..."

"ah," Luka uttered, the first sound that he'd made since getting there. He let go of Anarka's clothes, only leaving behind wrinkles to indicate that he'd been there, and reached both hands out towards Tom. He was so quick about it that he nearly fell forwards, Tom hurrying to take him in his hands before anything happened.

"See that?" Anarka chuckled, amused. Her tone was mischievous, as of course she wouldn't have let her boy actually fall.

Tom sighed in relief, not yet recovered from the shock. He held Luka carefully and glanced over to speak to him, "man-to-man," only to get a sudden smack to his face. "Ow!"

Sabine cooed, "I think he was trying to wipe your tears away."

"He's got a strong arm for his age!" Tom half-cheered, half-protested, taking one hand off of Luka to rub the tiny mark forming on his cheek.

"That he does." Anarka puffed out her chest with pride and patted her fist against it. "He'll be throwing scoundrels overboard in no time."

Sabine raised a brow at her, wondering if she should be worried, but her thoughts drifted as she looked back at Tom. Seeing him hold a baby reminded her, "Oh, he hasn't met Marinette yet, has he?"

Tom gasped in realization. "He hasn't!" He met Anarka's gaze, questioning, "Should we have a little playdate for them?"

"Your girl is here?" She put a hand on her hip, surveying the room skeptically.

Sabine cut in, looking under the counter at something. "She was napping when we checked on her, but she's awake right now. You two can head up, I'll take care of things here."

Thus, Anarka followed Tom out the back of the bakery and up the stairs, with Tom rambling about the balance between working the bakery, having enough surveillance on Marinette so they knew when she'd need them, and getting others to babysit when it became too much. They didn't have relatives nearby besides Tom's father, who "wasn't around despite being around" as Tom delicately put it, while his mother was off traveling who knew where.

Ergo, their friends helped when needed.

Quietly as a mouse, which was funny considering his size, Tom slowly and cautiously opened the door to the living room. While Marinette had been asleep before, visually apparent from the few strands out of place amongst her soft black hair, they found her sitting in a playpen and playing with a stuffed animal. She'd lay down, holding it above her, then let it drop, but whatever reaction she expected it to make appeared to disappoint her - as much as a baby could sound disappointed - and she'd try again.

Anarka glanced up, spotting a camera in the corner of the room aimed at the baby girl, and guessed that was how Sabine knew Marinette had been awake. She gave it a faux salute, then turned when Tom started talking again.

"We've been calling it Marinette-proof," he explained, indicating the playpen itself and the toys inside. "You wouldn't believe it unless you saw it yourself. We gave her one of those little toys - the ones where you put the shapes in the holes - but not the hard ones; you blew them up with air. She was having a blast until she tried to throw one into the hole; it missed and bounced off, then bounced off the side of the playpen and hit her square in the face!"

He directed a hand to his own face to show roughly where it hit her while Anarka whistled, sympathetic but almost impressed by the bad luck on display. She was seeing a future child of chaos, surely.

She approached and leaned over the playpen, supporting herself with an arm against the edge of it as she wondered aloud, "What's she up to?"

Tom came up beside her and leaned over to get a fully unobstructed view of his daughter. "That one's supposed to stick to her, but she doesn't know how to make it do that." He sighed, but smiled tiredly. "She likes to be held during all the time we can't make for her. She's probably ignoring me because I had to put her down last. Isn't that right, pudding cup?"

Marinette didn't react, nor did she to the pitiful noise Tom made afterwards.

Upon closer inspection, Anarka spotted the soft pads on the end of the stuffed animal's arms, figuring that they'd stick to each other when brought together. While Tom's observation seemed accurate that Marinette didn't get how it worked, she at least appeared to be making a game out of dropping the stuffed animal on herself, or maybe it was only generally giving her some form of satisfaction.

Luka, whose back was facing the playpen due to him being held against Tom's chest, turned his head to follow the attention of the two adults, which was directed solely on Marinette. While she had largely ignored the two adults, the new set of eyes on her made her look up.

Anarka's baby boy and Tom and Sabine's baby girl made eye contact for the first time.

Then, without a prompt or question, Luka let go of Tom's shirt and stretched his arms out for Marinette. He pitched forward like before, trying to launch himself into the playpen headfirst, and Tom made a panicked move to keep him from plummeting for the second time that day.

"You only have one mother!" he whisper-yelled. "Do you want to lose her to a heart attack?"

Anarka, intrigued, reached out to take her son in her arms, slowly putting him down next to Marinette. "He's never done that to someone who wasn't upset, who wasn't his sister..."

Both babies stared at each other in some unspoken staring contest, Luka's arms still out as he leaned towards her. The stuffed animal, once so interesting to Marinette that it'd had her full attention, was set aside without so much of a glance at it. She stretched her arms out and went towards him as well, losing her balance but falling against him.

They both went down onto the soft surface at the bottom of the playpen, letting out little noises and giggles that almost made it seem like they were having a conversation. Tom and Anarka waited, though they weren't quite sure for what: for Marinette to finally get bored of being held by someone and push Luka away, or for Luka to finally reach his limits of holding onto someone and let go?

Neither happened. They moved occasionally, rolled around, got back up just to fall over each other again, but never released one another.

Anarka grinned, waving her wrists about to make her bracelets jingle and see if it might get their attention, but they were completely distracted. "I think my son's found himself a co-captain!"

"A what?"

—————

From there, Anarka brought Luka over as much as possible. There was no reason not to and both Luka and Marinette received all the benefits from it. It was perhaps a little early to call them playmates before they could fully understand the concept, but they enjoyed seeing each other. They brightened whenever they made eye contact and curbed the other's "worst" habit.

The parents let the other babysit for them at times. Anarka could take Marinette when Tom and Sabine were too busy, and Tom and Sabine could take Luka when Anarka needed a break from dealing with twins. Marinette and Luka had even slept in the same crib on occasion.

It was precious. The parents were fairly sure the two didn't know what sharing was yet, but the babies would play together, wait their turn when being fed, and showed each other their toys.

That wasn't to say there weren't problems, but they were purely emotional, meaning realizing their baby had a new favorite person that wasn't them.

The worst of it was when the babies started to talk. Tom and Sabine had been holding out (maybe even placed a bet or two on which of them would be her first word), but they knew deep down that Marinette's utterance of "uuka" was not just a random noise.

On Anarka's end, she had the relative luxury of pretending that "Mah" was for "Mama" and not the first part of Marinette's name.

—————

Inevitably, the babies started to grow up into semi-functioning human beings. It was speculated that they might start unattaching from each other as they gained more personality, still being friends but not clinging to each other as much. However, that did not happen, which served as something both sickeningly adorable but headache-inducing.

The moment Luka could walk without falling and memorize a path he'd been carried through over and over, Tom and Sabine caught him at the door to the bakery. He could barely open it himself, but looked up with bright, Marinette-seeking eyes like he'd done nothing wrong, all while the two co-owners peeked outside frantically for any sign of his mother.

They made sure to keep the side door locked starting that day, just to make sure Marinette wouldn't sneak out to see him too.

Since they were old enough to grasp the concept of sharing now, that was exactly what they did. Whenever one brought toys over to the other's to share, at least one or two stayed there, and Anarka laughed when she commented that Luka had about 60% of Marinette's toys and only 40% of his own in his room.

Not that it really mattered. They saw each other so often that they never regretted leaving a toy with the other, and there was a mutual unspoken promise that they'd take good care of them. The only reason the parents themselves could tell whose toy it was, even if they couldn't remember who they bought them for, was based on the type of toy it was: Luka leaned towards musical toys or ones that made sounds while Marinette liked colorful toys or ones that had her solving problems.

Luka even left his little guitar with Marinette once; his guitar, simply because she told him that she liked how it sounded! The situation was remedied when she realized that it didn't sound good without him, but it showed how close they were.

They still slept together from time to time, and not always because they stayed the night at the other's house. After a day of hard work (play), they could be found peacefully passed out together, either on the bed or a little blanket they'd put down to play on so they wouldn't be sitting on the hard floor.

It wasn't always the same. Sometimes there'd be a stuffed animal between them, or Luka's child-sized guitar would still be strapped to him like he'd lulled them both to sleep with his playing, and other times it was apparent that they'd deliberately set everything aside for a nap. On rarer occasions, they'd have tiny crumbs on their mouths, indicative of having raided the fridge for snacks before settling down to sleep.

Snacks they fed each other, in all likelihood.

It was difficult to get mad about it. Tom took pictures while Sabine sighed and made excuses about it being their fault for not hiding the sweets well enough. It probably didn't help that Anarka thought it was positively delightful, more proud than anything else when such little kids could coordinate so efficiently to find snacks no matter where or how high up they were.

On one day in particular, Tom and Sabine awoke to the small knocking noises against their bedroom door. Sabine slipped out and headed over to the door, opening it to find their little girl on the other side.

"Marinette? What's wrong?" she asked in concern.

Marinette sniffled, dressed in her pajamas but certainly not in bed. A plush was attached to her arm, as she actually got how those worked nowadays.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Sabine pressed.

Marinette nodded, looking ashamed by the fact.

"Aww, gumdrop," Tom began, getting out of the bed as well. He lifted the blanket and gestured towards the center of the mattress, offering, "Come here. You can sleep with us for the night."

She blinked her shimmering eyes at the spot indicated for her, then Sabine, then back at Tom. Finally, she shook her head, saying with a pout, "No. I want Luka."

Tom's expression cracked like an egg into flour, the man having never felt so betrayed in his life.

—————

Years continued to pass, and with the passage of time came Marinette and Luka continuing to grow up. Toys were slowly traded out for more consistent hobbies and the parents were still cherishing the precious moments when they could call their child their "baby" without any fuss about it.

