#they stay in place until all might finds them and takes them to the manger and they have to use the intercom to find inko & mitsuki ooooops

[pjs-everyday]

Maybe the big three in class 1A (Shoto. Bakugou and Izuku) being friends as kids?

lol the kiddos got separated from auntie 😭✌️

☑️ bnha art requests open-ish (im catching up!! hehe) 🤗✨

[nevertheless-moving]

INFODUMP AU continued

(Star Wars AU #22)

Possible Continuations from INFODUMP. I headcanon that exchange taking place about a year before episode II and episode IV

A) Anakin Force Shenanigans

Anakin walks up: “master- who’s this guy?

“You can SEE him/me?”

Obi-Wan urgently cry/yelling at Anakin to either wear a condom with Padme or at least take her to a healer if you’re worried about her pregnancy (seriously healer BEFORE evil sith wtf)

(its been a number of years for Ben so he’s pretty much puzzled out the ‘doing this for padme’ bit)

just before obi-wan fades out anakin panics because ben hasn’t told him how he gets together with padme

yanks him into this timeline and now Old Ben has to deal with Obi-Wan and Anakin freaking out over all the info he just vomited at them AND everything else

B) Brush Off

Obi-Wan practices some good old fashioned repression to mostly convince himself it was all a weird dream

yoda always says in motion, the future is anyway

he mostly puts it out of his head until a year later when Anakin VERY obliquely references having dreams of his mother

“...what kind of dreams, exactly?”

end-up rescuing Shmi shortly after her capture, Obi-Wan’s there to make sure Anakin doesn’t go off the deep end

Council is a little disapproving of their side mission because now Anakin is even more attached/devoted Obi-Wan 

Obi-Wan is a LITTLE freaked out but Shmi being in danger isn’t exactly a hard prediction to make considering they left her on Tatooine but...

almost immediately after they get specially requested to protect Senator Amidala.

things proceed like canon and when Dex says the dart is from Kamino, Obi-Wan has a little panic attack attack

the whole trip to Kamino he’s just thinking pleasenoclonearmy  pleasenoclonearmy  pleasenoawFUCK THAT’S A CLONE ARMY

good news here is when he’s bullshitting his way through the meeting/ inspection he very confidently brings up removing the control chips

at first there’s some hemming and hawing ‘oh you mean the inhibitor chips, are you sure you want them removed we’ve already installed them’

“I DEMAND they be removed- I- can i speak to your manger? Do I need to take my business elsewhere??”

Nala Se is very reluctant, “I was ensured by certain high level parties that the chips were intended to be an important safeguard...”

*Obi-Wan sweating, but all-in at this point* “Well, uh, Master Dooku and Chancellor Palpatine themselves told me they were concerned about the chips being abused by the wrong parties, and sent me to supervise, so,”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were read-in on the project architecture to that extent, well here are our options-”

Obi-Wan still chases to Jango to Genosis because he’s got a mission and ‘this might as well happen’

Still gets captured in that stupid rotating energy field by Dooku 

“What if I told you the senate was now controlled by a dark lord of the sith?”

“...I would say that I would be very interested in any holo-recordings or legal documents you might have to that effect”

“oh?”

“would very much like some sort of proof to bring before a court of law, yeah.”

The rescue attempt actually goes well this time! Anakin is well rested and practically glowing after his week-long all-expense paid vacation at Varykino

They all manage to escape and intercept reinforcement mid-flight

The council is pleased Obi-Wan is safe and not surprised to find Anakin there, but it doesn’t really change their mission as the senate has ordered them to take out the federation army before they can attack...

“The Senate ordered it?”

“Yes, much has happened, while gone you were. Were given to the chancellor, emergency powers. Drafted a military, he has. Generals, the Jedi have been made. Uneasy we are, but serve the senate, we do.”

“Oh kark, the Chancellor ordered it? We DEFINITELY can not invade.” Obi-Wan's starting to have another panic attack, not sure how to get out of the sith trap

Anakin���s a little offended. “Obi-Wan! The Chancellor is a good man; the Jedi must do this, for the good of -”

“PALPATINE’S A SITH LORD”

“what”

C) He tries, ok? (inspired by @ourhitofsucrose )

Very similar to B except for the full year between the ‘vision’ and aotc, Obi-Wan is desperately trying to follow the future’s warnings but failing hysterically

kamino and genosis have both erased from the archives and it doesn’t occur to him to ask dex so he doesn’t even have a direction to go on

tries to find some proof about Palpatine but he is a sneaky bastard

tries to separate palpatine from anakin but he’s like I’M AN ADULT NOW YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO

tentatively brings up Dooku falling ‘in a vision’ to the council because that is something they can check up on- Yoda gets really offended

‘garbage planet on the outer rim’ is not a lot to go on

when he tries to get help searching because he knows that the sith who killed Qui-Gon is still alive and planning to kill his ex-girlfriend even Anakin is like... ‘ok buddy, i think you might be under too much stress, maybe we should visit the healers...”

best he can do for Shmi is leaving her an emergency beacon

A+ success in relationship repair with Anakin tho! through the application of a very awkward hug and a mumbled “you know I love you, right?”

Anakin drags him to the healers immediately, and after a drug test and an overnight stay finally responds by bursting into tears and ugly crying on Obi-Wan’s robes because “YOU’RE A FATHER TO ME BUT I THOUGHT YOU HAATED ME”

Obi-Wan is uncomfortably patting him on the back “Of course I don’t hate you! You’re my padawan! Why would you think that?”

Then when Shmi activates her emergency comm the same night Anakin has his first nightmare about his Mom and they fly to her rescue he’s even more OBI-WAN 5EVER  than canon or scenario B because

“You...checked in on my mom?? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry Anakin, I knew the council wouldn’t approve...”

hugs Anakin again since that is the only piece of advice he can follow from his future self and he just thinks ‘well its a long shot but hopefully this is enough to prevent any lava planet incidents’

it is 

Seriously in this version of events Anakin actively RESISTS being knighted because he was already obsessed with Obi-Wan in canon and now with hugs + verbal affection + protecting Mom proactively he is ALL IN FOR OBI NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN

low-key ruins palpatine’s plans by itself because now when he tries to drive a wedge between them with his bullshit ‘your master doesn’t truly trust you’ Anakin gets huffy and responds with a space powerpoint presentation

i mean other stuff is going to go down once we get to the armies but already the stage is set for him to go running to Obi-Wan the minute he has a nightmare about Padme dying and him responding “J. Force Christ, lets just... go to a healer, fuck’s sake Anakin I hope it doesn’t need to be said but do NOT turn to the darkside over this”

canon would definitely diverge before that point but its also very funny to me to imagine RotS playing out more or less the same but when he gets to Palpatine’s big offer he just goes ‘sorry dad told me no’

[fuck-customers]

Ik this is about customers, some get on my nerves with the random hostility towards me when I'm just trying to help take their order.

Well, I had quit for a bit due to my job, my mother'sbullshit drama, my grandmother(who was really like a mom to me) passing, and a lot of other things. Well, I couldn't find another job and they said since I had no strikes against me, I coulf always come back. I did only to support myself for now, until I find another job.

Yesterday, I said something about not being able to do my dishes and two of the managers were like "We can't help that, your just gonna have to do them between orders." I can't leave my window while orders are needing to be cashed out, I won't know the line moved until someone up front yells about not having someine cashed out. If I tried, and I have, to go after I handled all the orders and we stopped for then. The closest I come is to either turn on the water ot stick my hand in the water to grab a dish and then my headset beeps. I can't do my dishes until someone works in my place or the other person comes.

Another thing that happened that day, one of the mangers in charge of scheduling messed up the schedule. I was SUPPOSED to get off at 10, but my co worker wasn't scheduled to come in until 11. My manager afterwards gonna laugh and say my bad and saying "Can you ever forgive me?" In a joky way. I never get off on my time I'm supposed to. The longest so far I've had to stay is about an hour and 14 minutes(yes I basically timed it, I was to get off at 10, but didn't get to leave until 11:14). I get up at 3 every morning and don't get off until 10 or 11 My legs, my right knee, and feet ache. These floors ain't exactly comfy.

Before I came back and worked morning instead of night, I slipped off of the thing we pour mop water into to drain them(I was standing on it to put new soap in the machine for my dishes) and fell directly on my right knee. My manager at that time didn't say anything, didn't notice until I said something about half an hour later. She didn't seem to care either. This all happened back in September, so for it to be giving me issues here in December and them saying I need a doctors excuse. At one point I had gotten sick and brought up the fact I couldn't smell anything, I tested it by spraying perfume on my wrist, and she said it might be a cold. That's what I had been thinking until I got tested postive. Then suddenly I'm not overreacting anymore. I tried to tell her I couldn't smell anything, that I didn't know for sure if my nose was just clogged up too much or if I lost it and possibly was positive. Another coworker couldn't smell either. She did this thing where she put onions in a cup and had something else in there with it and was breathing it in. I couldn't smell it, but I heard it stuck really bad.

The store I work in doesn't care for their employees(not all of the managers are bad, just some). The customers are just rude in general sometimes. Either snatching stuff out my hand or getting snippy over the intercom or trying to discuss why their stuff is high in price and trying to get me to read it back or change/add something while they see and hear that I'm taking an order and getting mad when I ask them to hold on or the customer on the intercom getting mad because I stopped.

At this point, I'm so done with everything in general. I'd rather make eye contact with a gorilla than to work here any longer, but at this point I don't seem to have a choice.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

General Rated Fics (2) Masterlist

part one

a game of chance (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: Phil worked at Chance and Counters, a board game cafe in North East London. One definite perk of the last few weeks had been the guy who Phil was now delivering a coffee too. Phil had been smitten from the second he stepped through the door which was something he now wished he hadn’t told his friend and manger Nate, so he could have saved himself being teased every time Cute Dan (as Phil had affectionately called him after overhearing someone say his name) came in

all the world’s a stage (ao3) - croissantbleu

Summary: As an openly queer actor and a vocal activist for the community, Dan Howell wasn't exactly surprised when a news outlet contacted him to offer him an interview and his picture on the cover of their Pride edition, but he wasn't quite expecting what this interview, and this reporter, would lead to.

call it fiction (ao3) - writtennotsung

Summary: Dan works in bookstore and Phil comes in with a request that makes Dan want to learn more about him.

Daniel’s Spaniels (ao3) - bathildabagshott

Summary: Dan owns a dog rescue. Phil volunteers to help.

*ft. doggos, cute boys, and coffee*

Forever Home (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Phil’s wanted a dog for as long as he can remember, and now that he and Dan are moving into their new house, it’s the perfect opportunity. But there’s just one problem: Phil’s allergic to dogs.

Going Nuts (ao3) - schnaf

Summary: Dan is going nuts in Manchester. But one midnight trip to the supermarket changes everything.

jump a lil higher (ao3) - snsk

Summery: Dan co-hosts The Breakfast Show. Phil's his new producer. They fall in love, assisted by a bunch of romcom tropes I refuse to apologise for.

Keep It Down (ao3) - INeverHadMyInternetPhase (BirbWatcher)

Summery: Phil wants a quiet life. That's all he's asked for. He doesn't want the new neighbour to blast music at him at 2 in the morning, so if he would kindly stop then that's all Phil needs

Let Me Down Gently (ao3) - ineverhadmyinternetphase

Summary: AU in which Dan is (briefly) a lawyer, until he gets fired and kicked out by his girlfriend. Wandering alone at night looking for a place to stay, he happens across a slightly strange man who introduces himself as Phil and who owns a B&B. Without much choice, Dan takes up the offer to stay there, and quickly grows to have a certain fondness for Phil. There’s only one problem: Phil runs the B&B with his long-term partner Alex.

Middle Of Nowhere (ao3) - det395

Summery: Phil's an apprentice at a library who is drawn to a regular visitor with fluffy hair and a questionable attitude

No One Less Than Perfect (ao3) - CanDanAndPhilNot (enbycalhoun)

Summery: Dan doesn't mind being a single father to his four-year-old Elizabeth, but sometimes he gets lonely. The problem is, he won't settle for anyone who is less than perfect. So maybe, he might just ask Elizabeth's (and maybe his) favorite Daycare worker, Phil on a date.

Of Cats and Dogs (ao3) - GabbyGums

Summery: In which Dan gets roped into taking care of his friend's dog, and Phil somehow gets hold of a cat.

This can only mean chaos.

Operation Cupid (ao3) - nebulous_frog

Summery: Dan and Phil are rival camp counsellors- Dan leads an aesthetic cabin and Phil’s cabin is just a mess of arts and crafts supplies and glitter. Maybe their campers can finally make them see how good they are together through a cunning plan they like to call “Operation Cupid”.

Paying In Naivety - xinyanhowell

Summary: “My friend bet me twenty dollars that I wouldn’t walk up to a random underclassmen and ask them to prom, well now I’m twenty dollars richer and no, that doesn’t invalidate the offer, you’re actually kind of cute.”

Rags and Riches (ao3) - Phandabbydosey

Summery: Spoilt brat Philip Lester is used to having all his problems solved for him, even his problems with the law. Fed up with his attitude and behaviour, Phil’s parents refuse to buy him out of trouble and Phil soon finds himself sentenced to community service, where he comes across a homeless boy with deep brown eyes who might be able to change the way Phil sees the world entirely.

Sea Glass (ao3) - kae_karo

Summery: Phil arrives on the Isle of Man to house-sit at his family's cabin while it's repaired and sold. Except the cabin's in far worse shape than expected, and Phil's got to find somewhere else to stay

stardust trail leading back to you (ao3) - toffeelemon

Summery: Phil is a full time alien conspiracist, a PhD dropout using his extensive Astronomy knowledge to justify his quarter life crisis of running around London all day chasing so-called aliens.

Phil just desperately wants to believe that he is not alone in the universe.

Agent D is the best Men in Black agent that London has ever seen in the last decade, promptly forgotten, dismissed and excluded from human society. He likes it that way. An emotionally constipated galactic agent only has so much room in his heart for a handful of extraterrestrial immigrants.

Until a particularly persistent man keeps disrupting missions, and a permanent fixture by the name of rookie Agent P eventually carves a space into Dee’s lonely existence.

The Wallflower’s Guide to Love (ao3) - Art3misPlayerOne

Summery: Dan is a brilliant but painfully shy and awkward guitar player in a popular local band who prefers to hide from the spotlight. He's content to lose himself in his playing and avoids friendships and emotional attachments, but an accidental run-in with a mystery boy inspires him to reach out to him through anonymous texts.

Too scared that the boy will be disappointed in the real him, Dan doesn't want to reveal his identity and risk losing their surprising connection. When forced to choose between his anonymity and putting his heart on the line, help from an unexpected friendship pushes him far beyond his comfort zone, but will it be too little too late?

TM (ao3) - strawberrysunflower

Summery: He’s the stupidest contestant they’ve ever had on the show, Dan thinks to himself. He bamboozles everyone in a two mile radius whenever he’s let loose on set. He’s hurt himself so often he sends their medical team into absolute panic. He has less ‘problem-solving’ skills and more ‘problem-creating’ skills.

But Dan can’t tear his eyes away as Phil rushes around putting together a plan for his task. Phil Lester is, in Dan’s opinion, a bit of a genius.

Tumble Into His Arms (ao3) - nebulous_frog

Summery: Dan is a swing dancing instructor that teaches a confused and clumsy Phil how to dance. Cue tripping and falling, flirting, and some teasing from some friends.

[nctsjiho]

Lost Boy

warnings: none

era: fall 2018

❀ JiHo and Winwin go on a little mission to find a lost child’s parents

“I don’t know who’s idea it was to leave an 18 year old and an awkward foreigner boy alone in a foreign country, but the idea doesn’t sound the brightest.” JiHo noted while she scanned her surroundings. Winwin took slight offence to the comment and pushed her arm. “Hey! I’m not awkward.” The girl only sent him a smirk before looking around again.

The pair were outside in a less busy area of LA, while their manager went inside a store to grab some essentials. Normally something like that wouldn’t be allowed by the company so the manager had made JiHo and Winwin promise they wouldn’t tell anyone about it. Of course JiHo took advantage of the situation by requesting the manager would buy them some snacks - which also wasn’t allowed during JiHo’s diet, but the manager had to choose between potentially loosing his job, or just getting told of for letting JiHo break her diet. The decision was easily made.