Of course, with that came the cuddling elephants in the room that Tom and Sabine had consistently put off over and over, because how do you tell two preteens who had been sleeping together since literally before they could even remember that they shouldn't anymore?

"The longer we put this off, the harder it's going to be on them," Sabine said, trying to be the voice of reason between the two. It was a slow day at the bakery, making it easier for them to have a conversation.

Tom made a noise at the back of his throat, not at all enthusiastic at the idea. He hit the dough he was kneading in a mini fit of exhaustion, specks of flour being flung off onto his apron. "Maybe Anarka will talk to Luka about it soon?"

The two made eye contact for a long, considering moment, then shook their heads. Anarka was not going to talk to Luka, and they knew that. She found their relationship as "co-captains" (a term which Tom still had not gotten an explanation for) to be something that shouldn't be intruded upon.

Sabine tapped on the counter, then bent down to grab an "out on break, be back soon" sign they hadn't needed since Marinette was much, much younger. She headed over to the front door and hung it, then spun around to face Tom, hands on her hips in a show of confidence.

"We should do it now."

"Now?" he repeated, having not been given any time to prepare.

"They're both here." She pointed upwards. "We'll get it out of the way, and then we'll never have to think about it again."

Reluctantly, he relented and followed her to their self-designated fate. No matter how used to cuddling Luka and Marinette were, they were still a boy and a girl who were exhibiting signs of puberty, and it was hard to know what might happen going forward.

When they reached the top of the stairs next to the kitchen, Sabine knocked to let them know they'd be coming in. There was no answer, so she knocked again, louder, but the room on the other side remained quiet.

Exchanging a knowing look, the two invited themselves in, expecting to see the preteens lying down on the chaise lounge or Marinette's bed (in the worst case scenario), yet they weren't on either. While they initially feared that the two had snuck out for some rebellious preteen shenanigans, they noticed the abandoned guitar near the wall - Luka wouldn't have left without that - and light pouring in from above the bed.

They headed up themselves, careful not to make too much noise, and peeked up at the balcony to confirm their suspicions.

There, of course, were the two sources of their concern, sharing one lounge chair instead of the two they had blatantly bought so they had separate and equally comfy places to sit. Luka had seemingly laid down first, but with one socked foot on the floor and his legs crossed. The action gave Marinette ample legroom on the footrest as she slept on top of him, her face against him to hide from the sun while her hand gripped his hoodie. She was in just the right position for Luka to curl against her, hiding his own face against her hair while he held her.

They were like two black kittens sunbathing together.

Sabine hesitated. So did Tom. They looked at each other for a solid minute, having a wordless discussion on the matter, then sighed and left the two alone.

It wasn't a moment of weakness, they told themselves; it was just better than the alternative where the two resorted to cuddling and sleeping together in secret at Anarka's place instead of where they could see them.

—————

Juleka didn't have any particular feelings about her brother cuddling someone. Marinette was her friend, which was practically guaranteed to happen with how much Marinette came over when they were young and also now. Her mother told her stories of Luka's habit as a baby that bothered Juleka at times but perfectly aligned with Marinette's, and that checked out.

She felt the nice balance of their relationship the way it was. Luka cared about her, doted on her, but she was given space to herself when needed. In a home where they shared a room, it was nice to know that he had other places he could go or be at just about any time.

There was at least one moment when she realized that she was bothered by the seemingly endless capacity for affection on display, but it hadn't been jealousy that someone else was getting her brother's attention.

Rather, it was jealousy that her brother was getting to cuddle a cute girl, a feeling that Juleka shelved for a couple years until she could make sense of it.

Overall, she considered it a positive for all involved. Most entertaining, actually, were the people who didn't know about it and came to hang out for the first time, an occasion that Juleka put her full focus towards.

Her most vivid memory was having a group of friends over: ones who knew Marinette, but hadn't met Luka yet. She'd considered warning them, but decided it'd be funnier to catch the reaction in real time and took them down to the lounge room.

Luka was there, and of course he was because Marinette was there too. The two stared when Juleka and her friends entered, oblivious as to why they were getting looks. Marinette even had the audacity to ask, "What?"

A sight Juleka had grown all too used to seeing was right in front of her again: Marinette in Luka's lap, which was just as much of a home for her as it was for Luka's guitar. Said guitar was atop her lap instead, Marinette leaning against Luka and making it easy for him to put his arm around her to reach the guitar's neck.

"Hey, Jule," Luka greeted, unphased and not putting much thought into the reactions.

The total nonchalance he had about getting "caught" caused Juleka's friends to turn their eyes to her instead, desperate for an explanation. She mumbled a greeting back to Luka and turned away, pretending to look in the cupboard for snacks whilst trying to contain her laughter.

—————

It was inevitable, perhaps, that word would spread at Marinette's school. The bakery was right next to it, thus making for an easy view of the balcony. It wasn't like Luka and Marinette were at all careful either, not getting why they would ever have to hide how close they were.

In a way, it was more surprising that it took until Marinette was a teenager for it to be brought up. She had been sitting in the cafeteria, biting into an apple, when a hand slammed down on the table. She peered past the fruit to see Chloe, who normally disappeared around lunch to eat elsewhere, but apparently had nothing better to do that day than to bother her.

"Hey, Marinette DuPlain-Jane," she sneered, searching through her phone rather than looking at her.

Marinette munched idly, wondering how many hours Chloe spent coming up with that. A voice in her head pointed out, That's generous. It was a week at least.

The same voice corrected a second later, Actually, bet Sabrina came up with it.

She'd been bullied by Chloe for years, so she'd had countless memories of going to the Liberty rather than home in order to cry in Luka's arms as soon as possible. He held her the whole time without complaint, serving as her support outside of school.

"I'm with you," he'd promised at one point, squeezing her middle and pulling her against him. She could still imagine the sensation of his warmth against her, developed over all their time together, and his voice next to her sounding so pained due to being unable to physically be there for her.

It felt like so long ago, which was also when she'd stopped crying. She put up with the bullying, knowing that the staff didn't really care anyway, and calmed herself thinking of all the conversations she and Luka had over her, as well as the conversations she would have with him in the future.

For example, he'd scoffed when she told him about being in the same class as Chloe that year and getting bullied the very same day. "So you grew up, and she didn't? How is she still in your class?"

Marinette just barely managed to suppress a snort as the line replayed itself in her head, not wanting to instigate Chloe any further than Chloe instigated herself against her. That said, the bullying largely bounced off of her now that she was in her mid-teens.

With a noise loud enough for the whole cafeteria to hear, Chloe slammed her phone down on the table. On the screen was an image of Luka on the Liberty, sleeping on a lounge chair with Marinette on top of him as usual. Lounge chairs were always their favorites when they sunk down in the middle like it wanted to be an understudy for a hammock; it helped keep them close together.

"Sleeping with a boy?"Chloe asked, also deliberately loudly. "What do you think the whole school's going to think about this?"

Marinette wondered if Chloe could send that picture to her. Excluding the shoddy photo-taking job, it was of her and Luka, and she could always digitally edit it to fix any weirdness.

Point being was that she didn't see what there was to be ashamed of, but telling Chloe that wouldn't go anywhere. While she didn't tend to engage with Chloe when she was being bullied, it was fun to do it every now and then when she could think of something to say that might be fun to tell Luka later. He'd hold her tenderly while listening to her, and his warm, low laugh would echo in her mind for the whole day afterwards.

Glancing at the photo again, Marinette put her apple down and muttered, "How embarrassing."

"Isn't it?" Chloe's smirk widened. "Because I'm about to send it—"

"For you," Marinette corrected with faux concern. "Of course you think it's embarrassing when you've never had a boyfriend before. You're still young."

Whatever Chloe was going to say next, it cut off with a choking noise. "Wha—I'm just as old as you!"

"Couldn't tell." She grabbed the stem of her apple, turning it to spin the fruit on her tray. "So something else bothered you? Oh—" She placed her other hand to her mouth in mock surprise, though she actually grimaced at the thought it conjured up when she said, "Sorry, I'm not interested in girls."

Chloe flushed bright red, either in shame, embarrassment, or both. She might've exploded right then and there by trying to start an actual fight if she felt that she could get away from it.

No longer hungry - not after Chloe breathed in the general direction of her food - Marinette slowly got up from her seat and picked up the tray.

"You—how dare you—!" Chloe hissed.

Giving her just a little more attention that she didn't deserve, Marinette gave her a once-over, eyeing the red cheeks, the blue eyeshadow, and the blond hair. Pointing to Chloe's face, Marinette added, "By the way, yellow, red, and blue are a really bad combination on you."

With that, she left, glad that Luka with his receptive hearing wasn't around to hear the shrill yell behind her.

—————

Luka let out an exhausted sigh, taking a moment to relax against the wall of a building. His part-time job wasn't awful, but it could be tiring with all the biking around and infrequent "bad" customer. Marinette tended to scold him when he looked too worn out (whatever standard that was), fretting over his whole body and reminding him to take breaks.

Thus, he made sure to do so whenever he could. Maybe he could've gotten away with not taking a break if he knew he wasn't going to be seeing her after work, but such instances were few and far between. They saw each other often enough that he probably had more pictures of him with her in his phone than with his own sister.

Not only because taking pictures together gave him an excuse to text her later to send it over.

He smiled to himself, glancing at the thin, red object hanging off of his bike. It was actually something meant to hang up in cars, but Marinette had gotten it for him as a gift.

"The smell of strawberries always perks me up!" she'd told him at the time. "Maybe it'll work for you too!"

He knew it wouldn't, but happily accepted it anyway. He could never say no to her and wouldn't dare refuse anything he could add to his collection of Marinette's various presents to him.