While Winwin and JiHo immersed themselves in a casual conversation, JiHo suddenly felt a tug at her jacket. A little shocked at the unexpected movement, the girl looked down to see a small boy looking up at her. He must have only been around 5 years old, which made JiHo confused about who would let such a young child alone. But by the looks of the boy’s wide and teary eyes, it was definitely a case of a lost child, probably scared out of his mind.

JiHo’s features immediately softened, not wanting her underlying panic and concern for the boy affect the kid. “Hey little guy, what are you doing here alone?” JiHo asked in English and crouched down so she was at eye level with him. The little boy, however, didn’t respond. His lips were slightly trembling and his tears pooled at the corner of his eyes.

Winwin, who felt as shocked to see the lost child, crouched down as well and when the boy faced him he waved. “Hello.” He greeted in Korean, which had JiHo roll her eyes. “You weirdo, he doesn’t understand Korean. We’re in America.” She scolded, hitting her friend’s arm lightly. “You don’t know that.” Winwin retaliated. 

Before JiHo could fire back, the “arguing” friends heard a little giggle from the young boy. They both looked at the boy with smiles growing on their faces. “We sound funny don’t we?” JiHo asked and the young boy nodded, causing JiHo to laugh. She quickly translated to Winwin who found it endearing as well.

“What’s your name?” “Jonas.” The boy started to feel shy and casted his gaze on the floor. “Hi Jonas.” Winwin’s sweet tone completely stole the young boy’s heart as he now confidently smiled at Winwin. “No matter where we are, no matter who it is, everyone always falls in love with you.” JiHo snickered to which the older boy shrugged and then continued to wave at Jonas.

“What happened Jonas? Where are your parents?” The boy looked up at JiHo before explaining that they were with him at the park nearby and then suddenly he couldn’t see them anymore. “Did you cross the street all by yourself?” Jonas nodded as his eyes began to fill with even more tears. “Hey, don’t cry. We’ll go find your parents, but you should never cross the street by yourself okay?” Again the boy nodded and JiHo stood up.

Not really understanding what JiHo had just said, Winwin followed her lead and stood up as well. “What are we doing?” Winwin asked and JiHo’s eyes fell on the store their manager walked into about 5 minutes ago. “We’re going to find Jonas’ parents.” She looked at the small boy who was holding onto her hand and looking around the street, hoping to find his parents.

Winwin felt a bit uneasy, even though he wanted to help the child, their manager had no idea what was happening and had “ordered” them to wait outside and not move until he was back. JiHo noticed her friend’s inner turmoil and groaned. “If I have to I’ll go alone, but I’m not letting a kid go and find his parents alone in the late afternoon.” “But can’t we wait till hyung is back and go together?” Winwin tried to compromise. “We don’t know how long he’s going to be in there, and I don’t know how long his parents have been looking for their son. They must feel devastated.”

JiHo noticed how cold Jonas’ hand was so she took her jacket of and wrapped it around the little boy’s shoulders. “I’ll carry you.” She crouched down and Jonas wrapped his tiny arms around JiHo’s neck as he let her pick him up. “I’m going to look for his parents. You’re free to come or stay here, but I’m going.” JiHo told Winwin and then left in the direction of the park.

Winwin did a double take of the store before running and catching up to JiHo and Jonas. “I’m not letting you go alone.” He mumbled, to which JiHo felt a smile creeping on her lips.

Once they enter the park, JiHo asks Jonas a few questions like, “Where was the last place you saw your parents?” and “Did you see in which direction they left?”. Jonas wasn’t much of a help since he didn’t remember much. Yet JiHo completely understood, the boy lost his parents, he must have been so scared and panicked.

5 minutes went by, but they felt like at least half an hour and still they hadn’t found Jonas’ parents. Noticing how the small boy started to become a bit more restless Winwin came up with an idea. “I’ll carry him and you can run around and ask people if you have seen his parents.” Winwin suggested to which JiHo agreed. She handed over Jonas to Winwin who tried his best to entertain the boy. His English skills were very minimal, but Jonas seemed to prefer him saying things in Korean anyway. Each time he did, it elicited a giggle or a smile.

All Winwin had to do was keep Jonas calm, so JiHo could run around and hopefully find Jonas’ parents as soon as possible. He hated the fact that JiHo was running around alone at 5 pm on a particularly cold day, in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. Her jacket was still wrapped around Jonas, who seemed to appreciate the warmth it provided.

Winwin’s mind was clouded with so many thoughts, what if they didn’t find Jonas’ parents? What if something happened to JiHo? She was only 18 - technically speaking 17, her birthday was in a few months -  in a foreign country, with no supervision. Speaking of supervision, how was their manger going to react? Had he already left the store? Had he noticed him and JiHo weren’t there yet? How-

“Jonas!” “My baby!” Winwin’s head snapped to the direction of the screams. There he saw JiHo and two adults running towards them. “Mommy! Daddy!” The little boy screamed, happy to see his parents again. Quickly, Jonas was scooped out of Winwin’s grasp by the little boy’s father. “Thank you two so much! Oh my God, I was so scared!” The mother cried and pulled JiHo in a hug.

Once the mother stopped crying and had hugged her child, they turned to the two idols. “Thank you again! Thanks for taking care of my little boy.” The father said, trying to calm down his rapidly beating heart. “No worries, your son is such a nice boy.” JiHo explained while she got her jacket handed back. “How could I ever repay you?” JiHo held up her hands explaining that they were okay and didn’t need anything. “Did they take good care of you?” The father asked Jonas who then excitedly started telling about how nice JiHo was and how funny Winwin and JiHo talked to each other. It melted both their hearts and then they waved the family goodbye after getting a last hug from the boy.

“He was cute.” Winwin smiled to which JiHo agreed. She then poked his shoulder twice. “We should head back, oppa isn’t going to be happy-” “YOU TWO!” As if on cue, their manager appears, sweat was dripping of his temples as he approached them. “I told you to wait in front of the store! I could already see my career- no, my whole life flash in front of my eyes!” JiHo and Winwin look at their manager with a sheepish grin. “Why are you here?” Winwin then explained what happened and their manager’s gaze softened.

“Next time, don’t forget your phones in the hotel okay? I was worried sick, but thank God you’re both fine.” The manager patted both idols’ shoulders. “And you did something amazing. I’m happy you found that little boy’s parents. I think I almost can relate to his parents.” JiHo cooed at their manager and looked up at him with big eyes. “Aw~ You care about us like we’re your own children?” JiHo teased which caused Winwin to laugh. “Never mind. Maybe I shouldn’t have come to find you.” He groaned.

“Me?! Why are you looking at me only? What about Winwin?!” JiHo asked offended. “What do you mean, JiHo? Didn’t you say everyone always falls in love with me?” The boy wiggled his brow as he mocked the girl. She rolled her eyes while looking at the manager. “Yeah, I think I prefer Winwin right now. Here you go buddy.” He hands him the snacks he got for him earlier. “What about mine?” The manager laughed. “I stress binge ate your snack while I was looking for you guys.” JiHo stopped in her tracks, mouth fallen open while the other two continue to walk. “That’s so unfair.” JiHo mumbled but quickly rushed to catch up with the others.

“Be careful what you say oppa. I can tell SM about how you left us alone outside-” “Here!” He shoved a bag of snacks into JiHo’s hands which made her smile sweetly. “Have I ever told you, you are my favourite manager?” JiHo beamed while opening the snack. “Shut up and eat.” He grumbled.

---

Side Note: Long overdue Winwin writing, there’s still a few members that I haven’t written for, so I’m slowly getting there. The member’s I haven’t written for, funnily enough, are some of the ones that I want to write for the most, but I’m having a hard time finding the perfect stories for them. Just letting you know, so you know that I love them as much as the other members. I know Haechan and Doyoung appear on this blog the most, (and I might have another Doyoung angst in my drafts) but that isn’t because I like them more, I love all NCT members equally. <3

Also posting 2 days in a row because I felt inspired and I might have given up on an assignment for this

[cygnetofthesea]

The Rest of Forever: Elite Fanfiction

This story is dedicated to the wonderful ladies I met through the tumblr Elite chat. You guys are so lovely and have made the experience all the better. I hope this story is a nice reminder of who Guznadia is at heart. <3

He's warm and content, oh so utterly at peace.

It was an unfamiliar sensation and for a moment he was confused, wondering if he had woken up into another dream. But feeling the heat of her body tucked tightly against him, Guzman knows that by some miracle, this was his reality.

His heart fills with this quiet elation, smiling sleepily while pulling Nadia even closer against him, her back pressing against him. He nuzzles against the loose curls until his lips touch the soft skin of her neck. He inhales deeply and is filled with that familiar lavender scent.

He remembers when he first walked into her parents' fruit shop and was hit with a gust of lavender. He smelled it every time he visited and every time he was around Nadia. He had finally asked her about it one day as he held her in his arms. He was still pining and waiting for her to take their friendship to the next level but he reveled in her touch as always, tucking his face into her neck.

"You smell so good. You always smell so good," he said, his voice coming out in a low rasp. He felt her shiver against him, her arms tightening just slightly. "What is it?"

She started to pull away and his grip around her waist tightened to let her know he wasn't ready to let go yet. She complied and simply pulled her head back to look at him with an amused smile.

"It's lavender. When my parents first opened up the shop they were having problems with insects buzzing around the fruits so I went out and planted a bunch of lavenders around the shop and house. They keep the insects away, protecting the fruits."

He beamed down at her, a flash of little Nadia kneeling on the ground, hands muddy with soil as she planted flowers. "How old were you?"

She scrunched her nose thoughtfully. "Hmmm, about six, I think? I was already getting myself dirty, playing outside so I had no problems planting flowers. I felt like they were my children," she admitted with a blush.

Oh god, he thought, watching her cheeks turn a tantalizing rosy color. He wanted to feel the heat beneath her cheek, he wanted to feel it on his skin. His heart raced and before he could stop himself, he let his fingers brush gently, tentatively, against her heat. He wanted to close his eyes and bask in her touch but he was riveted by her dark eyes looking at him. They were so intense, piercing his soul and he felt so exposed to her. He knew what she was seeing, his heart laid out for hers to take, but it didn't make him afraid. He felt powerful every time she looked at him because it was her gaze that was on him. Somehow, some way, he was able to draw her attention to him enough to keep her eyes on him. Somehow this wonderful, beautiful, special girl was sparing her time and energy for him of all people.

He had so desperately wanted to kiss her then, his lips tingling. He had wanted to simultaneously sip on her languidly and devour her hungrily. That was what she did to him. She calmed him like the sun peeking out from behind stormy clouds and made his blood heat like the storm itself.

He had never felt like this in his entire life and he was addicted. He didn’t need drugs when he had Nadia.

Even now as he gripped her sleeping body against him, slowly kissed up her neck, he couldn't believe she was here. He couldn’t believe she was his as much as he was hers

He feels her shift, waking up at last. "Good morning," he mumbles against her.

He sees her smile, her eyes slowly opening to peer over at him. She looks at him sleepily, her hands finding his own resting on her stomach.

"Good morning."

Her voice is  rough from sleep and it pulls at his heart. For the umpteenth time, he thinks God, she's so beautiful.  

He leans over her as she shifts around to face him and kisses her. He's soft at first, kissing her top lip, then her bottom lip before pulling it with his teeth. He can't help but nibble on the soft fullness, letting himself get lost in the reality that they really are together. Reunited and this time, for good.

"Are you really here?" he asks quietly in between kisses.

She melts against the sheets, pulling him closer atop her. "I should be asking you that," she sighs. "I can't believe you're finally here. With me. In New York."

She kisses him passionately then as though the words woke her up from her own dream. He spreads his hands wide against her bare skin, pressing against the softness.

"Nadia," he breathes, sliding his lips against her jaw, down her neck, pulling her skin as he goes.

Her fingers thread through his short hair as she arches her neck back under his ardent attention. He lifts her higher up on the bed, the headboard knocking against the wall with the movement.

 "Guzman—"

A loud bang on the wall pulls them from their bubble and Lu's voice interrupts them, "Oi! I had to listen to you last night and sleep with headphones on, I'm not putting up with it for breakfast."

Guzman knocks on the wall once. "You can always go out for breakfast, you know," he scolds.

Lu shouts back a retort he couldn’t understand nor cared to.

Nadia shrinks further into the bed in embarrassment even though her door was firmly closed and locked. Guzman's ire at the disruption is eclipsed by the affection that washes over him as he looks down at her. She had covered her face shyly but he could see a hint of her smile.

He settles over her comfortably, taking care not to crush her and resting his elbows on either side of her. His hands travel up her forearm to her hands, pulling them from her face and before he can protest, he attacks her face with kisses.

"Guzman," Nadia squeals, trying to dodge his lips as a peel of laughter escapes her.

She twists her body to move her head out of reach but Guzman switches to kissing her neck and shoulders while tickling her sides. Nadia hikes her leg up to wrap around his hip and uses it to leverage herself on top of him. In a surprising twist, Nadia flips Guzman on his back and holds his wrists prisoner.

He looks at her in astonishment, out of breath, before a slow grin spreads across his face. "Well, I can't complain about this turn of events. I don't mind being at your mercy."

 He swallows as Nadia leans closer to brush her nose against his. "We'll be at Lu's mercy if we don't behave."

His face crumples in displeasure at that. "That's not where I was hoping this was going."

Nadia shakes her head with a giggle, her soft curls brushing against him and he can't help leaning into them, enjoying their soft brushes against his skin. She releases his wrists to rest firmly over him and his hands immediately reach for her, gliding them softly up and down her back.

“I know, my impatient boy, but as long as I'm— we're —living with Lu, we should be mindful of our roommate, no?"

"Ugh, we really need our own place."

Nadia smiles softly at that, caressing his cheek. "That sounds lovely, but let's wait a little bit. I don't want to leave Lu alone when we haven't even been here a whole year."

"Lu will be fine," he replies. "She's pretty resourceful."

"I know that, but I think she's come to appreciate my presence, maybe even needs it," Nadia frowns. "You know she puts on a good brave face, but underneath it all she's still burdened by what happened. She's still scared of being on her own in this brand new place."

Guzman brushes a lock of Nadia's hair behind her ear, his demeanor softening as he looks at her. He knew she was right and even though he wanted nothing more than to have a home with just Nadia, he wasn't going to take this for granted. If being with Nadia, living with her, and starting a life with her at long last meant Lu was going to be a fixture in their lives for a little while, he'd go along with it happily.

"You're right," he agrees softly. "And you’re possibly too kind and thoughtful than anyone deserves. Especially Lu."

Nadia sits up, pulling Guzman up with her. "Maybe you're right," she shrugs, putting on a maxi dress as Guzman woefully looks on. Much as he wants to stay in bed with Nadia, he knows they have to face the day at some point. "But, it's the right thing to do. And against my better judgement, I feel for her."

Guzman walks over to her, slipping on his boxer briefs as he goes. Instinctively, he zips up her dress before she can ask and pulls her close. She smiles in thanks, looking up at him.

"I love you," he says. "So much."

 She leans up to kiss his nose. "I love you."

 "So much?"

 She giggles, nodding. "So much."

 His body relaxes, his heart feeling so full he thinks it just might burst. I love you, I love you, I love you… Every heartbeat is for her and he feels as though he'll never tire of telling her just how much he loves her.

"Now why don't we make the most of this beautiful day together?" she says with excitement, her eyes lighting up. "What do you want to do first? We can pick up breakfast from Pret A Manger and take it to Riverside Park. I go there all the time and I've been dying to show you. It's so beautiful and there's a gorgeous view of the water. And then we can take Citibikes around the area or—oh! We can take the NJ Transit and go to New Jersey if you like." She bites her lower lip thoughtfully and he wants to pull it between his teeth instead but she continues to ramble excitedly. "Actually maybe we'll do the New Jersey trip another time, you haven't even seen New York yet. Maybe we can take the bikes down to Battery Park unless you want to try out the trains—"

He could listen to her excited chatter all day but he was concerned she was going to run out of oxygen soon so he leans in and kisses her just long enough to stun her into silence. He pulls away, smiling in amusement.

"Nadia, it doesn’t matter what we do. We could do it all or none of it today because the important thing is we're here. Together. You and me, we have the rest of our lives to do it all."

Nadia looks up at him, her eyes wide and sparkling. She reaches up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and again, he gets that lovely whiff of lavender from her. He leans into her to inhale more of it, letting it wash over him. Home.  

 "You're right," she says. "You and me. We have the rest of forever together."

[little-chattes]

Ok so I’ve done a complete re-read through and one thing that kept nagging at me was how little Gideon and Harrow’s relationship makes sense given its quite frankly abusive origins. Harrow spends her whole life making Gideon’s a living hell and Gideon just… forgives her. Total and complete forgiveness for an irredeemable girl.

At first I took the sudden shift in their relationship as lazy writing to rush along the end of the story, but that didn't make any sense either. Muir strikes me as an intensely purposeful writer. Then I remembered that Muir is also an intensely Catholic writer and it hit me. Muir isn’t writing a story about a healthy human relationship, oh no, she’s writing a story about Christ’s relationship with The Church… if Christ was a sword toting butch lesbian and The Church was a sardonic bone witch. Call it tender blasphemy. 

Now Gideon’s role as a Christ figure is fairly easy to parse out given that her dad is… God. But for the sake of self indulgence (I have to put my 15 year long flirtation with Christianity to use somehow) I’m going to go through all the parallels anyway. There are a LOT of them.

Let’s start at the very beginning (a very good place to start).

Miraculous Conception

Luke 1:34-38

34 But Mary said to the angel, “How will this be, since I [e]am a virgin?” 35 The angel answered and said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; for that reason also the [f]holy Child will be called the Son of God. 

Gideon is conceived by artificial means when one of God’s own servants (Mercy) delivers a sample of John’s genetic material to Wake, a ‘normal’ human woman who chooses to carry Gideon in her womb. Notably, the sample lives far beyond its point of expected viability, thus making the conception somewhat miraculous (“Only the sample was still active, no idea how considering it was twelve weeks after the fact” HTN 441). 

The Cuckold

Matthew 1:18-25

18 Now the birth of Jesus the [a]Messiah was as follows: when His mother Mary had been [b]betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be pregnant by the Holy Spirit. 19 And her husband Joseph, since he was a righteous man and did not want to disgrace her, planned to [c]send her away secretly. 

Gideon the First decides not to kill his lover, Wake, and releases her out the airlock (AND HE TOOK PITY ON ME! HE TOOK PITY ON ME! HE SAW ME AND HE TOOK PITY ON ME” from Harrow’s vision of Wake’s note, HTN 124) just as Joseph took pity on Mary, his betrothed, by deciding to divorce her quietly instead of making her infidelity public which would condemn her to death by public stoning (Deuteronomy 22:21). Gideon the First knew that Wake was pregnant and didn’t tell John because he thought the baby was his. Similarly, Joseph goes on to raise Jesus as his own son.

The Birth

Luke 2:7

And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a [f]manger, because there was no [g]room for them in the inn.

 Neither baby Jesus nor baby Gideon were given a proper cradle, one being laid to rest in a manger where the animals ate and the other stuffed in a transplant bio-container (GTN 23). 

The Dead Children

16 When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.

King Herod intends to kill the prophesied King of the Jews and instead of finding the specific baby, he just has a bunch of them slaughtered. However, Jesus escapes the slaughter of the innocents by Herod when his parents secret him away to Egypt.

 When the great aunts gas the nursery and kill the 200, Gideon is meant to die along with them but escapes her fate.

Now this event has a completely different biblical connotation for Harrow. 

Firstly, the murder of the 200 children represents Original Sin. In the bible, Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden, and as their descendants, all of humankind is doomed to also bear the weight of that sin from the moment we are born until the day we die. This is a fact that is drilled into Christians as soon as we’re able to understand it, we are born wretched and unworthy sinners, and there’s nothing we can do ourselves to fix that. 

“I have tried to dismantle you, Gideon Nav! The Ninth House poisoned you, we trod you underfoot—I took you to this killing field as my slave—you refuse to die, and you pity me! Strike me down. You’ve won. I’ve lived my whole wretched life at your mercy, yours alone, and God knows I deserve to die at your hand. You are my only friend. I am undone without you.”

Harrow is a multitude, she is 200 children, the entire future of her house. Shes not just one human being,, she’s the whole damn church.

Naz/Nav

he went and lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene.

Although Gideon is not from the Ninth, she is given the Ninth name Nav when she arrives as a baby. Similarly, Jesus is known as Jesus of Nazareth, though that is not where he was born.

The Poor Bondservant

Jesus' role as a servant is emphasized many times in the bible. He was a carpenter's son born in a stable 

Philippians 2:5-8

Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross.

 Gideon is described as being made “a very small bondswoman” (GTN 24)

The Sword

Matthew 10:34

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.

The Wretched Sinner

Harrow is wretched, self loathing, and cruel. 

She is in thrall of the enemy of god, a figure who was once gods most favoured warrior, cast into hell.

She is like the depiction of the sinner who loves the devil

It's important to note that Harrow isn’t a single person, she is a multitude, the entire future of her people condensed into one body. 

The Enemy of God

20 Then I saw an angel coming down from heaven, nholding in his hand the key to othe bottomless pit1 and a great chain. 2 And he seized pthe dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil and Satan, and qbound him for a thousand years, 3 and threw him into othe pit, and shut it and rsealed it over him, so that she might not deceive the nations any longer, until the thousand years were ended. After that he must be released for a little while.

Before the fall, Satan was described as a “guardian cherub” who resided in the garden with God (Ezekiel 28:14) 

(a funny aside, in the bible the devil is known as the great deceiver but in HTN Muir specifies that Alecto is incapable of lying)

A Life of Abuse 

Isaiah 53:3

"He was despised and rejected by mankind,

    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.

Like one from whom people hide their faces

    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem”

They got up, drove him out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff" (Luke 4:28–29).

Gideon lives a life of mockery and is abused by Harrow.

An Unlikely Savior

Despite the fact that Gideon does not fit the expected image of a Cavalier, Harrow chooses Gideon to be her sword and protector.

Despite the many openings Gideon has to make Harrow pay for the pain she caused her, she remains loyal to her

Trust

Harrow realizes that she cannot face the lyctor trials without Gideon, and places her trust in her

Christians are told they must place their trust in jesus in order to reach salvation

Purifying Water

Acts 2:38

Peter replied, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Harrow confesses her sins to Gideon and puts herself at her mercy

Gideon forgives Harrow totally and completely, she baptises her

One Flesh

Mark 10:8

and the two shall become one flesh; so they are no longer two, but one flesh.

“The imagery and symbolism of marriage is applied to Christ and the body of believers known as the church. The church is comprised of those who have trusted in Jesus Christ as their personal Savior and have received eternal life. Christ, the Bridegroom, has sacrificially and lovingly chosen the church to be His bride” (x)

Ephesians 5:25-26

25 gHusbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and hgave himself up for her, 26 that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by ithe washing of water jwith the word,

They take the vow of necro and cav, one flesh one end

Gideon’s forgiveness of Harrow is reaffirmed

Harrow risks her life to stay and fight with Gideon, even if it means her death and thus the destruction of her death. Her love for Gideon is now greater than her love for the Body.

The Sacrifice

John 19:34

Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water.

They will look on the one they have pierced'" (John 19:36–37).

Gideon chooses to die for Harrow, death by piercing

and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

In order to complete the lyctor process, Harrow both physically and spiritually consumes Gideon

Because of Gideon’s sacrifice, Harrow attains eternal life at the right hand of god

The Tomb

The Resurrection

1On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women came to the tomb, bringing the spices they had prepared. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus

Harrow turns her body into a tomb for Gideon, a tomb fashioned after that on the Ninth

Resurrection on the Third Day

Thus it is written, and thus it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead the third day, and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in His name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. Luke 24:46-47 

“So many months had passed: and yet, at the same time, she had only lost Gideon Nav three days ago. It was the morning of the third day in a universe without her cavalier: it was the morning of the third day—and all the back of her brain could say, in exquisite agonies of amazement, was: She is dead. I will never see her again.” (HTN 374)

Just in case you missed this important piece of information, Muir repeats it three times.

Go, and tell them, then, that he that was dead is alive, and lives for evermore, and has the keys of death and the grave,"

[lunnanunna]

Not So Good

DAY6 Extra Member AU

Summary: Parker’s sick, but the boys don’t realize until after the end of their performance.

Warnings: none

Taglist: @hyunmijung​ @galacticstxrdust​ @kimonmars​ @soobinssmile​

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Please let me know what you think.

Parker took a deep breath and looked down at the keys, the whites and blacks were mixing together. Her hearing was muffled too. The only reason she hadn’t messed up playing yet, was because she had it all memorized. Her fingers glided over the keys purely on muscle memory.

She just needed to get through this run of Sweet Chaos and she’d be free to go home and sleep. Sleep off whatever it was that had her in a weird funk. She was definitely sick, but she refused to admit it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Parker saw the flashing red light of the camera signaling that it was on her. She gave a small smile (Luckily she was known for playing somewhat seriously when on music shows, so hopefully no one would notice that she was feeling like crap.)

Parker sang her last part of the song, staring into the camera, then turning to look at the bright lights ahead of her. The lights were giving her a headache and making her sweat. (She was not happy.)

The song came to an end and Parker thanked God that they had decided Wonpil as the ending fairy. Parker didn’t think she would have been able to hide the grimace that appeared as her vision took a quick spin.

Ducking her head, she sluggishly pulled the mic pack off, placing it on her keyboard. As her vision continued to swim, Parker braced herself on the piano.

“-Jin? Soojin?” She looked up, blinking slowly as Jae came into view. Through her hazy mind she could tell that he was worried. He walked up to her, and Parker saw that Sungjin was right behind him.

She gave them both a tight lip smile as she tried to focus on their faces. “Good,” she mumbled as she swayed slightly, cursing herself, because ‘good’ didn’t mean swaying on your feet.

A hand grabbed onto her arm and she turned to find Dowoon. “Soojin, what’s wrong?” he asked her, but Parker winced at the timbre of his voice. It sounded way too loud for her liking, and that was saying a lot.

Parker barely shook her head, sagging slightly into Dowoon’s side. “Not good,” was all she said, seeing as forming actual sentences took too much effort.

“Let's get her off stage,” Sungjin said, and Parker felt more than saw, Dowoon place an arm around her shoulder to steady her as they walked off stage.

“Is she okay?” Parker thought that that might have been Wonpil, but she wasn’t sure. Her main focus right now was to not pass out before she even got off the stage. She didn’t want to worry Myday. They probably were already wondering what was going on.

“Let’s get her sitting down first, then we’ll check,” Sungjin said, voice even, but even in her hazy state, Parker could hear the underlying worry.

“Right,” Dowoon said from next to her, quieter this time. It seemed as though he noticed her discomfort from earlier.

They managed to get her off stage, the drummer basically dragging her, and found an empty chair. Sitting her down, Parker felt someone remove the denim jacket that she was wearing. Then a hand was pressed to her forehead, presumably checking her temperature.

“She’s really hot.” Parker smirked at the statement from Younghyun.

“Jesus, even sick, she’ll still crack jokes,” Jae said, annoyance present in his voice.

“Soo?” Parker turned to Sungjin, cracking her eyes open. (When had she closed them?) The leader was crouched in front of her, his hands on her knees.

“Hmm?” Parker widened her eyes, trying to keep them open, but her lids felt heavy.

“Hyung. There’s an empty room over here. The staff said that we can use it,” Wonpil said from somewhere off to Parker’s right.

“Okay. Hey, Soojin? I’m gonna carry you on my back, okay?” Sungjin announced. Parker nodded, trying to get up to make it easier for him.

“No, Parker. It’s fine. Hyung’s gonna pick you up. Don’t move, okay?” Younghyun told her, rubbing her back.

“Okay,” she mumbled just as Sungjin turned his back to her. Dowoon and Younghyun helped her get on the guitarist’s back, then Parker felt herself being lifted.

“Pillie, which room?” Sungjin asked, then began to move. Parker snuggled into his neck, taking comfort in his familiar scent.

“I hate that she looks so cute right now,” Jae said. Apparently, he thought that Parker was too out of it to hear him. But she did. She lazily smiled into Sungjin’s neck at his words.

“I think she heard you, Jae,” Sungjin chuckled. Parker would have laughed if she could at Jae’s sputtering.

Soon Parker was being helped off Sungjin’s back and placed on a couch. She was laid on her side, a hand running through her hair.

“Soo? We still have a mini interview to do then we have to go up on stage for the end. But you’re gonna stay here, okay? Just rest up,” Sungjin spoke softly.

Parker would have argued if it weren’t for the fact that he was basically lulling her to sleep. So instead of protesting, she hummed in agreement, eyes fluttering shut.

“Will she be okay by herself?” Wonpil asked, as Sungjin’s hand left Parker’s head.

“Yeah. Manger-hyung will make sure that no one walks in. We’ll be back for her once we’re all done,” Sungjin reassured.

“Rest up, Parker,” Dowoon whispered, giving her shoulder a light pat. Sleepily, Parker nodded her head.

“Yeah, we’ll be back before you know it,” Younghyun added.

“And next time, tell us if you’re not feeling well. You literally could have passed out on stage,” Jae huffed.

With her eyes closed, Parker furrowed her brows together and stuck her tongue out in the general area of where she heard his voice. She heard the others chuckle.

Parker’s Masterlist

[onewfantaesy]

so keep in mind i wrote this story in 2014 when i was still in high school lmao so it’s definitely not the best. not the worst thing i’ve ever written, and probably better than some stuff just bc it’s actually finished lmao (but i’m gonna upload it as the 4 separate chapters) but don’t expect too much. anyways it’s called:

His Mother’s Son (1/4)

Taemin's never done anything illegal, so why is he sitting in an interrogation room at the police station staring at a one-way mirror? His name is not his name. His brother is not his brother. His parents are not his parents. And his whole life has just been turned upside down.

Taemin’s been an idol for almost a year now. The 15 year old, for his entire almost-year of fame, has never done anything illegal, so he wracks his brain for why he’s sitting in an interrogation room at the police station. His manager said he had something he needed to do by himself, and Taemin thought it was an interview or something. This is definitely not the type of interview he had in mind.

The room was well lit, but the cold metal table and the one way mirror on the far left wall made him unbelievably frightened. He could only hear his rapid heartbeat in his ears and his shaky breaths. This had to be some sort of mistake, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Lee Taemin?” The door creaked open loudly, and the female cop entered the room.

“Yes?” Taemin tried to appear calm, but his rapid blinking gave him away. He internally cursed himself when the nervous habit decided to show itself.

“I’m Officer Shin. There are some things I need to discuss with you,” she said, and she smiled kindly at Taemin, but it only made him blink even more.

“What - What did I do?” Taemin’s voice shakes, and the room suddenly feels very cold.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Taemin, but there are some things you need to know.” 

Officer Shin took two photos out from the yellow manila folder held in her hands. She lays photos of his parents down on the table, and Taemin feels his throat close up when he realizes they’re mug shots. She speaks their names and asks if they are Taemin’s parents.

“Yes, ma’am,” Taemin says. It’s only then he realize she asked if his parents go by those names. “What do you mean, ‘go by’?”

The officer sighs, putting on a sympathetic gaze that Taemin’s multiple years of idol training and experience can tell is genuine.

“Taemin, they’re not your parents, they’re your kidnappers.”

Taemin feels like the walls are closing in on him, and the air isn’t making its way to Taemin’s lungs and he feels like he’s suffocating. Suddenly, Taemin starts laughing, looking over at the one way mirror before looking back at Officer Shin.

“This is a secret camera, right? This is for a show? Ha ha, very funny.” Taemin’s laughter feels forced, and his hands are shaking. He turns back to the one way mirror, “This isn’t funny anymore, hyung! I wanna go back to the dorm!” Taemin hopes his manager is on the other side of the glass.

“Taemin, this is not a joke, this is very real,” Officer Shin tries to calm him down, and Taemin is running his fingers through his hair in distress.

“W-What about my brother? What about Taesun?” Taemin takes in a shaky breath.

“He isn’t your brother. He was kidnapped as well,” she informs him slowly, not wanting to upset the boy any further.

“What do you mean he’s not my brother? He’s Taesun and I’m Taemin! We’re brothers!” Taemin shouts.

“His name is not Taesun, and your name is not Taemin,” she says calmly.

“My name is Taemin! I’m Lee Taemin! My brother is Lee Taesun! I’m the lead dancer of SHINee! I wasn’t kidnapped!” Taemin feels a pressure build up behind his eyes, and he fights back the urge to cry.