The reason he knew that it wouldn't work was because Marinette smelled like strawberries. After literal years of cuddling, he'd associated her with the scent, which brought him a sense of calm, warmth, and home. The "perking up" was only when she invited him over or told him she needed him, adding an extra rush to his steps.

That didn't stop him from hanging the air freshener on his bike, giving it a playful tap whenever he got off as if to say 'I'll be right back,' and enjoying the scent whenever he biked anywhere. Even the picture of strawberries on it reminded him of Marinette, as strawberries were shaped similarly to her pigtails back when she still had them.

His friends at school rolled their eyes whenever they saw it, but it was all in good fun. They'd seen him with her so many times - enough that they could joke "where there's a Marinette, there's a Luka" and vice versa - and never hesitated to tease him or ask if they'd "finally" gotten together. Juleka wasn't immune to it either, though had learned that she'd get the same answer every time.

Luka couldn't comprehend the obsession everyone had with what his relationship with Marinette was, nor the looks he'd get when he said they weren't dating but weren't "just friends." To him, Marinette wasn't a friend, wasn't a best friend, nor his girlfriend. She was, however, special to him, which was about as far as he went to put any sort of "label" on what they had.

His mother had used the term "co-captains" before, which he accepted but wouldn't use himself. How would one begin to describe a bond that extended past what they could remember?

He thought of it in the same way he thought of music. Words weren't always enough to carry emotion, and a person could be made to feel with music alone even if there weren't lyrics to tell them what the sound was trying to convey.

Luka was Luka, Marinette was Marinette, and together they just were. He could've searched for a word that might define what they had, but he didn't need to: he and Marinette understood on an abstract level what they had and that was what mattered.

A guitar without strings, a piano without keys, and a drum without a drumskin: all things that remained physical but ultimately incomplete. That was how he felt, as Marinette had been a core part of his very being and he didn't want to - couldn't, really - imagine life without her.

He paused, contemplative, then pulled out his phone and tapped down some notes. Such thoughts could make for a good song, he figured.

He sent the notes to Marinette first, as usual.

—————

Seasons passed, fashion trends faded, and songs moved onto the next verse, but Marinette and Luka's relationship stayed the same: older and wiser, sure, yet no less attached at the hip. Whether it was a driver's license or graduation, they shared their experiences with the other, who celebrated like it was their own.

Luka, being older than Marinette, had deliberately held off on going anywhere, so Juleka moved out before him. Moving out tended to mean going farther away and there weren't any places he could go that both suited him and were just as close (or closer) to the bakery.

It seemed utterly ridiculous to anyone who knew, because it wasn't as if the distance was going to stop them. They were both perfectly capable of driving and each had either a bike or a Vespa, thereby making a little extra distance negligible, but it was about the conscious choice for Luka. The path they'd both walked to reach each other from childhood to adulthood was precious to him, and they walked that path even when they had other options. To make the decision to move further away than he already was, it was unthinkable.

He never said any such thing out loud, but Marinette knew. She too had a fondness for the places they'd been together, her balcony alone littered with recollections of being there with Luka to spotting Luka walking along the path below, which often led to her rushing down the stairs at full speed to meet him at the door. She never called it nostalgia, as she wasn't sad to leave it behind, but only on the condition that it meant newer, closer experiences with him.

"We'll just have to move in together. It's the only way," she concluded at some point when he'd brought up the topic of her ideal home. She noticed his awestruck face, feeling almost shy but not really, and shrugged. "Finding two places close enough together might be a problem, and we don't even know if it'll be as easy as the way between the Liberty and the bakery." She made a motion of drawing a line between them, which was a difficult task when they were pressed together. "Unless you—"

"Yes," Luka interrupted immediately. He squeezed her tight and murmured another affirmative into her shoulder, though it was more of a sound than a word. It was like when they were still babies and Luka wanted something but didn't have the vocabulary to express it.

She buried herself against him and echoed the same sound back at him.

—————

To absolutely no one's surprise, finding a place to settle into did nothing to curb the habits of old. If anything, they got worse, as Marinette and Luka "didn't have to waste valuable time heading to see each other" that they could've already been spending with each other. Marinette might've wished she'd done it with him sooner if she hadn't known that her poor parents would've protested at the idea of her leaving the proverbial nest so soon.

But now, the two without a label were free to do as they wished. That meant holding hands whenever they weren't busy doing anything, still staying close when they were busy doing something, and making sure their house had seating that had its hammock-esque quality so they could sink against each other all over again. They got a bed to share that was cheaper than one that two people might buy normally, confident that they wouldn't need one at full width since they already slept so close anyway.

There were also new experiences to be had that they either couldn't fully take in while living separately or didn't have the occasion to before. Luka would hug Marinette from behind when she was cooking, or she'd swoop in to squeeze him when he'd come out into the living room in a bathrobe she'd made for him, fresh out of a shower.

Discussing meals they wanted to have over the course of the week, trying to sync their off days so they could make plans together, always being ready for the other to fall into their arms after a particularly hard day, and the list went on. They'd done just about everything, and it was as perfect as they could've asked for.

Marinette was thinking exactly that as she woke up one morning, not bothering to move since she didn't have anywhere in particular to be. Luka was waking up himself, smiling down at her and keeping her comfortably in his arms. It was difficult not to sync their sleeping schedules with how they were, finding the bed too tempting when the other was laying on it, so they often woke up as one unit.

She was amazed when she thought about it, how one moment from their infancy could lead up to this. Anarka had told her the story before of how they met, a baby girl sitting alone in her playpen and the baby boy who reached his arms out to her. She couldn't say what had been running through her infant mind at the time, but she was glad she reached back.

Visions of the past came together, of Luka when he was a child accepting snacks she fed him, of Luka as a teenager with his arm reaching out to her on pure muscle memory, and finally the adult Luka of the present who lived with her. She saw the highlights in his hair that he'd asked her to pick the color for, the piercings in his ears that he'd gotten while she held his hand in case it hurt him, and the lips that whispered words of comfort and affection to her whether she needed or simply wanted them.

Without another thought, she kissed those very lips. There wasn't any fanfare, or a grand declaration, or any other indication of it prior beyond the heat in her gaze; it just felt right. They'd held hands, they'd cuddled, they'd licked bits of melted chocolate or sauce from the other's fingers, and they'd pressed their foreheads together for minutes on end. Kissing was natural, like they'd been doing it forever or it was an extension of everything they'd done before.

As she pulled away, he followed after her, not letting the contact break for even a moment. His arms went further around her, one hand going lower towards her hip and the other to her shoulder. His kiss was slow at first, then more fervent when she grabbed at him to keep him close.

It wasn't a next step in their relationship, nor changed it in any significant way. The love that flowed off their tongues when calling the other's name had been there for a long time, and they would continue to do everything they already did. It was just more of each other, only with less talking.

They didn't leave the bed until their stomachs protested for them to eat, an unintentional mirror image of two babies sharing a crib until they were made to separate.

[bobbedazzled]

JIRIT-JIRIT

pairing: xavier x reader words: 2.1k content: smut, clueless xavier x clueless reader A/N: how yall like the new look? hehehe | been working on this for ages so I forgot what inspired this | another attempt writing smut scenes but got lazy at the end | you can’t imagine the amount of revision I did | gold stars if you know what the title is

11 PM is prime time for bright ideas. Or, in your case, for stewing in your own frustration. Is it too late to text him? Would he think you’re starting conflict on purpose? Or worse, would he think nothing of it at all?

There are many things in this world left to misunderstand. None quite as unfathomable as Xavier’s absolute inability to recognize a cue. A whole month of his laughter, his embrace, the comfortable atmosphere that blossomed between you and your upstairs neighbor. It wasn’t too soon to ask for more, was it?

Not that you hadn’t tried. Oh, how you tried. If effort alone could guarantee success, you would have been well acquainted with his body by now.

The lingering gazes, the strategically applied lip gloss. The dramatically wistful sighs, carefully timed and placed in aesthetic settings—the softly lit roads on the walk home, the empty hallway outside your apartment, the dim glow of your lamp after inviting him in. All bases loaded, primed for a home run, only to have him pat your head and send you off, declaring how he’s looking forward to seeing you at work tomorrow.

Xavier, for all his many admirable qualities, was as romantically perceptive as a brick wall. It would be easier to physically grab his face and spell it out for him, but you refused to be the one to initiate. Your dream of being swept off your feet by your prince stood tall. It was a matter of principle.

Was.

What broke the camel’s back?

Dinner at yours—a spontaneous “date” that, in all likelihood, was only prompted by the smell of smoke wafting down to your balcony. Still, he had had made the effort to get dressed, and you had changed out of your ratty T-shirt.

Xavier was in an unusually playful mood. He leaned in just a little too close, his breath tickling your cheek in a way that sent involuntary shivers down your spine. He stole bites off your plate, the warmth of his arm behind you pressing gently against your back.

“Do you want another bite?” he asked, offering his fork to you.

You turned with a pout. “I’m not trading with you. I told you my order was better.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his idle hand resting at your hip. Your breath hitched, your heart drumming in your ears as you turned to meet his gaze—intense, unwavering. The pad of his thumb pressed just a second too long against your skin. He leaned in, his grip tightening. His lips barely parted, and for a moment, you could almost feel the warmth of his breath against your mouth. Anticipation buzzed in your veins, your pulse stuttering as your lips parted instinctively.

And then, as if the universe itself had scripted it for its own amusement, he brought his thumb to his lips instead, tasting the remnants of sauce that had smudged from your mouth. He’s immediately amused by your expression.”Did you need a kiss?” He teased, punctuating it with a light peck between his giggles.