“Please, I want to go home,” Taemin begs the officer; he wants to back to the dorm and pretend this never happened.

“We found out because of SHINee, Taemin. Your real parents saw your picture and they knew it was you. Taemin, you are going to go home, but to different parents, and different brothers,” she put her hands on his shoulders, telling him to calm down.

“What about SHINee? And those are my real parents, and he’s my real brother!” Taemin points at the pictures of the table.

“Your parents will decide whether or not you can continue with SHINee, but right now, we need to take you home,” Officer Shin tells him.

“How do you know these people are really my parents, huh? I don’t remember ever being kidnapped!” Taemin’s voice is shaking and he’s scared.

“This is a picture of you now,” she pulls a recent SHINee photo of him out of her folder and places it on the table, “and this is you from before you were kidnapped.”

“How do you know that’s me? That could be anyone!” Taemin tells her, shaking his head.

“The fingerprints we took when you first came in, we matched them to the ones we had on file of Kim Jaehyun. Now, let’s go get your things,” Officer Shin leads him out of the room, and he sees his manager sitting down with his head in his hands.

“Hyung, hyung please tell me this is a secret camera, please!” Taemin feels the tears roll down his cheeks as he begs his manager.

“I’m so sorry, Taemin, I’m so sorry,” he shakes his head, his face full of guilt, “Let’s go get your stuff, okay?”

“No. No! They’re my parents! He’s my brother! This is a mistake!” Taemin sobs as his manager leads him back to the van, Officer Shin following behind them.

Taemin feels numb as he sits in the back of the van. He stares out the window, watching as the cars pass by and the world around him moves in one big blur. This isn’t happening. This is a bad dream; a nightmare.

“Jaehyun. Jaehyun, we’re here.”

Taemin glares at the officer, telling her, “My name is Taemin.” 

His eyes stay narrow, and she only sighs at him.

“Let’s go pack your things.” 

Taemin follows after her only when his manager talks to him, telling him everything is going to be okay.

When they arrive at SHINee’s dorm, Taemin is annoyed that the officer keeps calling him by that other name, and he runs to Jinki the second he sees the older boy standing in the living room.

“Hyung!” Taemin wraps his arms around the leader, and suddenly it once again feels like his whole world is crumbling around him. “Hyung, tell her my name is Taemin! Tell me this is a joke!” Taemin feels the tears start to spill over his eyes again, and he can tell that Jinki is confused by the slow way the older wraps his arms around him.

“What’s going on?” Jinki asks slowly, and soon the other members are gathered around because of the noise.

“Jaehyun, you need to calm down,” officer Shin tells him, but Taemin only shakes his head.

“My name is Taemin!” he nearly shouts at her, and he can tell his members are getting worried.

She sends his manager to pack his things, and the members ask if Taemin is going to prison or something.

“What did you do?” Kibum asks, his eyes wide as he looks at the youngest clinging to the eldest.

“I didn’t do anything!” Taemin sobs. “And neither did my parents!”

“They are not your real parents,” Officer Shin says in that infuriatingly calm voice.

“Yes they are!” Taemin feels like he can’t breathe, and he feels Jinki sitting down with him on the couch and he wants to wake up from this horrible nightmare.

“You’re right, your parents didn’t do anything. Your kidnappers, however, abducted you and another boy thirteen years ago. Kim Jaehyun went missing twelve years ago when he was two years old, and he was finally found when his parents spotted him on an idol poster.” Officer Shin’s patience was growing thin with the boy.

“Then that makes Kim Jaehyun fourteen years old! I’m fifteen, you have the wrong person!” Taemin argued.

“Your kidnappers changed your birthday, now we’re going to take you to your biological parents for you to meet your family. Say goodbye to your friends, because we’re leaving.” 

She motioned to the manager to get the boy and follow her, and was annoyed when instead the manger came over to her and spoke to her in a hushed voice.

“Has it not occurred to you that his entire life just got turned upside down less than two hours ago? Yelling at him like that is not going to help.” 

The man couldn’t stand to see one of the boy’s he protects be treated so poorly.

“I have given him time to accept what is happening. Now, I suggest you put his things in the van and take us back to the police station so another officer and I can take him to his family, who, might I add, have been waiting for their child to return for twelve years.” She narrows her eyes at the man before turning on her heel and walking down to the parking garage.

When they arrived back at the station, Taemin’s things were moved into the back of a cop car, and Taemin was told Officer Shin and Officer An would take him to his family.

“Hyung?” Taemin looks over at his manager, “Hyung, please don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry, Taemin, but I can’t go.” He hugs the young boy close. “If you need anything at all, you call me, okay?”

Taemin nods, staring at his manager until the station is no longer in sight. He looks out the window his entire trip, the numb feeling in his chest coming back. He pinches his arm, and is depressed when he finds that it does in fact hurt. He was really hoping this was some crazy dream.

“Where’s my brother?” Taemin asks, wondering if Taesun is okay.

“He is with his own family.” Officer Shin sighs, rubbing his head from the headache this case is giving her.

“I wanna talk to him,” Taemin says quietly, hoping they’ll let him call him or something.

“Your family has said you are not allowed any contact,” Shin says in a tight voice, and Taemin narrows his eyes at the back of her head.

“Why not?” Taemin growls, unable to believe that his so called family would not allow him to talk to his own brother.

“Because he is not really your brother, now keep quiet,” Shin snaps, and Taemin goes back to staring out the window.

“He isn’t a prisoner, so I suggest you stop treating him as such,” An tells her, and Taemin smirks at the scolding.

When they pull up in front of a house, and Shin is getting out to remove his bags from the trunk, Taemin doesn’t move; he only continues to stare out the window at the house looming in front of him.

“Please, take me back home,” Taemin chokes out, unable to believe that this is reality.

“You are home,” An says softly, and Taemin looks over at the male officer.

“How can this be home if I don’t even know what street we’re on?” Taemin asks, and the officer sighs.

“Come, we’ll go introduce you to your family.” An holds his hand out, and Taemin puts his shaky one in his, and he’s being pulled out of the car and walking toward the front door.

The door opens revealing a woman who looked almost exactly like Taemin.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Loving the sailors while hating the beach (White Demon’s Love Song, Part 3.)

Series description: A new job was what the reason you found yourself on a lonely roadtrip on the western coast, ending up in the woods of Olympian Peninsula. Yet a sudden car malfuction was what cause your unplanned stay in Forks. To your surprise, there was a lot of sinister things going on under the veil of fog.

Part summary: As you spent another day with the mysterious man who invited you to stay at his place as a sign of his selflessness, you started to notice that Forks really is a strange town. And on top of that, that Jacob might be hiding something.

A/N: NCIS Forks be strong in this chaper, oh boy. 

Tagging: @missdictatorme​

Word count: 4.2 K

Twilight playlist: ✨ Twilight Crackheads ✨

Series masterlist: H E R E

The night fell on Forks slowly, almost as if it was lurking around for some time before covering the streets. For some time, you've been sitting in a super-small cubbyhole named the 'Administrative office'. Administrative up your ass, you barely didn't knock off the brooms you've been sharing the room with. It shouldn't surprise you that you were falling asleep while writing small numbers into the boxes. You've also picked up a few phones - for such a small town, there was a lot of cars just suddenly breaking down. But Jacob sometimes even took small jobs around in the smaller towns around forks - like La Push, Beaver, and Sappho.

It wasn't even nine hours when you were snoozing with your head in your palm because you've simply fallen asleep. Also, it was weird to see Jacob walking around the whole building, checking on the heating - as if he wasn't turning the heating on in such cold. It was summer and the city was still cold as hell. And this mechanic wasn't turning on his heating system? What kind of crazy he was? The man has woken you up after ten minutes, sending you to bed - yet you didn't know that he didn't walk to bed that night. As soon as he heard snoring coming out of the visitor's bedroom, Jacob made sure the door to the small flat were locked before he ran into the woods. It was time to check with the other guys - Jared and Paul, two of his friends from Sam Uley's spent their whole day on the northern route, trying to find out something more about the unwanted visitors of Forks.

At first, the werewolves weren't entirely sure if there was any vampires close at the moment. If it wasn't just some... Re-awakening of the spirit animals. That was until two days ago - now, the whole packs have transformed once again. Every night Jacob had turned into a wolf, he growled sadly when he realized there was someone he hadn't heard before - first, it was Quil alone. The man was confused, as most of them. Both of them were praying for Quil to be the last. But he wasn't - Embry and Seth coming right the night after Quil's turning. Leah was the last to join. In the meantime, Sam's pack turned at once as well. It was just like five years ago.

'Welcome back to the game, chief.' - Seth's happy and joyful voice started to talk inside Jacob's head. As he was getting closer to the manger of the Calawah river, he could hear two other wolves joining him. It was Embry and Seth - rest of the pack got their tasks the last night and went on a watch and tracking the vampire pack. Jake could hear most of the things Quil and Leah told them. - 'We know they are here. We captured the smell...' - The leader mumbled to Seth, running along the river. They weren't sprinting because there wasn't a reason to do so. Quil nor Leah hadn't smelled the rotten tomato stench the whole day, as if the vampires had suddenly disappeared into the thin air.

'Don’t worry, Jake. We'll take all of them down.' - Embry answered from the other side. Dear Lord, Jacob almost didn't notice that Embry is there, even if he knew that he's coming. He could be so quiet at times. - 'I'm silent like death, yeah, suit yourself.' - Embry answered Jake's flow of thoughts, making a few pampering sounds. This was how the wolves were laughing. To some, it could sound almost horrifying, but it made Jacob giggle as well. Giggling, when the boys were in their animal forms was a wild combination of growling and strange throat sounds. - 'Yeah, but admit, it's strange. No stench, no track, we can't find them. It's like playing blind man's buff.'

The vampires seemed to be poking around in the woods as if they were trying to find a blind spot. Maybe they already did find some. But Charlie, when Jacob was calling him earlier, didn't report any missing person. Yet all of them were sure that as soon as the vampires find the smallest cranny in the defense, it will go down. As soon as they smell a chance, it will go down. At last, this half of the pack was on the meeting point. Sam was already sitting there, watching Jacob approaching the estuary of the Bogachiel and Quillayute rivers. - 'Keep it down for a moment, alright, boys?' - Jacob asked Embry and Seth, who were waiting in a respectful distance. Embry was almost always quiet and Seth, even though there was a huge grin on his face, knew better than talking to alphas communicating. - 'I have news from Quil and Leah. They were walking the trail up at Calawah. What about your people?' - There was no greeting needed - the russet wolf simply shook his head at the bigger, black one. - 'Nothing. It's like searching for a ghost.'

Jacob had to say, that even if he wasn't in Sam's pack anymore, he liked that Sam kept it simple - no matter what happened, Sam never gave anyone too complex orders. - 'Nothing on our part of the territory as well. We will be trying to search through the North, there's lesser of us. Would your pack take the South?' - Jacob planned on trying to search through the whole Northern region, up to the Ozette Lake. There was a lot of tricky canyons smaller rivers, pounds and the vegetation was thick there as well. There was a suspicion that maybe, this time, this group of vampires was hiding next to a water source. He already had experience with the leeches hiding in the sea, why wouldn't they bivouac in a lake? - 'Sure. I'll send Jared and Brady to Hoh Ox, Lucas, and I will go a bit western closer to Oil city. We'll gather here in the morning and give all the information to Seth so he can tell everything to the morning patrol, okay?' - Without answering the question, Jacob and the rest of his small pack got up, running through the ice-cold waters of the river.

Most of the night, it was quiet and calm - sometimes, when the silence was too long, Seth started to throw in some jokes. Most of them were pretty cringe, but some made Jacob snicker under his breath. It was almost time to regroup and set to the meeting point when the whole pack felt it through Embry's eyes. The fur on the back of his neck stood up, his whole body tensed, and growls unintentionally escaped through his tests. Just as he saw a woman standing on top of one huge cliff, looking down on him, the pack tried to get to Embry's position as soon as possible.

The animal wasn't holding anything back - as soon as it saw the woman, it sprang forward to kill her. But she just leaned her head to her shoulder, furrowing at the sight. It appeared as if she wasn't even taken away by seeing such a huge wolf. Based on the stench, she realized this wasn't just some wolf, but she hadn't even flinched. - 'Embry, don't!' - Jacob cried out just when Embry made his way onto the cliff, trying to take the cold woman down. Yet just when the wolf almost caught her ankle in his mouth, she jumped down while still studying every move the animal made.

She wasn't supposed to attack, no. Her posture was strictly curious, careful - the woman might tease them a bit, see how they react, but she surely wasn't about to strike back. She was a scout, sent there by her pack to study the animals. Sam's pack might've encountered another one. - 'Back off, Embry. She's just playing with you!' - Seth, who realized it as well, called out. - 'He's right. wait for us and then we'll try to chase her down!' - Jacob yelled at his friend and jumped onto the lake's beach, circling at the woman's back. It didn't take too long until Seth slowly walked out of the woods on the other side. The woman was quietly scanning all of them and Jacob's size certainly did surprise her. Embry was huge - but Jacob was even bigger.

'We won't catch her, no matter what we do. She isn't going to attack.' - Seth realized and started analyzing her back. At this, the woman smiled and started to lean her head just like Seth was. The pack was still closing on her, but as soon as she would feel threatened she'll simply run away. - "Interesting." - She mumbled and closed her eyelids a bit. - "We don't wanna hurt you. We won't be attacking you or your packs - we just want free access to the city, that's it." - The woman cried out. A terrifying grin appeared on her face for a second as the thought she might succeed. The deep growling came from everyone's mouth at the same time, giving her exactly the answer she needed. - "So you have chosen death. I'll tell it to the others." - And with that, she disappeared. As if she wasn't there, as if she just disappeared into the thin air. The wolves watched each other. The scent didn't lead them too far into the woods, it was as if the woman was just a dream.

Forks, 9:00 a.m.:

You were sleeping in the bed, safe and sound. Your mouth tasted disgusting, and you had a slight headache - you didn't even want to see your damn hair. Even if you knew it was just a lie, the room felt too warm for a moment. For the first time during your road trip, you weren't feeling cold. Lazily, you searched for your phone and read through the news and such. Then your eyes flought to the clock - oh Lord, Jacob had to open the workshop already, hadn't he? And there you were, laying in the bed, covered in a thick blanket.

Never in your life before, you had dressed as quick as you did that morning. Just when you wanted to run into the bathroom, as you opened door to your room, you heard snoring shaking every piece of pottery. With a straight face, you looked at its source - it was the man himself, somehow puzzled on his small sofa - his hands and one of his leg were laying on the ground, his hair was way messier than yours and also, the blanket was too small for someone like him. Jesus, he must've come back so late, you didn't even want to stop yourself.

As you were tiptoeing around the sofa, you noticed something - his feet. They were covered in soil and needles as if he was walking around in the woods barefooted. What was he doing late, in the woods, and barefooted? Was he searching the best location for a grave? Was he checking out his secret killer case hidden in the woods? With risen eyebrows, you locked yourself in the bathroom. At first, you thought he was just working late. That was it. But the soil on his feet made you insecure. Quickly, you brushed your teeth, combed your hair, and sneaked out of the flat. For a moment, you were thinking about walking to talk to Charlie.

While standing in front of the back door, you were biting on your lower lip and tried to figure out what to do. But in the end, you closed the door again and walked to the 'Administration office' to work on another part of the messy paperwork. Dear Lord, Jacob was bad with bureaucracy. In this, he was honest with you. Sometimes, you couldn't even read what was written down on the paper - so you were re-writing the text and sums on a fresh document while lamenting about his messy handwriting. Jacob came in barely half an hour after you. Yet the man was so quiet he almost gave you a heart attack as he stood in the cubbyhole's doorframe. - "Morning to you too." - The man grinned at you when you finally realized he's standing there and yelled out loud for the God's sake. - "Am I looking that bad?" - The man looked all over his body to see if there was something wrong. He was now looking way better than when you saw him laying on the sofa.

His hair was put into a man bun once more, he changed his clothes and presumably took a quick shower. You didnt know what was hiding under these socks. - "I just... Didn't hear you coming. I was really into reading your 'Volkswagen repair... Re-hair..'. Fuck, I can't read it." - With that, you sighed and tried to figure out the hieroglyphs once again. Jacob grinned at your attempts and drank a sip out of his mug of coffee. Silently, you looked him in the eyes - there were deep, black circles. Well, you weren't surprised. Sleeping on that sofa must've messed with him. Yet even the color in his face seemed to be fading away. - "Man, you have coffee?" - You cried out instead of asking him weird, personal questions. - "Uh, I don't wanna break it down to you... But most people have coffee at home or at work. You want some?"