Heat flared up your neck as he pinched your cheek. Was it frustration? Embarrassment? Maybe frustration at the embarrassment. You cooled down for the rest of the night, unmoved by his additional teasing. The tension? Shattered. The moment? Gone. Xavier? Most likely oblivious.

Which made talking about it so much worse.

A Can We Talk text. The situation felt ridiculous to talk about aloud, but slightly less so in writing. So early in the relationship, and here you were, complaining about a lack of intimacy. How could something so small keep you up at night?

He responded fairly quickly—his heart probably hopped right out of his body.

❛❛It’s nothing serious.I’ve just been feeling rejected lately❞t’s nothing serious. I’ve just been feeling rejected lately❞

The note sat on “seen.” The life drained from the room as you stared at the screen, willing his reply bubble to appear. Your heart pounded. His silence prompted you to continue.

❛❛When we're alone, you don’t initiate anything, and when I try to or give you signals it feels like you ignore them on purpose.”

Your fingers hovered over the keys. Too much? Too little? You prayed he didn’t see you as some kind of perv.

❛❛is this an argument?❞

Oh no.

❛❛No!! Not at all!! I’m just saying what I feel. It’s been on my mind for a while and I thought taking about it would help.❞

Thank god for texting—a phone call would have you stumbling to over-explain yourself. You cringed as “seen” burned into your screen again.

❛❛I’m not sure what to say ❞

Ugh.

❛❛I’m sorry for letting it bother you, but I’m confused.Can you maybe put more effort into the signs you give me?I don’t mean to ignore you.❞

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. This was normal. A normal conversation between a new couple. “Nothing wrong with wanting to be wanted,” you muttered to yourself.

❛❛Yea I’ll try.❞

Your heart fluttered as the phone buzzed again.

❛❛Are you still coming over tomorrow?❞

󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

You sent a good morning text—a rare occurrence, an almost foreign action that felt oddly significant as you hesitated over the send button. It had been a while since you’d bothered with casual affection in digital form, your recent messages reduced to mundane grocery lists, vague reminders, and the occasional exchange of photos. Staring at the screen, you debated adding something more, something lighthearted to smooth over the lingering awkwardness of last night’s conversation, but nothing came.

The day passed in a strange, anticipatory haze. It hadn’t ended badly. last night’s conversation had been clarifying, persistent anxiety still thrummed beneath your skin, needling at your composure as the evening crept closer. You found yourself standing before your closet far longer than necessary, rifling through fabrics and colors with growing exasperation. It was just a movie night, nothing formal, nothing requiring effort.

Yet its casualty depended on you being unbothered, unaffected, as if last night’s confession hadn’t lodged itself deep in your chest. Hangers clattered to the floor as you yanked outfit after outfit from their place, frustration mounting with every rejected option. The absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on you. It was just Xavier.

When you finally arrived at his door, breath slightly unsteady from the internal war you’d waged against your own reflection, he opened it with that familiar, easy smile, a bowl of popcorn cradled in his arm as if the night ahead had not a single thread of tension woven into it.

The routine you shared naturally unfolded. Bantering over snacks, playfully bickering between movie selections, settling into the comfort of familiarity that had always been the cornerstone of your time together. And yet, beneath the practiced rhythm of it all, something simmered—an awareness, an unspoken shift in the air between you.

After the second film, the chatter faded. The room grew still. The silence stretched with something that neither of you quite knew how to address. The glow of the television cast restless shadows across the room, flickering across his face as he turned to you, gaze unreadable. 

“I upset you yesterday.” His voice was soft.

You cringed. “No, not at all. Like I said, I feel—just…”

“undesirable?” he finished. He turned to face you, scanning your features. Your pulse quickened at his unfamiliar expression. His fingers curled around your wrist, pulling you closer. “You don’t know how wrong you are?”

He shifted on the couch until your hips touched, his free hand pressed against the sofa arm, boxing you in. “Wait, Xavier.” One hand braced against his arm while the other ghosted against his lips. His gaze remained locked onto yours as he placed slow, deliberate kisses against your fingers, trailing them down to your wrist. He nuzzled into your skin.

“I know you said it’d feel forced,” he murmured, “but you don’t realize how long I’ve waited for your permission.”

His grip loosened, his hands shifting to your waist, toying with the fabric of your shirt—waiting.

“I thought you were ignoring me,” you admitted, fingers balling up his sleeves.

“Lip gloss isn’t consent.” He chuckled.

You flushed, half-embarrassed, half-surprised at his acknowledgment. His amusement fades as your name escapes his lips in a whisper, heavy with something unspoken lingering between you. His fingers trace slow, reverent lines against your waist, mapping the curve of your body. The room hums with the weight of anticipation, the fragile thread of reserve unraveling with every second that passes.

His gaze flickers between your lips and eyes, searching for hesitation, for restraint, for any flicker of uncertainty—but there is none. Now aware of your feelings, he wastes no time reintroducing himself to your body. Your grip on his sleeve clawing up to the base of his neck as he deepens the kiss. 

He slowly consumes you, noses pressed against one another as your bodies collide against the couch. Frustration builds as he slips between your legs, a hand clawing at the denim, begging for access.

His teeth graze over your lower lip, dragging your mouth agape and slipping his tongue in to explore. The savory taste of popcorn wiping away what flavor was left from your candy. 

He guides you into his lap by your belt loops as he peppered your exposed skin in kisses. “I’ve kept you waiting, haven’t I?” His breath sent ripples through your body, chapped lips moistened by the sweat gathering at your skin. “Is this your way of punishing me?” He smiles, snuggling into your flushed skin as he flicks your waistband.

“We weren’t supposed to do anything tonight.” You counter, heart pounding against his.

A hand drifts down to the curve of your ass. He squeezes through the stiff denim, dragging you forward and over the lump forming underneath his pants.

“And now that I know what you want, you deny me access?”

His body is as hot as yours. You don’t feel him in your shirt, only the fiddling of your bra  back as he searches for the hooks. You press your hands against his chest.

“Xavier, not here—“

You barely finish before he hikes you up into his arms, carrying you to his room in large strides. The bed frame croaks as your back hits the mattress, tousling the bedding as you work at each other’s clothes. The warmth of his breath against your skin, the featherlight pressure of his touch, the heat that pools low in your stomach as his hands tilt you into him. The world outside ceases to exist, swallowed by the steady drum of your pulse, the heady closeness of him, the unspoken devotion woven into the way he holds you.

Your bodies quickly mend together. The anticipation built between you numbing the pain as your body catches up with him. One hand riding up to his hair while the other lays flat on the small of his back, encouraging his slow, shallow thrusts. He fondles the soft flesh of your hips, forcing your hips to meet as he drags deeper inside. Moving together, you can barely make out the lewd praise escaping his lips as the knot in your stomach begins to swell.

Xavier twitches—not long after your body welcomes him, he retreats, uttering a long, throaty groan. You grip around him, begging him to stay, and whining as he trails kisses down your torso. His laughter tickles your stomach as a heavy hand commands you to hold still.

“Shhh, I forgot to greet a guest.”

His lips follow the curve of your mound, wasting no time tasting and teasing the flower blooming before him. Your breathing becomes laborious, the warmth of his tongue sending ripples through your body while the ache of your release lingers.

“More” you moan.

He needs no further guidance, lapping up the sap escaping your slit before dragging up to your bud. His head pokes out from between your thighs, eyes fixed on your expression. The suckling accompanied by the warmth of his tongue manipulating you forces the knot in your stomach to come undone, trembling against his shoulder. As you ride the wave of your release, he emerges from your legs glistening with slick—smearing it on the inner side of your thigh before licking away the leftovers. His touch sends sparks down your spine as he traces up your figure.

His face  finding its way back to yours, sweat mingling as your foreheads press together. “Keep going?” His voice lowered when he spoke, humming pleasantly against your ear. A hand lines up your leg, fitting his shoulder behind your knee. His hips stutter as he strokes himself against your folds, lubing his length with the remnants of your orgasm, teeth grazing your neck as he teases your aching entrance. 

“Should I wait for a signal?”

[cacartoon]

Wait now I'm curious, how did each octo-agents react or do when they learn Captain Barnacles have "dead" or been missing for a year now?🤔

The response from the Octo-Agents and Junior Octo-Agents were definitely something.

Octo-Agent Paani was stunned by the news. Devastated to be sure, but stunned by such news. During the early search, before the Octonauts broke up, Paani assisted with searching on land and waterways. To this day unbeknownst to Kwazii and the other Octonauts, he’s still searching too.

Octo-Agent Pearl was heartbroken for the Octonauts, especially Shellington. Periwinkle was heartbroken as well but hopeful that Captain Barnacles was okay. Pearl and Periwinkle assisted with the early search on land but when the Octonauts broke up, their attention fell to Shellington and making sure he was supported through the grieving process.

Octo-Agent Ryla and Junior Octo-Agent Koshi were shaken by the news. While Ryla was mainly familiar with cave diving and exploration, she offered all she could to the search. When Dashi returned to Australia post break up, Ryla offered her support and brought Dashi back on as her photographer. She was one of the strongest supports for Dashi’s grieving process.

Junior Octo-Agent Koshi, being naturally curious, continued to explore every possibility for the fate of Barnacles.

Octo-Agent Ranger Marsh was ready and willing to help Tweak and the other Octonauts in the search. He knew how close Tweak was with the captain and wanted to be as supportive as possible. When the break up happened, he was who Tweak ran to for support. It broke his heart to see his daughter fall to despair, but did everything he could to help. He even brought Tweak on as another ranger to try and give Tweak a distraction during her grief.

Octo-Agent Professor Natquik was devastated. He knew Barnacles as a cub and mentored him. He was practically his son. He worked closely with Octo-Agent Tracker to search the Arctic and Antarctic for any clues; despite how unlikely it’d be. He was also the one who supported Bianca and the cubs, who didn’t take the news very well. Eventually post break up, he hired on Peso as a medic for the Gup-I.