And he brought you the promised cup - along with a slice of apple pie from Mrs. Peterson. Nothing seemed to be wrong. Jacob was working on his cars, humming most of the songs playing on the radio, while you finished the first few months of that year's paperwork. With an overly concentrated face, you categorized the papers into files, thoroughly writing the months they've containing. That was it for the most part.

Sometimes, when your ass started to hurt, you walked around the workshop, and once, you were so courageous that you took your jacket and walked into the freezing Forks. You never walked too far - but dear Lord, wasn't it cold? The mist wasn't supposed to come out of your mouth in August. It couldn't be more than 46 degrees outside, Jesus Christ. And Tacoma was even more on the North.

You've discovered a few peculiarities on your way. There was a real good looking steak restaurant, a library, and a local high school... Which didn't look like high school at all, in your opinion. For the locals, it was clear as a day you weren't from Forks - mainly because anyone who was from the North wouldn't be shaking because they felt cold. The more courageous ones even stopped you, mostly the older women living in the town just so they could brag about talking to the new girl in town. However, they were respectful and nice, always laughing at your attempts to joke.

"Huh. I was thinking about searching for you. I thought you might've frozen somewhere." - Jacob hummed from under the car he was working on at the moment. It looked like an old minivan. Oh, you'd like seeing me freezing somewhere, might as well get your goal easier, huh? You thought to yourself. You also noticed that the radio was playing the Sea Wolf song (which you've heard at least ten times since you arrived at Forks) and that Jacob knew every word of the song. Well, he couldn't be considered a singer, yet this was slightly against your care of this huge man being a killer. What killer would be singing a love song so blatantly? - "I just met some lady named Karen Newton? She was nice, but I couldn't get out of the conversation, dear Lord." - "Oh, old Mrs. Newton? She's super nosy. What was she asking you about?" - Suddenly, his face appeared from under the car as he was searching for his rug. - "The basics, I guess. Why I'm here, what's my name, how old I am... She seemed very happy when I told her how old I am." - Throughout the small talk, you've taken off your jacket and sat on the 'Administration office's' chair while looking at Jacob drinking a whole cup of super hot coffee. His eating and drinking habits were making you a bit uneasy, but whatever.

"Dear Lord. I'll tell you why is that." - The man sat on his small chair as well, looking back at you. - "She has a son named Mike. And she's trying to find him a girlfriend... Again. Do expect the boy suddenly appearing here soon." - Oh. Okay. So she wasn't just nice... She was trying to figure out if you're good enough for her son. Mrs. Newton didn't seem to be thrilled by your career choice, but her eyes started to shine when you answered her question about having a partner. - 'No, I'm single.' - You told her. That was a misstep. - "But, worry not, even though he's not on my list of favorite people, most people say he's a nice guy." - "Unbelievable!" - A squeal came out of you as you started to laugh from the bottom of your belly. - "I'm here one day and you already think about who I should date. Oh God, that's why I don't like small towns!"

Jacob smiled into his mug. He hadn't seen someone laugh so hard for a long time - and honestly, it was nice to take some time off the vampire-hunting thing to think about stupidities like dating and such. - "I just think that two weeks is a lot of time. This seems like fun." - The man mumbled and climbed back on his small assembly bed. You couldn't understand how the thing could be still standing on its small wheels under his weight, but you weren't wrapping your brain around it too much. - "I also saw a pretty dope steak house like... Five minutes from here." - Okay, this was interesting. His head appeared from below the car once again. - "Do I look like I'm looking for someone to date? No, thank you." - With that, he disappeared again, leaving you to sit there with a subdued expression.

This was straightaway rude. There was the cold, annoyed man once more. And yes, it almost ruined your day. Jacob just flipped at least by 180° in front of you, showing you the fed up man once again. It was the mysterious Bella, wasn't it? Also, who was asking him out on a date? There was a cool-looking restaurant near the workshop and you didn't want to cook all the damn time. Dear Lord, you were in the temptation to spit something about split personality disorder, but you just sipped your coffee to keep your mouth shut. - "All I'm saying is that instead of sitting there the whole time and cooking all the time, we might at least consider take out." - Well, you were firing in the same tone as he was. Under the car, he muttered out a few curse words. The man realized he might go too harsh after you.

It was just... It sounded like a date proposition, to be honest. And there was a lot of going on for Jacob at the moment - the stress of shifting again, a vampire hunt... And to be honest, he still didn't get over what happened with Bella - so even though you didn't have any idea about who the hell she was, you were right in this. - "Sure. Take out sounds good." - Jacob told you when you were sitting in your cubbyhole once again, continuing to do your job.

The rest of the day was more or less quiet and calm - Jacob finished the minivan and started to poke around with your Beetle, at least until an old man came for the car. As you got to know when he introduced himself, this was Mr. Newton and Karen's husband. When he realized who you were, he started to apologize for his wife and the bunch of super-weird and awkward questions. He promised you that in any case, his son won't be asking you out just because Karen liked you. No way in hell.

It was that evening when Jacob finished half of the first step with your car - he cleaned most of the inside, mainly around the engine, and started to make a specific list. Said list was meaningless to you since you didn't know jack shit about cars. But Jacob seemed to know what he was doing, so you just continued with doing what you were doing. When the Sea Wolf were playing for the seventh time, that day alone, you were already sure about every word in the chorus. You were singing it along with Jacob.

When it got late, it was time for you to perform a subtle observation of Jacob's behavior. Around the same time as the previous evening, you pretended that you're sleepy as hell - and told him you're going to bed. And since you got to the bed, after a proper hot shower, it was the waiting game from that point on. You've been pretending that you're sleeping and you did so for such a long time that you almost fell asleep for real. But creaking of the floor made you aware that he ended his work in the shop. For a moment, it seemed that he's listening if you're sleeping. After a few pretty convincing snores, you've heard the door creaking again and the door to the small flat locking. With your breath hitched, you tiptoed to the window, leaned your thighs into the warm hearing, and looked from the window - you've heard him locking the garage, so the only possible exit was right under your window.

And he soon came out - he was half-naked, dressed in some torn pants, barefoot again, looking around as if he was making sure that there's no-one who would be watching him. There was a small moment where your breath hitched completely. What in the world was Jacob doing there, without a t-shirt when it was still just 46 degrees there? Quickly, he ran to the woods - and he didn't come out for the whole half an hour you've been looking at the exact spot where he disappeared.

Your throat got swollen as you climbed under the blanket again. Sure, you had the suspicion he might hurt you at some point, but you knew that the fear is irrational for the most part. You've been just freaked out by large dudes since... That happened. This was making you feel very uneasy and unsafe. Who would disappear in the woods dressed like that when it was so damn cold? How long was he just walking around? Or what was he doing in there?

Could he be a killer of sorts? Was this man dangerous? Did he hurt someone before? Bullocks, you stopped yourself. Charlie seemed to be fond of the man. And he was the crown cop of Forks. No way in hell police chief would be in on this as well... Or would he? The terror was making your sleep very bad. You were waking up every half an hour because you had pretty vivid, intense nightmares.

It was at around three in the morning, you've been up for some time, when you heard Jacob walking into the flat, locking the door behind him. He was... Limbing? It sounded as if he had trouble walking straight - he knocked something over on his way to the sofa. When he crashed there, a loud sound made you aware he did so, you heard him whine for a while before he got up again - presumably to put some clothes on. Then, after some time, you heard his body falling onto the small sofa once more. With closed eyes, you've been listening to the whole process and the silence after. After another hour of laying in the bed, not letting out a single sound, you carefully got up. Deep snoring was residing through the few rooms Jacob had in his flat. You've opened up the door carefully, making sure it won't creak and stuck your head out. With a furrow, your gaze scanned the sleeping man.

Again, his hair was let down, the blanket was too small for him and his whole feet were covered in the soil. Did he think you won't notice? As you closed the door, you sighed against your will. There has been something going on in Forks - and Jacob was heavily involved in this. You decided to observe him for at least two days, to make sure he does this regularly and then... What will you do then? As you laid under the blanket again, your legs got cold and you finally realized what you had to do.

You had to follow him and see what was going on.

[helpinghanikan]

And they were quarantined

Marvel (and Matt Murdock) x Reader

Sum: Oh my God, they were quarantined. 

AN: Guess whose school is shut down! 

Steve Rogers:

Steve has already gone through the ringer of blood tests and experiments. Nothing was found in the forties, nothing was found when he awoke years later, and there was nothing found now. Instead it was business as usual for him.

Laying back against the couch and staring at the TV in mostly confusion. A few times sitting forward, and then leaning back. He probably wasn’t even aware that he was doing it. It was like watching someone on a rocking chair; absentmindedly going back and forth, not realizing that his old lady was waiting for him to notice her.

“Most people don’t know how to react to this.” You finally say, getting bored of watching him go back and forth.

It’s a manner of habit that you hand him a drink before taking up the couch seat next to him. He’s barely finished his first sip when your legs take their natural place across his lap. Strong hands massaging your calves, a similar habit your delivery of the drink.

“’Most’?” Steve says with almost a laugh. “Who do you know that can react to this?”

He chuckles at the look you give him. But his hands do press a little harder into your leg.

“It was mainly Mom who was doing the panicking. She wouldn’t let me outside unless she was with me when I was little.” He says this while switching focus between TV and your legs. “She would hold my hand tight where-ever we went. I’m pretty sure the first time she had let go was when there was just too many groceries.”

You were still listening, you swear. But the work his hands did caused reactions out of your control. His hands had found their way up your pant legs. Squeezing and pressing almost randomly from the back of your knees down to the soles. A few times his dull nails could scratch and drag down and up your skin.

There was no way Steve had ever bothered the learn how to properly message someone. With his regular struggles with technology there was slim chance he had ever googled it. This entire affair, to him, was on the same level of petting a cat. Until you showed any displeasure he’d keep doing what he’s doing.

“Isn’t the point of social distancing is to be away from eachother?” You ask from somewhere in your comfy place.

He smiles fondly, both hands sliding up your calf. “She didn’t see that as the issue. She was just like everyone’s mom. So long as I was holding onto to something she trusted I was safe in her mind. She made Bucky hold my hand when we were really little when going outside.”

“Aww…” You say, “Lil’ baby Bucky holding Lil’ baby Steve-y’s hand.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” He says with another chuckle.

There would come a point when Steve would have to get back out there. When that point comes you’d be left alone for a long while. For now, though, you focused his dull nails. And that you finally had to time to introduce him to google.

0-0-0

Tony Stark:

It didn’t matter if you had experience or not, this was an all hands-on deck situation. Afterall, it didn’t take a genius businessman to yell at some floor managers.

Tony had only appointed three people to speak on his behalf; You, Happy and Pepper. As usual Pepper took point as the media woman and boss of the operation. Leaving you and Happy to be the mouth pieces: using the tablets to pop in the mangers offices.

“No, Mr. Stark isn’t here, I’m here. And I’m telling you to start making these now.” Happy was getting into the role of designated yell-er pretty well. Almost smiling although he was supposed to be serious.

“Don’t let them try and explain things. You already know,” Pepper leaned over your shoulder before you had the chance to call. Playing the part of your coach in this confidence game.

“But I don’t know,” You almost whisper, already proving this job might not be for you.

“So you just pretend like you do. Be firm, don’t let him argue, you got this.” Pepper says.

She slides back to her seat on the couch. Two phones already set to handle the influx of coming questions. She’s been bouncing between the phone, Happy and you for the past hour or so. Only taking a breath when Tony made a call to check in.

This wasn’t the first time you had to step up for Stark industries. Playing the part of assistant, representative and even coffee runner when the need arose. But, even with all that, those a little below Tony still didn’t see you as anything more than Mr. Stark’s arm candy.

Before this was just an assumption you had. Seeing how the faces of these men and women change when your face appears on screen confirms it.

The first supervisor you reached actually rolled her eyes at you. You hadn’t even given the order to start on the ventilators, you had only stated your name.

“I know who you are,” She had interrupted you to state this.

The confidence from Pepper and Tony had seeped into your very being at that point. Whether it was because this bitch had taken an attitude or that Pepper was watching, but it all came out at once.

“Then you know who I know,” Your spine straightened, and you almost became another person. “I’m speaking on behalf of Anthony Stark, your Boss’s boss, and the manufacturing is going to be changing for a bit. An email was sent this morning regarding the change, have you received it?”

There was a twinge in the Bitch’s eyebrow at your tone. “Yes, we got the email this morning. But it wouldn’t be a sound decision to make these changes-.”

“It’s a good thing that it’s not your decisions, then. Get it started and a memo ready to Ms. Potts when you are all set.” You say, “I’m even going to let you have the last word in. Any comments?”

The floor manager hangs up, but she got the message.

0-0-0

Thor:

It’s selfish to say but you wish Thor had just kept his mouth shut. The second he told the world that, not only was he immune to human diseases, he couldn’t be a carrier either he practically disappeared from that spot.

Now you are just the handler following him around. From soft chairs to hard chairs you watch him donate time and blood to a world that wasn’t his. Still, you would force a valid smile when he came out. Continuing to do so until you were stopped from going inside, at least, not without a white suit and face mask.

“I can’t see your face through these,” He comments from a table. Reaching out to poke at your glasses.

“I can see plenty of you, though.” You say, still annoyed about his constant lack of shirt.

“It’s to see the reactions,” He perks himself out, as if on display. “It’s called-they call it observation. It’s to observe.”

“We won’t be watching you for much longer.” It’s random doctor numb. 4 who says this. Sliding the lab door behind her. “I just need to take the pictures and you’ll both be able to go to your room.”

Ah, yes, the room. A suited-up hospital room you were forced to share. Granted, this was entirely your choice. You’ve been told, several times, that you are more than free to leave. They only needed Thor to test and experiment. But the moment you left the hospital there was no way you’d be let back in.

So you settle: cross your arms and let Doctor numb. 4 take pictures of your man shirtless.

0-0-0

Bucky Barnes:

The carpet is going to wear through from his pacing between the window, the office, and the couch. Sitting or standing only long enough to turn something on before making his way to the next spot. At some point you’ve stopped moving over for him to take his seat. Instead just raising your arm when he got close enough. Allowing the room for him to settle against you. Then immediately raising the same arm to let him go and make his rounds again.

It was an odd situation for him to be in: Not allowed to leave but there was nothing physically (or mentally) stopping him. The only thing keeping him in were the looks you gave from the couch.

Now, Bucky reached the point where he just stared out the window like a house cat.

“If I go for a run, will anyone stop me?” He asks.  

“People over eighty are the highest at risk right now.” You say, not bothering to look up when “just saying. It’s safer for you to stay inside, old man.”

He moves from the window, your arm raises. The couch, an old thing donated from your old roommate, creaked under his weight. If this were a cartoon there’d be dust clouds puffing out from the cushions. Bucky is more likely to catch something from the couch then anything out there.

0-0-0

Natasha Romanoff:

There’s a word for being offended by something but understanding why, it just couldn’t be thought of at the moment.

The world had been close to being on fire several times and Nat has been involved in almost all of them. Now, with an enemy that can’t simply be shot or lied to, Nat’s talents had to be used elsewhere.

“The openings this pandemic made are insane. So many of the bad guys are going to take advantage, or they already are.” Nat has explained over the phone.

“Yeah, I know. I get it. Can you just, you know, be careful?” It was a sappy, predictable thing to ask, but there was comfort in her reaction.

At that point you hadn’t seen or heard from Nat in two weeks. That was nothing new, she was like a cat. You’d go to sleep with her beside you and wake up with a cold space. From there it would be a little search to find some trace of her. Usually coming as a note saying she had to bug out suddenly, or she’d come back after a few minutes bagel or coffee in hand.

The day she left there was a little sticky note saying she had to run. None of those notes ever had a time frame of where she was going or when she was getting back. She wouldn’t reply or contact until it was safe, and that could be actual minutes before she comes through the door.

It’s embarrassing to admit that you had waited with the little burner phone. It would only ever ring for Nat. And it hasn’t done so in almost forever.  

0-0-0

T’challa:

For all of Wakanda’s technology there was no cure for paranoia and loyalty. Instead of your man greeting you off of the plane it was doctors and two of the Dora Milaje in masks.

“It’s just for a few more days, two weeks.” Shuri says from the other side of the glass.

“Two weeks are not ‘a few days’,” You correct.

There really wasn’t anything to this room that you could complain about. It was mostly white, like every hospital room, but there was splashes of color in the blankets and the furniture. A large TV facing a love seat and bookshelf prepared with everything from fiction to medical encyclopedias. All you had to do was ask and you could get anything else you could want or needed. Even with that you sat on the raised hospital bed, legs swinging under the frame.

“Is there anything you can do? A test that can clear her faster?” T’challa speaks to his sister in their mother language.

After spending more then half of your time in Wakanda you were starting to pick up the language. Maybe you could convince someone who didn’t know any of the language that you were fluent. Even after playing with those language apps you were, at best, a conversationalist.

“You’re welcome to go in,” Shuri says. She then pauses and looks back at him. “That was a joke. Don’t go inside.”

T’challa looks back at you through the window. Playing the part of the fearless leader who was only slightly concerned. Leaning forward against the edge of the window to look in at you. The first smile you have seen since getting there came after you gave a little wave.

0-0-0

Pietro Maximoff:

When everything started to get shady Pietro had two choices: spend the time on mission that avoid populated areas. Or slow way down: spend the quarantine as a regular person, at a regular speed. Supposedly, this was in case he was spreading the disease without having any symptoms.

He chosen the second; actually taking the elevator, walking to your joint apartment. His choice to spend the time with you was a gesture greater than flowers.

“It’s better to wake to your face then my snoring sister’s.” He had said, jokingly waving it off. Although he did move around the apartment with more pride.

The first two days of isolation were just as sweet as his gesture. Like an extended date. It began to wear out when having sex became something to do when there was nothing else worth doing. When wearing pajamas, although clean, just made everything feel dirty. And watching him run back and forth in the apartment was like watching a tiny dog with a bad case of the zoomies.

Cracks started to show when the downstairs neighbors had enough and moved on from just banging on the ceiling.

Your neighbor’s knock on the door had prepared you for the basics: Neighbor might be passive aggressive and ask a stupid question then mock you for whatever answer you gave. More likely they were angry and would start shouting the moment your shadow showed under the door.

The man at the door was the opposite of the angry neighbor stereotype. A sluggish looking man whose shirt needed to be ironed and hair was hidden by a hat to avoid having to be brushed. The level of done he was had surpassed anger.

“Please, please stop.” He says when you open the door.

Nothing had prepared you for that. The downstairs apartment had a family, you knew that, but you’d never really talked to them. Usually only banging on the ceiling when Pietro does his zoomies.

“I am so sorry,” You said, knowing that Pietro was watching from somewhere behind you.

Neighbor man barely nodded before turning towards the elevators.

Both you and Pietro didn’t say anything after closing the door. Pietro obviously felt bad based on the shuffling of his feet. You had to feel bad because you hadn’t really tried to stop Pietro from running around.

“Nobody will stop us if we go for a run…” You say, hoping that in the time you say that the lockdown hadn’t gotten stricter.

“That’s going to be more of a walk,” Pietro comments.

Doing nothing all day has become more tiring then it should be. Making you too tired to even consider getting offended or arguing with his comment. “You wanna-, I don’t know. You wanna have sex?”

He shrugs, trying to come off as nonchalant as you seemed to be. But the slight smile he had at your suggestion was still obvious. “Sure, if you want to.”

You roll your eyes at him but are the first to step towards the couch.

0-0-0

Peter Parker:

Gatherings have to be less than ten, two was probably good enough. Especially when one was wearing a mask, and not the mask he usually wears.

“I think the six feet would be enough.” You say, taking the seat at the furthest end of the couch.

“Aunt May asked me to wear it,” Peter takes off the mask at the other end. Sitting perched on the arm of the couch facing you. “I told her we’re not going out anywhere. I think it was just for the walk over here.”

There was a small debate about what exactly the regulations meant when they said, “six feet apart.” Both of you stretching out your legs along the couch until your feet are intertwined. It was decided that, so long as your mouths are six feet apart, you were okay. Your feet didn’t count.

For the past few weeks the closest to affection was a game of footsie. Socked feet lightly kicking back and forth at each other until your legs get twisted together.

At no point was there a conversation about this being your go to activity. At first, it was assumed it would just be a streaming service binge. Then his foot tapped yours and it continued until your entangled. It’s only a few seconds later that you’re breaking the six-foot rule.

0-0-0

Stephen Strange:

It shouldn’t be so surprising that Stephen had gone back into the field. Although he wouldn’t be going back into the operating room he could still help out with the basics.

Although you shouldn’t be surprised it was still annoying. Without being married or living together you weren’t going to see him for a while. Instead bribing him for pictures of the Doctor in scrubs to be sent over text. An over the bra picture of your breasts in exchange for your man in uniform.

You hadn’t asked but he seemed to be happy to be back, even a little bit. Without much communication the best you can do is make a guess. Once or twice his name has been mentioned on the news. He wasn’t interviewed, for obvious reasons, though.

Even that small thing would be nice, though. To hear him and see him in another way then just the phone.

0-0-0

Matt Murdock:

It’s amazing how Matt’s world somehow exists on both ends of the adaptation spectrum. Your smell, or more romantically described, your scent was the easiest to get used to. Especially after that particular perfume mysteriously disappeared. With your scent in his apartment it almost overpowered the downstairs neighbor and their habit of forgetting to take out their garbage.

The hardest thing to get used to was your physical presence. This wasn’t your fault; you were being as quiet as possible. Music played lower through headphones, wearing slippers and socks around the house, even the dishes were washed set down as lightly as possible. It was impossible to avoid messing with Matt’s world, especially at night.

“What’s wrong?” He’d ask, half-alive, whenever you’d try and slide out of bed.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” You’d whisper, leaning over the bed. “Go back to sleep.”

But he couldn’t. Everything at night was amplified; the rats in the street, the neighbors, everything. Especially his girlfriend using the bathroom or getting water in the middle of the night. Or worse, doing work on your laptop. The tapping of the keys was worse than a dripping sink that somehow happened, at the same time, in three different apartments.

Worse than that was when you’d ask if you bothering him. Of course it was annoying, he wouldn’t give up on trying to sleep if it wasn’t annoying. How does it explain why it’s annoying, though?

“No, no you’re fine. Foggy is going to go crazy if I don’t go over this paperwork.” He’d explain away, even if the paperwork was done days ago.

With everything in lock-down Dare Devil had more time to be with his girl. But being with someone and locking yourself in a apartment with someone for unknown amount of time is different.

0-0-0

Carol Danvers:

“This is really…not what I’m used to.” Carol says in the makeup chair, staring at herself in the mirror.

Mr. Makeup had his work cut out for him. How was the Captain Marvel supposed to look for this kind of PSA? Heroic with hair extensions and fan? Or curled locks and red lips with a camera angle the accentuates the muscled figure everyone secretly think about. In the end he went with natural colors, maybe a little dark lines around the eyes.

“Literally everyone of you have said that. Be happy that we aren’t making you do as many as Mr. Steve Rogers.” Ms. PR lady finally puts away her phone, walking around Mr. Makeup and leaning against Carol’s shoulder. “You just have to look into that camera and tell the world that we are in this together. ‘Now is the time for unity, there is enough suffering already.’ Okay?”

Carol looks towards you in one of the chair. Matching your face of ‘really?’.

“I’ll see you out there,” Ms. PR says, then turning towards Mr. Makeup. “Add some wrinkles or something, make her angrier.”

Although looking back to you, your face no longer matched hers. Instead you’re hiding behind your face. Pretending that she couldn’t see you behind the screen nor could hear your laughs.

“This is not something that my abilities are going to help with.” It’s obvious that Carol is starting to sound bitter about the whole thing.

“This pandemic isn’t something you can just shoot.” You say, giving up the phone and moving next to your woman.

The look she gave you was probably the level of threatening Ms. PR was looking for.

“Babe, I know.” Carol says, almost snaps.

Carol was a military woman; good at tactics and fighting. Not the person you would go to first in regards to handling a pandemic. But certainly the first when it comes to making sure people stay in line.

Sliding the phone away you take the rightful place by Carol’s side. “I’m sorry,” You say.

“I know,” she doesn’t move her head as Mr. Makeup is still toying with the foundation. “I’m just going to threaten the entire earth and then go do actual work. No offense to all of this, of course.”

Mr. Makeup just shrugs, “I’m getting paid whether you do a good job or not.” He finishes up, stopping a second to give you a quick look. “Don’t wreck the makeup, please.”

Although you tried to get a quick kiss in, Mr. Make up was ready. Shouting from the other side of the set.

[op-peccatori]

a helping hand (nsfw)| MLQC Victor

A/N: Alright, so. A couple things: I wasn’t sure how...heated I should make it, so I didn’t make it very explicit. Also...I don’t know a word of french. I had it for three years in middle school–about ten years ago lmaoo so...had a little too much fun with the translators

If there are any French speakers/readers reading this...please don’t cry. And if you have any corrections, please dm me! I’ll be happy to make changes XD

Anon...I hope you like it. I had a lot of fun with it. totally not cackling. 

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Reader/Victor 

Rating: 18+

Summary: In a shocking turn of events, a lesson with Victor leads to other, intimate, activities. He’s a lot more talkative than usual except–you don’t understand most of what he’s saying.

(tags under the cut)

Warnings/tags: nsfw, oral sex, nothing too explicit, my amateur English to French online translations, Victor getting the cheesiest lines in the scene

translations at the bottom for those who want ‘em

“La carte, s’il vous plaît,” you say out loud, with as much confidence as you can muster. There’s still a quiver of hesitance in your voice, but Victor lets it go. 

“Qu’est-ce que vous conseillez?” He nods, and you take it as an indication for you to continue. His living room is warm, a place you've grown to be comfortable in with time, and you’re feeling rather unhelpfully cosy as you sit next to him with your little notebook in hand.

“Um, nous...nous voudrions commander maintenant.” You try to refrain from glancing at your notes as he shifts closer, the heat emanating from his body tempting you in small rushes. His hand brushes yours as he reaches for the notebook, slipping it from your grasp with little resistance.“Je ne peux pas manger...” you trail off, unable to remember the word. “...peanuts?” 

Victor seems almost distracted as you turn to stare at him expectantly. His fingers are curling a lock of your hair around them over and over, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re looking at him pleadingly. “Les cacahuètes.” 

You try to ignore the shiver that crawls down your spine at the way his voice works the words, and focus on saying them. “Les cacahuètes.” 

“Hmm.” He seems completely relaxed as he reclines on the sofa, his body angled to face you with his elbow folded on top of the tight back sofa back, his head resting on the palm of his hand. You can’t quite bring yourself to face him as, despite his arguments against the fact, Victor has a very distracting face. Not to mention the fact that he’s been oddly focused on you since you stepped into his house. Even now, he looks at you as if he wants something but doesn't quite know how to say it, or doesn’t want to. You understand, but his reluctance to express himself does frustrate you at times.

With his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a missing tie and the top two buttons of his shirt undone, you also have to make a valiant effort to keep your drool in check. 

“Merci beaucoup,” you say cheerfully, taking the twitch of his mouth for what it is–his attempt at suppressing a smile. “Let’s see...oh! L’addition, s’il vous plaît.” 

“Beau travail." You think it’s unfair that he makes it sound like that, like art that hides away on his tongue and allows you small glimpses to torment you, derailing your entire thought process with sickening ease. 

'I mean...I am allowed to thirst after my own boyfriend...'

“I wish I could go with you,” you grumble, trying to imagine whole days spent listening to Victor speaking French as he feeds you little bites of cake. It would be lethal. 

A good way to go, you think. 

“We can.” He leans until his lips brush over the shell of your ear. “I want to go with you.” 

‘But this is a work-related trip,’ you protest in your head because your lips won’t move to say them. You’re travelling to France for a show, and he’s been a little off since you told him about it. He did agree to teach you a few basic phrases, and you have to admit that he’s a great teacher even when he’s sulking. Your relationship is still new, but you know him well enough to know it’s because of one of the cast members of the show. Kim, one of the singers, hasn’t exactly been shy about his interest in you. He’s backed off since you told him you’re not available, but it seems Victor’s still on edge about it. 

It must still be on his mind because he sighs and rests his forehead on your shoulder. You can’t help but run your hand through his silken strands, the urge to soothe his irrational worries away driving you to act, even if you think he's being a touch melodramatic.

Not that you’ll ever say that out loud. Victor probably knows he’s being irrational, he doesn’t need you to tell him that. You hope.

You also hope he doesn’t feel the kiss you press into his hair, light and sneaky as it is. His hair smells sharp and fresh, and you barely restrain the urge to get another sniff in.

“There are so many places I want to take you,” he mumbles, shifting until his lips settle on the side of your neck. Heat spreads through your body as he leans over you, a hand coming to rest on your other side, half-caging you between his body and the sofa. You hadn't expected him to shift gears this quickly, and the way his lips brush against the spot where your pulse feels stronger doesn't quite match up with all the pouting he's been doing. It does, however, open a door you've been hovering outside of all day.

This is your chance. 

“Victor?” You heart races as you try to remember the right words. This is, as they say, not in the syllabus and you’re not even sure if it’s correct, but you want to try it anyway. 

“Yes?” You feel your breath catch in your throat as he inhales deeply, and his tongue flicks against your warm skin. You’re wearing a scent he’s expressed partiality to in the past, and if the way he hums with contentment is any indication, he still quite likes it. 

“Victor, je peux t’embrasser?” you ask, your cheeks flushing and breath quickening when he pauses. You fight down the embarrassment and focus on his reaction.

Can I kiss you? 

The curl of his lips is obvious as he meets your eyes, and even as he kisses you, you can feel it on your lips. The butterflies in your stomach explode into a tizzy It’s too warm all of a sudden, and your lungs work extra hard as the space between you both lessens. Victor is nearly on top of you as you both sink into each other, deepening the meeting of your mouths as his hands begin to wander along your sides, firm in the way they glide along your clothed skin.

It's not the first time you've kissed, but it feels different. The sweetness of it has solidified into a foundation for the hot desire that slowly spills out of you. There is something needy in the way he clings to you and then pulls away, as if he's unsure of how you'll take it. You pull him closer in response, overwhelmed by your own sudden yearning. 

His thumb rubs slow circles over your knee as his lips glide across your jaw, down the slender slope of your neck. He grows more fervent with each breathless sound that leaves your mouth, and you want to lose yourself in his arms. It is the one place you wouldn’t mind being lost in for the rest of your days, and the thought should terrify you more than it does.

And as his lips slide over to press sweet kisses under your ear, he begins to speak words that seem to have been crafted with the sole purpose of stealing your breath away. “Je sais que je ne trouve pas toujours les mots, et je ne ressens pas toujours les bons sentiments...” His voice is pitched low yet so roughened with emotions you can’t even begin to pick them out; you’re torn between hissing with outrage and moaning with pleasure. “...mais je t’aime fort, et il faut que tu le saches.”

As he teeth scrape against tender skin, as you moan softly, your mind struggles to work through what little you caught of his words. 

‘Je t’aime.’ Your heart pounds as he pushes you down onto your back, and you get a glimpse of the liquid want swimming in his eyes. Your legs part so he can rest between them, and your mind nearly collapses when your shirt is pushed up and his lips travel south through the valley of your breasts, roaming over the soft planes of your stomach. 

“Victor,” you breathe, twisting under the maddening explorations of his mouth. 

“Tu es si belle,” he groans into your waist, as he if can't help it. His hand plays with the hem of your skirt, and you think you might lose your mind if it stays there. A part of you hopes dearly that you can at least retain some of what he’s saying; Victor has a terrible habit of whispering soft things in your ear, and you would appreciate it a lot more if you could actually understand what he says. The way he says them hints at sweet romance, and you can’t help but melt at the dulcet tones of his voice every single time–but you had initially thought he could be making fun of you.

You don’t think he’s making fun of you right now. 

“Victor, please,” you whimper. You cycle between cursing and pleading at the unfairness of this man, at the way his hand dips beneath your skirt but doesn’t go too far, his curious fingers stroking your tender skin gently.