Junior Octo-Agent Pinto was also devastated, but quickly jumped into the search too. He continued to support Peso while keeping in contact with Koshi about any news.

Octo-Agent Tracker was panicked, but quickly started the search through the Arctic. Even if it wasn’t likely Barnacles ended up there, he had to be sure.

Octo-Agent Calico Jack was ready to help in the search. As a pirate, he knew how important teamwork was and how much the captain meant to everyone. Soon as the break up occurred, he became the main support for Kwazii. Despite the likelihood of Barnacles being gone, he had to keep going with the search. Kwazii appreciated that.

Octo-Agent Bud was saddened by the news. He was one of the newer members but still felt sorry for the Octonauts. When Tweak left the Octonauts, there wasn’t anyone else who helped keep the Gups or Octo Watches up to date. So he took up the mantle as best as he could. Tweak appreciated the support, even in her deep despair.

Octo-Agent Selva was also saddened by the news. She did her best to help in the search on land, including checking up with Shellington and the Vegimals.

Octo-Agent Min felt immense sorrow for Inkling and the others. She knew how important the Octonauts was to him, and knew how much Barnacles meant to everyone. Post break up, she didn’t stop searching either. Though the details of the incident were rather scarce and hectic, she didn’t stop doing her best to understand the ocean currents and map them out. This would prove useful for Paani, who used that information to search waterways and rivers . She also kept in contact with Inkling frequently to keep his spirits up.

[thanksbutno98]

Killer

John Price x fem!readerOC

Authors note: Thank you anon who gave me this idea! You’re a true genius and smacked me in the face with inspiration! Immediately started writing this when I saw the prompt, so this week you’re all getting two fics back to back. This is also the first fic I haven’t shied away from Indy’s true personality so I’m sorry if it’s not as inclusive as my other work.

Summary: John Price is scared for his safety after seeing his wife’s fascination with true crime content.

Warning: sexual themes, swearing, mentions or murder, mentions of serial killers, not edited.

——————

John was just walking in to your home after a grueling day of debriefs and meetings. His back was sore from sitting hunched over his desk for so long. It was hard for John getting home much later than he intended; having lost track of time while doing paperwork. You two had a brief phone call where he apologized for missing dinner and you told him it was alright as long as he brought you home a milkshake.

So here John was, milkshake in hand and ready to plop down on the couch next to you. He was hoping to watch a movie and get you to give him a shoulder rub. The lights were already turned down and your two children were tucked into bed fast asleep. After kicking off his boots John quietly made his way to the living room where he could hear you watching tv.

“So was Jack the Ripper really Jane the Ripper? Thats why this case remains, Unsolved.”

John’s ears were just tuning in to whatever you had on the television. Rounding the corner John was greeted with his sweet, loving wife sitting on the edge of your seat completely engrossed in the murder documentary you had found. You had a bin of laundry next to you as you folded your son and daughter’s clothes.

“What are you watching?” John’s deep voice sounded from the doorway of the living room but you didn’t both glancing over at him.

“A documentary about Jack the Ripper. Although, this theory says that it could have been a woman! Makes a lot of sense.” You skipped all the pleasantries being absent minded enough to forget to greet John properly.

“You think it was a woman who did all that?” John asked, rounding the couch and handing you your drink. You said a quiet thank you and shared a quick peck as a way to welcome your husband home.

“Yeah she could’ve been a nurse! Someone who has a medical background but the likelihood of it being a woman is pretty low.” You babbled on about the new information you had just learned, lively waving your hands as you spoke. John was looking at you with a bit of concern as he sat down on the couch, immediately putting his feet up on the coffee table and lounging back.

“Seems like something a man would do.” John said simply shooting down the theory you had just shared with him. Your face dropped at John dismissing the idea so quickly and you gave him a narrowed eyed look before you spoke.

“Yeah that makes sense. Men do suck.” With a shrug you sighed obnoxiously loud trying to get a reaction from your husband.

“Oi, that’s not what I meant! Men are just more likely to commit violent cri-“

You cut John off, already knowing where his tangent was going. You bated him into reacting strongly anyway and weren’t interested in what he had to say. It was more a ploy to get him to chat about the new found topic you had delved into.

“I mean in that era there wasn’t a ton of medical knowledge. Don’t think it was more than my own. If Jane could do it I could’ve done it, if pushed. I have a pretty good understating of the human body being an archeologist and all.” You were back to babbling away excited to have someone to talk to about the subject.

John stopped listening half way through what you were saying. His mind had latched on to one thing in particular and it made his eyebrows shoot up.

“If pushed?” John asked a bit of worry peaking through his stoic features.

“Yeah, I don’t have a ton of medical knowledge. . . but enough I could get away with it. Or at least maybe I could? I think I have more medical knowledge than a nurse back in that time. I’ll have to look into it.” You were rambling at this point.

It was more of you mulling over the ideas than actually taking it all too seriously. You were using John as a sounding board as to what he thought medical knowledge back in the 1880’s was. You’d have to do some more research later. You were a scientist after all asking this question felt natural to you.

The only reason you had started consuming this content was to better yourself on the assignment you were given at work. It was quite an interesting one that happened to be a possible ancient serial killer. One that dated back before Jack the Ripper and far before the term was coined. It had you enthralled and you were becoming lost in your thoughts that you weren’t realizing your husband’s worried expression.

“Darling, I’m stuck on the ‘if pushed’ part. What would push you to that?” John was now siting forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He was so perplexed by you he had to get a better look at you to see if you were alright.

“I don’t know. Would just have to be pushed to it. Like Jane was.” You shrugged and went back to folding laundry.

“Again, pushed how.” John asked a bit more forceful this time. You didn’t have time for John’s silly question you were taking a mental inventory of questions you needed answered to gain a better understanding on the topic.

“John, I don’t know! Just and off hand comment.” You rolled your eyes at your husband. He clearly didn’t understand you were gathering knowledge and he was being weird about it.

“Okay.” John said skeptically. Watching as you grabbed the laundry basket and went to go upstairs.

——————

“Evening, darling.” John walked into the living room to see you already asleep on the couch.

You looked so endearing curled up under the ruby red blanket with an open bag of crisps sitting on the coffee table. There was another basket of laundry neatly folded but tonight it was John and your clothes. It had been another late night on base but you had been sweet enough to pack John dinner in advance so he wouldn’t have to eat the food there.

With a short chuckle and huge smile John walked around the couch to grab the remote and then carry you to bed. Thats when he realized what was playing on the television. John’s head snapped to the television as he stopped in his tracks to actually listen to what was playing. Picking up the remote he paused Netflix to see you were watching ‘The Ted Bundy Tapes.’

A shiver run up John’s spine at how this of all things could be something you fell asleep to. John’s mind wandered back to the conversation from a few nights ago. Where you said you could commit murder ‘if pushed.’ John was still rattled to hear you say that and now he was starting to see a pattern in what you were watching.

John joked to Ghost once if he didn’t show up to work he was buried in the backyard because he finally pissed you off enough. But now maybe his joke was coming to fruition. John was catching you in the planning phase. No! John shook the thought from his head. You were just weird or something. The murder documentaries weren’t you planning to off him. Right?

John ignored the nagging in his head and chalked it up to his over active mind due to work. Of course he’d be thinking that way after being double crossed after his latest deployment. It made sense to be skeptical of people but not you. You were his person, it was just a weird hyper fixation or something. He knew you could be that way especially after your deep dive into animal planet last year. Don’t even get him started when you discovered The Great British Bake Off that was brutal.

With a deep sigh John turned off the television and placed the remote on the coffee table. Turning back to you he was ready to scoop you up and carry you to bed. Only when he turned to get you, you were sitting up straight as a board, wide eyed, staring straight into his soul.

“Fuck!” John tripped backward and landed with his ass flat on the coffee table. Thank god it was a sturdy piece of furniture as John now sat on it and took a sharp breath.

“You scared me!” You half gasped at John, left hand now clutching your t-shirt over your heart.

“Scared you? Fuck, darling. I-mean. Sorry, you spooked me too. Was going to carry you to bed.” John hunched over and took a breath.

Clearly your new fascination with murder documentaries was getting to John. Or maybe it was the fact he was still so rattled from his last deployment and how he was so blatantly double crossed. Either way he needed to get a grip.

“Well, a free lift sounds pretty nice.” You said sweetly leaning over and wrapping your arms around John’s neck.

You saw that he was a little freaked out and knew how he’d been on edge since coming home. So, you ran your fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings in his ear to help calm him. John let out a sigh of relief feeling your comforting embrace and felt himself relax. He was just being paranoid.

“How about a free ride?” John flirted breathlessly, pulling you closer so you were now sitting in his lap.

“And you call me a minx. Get on the couch soldier. I’ll help clear your head.”

——————

Today was the final straw John had convinced himself he was your target. While you were cooking a quick snack for yourself with your air pods in John glanced at your phone to see what you were listening to. He was expecting one of your audio books or music. What he was not expecting was a true crime podcast of the most renowned serial killers.

Thats how John found himself down in the basement where your office was while you were distracted making yourself a late night snack. He didn’t mean to snoop. Fuck it, he meant to snoop. You had been shut in your office a lot more than usual and John needed to know why.

Now that he was here he hated what he saw. You had detailed notes of serial killers and on top of it all you were mapping out ancient tools that could commit similar crimes. You even had a detailed plan on how said tools could be used to carry out serial murders. John wasn’t sure what he did to have you planning to off him but now he was officially worried. The thought you planned to do it with an artifact felt like he had woken up in a horror novel.

John tried to tell himself he was just paranoid and should ask you what the sudden fascination was about. You definitely had a reasonable explanation. Then the idea of you knowing he was on to you popped into his head. So, John decided to snoop and bring up the topic once he had enough evidence.

Thats when your office door was kicked open with so much force it smacked into the stone wall. John was so engrossed in the horrors in front of him he about jumped out of his skin.

“AH! I saw nothing!” John yelled as you walked into your office, grilled cheese and soda in hand. You didn’t mean to send the door flying and startle your husband. You were only trying to open it with your foot and kicked it a little too hard.

“What?” You asked confused. You looked utterly perplexed as you stood in the doorway. There was no reason your husband should be in your office right now.

“You’re going to off me, aren’t you? I finally drove you mad.” John said in a deadly serious tone. John watched as your upper lip twitched in annoyance and brows furrowed.

“Again. What?” You asked, your tone short due to your confusion and frustration that John was intruding on your space.

John saw this as guilt.

Walking over to the opposite end of the table as your cleary agitated husband you gave him a look, silently asking him to explain himself. John knew how much you hated when anyone went into your office without your permission. Let alone rummage through your things like he had done.

Placing your plate and canned soda down you took a bite of the buttery grilled cheese and waited for John to spit out what ever was clearly bugging him. You were a bit annoyed he was in your office let alone rifling through your work; and accusing you of planning on offing him. Did you even hear him right? You liked to think he was in here for a good reason so you waited for him to include you on his reasoning.

“This!” Johns muscular arm came up to show you your own notes.

“Yeah?” You stared blankly at the detailed findings of your work already knowing what was written in your journal. Without a word you took another bite of your sandwich which seemed to aggravate your husband more.

“Researching ways to murder and dismember people. And how to get away with it?” John tossed your journal onto the long wooden table that was your old dinning room table before you replaced it with the one that currently sat upstairs. You glanced around the room seeing if he had his phone propped up somewhere to record him pranking you or something.

“Again, John. Yeah?” The discussion and annoyance was not getting between you and your food as you continued to eat.

“Stop bloody, eating. Why are you detailing ways to murder someone!? And we sure as hell know it’s going to be me. You’ve already tried once.” John snapped at you.

With a dead pan expression you kept eye contact with the 6’2 Brit and aggressively took another bite silently telling him to ‘fuck off.’ Him saying you tried to kill him once was completely untrue, it was just a miscommunication not attempted murder. Although, clearly John thought you wanted him dead.

“Because I’m looking into what could be an ancient serial killer. For work! So what better way to learn than to figure out what modern day killers tactics are and go backwards.” After you spoke you took the final bite of one half of your sandwich and then cleaned your hands off with your napkin.

Tossing it on the table you placed your hands on your hips as silence enveloped the room. You and John never broke eye contact as the accusatory look washed off his face and was replaced with a look of regret, almost bashful. John was drawing a blank as your words sunk in.

“Oh.” John broke the silence. With a quirked eyebrow you crossed your arms over your chest and popped your hip out to the side.

“Really think I’m gonna off you?” You asked with an annoyed yet amused smirk.

“No.” John was clearly trying to hide the fact he was lying. People trying to take his life at work so frequently was messing with his head.

“You’re not convincing.” You told him with a scoff.

“You’re smart enough to pull it off. You’re kind of scary. Even you said the other night you have enough medical knowledge. Plus-” John smacked his finger on the page that your journal was open to.

“You have a detailed plan of a murder written down.” John was now trying to explain himself as if that would help the situation. You couldn’t help but laugh at how utterly ridiculous he was.

“You’re scared of me?” It was suppose to be a playful remark but it got under John’s skin. You could tell by the way his lip twitched and eyes narrowed. You were slowly stalking over to him as if he were prey and you the hunter. It was a game to you now, you wanted to see how much you could make the big, strong, Captain Price squirm.

“No.” John said sternly, taking the smallest step away as you approached him.

“Liar.” You confidently blurted out then laughed with a giant grin on your face.

It was a rare moment when John was being the irrational one. The only other time he got like this was when you polished the stairs and forgot to tell him. Claiming you were trying to kill him as he laid at the bottom of the stairs. You did truly feel bad as you watched your husband fall down the stairs all the way from the top step. He still hadn’t let it go and brought it up to guilt trip you at times.

“Okay a little” John gave in.

It was mainly your intelligence that spooked him at times. John still didn’t understand how your brain worked so fast and how complex problems for the average person was child’s play for you. Your first murder attempt almost worked but John did have to admit your stairs had never looked so good.

“Good boy. I’ll make sure it’s painless then.” You whispered the last sentence and placed a chaste kiss to John’s cheek.

“What!” John’s head snapped to look at you who was now laughing at his strong reaction.

“I’m joking” The words were lighthearted as your wrapped your arms around John’s waist and gave him a squeeze.

“Good.” John grumbled, placing a quick kiss to the top of your head. That was a relief, at the very least. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulder as he gazed down at you.

“Still, it’s good to be on your toes, Captain. Head on a swivel and all.” You teased, chin resting on his toned chest.

“Darling.” John warned completely unamused with your teasing.

“Kidding. I’ll only kill you if you cheat.” You sealed the words by placing a kiss to his chest and then giving him a pat to his bottom.

“Then I’m in the clear. Thank god.” John said with a chuckle and eye roll.

“Good boy. Now get out of here because this-“ you gestured to your notes and work that were now all out of order and disorganized since John riffled through it.

“Is an ‘if pushed’ scenario.” You whispered seductively yet the threat was evident in your words.

“Right. Won’t go through your work again.” John nodded with a tight lipped smile becoming slightly anxious you were about to snap at him.

“Mhm hm.” You shook your head with a mischievous smile, happy your husband was back to his normal self.

You watched as John made his way to exit your office taking a moment to admire his ass. He was about to leave, not before stealing the other half of your sandwich.

“Put it down!” You called after John only for him to turn, shoot you a wink, and take a massive bite. This was his form of payback for you teasing him. This was also a quality John had adopted in fatherhood, a knack for stealing everyone’s food guilt free.

“Get back here.” You squealed chasing after your husband as he took off with the rest of your sandwich.

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

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[cheegu3]

Hii bbg 😘 💓 💖 💗 💕

If you remember, last year for my birthday on 14th March, I asked you a request for hyunjin-birthday gift and I still read it multiple times time cuz it's just....so arousing and fab...

I've been following you since an year now...and would really love and appreciate if you write another fic for my birthday on 14th March.....and my bias is ofc hyunjin...

I love your intense yandere theme....just write whatever you want....because I trust your writing 🥺😍☺️....and I'm ready for a surprise from you 😉

Also, I'd love to be your 💌 anon pleaseee....

hii babyy, u know I had to come back and deliver for you 🫶🏻 I'm so happy that you're still here after a whole ass year, supporting me and showing so much love, so how could I not write this!!! I hope you have the most amazing birthday <3

for my dearest 💌 anon

genre; yandere, thriller/suspense warnings; yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, toxicity, sex (18+), manipulation, underage drinking, underage smoking, swearing, slut-shaming, etc!! synopsis; after hooking up with a guy that your friend introduced you to on your birthday, you expected it to be the last day you talked to him, as that was your wish. but hyunjin had other plans, and he wasn't going to let you get away so easily. wc; 4.6k

hyunjin - wolf in sheep’s clothing

The rain pattered comfortingly against the window you were leaning against. It shut all of the noise around you out for a few seconds, that was the only calm you got.

Then you were yanked back by your arm and came face to face with a boy about the same age as you. Your brows furrowed as you searched the room to lock eyes with your friend, Liz. She had been the one in charge of planning your birthday outing. You internally sighed, what had she planned now?

The boy took a seat next to you while four others sat down elsewhere, one each for every girl. You had specifically asked her not to bring any boys. Sending a glare her way, you bitterly started sipping on your drink while avoiding the guy’s attempts to talk to you.

‘’ Oh relax, I just invited some guys. They’re from another high school, so there’s no need to worry. ‘’ 

You felt tired all of a sudden. What was supposed to be a small get-together with your friend at a restaurant suddenly turned into a small party that never seemed to end. For once, you were grateful for her fake ID that made it possible for you to have some alcohol though.

‘’ Not having a good birthday? ‘’

You jumped. The guy next to you had just spoken. He sounded very rough and direct, seemingly not caring if you were going to continue ignoring him, he must’ve really wanted to talk to you. 

You finally looked at him. He was handsome, with dark long hair that almost reached his shoulders, plump lips and cat-like eyes. Even though he was sitting down, it wasn’t hard to guess that he was tall from the way his legs stretched out under the table slightly uncomfortably. 

Really, you were lucky, but you were almost certain you’d never go home with him. You had never had a hookup before and the likelihood of you seeing him again was low. You made a mental note to let him down gently at the end of the night.

Still, there was no point in being rude the rest of the outing so you gave him a slight smile and shrugged nonchalantly. ‘’ Could be better.‘’

He laughed, and his laugh was just as beautiful as his exterior, you felt your stomach jolt with butterflies.

‘’ Has it at least gotten better since I got here? ‘’

You considered it while looking around the room. You didn’t like the people your friend had brought, the ones she claimed wanted to get to know you better, so they begged to come with.

‘’ Yeah, I guess so, ‘’ you finally admitted.

That made him satisfied. You saw him smirk to himself before leaning back, his shoulders slouched and he looked a lot less tense. You wondered why he’d been tense at all, maybe he also got nervous when meeting new people. 

‘’ I’m Hyunjin. ‘’

‘’ I’m y/n, ‘’ you quietly answered.

A tap on your shoulder shifted your attention away from the stranger. You saw one of Liz’s friends looking down at you.