“Mon cœur bat pour toi seul."  With a pounding heart, you watch as he tilts his head up to study you, his eyes ablaze with a hunger that threatens to burn if you stare too long. The slight smirk that twists along his lips can only be called sinful, giving away his intentions before he even ducks under your skirt. 

As his mouth latches on to you through damp cotton, you can’t help the squeak that escapes you when you hear him inhale, a low groan at its heels that borders on obscene. You strain your ears when you realise he’s saying something, but you’re not sure what it is, and he doesn't give you a chance to find out. He wields his tongue like an unholy weapon and slowly works you through a slow descent into madness. What’s left of your sanity decides it–you must devote yourself to learning this language. 

“Je suis...fou amoureux de toi,” he whispers into your skin, so softly you think you might have imagined it. He climbs back up your body, and an eager kiss awaits him at the top.

“I’m not going to give up until I know what every single word means,” you mumble, the dazed vow amusing your boyfriend immensely as he curls around you. The quiet breath of laughter sounds faint but you feel it against your skin.

“You’ll have to be a good student and attend every lesson.” 

“With a professor so handsome? I couldn’t miss a single one.” You turn to press your mouth to the skin above his heart, smiling when he squeezes you tighter.

“Oh, handsome?” He clearly tries to aim for cockiness, but sounds a little too pleased to be convincing in any way. His heart throbs powerfully under your lips, and you slide them over to his clavicle, deeming it your turn to do the tasting. But before you start, you have one final card to play.

“Mhm. Je te trouve très beau,” you say teasingly, with the most charming smile in your arsenal and a saucy wink–before being driven to helpless giggles as he pounces yet again.  

Translations:

Qu’est-ce que vous conseillez?: What do you recommend?

nous voudrions commander maintenant: I want to order

Je ne peux pas manger: I can’t eat

Les cacahuètes: peanuts

Merci beaucoup: thank you very much

L’addition, s’il vous plaît: the bill/check, please

Beau travail: good work

je peux t’embrasser?: can I kiss you?

Je sais que je ne trouve pas toujours les mots, et je ne ressens pas toujours les bons sentiments: I know I don’t always find the words, and I don’t always feel the right feelings

mais je t’aime fort, et il faut que tu le saches: but I love you very much, and you need to know 

Tu es si belle: you’re so beautiful

Mon cœur bat pour toi seul: my heart beats for you alone

Je suis...fou amoureux de toi: I’m madly in love with you

Je te trouve très beau: I think you’re very beautiful/handsome

[sonder-writes]

Day 23: treasure

“Harry! Where’d my bloody treasure chest go?!” Tom yells, after he had finished making a mess of their room from digging everything out of the cupboard.

“Oh, that old thing? I took it to the charity shop, didn’t know you still wanted it,” Harry replies. Tom’s face flushes.

“Harry, I literally kept my soul in there! Why?!” Tom screams, going out to confront Harry. Harry just shrugs, concerned about why Tom has gotten so mad.

“Geez, sorry, I didn’t know you cared about it so much,” Harry takes another bite of his toast, then puts it down and begins looking around for the name of the charity shop he’d brought it to, “by the way, I gave all of the things inside of it to them separately. I didn’t know you had a tiara. It’s kinda cute, honestly.”

“Harry, it’s not a tiara, it’s a diadem. Big difference,” Tom mutters.

Harry thinks about it, “looked like a tiara to me.”

“Well, whatever, I just need it back,” he says, “where did you take it?” Harry tells him and he immediately leaves for the charity shop.

When he arrives, he walks around all of the aisles, looking at all of the antique things, all of the boxes, the clothes, the ornaments, gosh, even the children’s toys. After an hour of searching, he still can’t find any of them, so he goes over to the front desk to ask about it.

“Did you perhaps receive a little treasure chest, a diadem, ah, a locket, a ring, a cup, or maybe even a diary recently?” Tom asks. It has only just hit him that not only did Harry give away his soul, but quite possibly all of his secrets that he kept in his diary. What a brilliant husband he is. No actually, Harry is pretty brilliant, but right now he’s very annoying. At least he didn’t give them Nagini... right?

“I’ll just check,” the lady at the desk calls someone over, and they have a little chat, and then she turns back to Tom, “Alright, we did get some of those the other day, but I think most of them have been sold already. Did you need them for any particular reason?”

Tom considers telling her. If he does, she might be able to tell him who bought them, but then again, he’s only a customer and things like that are confidential. So he gets a better idea, “Oh not really, but can I speak to your manager?”

The lady seems caught off guard, but then she replies smoothly, “of course, I’ll just tell her you’re coming over.”

When Tom is in the manager’s office, he sits down at the visitor’s side of her desk, and puts on his business face.

“Good morning, and what brings you here, Mr...?” begins the manager.

“Mr Riddle,” Tom finishes.

“Right, well I’m the manager, Hermione Granger, and by the looks of you, you don’t look like you’re here for a petty complaint,” says Granger.

“That’s right, Ms Granger. You see, I would like to ask if I could...” he pulls out his wallet, “buy this place.”

“Well, Mr Riddle,” Granger forces a laugh, “that is quite an unexpected request, I have to say. Erm, how much are you willing to pay?”

Tom tries to think of an amount of money that he has, “Well, how about £600,000?” Tom is sure he doesn’t have even that much, but he could just rob a bank and he’d have the money soon enough.

“Erm, yeah, sure. I mean, I don’t really like this job anyway, have it for £10 if you want,” Granger laughs.

“Really? Okay,” Tom hands her a £10 note. She takes it slowly.

“Oh. Right. Well, good luck with the business, see ya!” And she runs out. Tom smiles, and walks back out to where his new employees are. He spots the lady he’d been talking to before, and pulls her aside.

“Now, tell me, who bought those items I asked about before?” Tom asks.

“That’s confidential, sir. Sorry,” says the lady, trying to get back to work.

“I am your manager, I believe I should be able to know,” Tom snaps.

“Please,” the lady laughs, “Hermione Granger is the manager, not you!”

“I just bought this charity shop. I’m the manger,” Tom explains forcefully.

“Oh. Right. Well, I’ll give you list in a second,” the lady says nervously, walking back over to her desk. Tom waits, and then carefully reads the list when it is given to him.

“Thank you very much,” he says, and off he goes to hunt down his soul pieces. First, he looks for his diary, now belonging to a woman named Claire Barlow, and after a bit more research, Tom finds that she lives on Elm Row. Tom immediately departs for the house, and, after taking a moment to just admire the street, knocks on the woman’s door.

After a moment, a lady who must be Claire, opens the door, “uh, hello?”

“Hello, are you Claire Barlow?” Tom asks.

“Yes, I am. Who are you?” Claire asks suspiciously, an eyebrow raised.

“My name is Tom Riddle. I believe you-” but Claire cuts him off.

“Wait a second—Riddle? Is this your diary?” she holds up Tom’s diary, with his name printed on the front.

“Yes, that’s mine. May I have it back?”

“Um, no? I bought it because I thought I could do some great writing about this. I mean, you really poured your soul into this,” Claire smiles at the pages, and Tom looks at her, irritated.

“Quite literally, actually. But anyway, I really need that back now, thanks,” Tom says impatiently, holding out his hand to get it back.

“No! It’s mine! I bought it!” Claire yells.

“Yes, well that’s my private musings in there,” Tom utters.

“Then why did you send it to a charity shop?” Claire says mockingly.

“I didn’t, my husband did. Now give it back!” Tom grabs onto the book, pulling, but Claire is pulling back. They both pull on the diary so hard that any normal book would have split in two, but it doesn’t, because it has a soul inside of it.

“£10 for it? It’s the same price as a charity shop, then,” Tom grunts, pulling harder and harder on the book.

“No way! I’m not selling it!” breaths Claire, tugging at it even more.

“I won’t murder you if you give it back,” Tom stipulates.

“What the hell?!” Claire loosens her grip and Tom yanks it out of her hand before running off, back to his car.

“Thanks!” he calls, and drives off, leaving Claire to stand there, mouth open, looking bewildered.

The next item Tom goes to pick up is his diadem. Someone named Bill Adley owns it, and Tom swiftly drives over. He doesn’t want to go through all of the fuss he had to last time, so luckily he sees the diadem through an open window, and he stealthily creeps through, grabs it, and runs back to his car. Two down, three to go. Tom doesn’t really care about the treasure chest, it doesn’t have a piece of him inside it, so he doesn’t bother finding its whereabouts. Next on the list is the locket. Bought by a man named Samuel White. When Tom arrives, he can’t find any open windows, nor can he even see it, so he has to knock again.

“Hello, I’m Tom Riddle, and I want my locket back,” Tom explains quickly.

“What locket?” Samuel asks, confused about why some random person is at his doorstep demanding he returns ‘their’ things.

“You know, the one you bought from the charity shop,” Tom says.

“Oh, that one! Yeah, it kinda got stolen,” Samuel explains with a shrug.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Tom exclaims, “who stole it?”

“I dunno, don’t ask me- oh, there he is,” Samuel points to a man just leaning on a lamppost down the street. Tom approaches him.

“Give me back my locket,” Tom demands.

“Can’t, sorry, it got taken off me,” says the thief. Tom rolls his eyes.

“By who?” asks Tom.

“Some lady called Dolly Umbrella or somethin’” he says.

“Are you sure?” Tom sighs.

“Yeah. Why, was it worth somethin’?” the man asks eagerly.

“Only my soul,” says Tom casually.

“Oh, so not much then, eh?” the man visibly deflates. Tom glares at him.

“Do shut up,” he growls, mentally adding him to his ‘kill’ list.

Tom looks for people with names similar to ‘Dolly Umbrella’, until he finally finds one living in London, and drives to her house.

“I’m Tom Riddle and you have my locket. Give it back,” Says Tom. He had found the lady just outside the house.

“No way,” she says.

“Yes way,” says Tom, watching the locket around her neck. Tom prepares, and then in one quick, swift movement, he snaps the locket off the woman’s neck, and runs for it, leaving yet another flabbergasted woman.

Next on the agenda is Tom’s ring, now belonging to person named Sam Becker who lives on Bywater Street.

As Tom walks down the road towards Sam’s house, he accidentally mutters out loud, “this... is... very colourful...” as he looks at the pastel-coloured houses. He arrives at Sam’s house, and notices them kneeling in front of a man, holding up a small box with Tom’s ring inside.

“Will you marry me?” Alex asks softly.

“Yes, yes of course!” the man cries, slipping on the ring. Tom marches over and takes the ring off him.

“Congrats, but this is my ring,” and he marches off again.

Lastly, the cup. Turns out some fancy restaurant was looking for antique cups, and so they’d bought Tom’s. He walks inside and orders some food after his long day. It’s a very fancy restaurant, but Tom isn’t planning on staying long, so he just orders some chips and, pointing to his cup on the shelf, asks for water in “that cup”.

Confused, the waitress passes Tom his order, and he quickly eats his chips, finishes all of the water in his cup, pays, and leaves with the cup.

Success at last!

“Harry, I got them all back,” Tom says happily, displaying his soul pieces, “Oh yeah, and I bought the charity shop.”

“You what now?” Harry gapes.

[cptnsantiago]

let me stay here by your side, that would be enough

summary: post 7x06. Jake deals with his own emotions by Amy’s side.

read on ao3

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In any other circumstance Jake would make a note of how cool he looked sliding to Amy on his knees.

Now wasn’t the time however, with the negative pregnancy test on the floor and tears silently falling down her face as it hits them — they’re still not pregnant.

It had been eight months now since they had decided together to start their family — almost a full-term pregnancy’s worth of time. Countless other couples had gone through pregnancy and now had a baby to call their own at this point. Everyone except Jake and Amy.

Their doctor had told them countless times, it takes time. Logistically, both heard him when he spoke and seemingly took in what he was saying. But between their jobs packed schedule as of late and the meticulous detail taken to conceive made it more exhausting than they could possibly muster. It takes time, he had said, you’re both healthy so I’m certain you’ll be pregnant in no time.

They left the doctors that day feeling nothing but confidence. Amy obviously knew they were doing everything right to conceive but to hear it from a medical professional was comforting. Holding his wife now, seated in the middle of their apartment with no clue where to go from there, Jake is convinced that the doctor was lying. Maybe he was some evil villain out to make his and Amy’s life plain difficult and he had bum nards, or God forbid, something was wrong with Amy.

Positivity was supposed to get them through the down times; if one of them was thinking optimistically then that person could get the other out of the stump, and it usually worked. As Amy’s soft cries turn into tired sobs, his heart breaks and he finds himself struggling to find anything positive to say. Everything was negative much like the pregnancy test facing down on the floor.

The early preparation of pre-school waiting lists, new couches and a new car had brought them excitement beyond nothing else. It was so long ago now that Jake couldn’t imagine being a father and now that he was ready, he just wanted to be there, he didn’t want to wait anymore.

Amy had such a profoundly detailed plan and it made no sense why it wasn’t working. She had been working her whole life to have a successful career and a family. It’s only what she deserved — if the smartest, most gorgeous and talented woman in Jake’s (aka the entire) universe couldn’t get pregnant then no one else should be able to.

He knows he’s getting ahead of himself, but they just wanted a baby so bad. Every day that went by, they saw another young family and Jake’s heart would ache longingly after having that with Amy. He saw the way Amy looked at those families, too, and he hated himself for month after month that he couldn’t seem to get her pregnant.

It’s almost impossible not to think about his dad in this moment. Maybe Jake had been right, and he wasn’t built to be a father — maybe he was too broken and that broke his sperm. It took quite a bit of therapy and all the assurance from Amy to convince him otherwise, giving him the confidence to know that he would be a great father but with Amy so discouraged, Jake was struggled to keep these thoughts at bay.

There’s a tear stain on his flannel shirt now. Jake would move the heavens if it meant that this would stop hurting her so bad. He plays with the ends of her ponytail in an extra attempt to soothe her pain, whispering words of comfort as best as he could without his own voice cracking with tears.

Along with marriage comes heartache, he remembers this from a book he’d read on marriage years before when he was nervous about being a bad husband. Only Amy can judge his ability on being a good husband, and almost two years later he thinks he’s done a good job. He only cares for her opinion anyway, except for the occasion when he also cares about Holt’s opinion.

Jake doesn’t know what to do when her tears finally simmer to quiet hiccups, and she looks up at him with the most loving smile. While his heart was broken that the love of his life was crying, the swell of affection that follows is powerful and overwhelming. He kisses her face until she’s giggling, and her tears are a thing of the past again.

Of course, it’s not forgotten. Hours later, after cheering themselves up with a random comedy and cuddles on their new couch, they have quite a long discussion of what would happen next for them. Amy had already booked them another appointment with the doctor to be certain that her egg health and his sperm were up to speed, and in terms of trying, it was hard to decide.

There was no doubt they wanted to continue trying; at the end of the day they really wanted to have a baby but there was no way they could keep up the excessive and tiring method of temperatures, scheduled sex way too early in the morning, and constant anxiety of what if taking a toll on their mental health.

The choice came down to a less intense method of trying; no matter the hardship, it was important that they didn’t give up. The Santiago-Peralta household were not quitters. So, it meant having sex for the enjoyment of it, with few scheduled sessions to increase their chances. One of the most important rules for conception in the binders was no stress. Usually for Amy that meant having every single step planned out and following those steps to an exact accord, but for this instance, they decided that wasn’t the mind frame they should stick with.

By the end of the night with a lot of teamwork, they have a draft for a new binder ready. The Peraltiago Way: Baby Making for the Relaxed Individual. In this version, he insisted that while she rattled off the technical parts of it all, he rewrote it in a less overwhelmingly detailed manner so that they could still follow important steps, but it wasn’t so anal that none of it was enjoyable.

Jake also included his own amazingly kinky section to keep it romantic and exciting. He’d taken inspiration from their honeymoon binder, and he knows Amy will be impressed when she sees how much thicker his sex tab was compared to his.

This way it was a wonderful mix of the Amy way and the Jake way.

The next day they both take a sick day to recover from the emotionally exhausting months they had. He takes her to Bouche Manger, recreating their entire first date, all inclusive of their 2-hour drunk walk in the park and walking past his old apartment before ending back at their home.

There’s no talk of babies for the whole day — they were simply together as husband and wife, as a family.

Walking in the door, his heart warms at Amy’s soft gasp at the new binder, new tabs (her favourite of course) and stacks of printed paper to be put together. Jake had asked Rosa to get this prepared for him and being one of the few who knew details of their struggle over the past few months, she quickly obliged.