‘’ I’m leaving now, ‘’ she swayed from side to side, almost tipping over from the alcohol coursing through her veins, ‘’ happy birthday. ‘’

You gave her a small smile and waved her off; due to not feeling close with her, you didn’t mind that she was leaving early, besides, she’d looked bored the whole night like she couldn’t wait to leave anyways.

Another one of Liz’s friends must’ve overheard the conversation, because she quickly butted in as soon as the other one left. She told you that she and another girl were leaving, taking two of the guys with them and only leaving Liz and the last guy, except for the one glued to your side of course.

The night dragged on, but you were starting to enjoy yourself a lot more as it progressed into something more calm and relaxed. The rain outside continued to patter against the window, increasing in heaviness the later it got.

Around 2 am, everyone’s attention was drawn to Liz yawning dramatically. She stretched her arms up and then stood, the small smirk she gave the guy didn’t go unnoticed by you.

‘’ I think it’s time for me to go home now. But I had a good time, and I hope you did too, y/n. ‘’

She came over and pulled you into a hug, drunkenly mumbling in your ear, ‘’ I love you, happy birthday. ‘’

‘’ Are you sure you’ll be okay? ‘’

Gesturing at the guy, she winked. He had started standing up and getting ready to leave too, you weren’t that surprised, they looked like they’d been hitting it off.

‘’ Definitely, he’s taking me home. You should let him do the same with you, ‘’ Hyunjin blushed as she nudged her head towards his direction. 

You didn’t get a chance to reply. She turned and threw her arm around the guy. You couldn’t help pouting slightly as you watched them go, knowing that you were alone with Hyunjin now; it was bound to get a little awkward when you’d try to get home and also gently reject him.

As if he could read your mind, he stood up too and started reaching for his jacket. He handed you yours and the two of you made it to the entrance. It was pouring outside now, so loudly that you could barely hear his voice.

‘’ Do you live close by? ‘’

You sighed, contemplating how on earth you’d get home. ‘’ No, I took a taxi here. ‘’

‘’ I don’t think you’ll get home. There’s a storm coming, ‘’ he said gently, sounding sorry for you.

You felt sorry for you too, but mostly stupid. How could you have missed the weather report on today of all days? That should’ve been the first thing you checked in the morning. Mentally preparing yourself, you turned to him and began with a small smile, which undoubtedly came out more like a grimace. 

‘’ Listen, I’ve had a really good time but I should go. Thank you for keeping me company. ‘’

He frowned and almost looked at you like you were stupid, which made you shy away from his gaze; you felt like sinking into your spot. 

‘’ But how though? ‘’

‘’ What? ‘’

‘’ How are you going to get home? ‘’

‘’ Oh, well I guess I’ll just stay at a motel or something. ‘’

‘’ No way. They’re quite expensive around here, only creeps stay in those and most of them are closed or have shut down in this area. ‘’

‘’ None in a walking distance? ‘’ you disappointedly asked, hoping there was at least one you could stay at.

‘’ None. ‘’

Silence filled the air between you two. During it, you were pretty certain that you were thinking of the same thing that he was. Your eyes met and he immediately looked away, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly.

‘’ You could…you could stay at my place. I only live five minutes away.‘’

‘’ By car? ‘’ you shamelessly asked, looking for a way out.

‘’ By foot. ‘’

‘’ Oh. ‘’

He quickly said, ‘’ you don’t have to. I just think it’s best, with the weather and everything. ‘’

‘’ Yeah, ‘’ you absentmindedly said, already thinking of all the ways it could go wrong if you came with him. 

He was a complete stranger that you had met for the first time just a few hours ago and you knew nothing about him. But you were also realistically thinking of your choices and what few safe and cheap options you had, or rather didn’t have. You were also a student after all, you couldn’t spend too much.

‘’ Have you decided yet? ‘’

You looked up from the ground and saw he was half-way out of the door. The chilliness from the outside crept in and swooped in some water that splashed on you, it only made you more confident in your choice.

‘’ Yes. I’ll go with you. ‘’

*******

His apartment was actually five minutes away, just like he had said. That gave you some inclination to trust him. 

You briefly traced your fingers over the different books he had in his shelves as he left you alone for a few minutes. You weren’t sure what he was doing, probably not showering since you couldn’t hear it running. But you didn’t question it. You felt too curious to resist snooping around in his apartment. 

After taking another lap around, you sat down on the couch. What you had gathered was that he was a very clean and organized person. Despite being a high-schooler like you, there were no signs of dirty laundry, stains on the white carpet or even a speck of dust.

When he came back, you could see from afar that he was holding something in his hands, it looked like one of those masks that you could buy at the Halloween stores. While making his way over to you, he dimmed the lights and then sat down very close, so close that your knees were touching.

‘’ Do you like it? ‘’

Your cheeks burned hot. ‘’ Did you…see me? ‘’

‘’ Yes, it’s not a big apartment you know, ‘’ he laughed heartily, you swooned quietly at his smile. He had a little bit of a golden retriever type of personality, it was very comforting.

A question that had entered your mind a while back reappeared and you felt quite intrigued to hear his answer to it.

‘’ Do you live alone? ‘’

‘’ Yeah, since a few years back. It’s nice but expensive. ‘’

You wanted to ask about his parents but there was likely a good reason that he lived alone at such a young age, so you didn’t push it further. You only nodded and gave a half-smile. Yet, your mind couldn’t help spinning with theories - were his parents dead? Was he not close with them? Was he rich? Was this not his apartment?

So caught up in your mind, you didn’t notice when he started leaning into you. You jumped loudly when his hand was gently placed on your thigh.

‘’ Should we go to my room? It’s getting late. ‘’ 

When he saw that your eyes had fallen to his hand, he slid it down to your lap where he intertwined your fingers. You let yourself be pulled up and dragged away, almost in a daze. 

One moment, you were looking around his room with a puzzled expression, the next you were sprawled out on the bed with Hyunjin on top of you; his mouth lowering down to meet yours in passionate kisses that knocked all air out of your lungs.

The rejection you had been preparing before was long gone from your mind.

All you could think of was the slight taste of alcohol on his lips and how he occasionally teased the inside of your mouth with his tongue, sending chills all over you. You obliged silently when he started pulling your clothes off and almost looked at him like a puppy waiting for its treat while watching him get undressed with your widened eyes.

You parted your lips, ready for him to come close to you again. But he surprised you instead by leaving you hanging. He went somewhere in the apartment and came back holding the same mask he had brought to the living room.

‘’ What’s that for? ‘’

He stirred in place, his back muscles flexing in tension. Then he turned and the smile was back.

‘’ I’ve heard that some girls like when guys wear masks, ‘’ he shrugged, ‘’ it’s not Halloween but we’re only seven months away, never too early to celebrate. ‘’

You moved back on the bed so you could lie on the pillows. Biting on your lip with a feeling of anxiety that you weren’t quite sure where it came from, you only hummed in response.

‘’ What’s wrong? Do you not want me to use it? ‘’

‘’ No, it’s-, ‘’ you rolled your eyes at yourself, you were being ridiculous, this was not something that needed to be made a big deal out of. ‘’ It’s okay, just hurry back here. ‘’

He flashed you a grin again, went over to the bookshelf and adjusted what looked like a book that had fallen out of place and then came over to you. Immediately, his lips found yours again hungrily, like being away from you for a minute or two had left him starved.

With two fingers he separated your legs and then he looked down at you for approval. You nodded, feeling your breathing hitch and grow heavy in anticipation. He placed himself between and slowly eased in, lowering himself so your foreheads were touching just as you both sighed in pleasure.

You thought you saw something or someone flicker in the background, but the next second your eyes were closed and it slipped out of your mind. Ungodly sounds filled the room instead, drowning out every possible thought you could have.

With every movement he made, euphoria filled you. More and more, until it was about to spill over. Your legs wrapped around his slim waist, hands clawing frantically at the sheets. You gasped, ‘’ I’m- ‘’

He hushed you, ‘’ I know baby. ‘’

You tried to make eye contact with him, only to be met with uncomfortable, empty eyes staring back at you, framed by the mask. It made him look scary, not sexy. He didn’t seem half as sweet now; the golden retriever persona was long gone.

But you couldn’t hold it back any longer, you arched your back as the euphoria spread from head to toe in your body, letting small whimpers slip past your lips with its release. 

Your eyes rolled back and when you fluttered them open again, he was already off of you, half-way across the room and putting his clothes on. 

You felt your stomach sink. He must’ve just viewed you like a hookup that he’d fuck and then just leave there to sleep through the night alone. You grimaced and rolled over on your side, feeling like an idiot and wishing you had stuck to your planned rejection from before.

Then he surprised you.

‘’ We should do this again. I know I’m gonna miss you when you leave.‘’

The smile in his voice was evident, yet you still felt a bit bitter. In pettiness, you just hummed in response and then went on your phone. He left and closed the door not long after.

It was hard to fall asleep that night, something was off, but you had no idea why. Your mother always used to say that you were paranoid whenever you stayed at people’s houses as a kid, but then again, if you felt an energy when you walked in - that person always turned out to be bad some time afterward. 

You just hoped you were wrong about this one. 

*******

The next morning, you didn’t wake up in the most pleasant way. Right before falling asleep, you’d imagined how the morning would turn out; maybe he’d wake you up with breakfast or gently nudge you while smiling down at you lovingly, or he would just leave you to wake up on your own.

But the reality was far from your fantasies. You woke up because you felt like someone was watching you. 

With your heart hammering in your chest, you were scared to move, so you slowly rolled over to the side against the window, squinting before it felt safe enough to open your eyes fully. You rolled out of bed and turned. Your whole body was tense and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

But no one was there. You frowned. Had you had a bad nightmare? No, not that you could remember. 

The feeling hadn’t entirely left when you started making your way towards the door. Outside it, you could hear sounds of pans and something frying. Upon opening it, a smell of bacon hit you.

You moved to the kitchen and saw Hyunjin standing at the stove, back turned to you. He wouldn’t have had the time to run from the room to the kitchen without you hearing his steps.

You tilted your head and clicked your tongue. But maybe he was in your room, watching you sleep right before you woke up. The thought sent chills down your spine. Hyunjin turned and smiled, his puppy-like personality back again like nothing happened. 

It was weird. Was he the type of guy who acted completely different in bed versus out of it? You thought back to the mask and how it didn’t fit the image you were looking at right now. 

‘’ Hey, you woke up just in time. ‘’

You wanted nothing more than to leave and call Liz, even if you felt a bit embarrassed about the whole thing. However, out of politeness, you sat down at the table and returned his smile, shifting awkwardly.

When you saw that he noticed your stiff body language, his smile faded and his eyes almost returned to the way they had looked the night before. Hurriedly you tried to relax.

‘’ This looks amazing, thank you. ‘’

That seemed to ease him up a little. He stopped observing your every move and instead turned his attention to his plate. In the absence of surveillance, you managed to push the food around and only take a few bites to make it look like you’d eaten almost half. You weren’t sure if you could stomach too much right now.

‘’ I, um, ‘’ you began feeling uncertain on how to express yourself, ‘’ I have this thing- my- my parents, they want me to come home early! Otherwise, they will be worried. ‘’

That was the best excuse you could come up with. With bated breath, you waited for his reaction. He put his fork down, almost dramatically slow, which made you nervous. You started glancing at the door in case you needed to make a run for it.

‘’ Okay. I understand, ‘’ he flatly said at last.

You had to stop yourself from sighing in relief loudly, but you accidentally stood up a little too quickly; the chair scraping against the wooden floor, so you practically gave yourself away anyways.

He watched you as you went. Your hands were shaking and it was hard to focus with the harrowing gaze on you as you tied your shoes. 

‘’ Bye, thank you for everything, ‘’ you pressed out and almost bolted out of the door.

‘’ I’ll call you, ‘’ he shouted.

Your blood froze. Call you? You ran out into the street now that he couldn’t see you and waved down an Uber. You only felt safe once you were inside and the vehicle started moving, so that’s when you took out your phone to look at it.

Sure enough, it was as you had feared. He had somehow gotten into your phone while you were asleep and he’d added his number. Panicking, you started flicking through every single app, note and photo you owned, only to find it exactly as you had left it.

You texted Liz a summary of what had happened and asked if she’d be at school the next day. As you arrived home, your phone pinged with an answer from her, and just when you were about to put it back in your pocket, it pinged again.

Your face twisted in horror and disgust - it was him, ‘ baby, I miss you so much already. ‘ Baby? You definitely weren’t close enough for that, besides, he’d given you a lot of mixed signals, constantly switching from one mood to another and then leaving you like that after you had sex.

You ignored it and went inside. There was no doubt in your mind that you weren’t going to leave for the rest of the day. You’d just spend it replaying everything he said or did, over and over again, until you could finally see Liz.

*******

‘’ What a fucking creep! ‘’ Liz squealed.

She had your phone clutched in her hand, staring at the text from Hyunjin which was the cherry on top at the end of your recollection of the night before. Liz was not having any of it. She said that Hyunjin had given her the creeps ever since he walked into the restaurant with the other guys.

Not much was known about him either. He had transferred just a few months ago and was just starting to get to know his class. When you told her the rest, it definitely didn’t help to make Liz see him in a more positive light.

‘’ Don’t you feel like he’s hiding something? ‘’ she asked when you approached the school’s buildings.

People stood in the alleyways of them, smoking and keeping watch for teachers passing by. You hurried your steps a little more when you saw them.

‘’ Maybe…but what? ‘’

Liz was about to respond, but you were caught by surprise; a scream torn from your throat when you were yanked into one of the alleyways. 

You expected to see one of the bullies of the school being pissed that you had taken the route that passed by them to the main building. Instead you were face to face with Hyunjin.

‘’ Hyunjin? What are you doing here? ‘’ you harshly whispered, turning to see if anyone had spotted you.

Liz looked at you questioningly and you gave her a thumbs up, a nervous laugh bubbling up inside. She stood by the entrance of the alleyway instead, out of ear-shot.

‘’ Sorry. I don’t think Liz told you. When she said that I go to ‘ another high school, ‘ she meant the one next to yours. ‘’

‘’ Oh. ‘’

‘’ I just wanted to talk to you, ‘’ his eyes flickered over to Liz, he had that same look on his face that had unsettled you before, you took a step back. 

‘’ Can she leave? ‘’

‘’ Why would she need to leave? ‘’

He leaned his arm on the wall and rested his head against the palm of his hand, lips twitching in barely concealed annoyance.

‘’ Can she? ‘’ he repeated, more forcefully this time.

‘’ No, ‘’ you spat back, equally as forceful even though you were masking your fear.

The corners of his mouth quirked upward, he had noticed; nothing slipped past him.

‘’ We have to talk about us. So I’d just like some privacy. ‘’

Against better judgement, you waved Liz off. He seemed like he wasn’t going to let you off until he’d said whatever he wanted to say. Besides, you weren’t completely alone anyway. If you had to scream, someone would hear you…you hoped.

With his free hand he nudged you toward the wall and switched so it was his right hand leaning against the wall instead as he faced you. The maneuver felt a little controlling or almost territorial; essentially he was caging you in so you couldn’t run away the easiest escape route.

‘’ We should date from now on. ‘’

His golden retriever smile that crinkled his eyes returned, but it felt wrong this time, very wrong. You didn’t feel butterflies in your stomach like the first time he’d shown you it, now all you felt was ice.

‘’ I’m sorry. I don’t know you well enough. ‘’

‘’ You will get to know me when you start dating me, ‘’ he scoffed like he couldn’t believe how stupid you sounded. It reminded you of his reaction to you trying to get home in the rain no matter what.

‘’ I’m not ready to date right now. I wasn’t looking for anything serious. ‘’

His eyes narrowed and he looked away from you, turning to the side just as a laugh of disbelief came out.

‘’ Nothing serious, huh? ‘’ he murmured to himself and took his hand off of the wall, starting to pace back and forth, occasionally throwing you glares. ‘’ So you just go around looking at every guy like that? ‘’

You were stunned and also a little offended. ‘’ Like what? ‘’

‘’ Like a fucking slut! ‘’ he screamed, turning to face you fully now, he got closer and closer; pointing his finger at you accusingly until he’d reached you and his finger poked your upper chest. 

‘’ Don’t deny it. You tried to do the good girl act when really you were feeling sorry for yourself and any guy there would’ve been good enough just to fuck you and make your birthday great again. ‘’

Your mouth opened and then closed again. You weren’t sure what you’d say, even if he stopped his manic rambling to give you the chance to get a word in.

‘’ But you chose me! And I chose you, ‘’ his finger poked into you again as he pushed you against the wall with it harshly, ‘’ Now you’re just trying to run away. ‘’

‘’ No, I- ‘’ you felt tears threatening to fall and cleared your throat in a pitiful attempt to stop them, ‘’ I think you misunderstood. I wasn’t even planning on hooking up with anyone, but I had nowhere to sleep and you seemed really sweet so I changed my mind. ‘’

Now he was the quiet one. You had expected it to calm you, but it only made you more anxious. What was he thinking right now? What was he going to do next? Should you not have argued back at all?

You wished you hadn’t turned Liz away now. Silently you pleaded that she’d come back to check on you; that the clock would go faster and the bell would ring so she would have to come get you. Then she could save you.

Maybe there was still time, you could stall this a little longer.

‘’ I- I don’t want to date you, ‘’ you quietly finished.

A snicker caught your attention. First your head snapped up in curiosity, then your eyes widened like you were a deer caught in headlights.

He came closer to you again, completely forcing you against the wall. In his hand, he held his phone, which he brought up to your face.

‘’ No, ‘’ you breathed out, the first tear falling despite your efforts to stop it.

On his phone was what looked like footage from a hidden camera. It was high up, with a view of the whole room. And in said view, was Hyunjin having sex with you - his face masked up, yours on full display.

‘’ The bookshelf, ‘’ you sighed to yourself, realization hitting you. 

He had been setting up the camera when he pretended like he was putting a book back into place. It had seemed unnatural then, but not enough to raise alarms. It also explained the feeling of being watched, and the mask.

He didn’t bother to hide his smirk of satisfaction when you pieced everything together and looked absolutely defeated. ‘’ Do you remember at the beginning of the year, we got that system where you can search up anyone at the school’s email? ‘’

You already knew where he was going with this. He nodded, as if to respond for you.

‘’ What do you say, should I send this video to everyone at school or will you go out with me? ‘’

You swallowed thickly, feeling the hate in your hot tears. He scooped one up on his thumb and brought it to his lips.

‘’ Your choice, ‘’ he added condescendingly.

‘’ Fine, ‘’ you said, sounding very tired.

‘’ Good, ‘’ he smiled triumphantly, giving you a wink.

There was no way out of this for now. You’d have to go along with his games. 

‘’ I just have to tell Liz. ‘’

‘’ Oh, ‘’ he snapped his fingers. ‘’ She won’t be a problem anymore. ‘’

‘’ What? What do you mean? ‘’

‘’ A few of my friends from my old school are here, just visiting. There are a couple more alleyways except for this one. In particular, one of them is very dark and secluded. It was good that your little friend decided to walk past that one. You know, it’s quite perfect when you want to get rid of things that scream - no one will hear them. ‘’