Amy is quick to put the binder together, it being a second nature to her, and he knows she loves it from her quicker than usual reading speed. Jake only joins her in reading when she’s placing one of the final pages in, a short foreword he wrote in attempt to ease any stress. It’s short and simple, and he hears Amy sniffle, he wraps his arms around her so that he can comfort her how she needs. Jake knew they were in this as a team — it might take them only one month or another year before they conceived but they were in this together.

Ames,

I’m writing this to remind you of my love for you. I don’t know how this second version of the binder will help us to have a baby, but if it causes you any stress, I urge you to read this as much as you need.

You’re a literal goddess. Your brains and beauty could dictate the entirety of New York and every single person would follow you — I only speak for myself but I’m 98% sure of this.

No matter the outcome of our life together, you bring me so much joy. Whether that means we have one kid, or many, or even no kids and we’re the old people telling the idiot children to get off our lawns. You and me, we’re a family so no matter what our future holds, I love you.

As an ethereal genius once told me, “Life is unpredictable, not everything is in our control but as long as you’re with the right people, you can handle anything.”

[celstese]

Gwen cooper gets her groove back

Author: celstese

Rating: teen

Content warnings: Spoilers,swearing,Bilis Manger

Word count: 1511

description: On her hundredth tenth birthday Gwen Williams falls asleep and wakes up knocking Owen Harper off his bed. Being young again is hard. A time travel fix it fic.

(I might continue this later on but this is all I could come up with before I got writers block.)

Ao3

Gwen cooper was ready to go. For far two long for her liking she had been alone. Sure she still had her children as well as good old Andy who lived next to her with his husband Greg to talk to but for her the past twenty years without Rhys was the loneliest she had been in for a very long time. So when on her hundredth tenth birthday she fell asleep Gwen felt ready to die whenever death felt ready to come for her. Sure she heard the story from Jack about what he had seen all the times he had died but figured nothingness was the worst thing to look forward to. For all she knew even Jack's brain couldn't compered what was waiting but she was ready. What she woke to upon waking was unexpected but welcome . She would later realize she wasn't alone but that's not what she jumped to. As she came to she could hear a familiar voice she couldn't place for a while. Then it hit her like a large lorry had crashed into her old wiry body. 

“Owen Harper you utter bastard! ” she jolted up, eyes wide open, knocking him off his large bed with satin sheets. 

“What was that for?” he rubbed his bare face as he sat upright on the wooden floor. 

“Oh my I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that.” Gwen felt sheepish as she helped him back up. She quickly explained her reaction.  

“It's just given last I checked you died long before I had my hundredth birthday and I feel so young I'm comfortable blaming the rift. Given the fact I don't remember this so  I have to assume it did since I don't remember that day I woke up really old because of you know work.” “Of course, when is it ever something else? It's always the rift. Bloody torchwood.” he was flabbergasted to say the least judging by his face. 

“If I am mistaken there are some events  I won't let repeat themselves if I have any choice. No child's head should be liquefied for the sake of this planet.” 

“You're serious.”

“Why would i lie to you  about something like that ?I know I haven't been here at torchwood that long  at this point .I don't think I can go back to being who I was at this age. This job opens up a world but not all of it is good. I've woken up screaming more than once. I remember feeling guilt about what we did together and what happened next  but when I left  has been gone from my head for decades. Alzimers can be a  real bitch you know. I could have affected the whole universe by hurting you. I wouldn't be able to tell”

Owen as it turned out probably due to me not caring before had a decent amount of money.  He wasn't the richest person in the world but as I recognized that painting on the wall as an original I knew it was more than I realized. The things we notice as we get older can be odd to say the least of them. But I had forgotten long ago he had a car at his apartment building's car park.. It was in a nice shape but It would have gotten him noticed. It was some sports car in a bright red paint job. I turned to him in other bewilderment. His reply was understandable “I'm having trouble finding a buyer. You would think people would want one but nope i've had no luck for 3 years running.”

We ended up getting a taxi instead.

The commute didn't take as long as it should have been during the time of day but at the time I didn't take notice. Later when I heard from Rhys when I got home from work the significance of that morning. It felt to me that night the butterfly effect was a real phenomenon. It felt like I was that butterfly ; it felt daunting to me.

The plass looked the same as it did in my memory they had kept the old look after the explosion to keep continuity. Plus the other idea would have bankrupted the city. I always wondered what happened to the mayor who was in charge just before I joined. I asked Jack once when I was on vacation  for me and Rhys' anniversary but he looked funny. There was nothing in the torchwood records or any other place.It was like she had vanished into thin air. It didn't learn what happened but I had a feeling he was involved somehow. He was involved in lots of things so it wouldn't have surprised me.

When we entered the hub I was surprised but I didn't know last time. Jack and Ianto were having a date in the hub. It was some pretty nice spaghetti. I wouldn't have been able to eat it because I'm allergic to cilantro. Jack looked like  an owl hooting when he heard what I just told him. He could tell I wasn't joking. Owen's face convinced him something had to have happened even if what he was hearing was only partially truthful. Jack didn't blame Gwen for being hesitant to talk. It was best to keep talking about the possible future on the down low until they figured out what caused this and if she could go back. Gwen didn't think she would stay for long even if she returned. Sure her old body worked but they only lasted so long unlike jack. Jack she thought was unlucky and she wanted to help him if she could. This jack didn't really know her. It felt weird. She couldn't even tell Rhys since he didn't know at this point. It was very frustrating.

I knew if I was around long enough things might change. Then it did.  We had found ourselves at a building site where I remembered. Mary was still alive. It was something I did tonight that caused Tosh to meet her. This as far as I knew was not that important in the grand scheme of things. It was important now . Take care of the body then Mary.

It was late at night and the only one at the bar other than Gwen was the bartender. She found that odd. This was not helping her though. She was still feeling the same as she started. Then as she looked to the left by chance she saw the doors start to open. She tensed up. She didn't want to have anything to do with Bilis. He was still bad news whenever he showed up. He sat down to her and smiled. 

“Maybe you are the great equalizer now Gwen cooper. Things  won't be the same anymore most certainly.” Bilis Manger looked all innocent but she  knew better from her own experience he wasn't what he portrayed himself to be. 

“So it was you who did this.”

“Well not exactly. By going back you can not return this isn't a swapping bodies situation it's a you died and your soul as humans say merged with yours from earlier. Nothing is set in stone anymore except some things. The more things change the more things stay the same and all that.”

She jumped at him and before she could land a hit he was gone. Gwen wondered what happened but this was a whole different thing than she had in mind. Was it right to have kids right now with what she knew could come. She didn't know if those days had to happen. Maybe someone would. She just had to find someone who didn't have a reason to lie to her. She didn't know if she could name hers the same names again. The thought of that was very painful to her when she thought about it. That she would never see Anwen again hurt very much. Gwen Williams was Gwen Cooper once more.

What Rhys had told me had hit my conscious mind in the bathroom. Harriet Jones did not resign today. The ramifications were huge. I shivered on the white toilet. This didn't mean she wouldn't resign next week but there was a chance Jack wouldn't come back looking the way he did the time he left us all by ourselves to protect Cardiff. I didn't really have a smartphone anymore so I couldn't really check the news from in here anymore. There was a chance that a man didn't come here this time . That prospect was preferable to me than the alternative.

The coffee machine had stopped working and Ianto was exhausted. Sure his body was fine but his mind was a different story. It was getting to the point that the first part became untrue soon.

Jack let out a loud gasp. He stumbled and out in a suv came Gwen and Ianto. Being buried in cement was not pleasant in the slightest but it wasn't the worst thing he had ever felt in his one hundred plus years.

[jxst-saying]

What about working for the boys and the fans ship her with Luke and they say they are just best friends but end up realizing they love each other in soft rn :(

A/N: This had me fucked up. Also, too in–depth to just do in a one part little drabble, so I wrote it in multiple parts! If you want the next part, just go ahead and request it here! 

(Part Two is now available: here!) (And so is Part Three: right here!) (And so if Part Four: right here!) 

[+masterlist]

@mukeclifford: @Luke5SOS and @y/t/n are SO cute!!!!! they’re totally dating there’s no other explanation that’s it that’s the tweet

@wackycalum: I don’t have a problem with @Luke5SOS and @y/t/n being an item, but lying about it is fucking messed up. Just be honest to your fans. Don’t lie. We’ll find out eventually.

@rAiNbOwAsH: how cliché is it that the social media manager is messing around with @Luke5SOS what a way to keep her job

@bitchluke: honestly people that are hating on @y/t/n for absolutely no reason are just jealous bitches she’s a professional doing her job let her be even if she and @Luke5SOS are dating that’s their business (but i do think they’re fucking cutE)

Y/N. Social media manager to well–known band 5 Seconds of Summer. Currently rumored to be dating Luke Hemmings, aforementioned band’s front–man. Actually, let’s make a correction to that statement: Always rumored to be dating Luke Hemmings, front–man. It probably (read: most definitely) had something (read: everything) to do with the fact that the two of you were always together and always ended up having your picture taken. Together.

Maybe everyone else saw something the two of you couldn’t and didn’t.

There was just something about the way the two of you––clicked. It had been that way since the second you got the job. Somehow, you and Luke always just gravitated toward each other. It was like magnets. You were the north pole; he was the south. In any crowd, you were always the first face that Luke searched for; the first hand he reached for; the first voice he sought out amongst thousands of screaming fans. It all started with just one photo from two years ago. All of you were at the airport. Hundreds of people were scattered around with their suitcases and carry–ons and airplane tickets. Calum, Michael, and Ashton were all in the security line getting patted down by TSA at JFK. They were headed to Europe; you were staying behind in the city for a while. Luke, however, was standing in front of you right before the security checkpoint line with his suitcase at his side and his duffle bag on the ground. Some fan must have seen the two of you and taken the snapshot before uploading it. That was the only thing that made sense. It was probably the look in his eyes that they saw: the one that spoke of a myriad of unsaid words and confessions and admissions of truth, bottled–up emotions, fear, and heartbreak. That one.

You, in your complete naïveté and blindness when it came to the entire situation, chalked it up to just Luke not wanting to leave a close friend behind. Europe was always a special place for the two of you. Midnights in Paris; early mornings in Rome; evenings in London; afternoons in Berlin. There was always something so incredibly romantic about it all––traveling in the late night to another country. Sometimes, it felt like the two of you were running away from it all like some modern–day Romeo and Juliet. But then the light of day would spill through the windows of the airplane and the rough landing of touch down would shake the two of you from whatever reverie you both daydreamed about whenever you had the chance. (Not that either of you would ever dare admit that.)

So, that was that.

You could easily explain that photo. Luke wasn’t too keen on leaving his good friend and social media manager behind in a different country. You had the same look in your eyes for nearly the same reason. And because you weren’t so trusting of four boys having unlimited access to their own social media accounts with absolutely no repercussions whatsoever. That was a gut–wrenching thought, in and of itself. And that was all.

But that photo then went viral and––well––the rumors came shortly after that and stuck. More rumors meant more photos meant a vicious cycle that neither of you could escape from.

And maybe that was why you were, once again, staying behind in NYC while the four boys were on an airplane to Europe. More specifically, that was why you were sitting in your boss’s office with your legs crossed and your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. You knew what this was about; it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together. With new music coming out, the last thing the band––and the executives––needed was the rumors about you and Luke taking center stage instead of the upcoming single. You understood that; really, you did. But that definitely did not mean that you were any keener on sitting in the principal’s office ready for whatever detention they were going to hand out to you.

“Y/N, you have been doing an amazing job as the band’s social media manager. Really, you have.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“That being said, we do need to adjust our course. I am sure that you are aware of the rumors going around about you and Luke Hemmings. All the photos and tweets and mentions. Your Twitter mention activity has increased by 67% as of late. That’s remarkably convenient for the band. Their mentions have increased nearly 85% since the rumors started up again. But, right now, with the single about to be released, it isn’t so convenient. Actually, it’s not convenient at all.”

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realize that––”

Your boss interrupted you with that fake smile on her face. “We’re going to need something from you, Y/N. What we’re going to need,” she stood up and walked around to the opposite side, leaning against the desk with her ankles crossed in front of her. This was the part of being called to the principal’s office that you definitely didn’t like. “What we’re going to need from you is less involvement. Less involvement will mean less photos and less photos will mean less rumors, and all of that put together will mean that news about the upcoming single will be front–page news and not meaningless and contrived photos of you and our front–man.”

Less involvement? How would that even be possible as the social media manager? Her job was to be the definition of involved. If the executives were wanting less involvement, she wouldn’t be able to do her job. She wouldn’t be able to do anything.

“But I’m the social media manger,” you said. “How am I supposed to be less involved?”

She smiled. It was fake, the kind that flight attendants gave you when they were two seconds from taking you off the plane. “Ah, yes. That is another part of the equation. We’re going to be giving you promotion. You’ll be based out of LA. So, pack your bags! You’re headed to the West Coast!”

“A promotion? To what?”

“You’ll get all the information when you get there. The company will pay for your AirB&B until you find a suitable residence. Your plane ticket and conformation e–mail have already been booked and sent to you on company expense. It’s a direct flight from JFK to LAX, so don’t worry about that. And we’ll also take care of your apartment here. Furniture will be sent to you as soon as you find a place to live, and we’ll pay off the rest of your lease.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re getting promoted, Y/N. That’s a big deal. We help out our big fish here, you know.”

“But I’m not a big fish. I’m just a social media manager for 5 Seconds of Summer.” You still weren’t all that sure what was going on. All of this wreaked of some sort of convenient cover–up. With you out of the picture, there were no rumors about the two of you together leaving all the spotlight for the new single and upcoming album and later tour. It was all picture–perfect in the eyes of the executives. Even you could see that.

“Not anymore, you’re not. This’ll be good for you, Y/N. Trust me. Maybe one day you’ll be sitting in this office. You never know!”

“So, basically, you’re firing me from my job and giving me a desk job on the opposite end of the country just because of some stupid rumors.”

“Doesn’t matter whether they have any evidence behind them. Rumors spread because they’re just that––rumors. All people need to think that something is true is their own belief in the rumor. And you just being around Luke gives them just the evidence they need to run wild with it all. Don’t think of this like a punishment, Y/N. Think of it like … the next step in your PR career. It’ll do you some good. Now, if you don’t mind––”

You understood her unsaid sentiments. Get out of my office. Pack your bags. Go to L.A.

So, you did just that.

You walked the twenty–seven blocks back to your apartment, packed your tweed weekender bag and your pink rolling suitcase, printed out your ticket, and stood in the threshold to the apartment that you had lived in for three past three years. (Although, saying that you lived in that apartment might be a stretch; it was more of a home base that you just ghosted through from time to time.) But even with that, it was your home. It was the place that you and Luke had ordered late–night Chinese takeout (pan–fried pork dumplings, lemon chicken, Mongolian beef, Vietnamese doughnuts). And the place that you and Michael and Ashton had a three–a.m. water balloon fight in the living room, knocking over and breaking your flower vase mid–fight. (You won.) And the place that you and Calum had Ghost Adventures marathons until the sun would filter through the blinds on the right side of the living room. Most importantly, it was the place that you had come to view as your home whatever that meant at the end of the day. So, standing in the door was maybe more than a little heartbreaking. It was only 731 square feet, but they were yours. And now? Well, now, you were being banished out of the kingdom and sent to exile.

Perhaps that was a little dramatic. But, for you, it felt like the truth.

You shut the door behind you and left the apartment building that you were all–too–familiar with and caught a cab to JFK.

“Leaving the city or just a vacation?” The friendly cab–driver asked as he pulled into the street.

You sniffled and stared out the window, catching your last view of the Empire State Building as you did so. The sunlight glinted off the tall metal building in an annoyingly tragic and romantic sort of way. Memories of the time that you and Luke climbed all the staircases to the very top of that building flashed through your mind like a supercut. Heavy breath, burning legs, racing heartbeats, and your hand in his. It was up to the jury to decide whether the racing heartbeat was because of the flights of stairs or the hot hand she was holding onto. (Her bet was on the stairs.)  “Leaving.”

Who even knew if you would ever be allowed to return?

“That’s such a shame. Well, either way, I’m sure the universe has something amazing for you in store. I just know it.”

But without this city, without your home, without all those memories that you were speeding past left and right, you weren’t so sure.

+

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